Long ago and far away, so many stories tell a child fell off a mountain to the verdant plains below.
He grew to ride Thanatu's steed from northern glaciers blue to the southern warm green waters lapping at land's end. 
He raced the winds of the sun kissed western plains and scaled the shadowed eastern mountains of his ire.
Everywhere he tarried red ribbons laced the land and man did tremble in his heart at the deftness of Fate's hand.