"It had been a dark and stormy autumn day on the coast at Virigiya, grey clouds hastened over the sky as if they were fleeing from something terrible. Few fishermen had risked the sea that day, and most of those who had were returning in the afternoon with no fish at all – the ocean had refused to give up its treasures. And when evening came the sky turned blood red and in the west Mirrow set the horizon ablaze. This was the scene when the cries went up: "Magmars!" In front of the red horizon innumerable black dots were now visible, getting bigger by the minute. Before long their battle cries could be heard, carried on the wind that drove the battle barges before it. "To arms! To arms!" the Human guards shouted at their fleeing people as realization dawned: They were outnumbered in any event. The Magmar warriors stormed up the beach, their bodies aflame, and slew everyone in their path. And as they crossed the shore the real fighting began.

At nightfall most of the huts on the beach and the fishing boats had been reduced to smoldering embers. The smell of smoke mingled with the stench of burned flesh and blood. The moans and whimpering of the dying were all that could be heard apart from the crackling fires that had sprung up everywhere. The wind had quieted down and in the darkness a thousand fiery dots could be seen in the surrounding hills, and far away shouts were heard from time to time from the Magmars that were driving home their assault. They had won Virigiya.

Among the singed grass and the blackened stones lay a Human warrior. His fair hair encrusted with blood, his body broken, his limbs torn. His breath was coming in gasps now. He had been one of the noble knights who had met the very first wave of attackers. He had not been the mightiest of warriors but neither had he merely surrendered before the foe, as the several dead smouldering Magmars that lay around him clearly indicated. His gaze was turned to the sky, his eyes burning with tears of rage. His family had been down there on the shore and he had watched them fall before the swords and axes of the hated enemy. All were dead now. His friends had fought alongside him and he had watched as they were torn to pieces by the cursed Magmars. He was still gripping his sword in defiance and as he felt death reaching out for him he summoned the last of his strength, raised his blood-drenched blade to the clouds and swore eternal vengeance into the night. At this moment the clouds broke and the moon revealed its tranquil face above the scene of carnage, a shaft of light illuminated the broken body of the human knight. And time stood still...

As his arm sank to the ground and his hand lost its grip on his sword the human warrior heard soft footsteps coming towards him through the grass and reeds. And as his last breath escaped his lips a hooded figure bent over him. "Hush now. Don't go just yet." it said, gesturing with its hand over the warrior's body. He felt peace and warmth wash over him like a wave. "You intrigue me, young human," said the hooded figure. "I have watched you time and time again fighting and killing and getting up after each defeat. And yet at the end of it all, you still call out for more. How is that?" The knight, finding his voice, said in a whisper. "They deserve death. They are our curse, our pain and our disease. I will forever hunt them even in the nether-world." The figure bent down. "Forever, eh? Do you even know the meaning of the word, mortal? But I admire your spirit, young warrior. And I will give you a second chance. A chance that none of them ever had." he said gesturing at the fallen Magmars around them. "I will grant you life this night. Survive this battle, walk through this valley of death and destruction and you may keep it. Though if you chose to accept it, you will forever wear my mark." And somewhere in the hooded darkness a pair of eyes seemed to twinkle. "What say you, hero?" And the human did not waste time thinking: "I want to live!" he coughed. "A wise choice." and with these words the figure drew back it's cloak and revealed a person, haloed in the cold moonlight. It was the god himself, incarnate and walking among mortals. He bent down and touched the warrior’s breast, and the young man felt new life flow through his veins, his wounds healed themselves, his bones were reset. As the god's voice rang out it sounded loud and deep as a heavy bronze bell. "From now on you shall be known as Moonwalker! You shall never rest while the bloody work of war needs to be done! You shall never flee or shun a challenge! Go forth now, go forth and carry my light into the darkest moments of existence!" At this he lifted the human warrior to his feet and vanished in a silent flash of cold light, leaving the bewildered young warrior standing in gleaming armour, with his wounds healed and his pains forgotten. And time resumed its customary flow...

As the reborn Moonwalker realised what had happened and his eyes gained focus, he saw the wave of Magmars flowing back down the hills towards the sea. By now the other humans from Death Cove, the Village of Kingala and the Virigiya Estate were driving them back towards him. And remembering his pledge to the celestial body, Moonwalker raised his sword and screamed at the enemies rushing towards him!"

Thus begins the legend of Moonwalker, the light bringer, the fearless, the unbreakable!