It is the year 5098 CE. We smurfs still survive. It hasn't been difficult. We have so many devices and tech advancements, that it would singe your imagination were I to describe but a few.
Some of us are considered ancient. And rightfully so. The oldest among us saw the earth's feudal system emerge then fall. Eventually the 21st century showed it's disgusting, anti-life face. Many of our kind perished aiding varied factions of humans. Those worthy of assistance convinced us that their aims closely mimicked our own.
Our aims?...In the secret language of smurf, the word used to express the totality of our culture is dryn. It means one thing and everything, all at once. Maybe as this tale progresses you will learn its meaning. Its power! Or, like most of your kind, you won't learn shit.
First, I am called Castle. My name was given to me by my mother. She took a strange liking to a television show in the 20th century. Hardcastle and McCormick. Yes, from that bright-yellow-piss blanket of a tv show was I named. Not from the putrid, dank castles of feudal Europe, but from part of the name of a tv show that could easily have been written by a beakless woodpecker missing one of its wings.