Many years ago, a lord wanting to expand his lands beyond the known realm when his men found a race of microfolk living in a glade and who had made a small village for themselves. At first, their existence amused the lord, liking their village to a model of his own, so he promised to leave the land to them however soon that amusement turned to indifference and then when his township's city status rejected because they had no cathedral that indifference turned to annoyance. The lord ordered his knights to go and clear the land in his name and none stepped forward since he had given the microfolk his word, none except for the proud and pious Sir Davidstow who vowed to get his lordship land for the new cathedral before riding out with his sword and shield in hand.
After a week the lord got tired of waiting, he rode out to see what was taking so long. It was a misty morning when the lord arrived to the glade and found every micro building crushed and destroyed with all the microfolk nowhere to be found just as Sir Davidstow had promised. It was then when the lord heard a choir chanting in an unknown tongue from a shadow just beyond the mist. It was eerily beautiful until the figure became clear out of the mist... Before the lord was the still living body of Sir Davidstow but it was misshapen and warped, hunched over with bone growing out of his flesh to take the place of his armor and atop his back was a gothic building. The microfolk had taken over the body of their destroyer and turned him in to a walking city for them... The Kathedral took it's revenge.