Entry 1 : Foreword

I am entering what some men call “The Twilight Years”, though why they bear that name I could not say. In spite of losing my youth, there has been no relief from trouble nor fading of vigor. There was no gentle, soothing transition from sunset to dusk where I found respite from the urge to be ever-vigilant in watching my back. Instead, I am condemned to the perpetual gloom in which I have always made my home…but these days I am plagued by a reflectiveness I cannot shake. Choices from the past are meticulously considered and memories I once pushed aside now spring to the forefront of my thoughts. Faces that belong to ghosts demand my attention. Perhaps this is what is meant by “twilight”. As the day’s events are pondered while the sun sinks away, so too is my life considered now that my years grow long. My past is begging for long-overdue acknowledgement, and for once I am inclined to oblige it. I will take each thought, each memory, and give them bodies of ink, so I may have peace and they may gain immortality.

Should any find these accounts, either before or after my passing, I offer no excuses for the events contained within, nor do I ask that judgement and disgust be withheld. I will neither attempt to sweeten nor temper the ugliness of my memories, and that may serve to create a demonic picture of me. Even after all this time, I would still find such an image well-deserved.

Still, I wish to tell the tale of how a man was remade into a monster, and how he became a man again. To do so, there can be nothing glazed over or minimized. Nothing can be hidden behind curtains of deceit, and no steps can be taken to protect the villains, especially not me.

It began with my parents and the Nanoq Clan, all of whom made their home deep within the inhospitable tundras of Icewind Dale.