Centuries ago, just inside the Welsh border, existed a small village known as Gwylfryn.
In those days, folk didn’t have names, but used what they did and where they came from as their ‘name’.
One villager, Gwylfryn Hunterre, was the hunter. So proud a marksman was he, only one bird defied his arrows; the great and mystical Phoenix.
Determined to mark the final notch on his bow, he set off early one morning and spotted the fiery creature flying above the huts in the village.
The bird didn’t stand a chance. Hunterre’s aim was perfect. The bird fell from the sky like a rock and landed on one of the rooftops, causing it to burst into flames. The fire spread, and soon the whole village was alight.
The villagers scurried around, saving what they could, but most was destroyed, including Hunterre’s reputation who was renamed Gwylfryn Foolle, the village idiot.
The Mansionic Perspective 
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