I am Sjørøver. Some may know me by another name, from another time. Some may know of my deeds, and some may not. So here, I go by another identity. And in a way, I am not who I once was - I have changed, unimaginably so. Friends have turned to enemies, enemies have been claimed by the mists of time.
Everything has changed. Most say that I'm not supposed to exist, some claim that I never did. But the tales of old can disprove that...
If, at any time amidst this tale, you recognise me for who I was, then I thank you, for at least some will remember. But if not, then at leats you shall remember me for who I am now - whether I'm proud of it or not.
Many would say that my other name was unfitting for a creature of my stature - not dignified enough, a mere pet name based on appearances, but I still knew and loved that name , for it was given to me by one I held most dear.
One who is now gone.
Fate is cruel, really - it was thought that they would live on, and leave me behind in the dust of old age, and eventually, death. But instead it was she who took that path, and I who must stay and lament a love lost.
And she is not the only one who is lost...
I'm telling this tale so that you may know why your world is here now, and why mine is gone. Indeed, by the time you read this I will hopefully be gone too. I may be gone all too soon, for nobody is left to protect our world...
For the gods have fallen.