The dark ages were not dark at all: neon was all the rage in this epoch. The very first glow-in-the-dark knight donned a suit of phosphorescent armor that was a charcoal grey in light, and vividly blue in darkness. He went by his family name, Sir Tron.
"With my electric sword, I fightith to the death. N'ver a gent nor a dame doth protestith my security of the land," said Sir Tron.
"You are nothing more than 7-11 guard. You have no reign over any kingdom of mine," said Sir Tron's father, King Tron.
The king, while loving of his son, did not approve of his neon attire. The power struggle between the king and his son was neither unique, nor timely. Offspring always find a method to rebel, however crazy or benign, radical or subtle. Sir Tron chose neon blue, plain and simple, and his father did not favor the garishness.
The day this changed is the day everyone remembers: it was the worst storm the kingdom had ever experienced. The castle mote overflowed, covering the bridge in water, and trapping the royal family and it's court in their confines... all except Sir Tron. A curious lad, Sir Tron had been out on his light cycle, scouring the countryside for damsels in distress and dragons to sleigh. Upon hearing word of his family in trouble, he sprung into action with a brazen plan.
Five miles deep into the forest lived tiny orange gnomes named Shammys. While they didn't provide much of a service to the community, they were fantastic drinkers. Some could say one fifty pound Shammy could drink over two hundred times his or her weight. Needless to say, Shammys were never allowed into any taverns, and barred from all fountains were liquid rations were unlimited.
Shammy by Elly
Sir Tron knew the Shammys were the only solution to the royal family's peril, so he summoned them up and gave them a proposition. "If you can help my family," said Sir Tron, "I will ensure your people are elevated in the kingdom. I will make it my goal to see that you are given the deserved respect of the kingdom."
"...and a beverage well for every Shammy?" asked one gnome.
"Don't push it."
The Shammys, hundreds of them, perhaps even thousands, descended upon the castle and began to drink from the flooded castle region. Serfs and tradespeople soon gathered and gasped "WOW!" in amazement. Within minutes, the flooded mote became a mere puddle, and the kingdom rejoiced. It truly was a mutually beneficial time for both Sir Tron and the Shammys. Almost instantly , one had earned the respect of the king, whereas the other had earned the respect of the kingdom.
Only hearing about the Shammys in stories, it was a rare sight for most of the kingdom to see them in action. Like many things of lore, the Shammy were gone from sight just as soon as they had appeared; however, public opinion instantly shifted from slightly unfavorable or indifferent to favorable, and later glaringly positive. Even as the Shammy faded into obscurity as gnomes, the oral traditions began to give them near legendary status.
Over the centuries, fact and fiction, and truth and legend began to blur. The word Shammy evolved with the language into Shammer, and the story of their work to save the kingdom from the world's worst flood was condensed into a short, miraculous moment of Wow. Time bastardized Shammer, and merged the name with their actions. Instead of Shammers saved the kingdom from floods, wow!, the lore brought the statement together into Shamwow!, the people who drink a lot and saved the Trons.
If you ever get to see a Shamwow!, and I doubt you ever will, ask them about their ancestors. Are they proud of their heritage or do they see themselves as an overnight sensation still revered centuries later? The answer may surprise you. I know it did for me.
The End
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