‘Gather round children. Let me tell you a tale, of how this land came to be, and how our people came to be here.
In eons passed, in the time before days and places, when The Original One made the world, he put all his creations on one great plain. The Original One’s garden was freed from the constraints of time and space, and he locked those aspects away into his eldest children. The Original One looked at his creation, and was content.
But all was not well amongst his creation.
The foremost of his progeny, those closest to his being, took exception with one another, and used their aspects to make war. Space and Time fought endlessly, and their ceaseless struggle beckoned forth to intruders from beyond, some of whom sought entry into the Original One’s garden.
The Original One saw that if these conflicts continued, all his works would be rent asunder, and it was with great sorrow that he banished his progeny, and freed their aspects to define and constrain his creation.
The tyranny of time and the oppression of space required that The Original One create new aspects to govern his creation, and many generations of The Original One’s progeny arose to take on Aspects, so that they might rule and define his work.
Still, saddened by the loss of his foremost, The Original One retreated from his work, content to let his creations rule themselves.
And for a while, they did, and all was good. But Time marched on, and Space grew short. Once more did The Original One’s Creations make war with one another.
The Aspects did battle, but it was the lowest of The Original One’s creations that suffered most, ruled and destroyed by forces they could scarcely comprehend.
Most Aspects saw not their plight, but one, The Shaper, had forged their own progeny, and they knew the suffering of their children, and that of The Original One’s lowest.
So when the warring Aspects cracked the mantle of the world, The Shaper, in an act against their very nature, split the earth in twain, dividing the land. Then, the Shaper worked with the lowest, to create great ropes, of unimaginable size and strength.
With these awesome artifacts, The Shaper moved the land, dividing The Original One’s Creation into many continents, and separating those warring Aspects that it could.
The Shaper was exhausted from their efforts, and so on the last of these lands, they rested, and their progeny went forth, to comfort and teach the lowest, and slowly, the Aspects retreated, content with their domains and no longer bent to war.
Ages passed, and the lowest came together, guided by The Shaper’s progeny, and became great peoples and tribes.
The greatest of these peoples celebrated The Shaper’s progeny, worshiping and enshrining them as they deserved. One was loved above all others, and it was from this great Golem that our people took their name, The Kuuran, the People of Iron.
However some Aspects grew jealous of this devotion. They felt envy, that The Shaper’s progeny was so worshiped, while they felt none of the people’s devotion. Their envy turned to greed, their greed to anger, and their anger to wrath. So they loosed their frustrations onto the world, calling forth great, roiling storms and terrible, trembling quakes.
The world seemed fit to sunder once more, and the lowest cried for salvation. Eventually, their prayers were answered, not by the progeny, nor by The Shaper, but by a Great Serpent, who descended from the heavens, and laid his fellows low.
The people rejoiced, and some among their number, with the help of The Shaper’s progeny, built a great needle, so that they might commune with The Great Serpent, if the Aspects ever made war again. These people took on the name Draconid, the People of the Serpent, and they became mighty, with the people’s gratitude for their deeds.
Ages passed, and all was well once more, but like all peace, it did not last. An intrusion from the stars awoke the slumbering Aspects, and they made war once more, their rage rekindled, pouring forth.
The Draconids used their needle, and beseeched the Great Serpent once more. The Serpent heard their prayers, and descended from the heavens in righteous fury to quell his brethren.
The warring Aspects were exiled to slumber once more, and again the people celebrated the Draconids, grateful for their salvation.
The serpent ascended, and the Draconids grew stronger still, bolstered by the people’s devotion.
And for a time again, things were well. The Serpent and the Shaper were celebrated both, and the people existed in harmony.
But like the Aspects before them, the people’s hearts grew greedy, and then wrathful.
The Draconids turned on the Kuuran, wroth that they worshiped not only the Serpent, but The Shaper, and The Shaper’s Progeny.
The Kuuran and their allies were not weak, however, and they fought fiercely against the tyranny of the Draconids.
Eventually, the People of the Serpent turned to treachery. They called down the Great Serpent, and whispered lies in his ear. They told him that the Kuuran and their allies sought to waken the slumbering Aspects, and he believed their lies.
At their behest, he laid waste to the Draconids’ enemies, bringing the wrath of the heavens down on them.
But even still the Kuuran were not helpless. They beseeched their own patron, and The Shaper’s Progeny woke from their slumber to defend the lowest once more.
Terrible War was made, as man battled man, and Aspect battled Aspect, but The Shaper’s progeny were not as great as their creator.
The Progeny fought tirelessly, but the Kuuran knew the battle was lost, and they fled, attempting to escape the Draconids’ wrath. However the People of the Serpent would not let them go, and pursued them relentlessly, annihilation their only goal.
The Shaper’s eldest child held back, to give her brothers and the lowest time to flee. She fought The Serpent bitterly, and held him back through winter’s passage, but she was eventually brought low.
The second child shattered the earth like his creator, splintering the land and splitting the ground in twain. Where there was once one land, there were now many, and one of them housed those Kuuran that remained.
The youngest forged great hands of iron, to push the Kuuran’s new home away from the Draconids domain, into the sea. For many days and knights The Youngest pushed, their very being wearing away into grains of sand, until eventually, a new land was reached.
The Shaper’s remaining progeny joined the Kuuran’s home with this new land, forging two into one, and the Kuuran thought the matter settled. They made peace with the Guardians of their new homeland, and learned to find themselves in one another, so that two people might briefly become the same.
The combined land was named for the great hands of iron that had brought its two pieces together, and Ferrum was born.
And for a while, all was good, but the Draconids never forgot their grudge.
They plied the Serpent endlessly, and at their behest, it flew far and wide, scouring the world, battling the Shaper’s progeny wherever they were found. The cries of their children finally awoke The Shaper from their slumber, but they too were cast down by the Serpent’s might, for mighty though The Shaper might have been, they were a being of creation. Their power could not contest the Serpent, whose very soul screamed destruction.
The Shaper was fragmented, and the treacherous Draconids turned the defeated Progeny into terrible seals, to imprison their creator. They locked The Shaper’s fragments away under great edifices, in the frozen places in this world, to make certain that The Shaper slept forever more.
And eventually, the Draconids found the Kuuran once more.
But in their time apart, the Kuuran had mastered the power granted to them by the Guardians. With it, they overwhelmed the Draconids, repelling their ancient enemies.
Incensed, the People of the Serpent called forth their terrible master once more, and practiced dark, forbidden arts to mimic the powers granted by the Guardians. With their fell magics, and with the Serpent’s aid, the Draconids once more brought the Kuuran to the edge of destruction.
The remaining Progeny were defeated, and fell into a great slumber, and two of the Guardians were scattered, forced to retreat and lick their wounds. Only the Lake Guardian remained, and she beseeched the Great Serpent, begging that he cease in his wrath.
Her purifying voice pierced the Serpent’s anger, and he looked back on the destruction he had wrought. Many years had he battled, and the moment of clarity brought each moment rushing back. Regret overtook the Serpent, as he realized the Draconids’ deceit, and he rebuked his adherents, laying them low. He returned to their land, and vented his frustrations upon those that remained, forcing their descendents into hiding.
Anger sated once more, the Serpent fell to contemplation atop a great mountain. For many days and many nights, the Serpent lay thinking, and when he finally rose again, it was with a decree, that he would never again strike at the lowest. He would ascend to the heavens, and leave the earth behind, only returning when need was great, and when he was called by one of pure heart.
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So saying, the Serpent returned to the skies, never to be seen once more, and the Kuuran built a great edifice on the mountaintop, so that the Serpent might never forget his promise.
The remaining guardian settled into the Sacred Lake, and the slumbering Progeny were enshrined so that they could recover their power, and forever after our people have lived in Ferrum, where we venerate the Golems and the Guardians for the peace they brought us. And where we’ll never forget the treachery of our ancient foes.’
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Excerpted from: The Journeys, by Murak Shan; Translation by Niamh Carver, 9th ed.
Verse 8: Children of the Sea
And woe were we, stricken with thirst and privation, for though our benefactors were mighty, and their ark of stone and metal impressive beyond measure, their specialities lay not in fortifying the body, nor the spirit.
The people grew weary, and then desperate. Their companions did all they could to assist, running themselves dry to nurture their flagging wielders, but the count of people was high, and the number of companions low.
For days, Breken called the rain, until his feet bleed red on the bare stone, and he could raise his arms no longer to dance.
The last rainfall was a week hence, and water became precious first. Then, food, and then, the hot, southern winds struck the ark, scorching all aboard.
Plum Blossom’s fruits withered, grew sour, and then grew not at all. Pearl’s stamina flagged, and her waters ran dry. Petrin’s beak wore down, and the fishing became scarce.
The Great Golems were not unfeeling to our plight. Every morning and every evening, The Iron Golem pushed its brother’s great construct with greater fervor, but no end lay in sight except the dusk’s cold embrace, and despair took hold of the people.
The weakest amongst their number lay themselves down, and awaited their ends under shelters created by the weeping Stone Golem. His cries of shame and sadness rocked the very land beneath the people’s feet, and echoed out into the endless blue oceans surrounding our stony ark.
The companions joined in the Stone Golem’s cries, railing against the tragedy of existence. Then, the people joined them both, losing precious water even as its inevitable deprivation spelled certain doom for all on the ark.
The bare tears of the Stone Golem and the companions and the people leaked into the blue sea, and mingled with the oceans’ life-giving waters. Through their reddened eyes, none saw it at first. None, but the great Iron Golem, who had forbade himself the comfort of weeping until its people reached their new land, or all perished.
The tears of the Stone Golem and the companions and the people pooled together, mixed by the ocean current, and took on the forms of small, blue children. Even as the weakest passed from the land, the ocean welcomed their spirits, and it gave these weary souls new bodies, composed of light and water and joy, beloved by the ocean’s embrace, never again to know fear, nor hunger, nor pain, nor thirst.
The first of the children rose from the waves, eyes glowing blue, and told the people that the mother ocean had heard their prayers, and their sorrows, and had accepted their offering. The child raised its arms, and called to its newly hatched siblings, and together, they called the rain once more, preserving those amongst the people and the companions who were left, and all aboard the ark save the Iron Golem wept once again, not for the inevitability of their own deaths, but for the losses of their most vulnerable, and most precious.
The ocean’s gift received, and returned, the children of the sea returned to the water, and one week later, long before their bounty of fresh water had been exhausted, the Iron Golem spotted land.
The ark was brought to this new world, and affixed with great bands of iron, and the people stumbled from the ark onto their new home, starving, exhausted, ill, but not thirsty.
And the Iron Golem wept, finally, its tears turning to grains of sand, staining the beach the color of gray steel. It called out its lamentations, at the loss of the children, and also its thanks, to the ocean that had received them. It cried, and howled, the names of the children recited one after another.
Those received by the sea, and lost to the land, the Phione.
The Iron Golem continued, until it had named all of the lost, and then it slept, insensate upon the beach.
Until the Guardians arrived, and it rose once more to defend the people.
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The Knights of the Hero
1. Exhibit Entrance: Once, in the land of Galar, there was a great hero. He wielded a sword that could cut anything, and a shield that would deflect every blow. This narrative, this myth, echoes throughout alar’s history, and in the middle era, another great man claimed the mantle of hero, to fight against an awesome evil. The most valiant throughout the land flocked to the great man’s banner, and together, they formed the Hero’s knights, the most valorous company in the land. Step inside this gallery, and see the world’s most exhaustive collection of artifacts relating to their exploits.
2. Artist’s Rendition: Some amongst their number are commemorated here, in the Hammerlocke Museum of Nobility and History. You can see them pictured here, twelve brave knights in resplendent armor, captured in this amazing oil painting by contemporary artist Belinda Beckond.
6. Watercolor Painting: First, we come to Lancelittle. Some say this name was a dig at the valorous knight’s small size, but more modern etymologists agree that Lancelittle’s name is actually the origin of the very word ‘little.’ So impactful were they, that the very concept of being small in stature comes from their name. You can see their stature captured here, in this watercolor by Ellie Lillie, when compared to the size of their valorous mount.
7. Diminutive Armor: Historians use the pronoun ‘they’ to refer to Lancelittle because their true gender is unknown. Indeed, almost nothing is known about this knight, though they were first and foremost among the hero's companions. They were known to wear full plate armor to cover their entire body, which you can see replicated here, and were known to stand at approximately one-and-a-quarter meters in height.
8. Pair of Ancient Horse Statues: Conflicting accounts describe Lancelittle’s steed. Some say it had a great billowing main of blackest soot, while others claim that it had ivory horns, glisteningly slick and wickedly sharp. Neither of these images are captured well here, in these ancient statues found in the ruins at Stow-On-Side, but recent techniques have helped archaeologists determine that these statues were once painted black and white, respectively.
13. Tapestry: Lancelittle led the hero’s other companions, directing them with clarity that seemed almost like foresite. Their greatest adventure saw them leading Ser Kaya and Sir Berrica, who we’ll meet later, into a glimmering portal, to repel hideous monsters from beyond Galar’s shores. See here an artist's rendition of the event, woven into an intricate tapestry. The tapestry itself has been dated to the late middle era, so it was likely created by a weaver some decades after the event in question occurred, leading to the question of what happened to the original source the weaver used to create the image, if indeed there was one at all.
15. Suit of Armor: Unlike Lancelittle, we have detailed information about Sir Percen's origins. He was originally the third son of the Hector family, but his prowess with his partnered Onix, Serperious, threatened his brothers. Valorous to a fault, Sir Percen disavowed his noble title, leaving his house to live as a knight errant, until eventually he was recruited to the hero’s cause by Lancelittle. Also unlike Lancelittle, Sir Percen was known for his broad shoulders and impressive stature, and this set of well-preserved plate mail was supposedly a set of ceremonial armor belonging to the man himself.
17. Charcoal Sketch: This depiction of Sir Percen’s brave Onix, Serperious, was supposedly created by the man’s own hand. The work details his partner in impressive detail, making clear the artist’s familiarity with the subject. Note the signature in one corner of the image. Though Sir Percen was not a prolific painter, and what creations of his have survived do fetch impressive prices, his signature is unmistakable for the number of official documents from the time it survives on.
18. Wall display of documents written in Middle Galarian: What time he did not have to invest in painting, Sir Percen surely put into running the realm, and his hand shows up again and again, on tax documents, supply reports, income statements, and any other document you care to imagine.
23. Oil Portrait: Depicted in this portrait is Ser Kaya, another of the hero’s most famous knights. Hailing from a foreign region, Ser Kaya was once a foreign noble, but lost her title in a succession dispute. She fled to foreign lands, where she and her retainers became mercenaries. They eventually came under the hero’s banner, and Ser Kaya remained from then-on one of the hero’s most loyal knights. This painting is on loan from The Furouve, Kalos’ foremost art museum, and depicts Ser Kaya before her departure from her land of birth.
25. Replica Armor: None of Ser Kaya’s armor has survived the ages, and what we see here is a modern blacksmith's recreation based on firsthand accounts of the armor itself. Known for her mastery of what are now recognized as Fairy-Types, Ser Kaya is said to have changed the color of her armor daily, though whether this was done with paints, or through some other, more esoteric means, none could say.
29. Scraps of Metal: These metal scraps were said to have been carried by Lancelittle out of the fell portal. They reported that these are all that remained of Ser Kaya’s scintillating blade. He would comment no more on the matter.
31. Ancient Apricorn Ball: This apricorn ball, banded in gold, is said to have belonged to Sir Galladian. There is some confusion among historians, on whether Sir Galladian was a wielder famed for his Gallade, or instead, refers to the Gallade themself, partner to some unrecorded master. There is evidence abounding for both theories.
37. Golden Grail: This ancient relic, predating the middle ages by a thousand years at least, was once the object of a great quest. Legends say that the grail contained the power of the dawn, and that when Sir Galladian returned to court with the Grail in hand, they were no longer the man their companions once knew.
38. Longsword: By all accounts, Sir Galladian was the order’s most accomplished duelist. None could match him with a blade, and in life, this sword was said to have belonged to him. The handle is shaped quite oddly, and modern swordsmasters profess that whoever wielded must have practiced an unknown style.
41. Iron Helmet: This conical helm, carbon-dated to the middle era, bears Sir Galladian’s crest. Well-constructed, it has survived to this day, though no other pieces of armor bearing Sir Galladian’s crest have been found.
63. Spiked Club: This weapon, hailing from the east, is a replica of Sir Berrica’s, the largest of the hero’s knights. There are conflicting reports on which region Sir Berrica hailed from, though all sources agree that he was foreign to Galar.
65. Tea Set: History remembers Sir Berrica as a great enjoyer of tea. This porcelain set was supposedly a gift from the hero, and Sir Berrica was said to have kept it pristine until his death. Peer closely at the individual pieces, and you can see evidence of ancient runes, known for repelling spirits and ghosts. These were common, in the middle era, to prevent porcelain from becoming Polteageists, but they have fallen out of favor in the modern day, due to conservation concerns.
69. Shoulder Pauldron: This pauldron, made of interconnected dragon scales, is a splendid example of Lamellar armor. It is said to have once belonged to Sir Berrica, until Lancelittle carried it out of the fell portal. The taciturn leader of the hero’s knights would say nothing else on the matter.
113. Love letter: This poem, composed in middle Galarian, is said to have been sent by Sir Tristan, the last of the hero’s knights, to his future wife, Isan. The youngest, and the most romantic, of his fellows, Sir Tristan is said to have courted many men and women over his long life, before finally settling with Isan, the love of his life.
115. Iron Shield: A stalwart protector, and fierce guardian, Sir Tristan is said to have gone into battle armed only with a shield, using it to protect his fellows and his partners from the blows of their opponents. Though no surviving shields can be attributed to the man, this replica was created by an expert blacksmith, using first-hand accounts of Sir Tristan’s exploits.
119. Portrait: This oil painting, depicting Tristan and Isan, was created in the late Recovery Era, by world-renowned artist Franco Goyar, of Paldea. Tristan, more than his fellows, came to be known outside of Galar, for the man traveled far and wide, later in his life, bringing his wife with him on these adventures. This work was donated by Goyar’s estate in an act of striking generosity.
123. Exit: Thank you so much for listening to this guided audio tour of ‘The Knights of the Hero.’ We hope you enjoyed your time in the exhibit today, and we look forward to your continued patronage at the museum. Your support directly contributes to the protection and appreciation of our beloved history. Please return the wand to bin on your right, and have a pleasant day.
