Preface Summer’s ship having come and gone, I now find myself stranded within autumn whilst the lapping tides of winter gently prod at my mind, reminders that a stationary period will soon impose itself upon my life. Four years have occurred since my departure and rechristening- but I choose only now to begin penning my legacy. The events of times past are greatly unimportant; however, perhaps a brief reminiscence is in order. My home was not a horrid one, nor was it glorious as my father would have you believe. I was born Aleckzander II of house Kristoff, a small family of landed nobility to no nation of importance. The particular aspects of my domestic experience are unimportant, but I do intend on fleshing such history out when it becomes relevant to my condition. I persisted in this ignorant state of tranquility for eighteen years, upon which I chose to flee from my duties as an heir and abscond from our estate. The thought of my own story becoming a bridge in the long history of my family was repulsive, and I had chosen from a young age to forge my own tale independent of my forebearers or followers. The first three years were a period of drifting, my longest residence in a single region amounting to perhaps a fortnight. During this time, my body seemed to echo my rejection of the identity we had inherited. I slimmed, becoming more muscle than fat; my skin tanned shades, shifting from porcelain to a leathery, scarred hide. The hair which formerly held a tight, blond top loosened and grew in a filthy and tangled brunette dangle reaching for my shoulders. Similar to my past, these particulars in regards to my appearance are rather unimportant- one could easily imagine themselves in my place without having a single repercussion on this life of mine. Following three years of my soul’s wandering and body’s distortion, I found myself with something reminiscent of a home once again- I spent the fourth year after leaving, the twenty-second of my life, residing in an inn which I could not find my way back to if my being were staked upon it. There are a million tales which could be told of this tenure, and I experienced such phenomena and met such abnormal beings that a lingering, ever-growing portion of my mind fancies it to have been but a dream, or hallucination brought on by exposure. Alas, neither these tales nor their validity are important. I left the tavern after a twelvemonth, with two changed circumstances as a result- I now wore a saber at my hip, and had a concrete goal I could clutch to my chest in the dead of winter, heated by resolve. This goal of mine will most likely be perceived as cruel or villainous, but such petty terms could not shake my unwavering desperation to build an empire. I seek to wear the crown, hoard my riches, wage as many wars as I like and conquer as much as I can. I am untethered by any relations, unchained from the social contract which so many people choose to resign themselves to. I exist outside the petty quantifiers of ‘good’ or ‘evil’, for as the hero and author of my own story, all my actions must be inherently just- lest the story would fall short of completion. I was born Aleckzander II of house Kristoff. This name carries another’s deeds, and does not suit me. I will blaze my own trail across the world surrounding me with intent and drive, carrying a title to inspire these actions. Such ends this preface to the journal of Shey Coyote.