The Sudrians: The Archive Collection

The Adventure Begins

Mankind, a species that don't know what to do with themselves yet are the most intelligent species on our planet. They have big, massive emotions that cannot be matched by any other living thing on this heap of rock. Passion, anger, fear, you name it! Even the youngest of their sons and daughters can show sadness and happiness.  But with being the most intelligent species on the planet, they must learn how to take care of others. There are other species that live on our earth too, such as dogs and cats and sheep to name a few. They aren't as intelligent like the humans but help with ecosystems and how the planet stays alive. They create joy to people and make them feel they're not alone. But there is another species that helps with humanity. Unlike the rest, the humans created these creatures to help them succeed in their lives. They once feared them when they first appeared in the era of industry where people began to move into urban areas and factories with bellowing, dirty pipes, pushing the steam out into the air. They feared so much of these creatures that chopped them up whilst alive, but when the fifth came, they stopped what they did and began to ask questions to the beings that they had created. But the being did not know either. All it knew is that it was built to work for them, and the name of their species, and their type of race.

They called themselves, transport.

Steam engines, for the type of... transport. You also might think you're talking to a person right now? Hopefully not, cause I'm a steam engine myself, the first type of transport to come to this world. By the time I came, mankind was still trying to see how we came to the planet, building engines for the purpose of experimenting, but that was very rare at the time.

But I haven't fully introduced myself, haven't I? My name is Edward, the Blue Engine. I am a Furness Railway K2 class locomotive, nicknamed "Large Eagles" even though engines would eventually become twice the size of me - three times more if we count the entire world. But I was built in 1896 in the city of Manchester which belongs to the country of England. But I wouldn't stay in that country for most of my life, instead I would work on an island within the north eastern parts of Britain, next to the county of Cumbria. The island was pretty give and take between Scotland and England during the early years, but eventually it would become an island that was run by a small government, that was made by the English government. This land was called the Island of Sodor.

I had never been reallocated by the Furness Railway and remained in a shed at the small village called Ravenglass. It wasn't a big station, but it served it's purposed, the line that I ran was lovely, I pulled passenger trains everyday going a past a big house on a hill whilst going up and down the line. The shed was shared by a J1 class engine called Albert, polite engine, but tended to get boastful and cocky at times. Even then, both of us were happy with what we got, passenger trains and a lovely part of the railway we were stationed at.

It was one, cool, crisp evening in 1915. The Great War was a year in, some engines had gone, some engines grieved the loss of their crew members. One of those crew members, was Albert's driver. He had just got the telegram about that afternoon and was mourning dreadfully. I comfort him as much as I could.

"This war," said Albert sadly, "what is it proving to anyone?"

"Proving which humans are better than others," I replied, "but I can tell you this Albert, all men didn't die in vain, they make sure that peace will come to the world."

Albert made a small smirk. "The war to end all wars," he said, "hopefully it will end."

"And it will, with us marking our triumph across Germany."

Both engines looked down to see their shed master walk up to them. He was scruffy-looking and had greying brown hair. He didn't go to war since he had a health problem with his lungs. He saw this as insult, I saw it as lucky. The shed master looked through his notes that he held within his dry hands. "Number 125," he said, "have you heard about the island called Sodor?"