The Journal Of Kosei: Prologue

Prologue

To say that the story of my life has been dictated by the less virtuous instincts of man would be something of an understatement, but forgive me, lest I skip ahead.

I shall start this journal at the point all stories should start, and that would be at the beginning.

Lord Blackthorne was many things. landowner, scholar, husband and even at times something of a musician but of all his pastimes, hunting was his greatest love.

Where many other lords hired gamekeepers to manage their large estates of woodland, Lord Blackthorne did not. He enjoyed riding the length and breadth of his lands, preserving the balance of the local wildlife and bringing back fine trophies for his manor house.

So a hunter he was, but perhaps I should elaborate further, for Lord Blackthorne was not only a hunter of beasts but also a hunter of beauty. One such beauty was a local tavern wench by the name of Eleanor. Together they indulged in a long & secretive affair that lasted several months, the result of which was my passage into this world.

Obviously a nobleman cannot be both a husband & a hunter of women if he wishes to maintain his good reputation, and as such my existence was never officially acknowledged by my father. Soon after my birth, my mother was paid a relatively handsome sum of money to "quietly move away" from the estates of my oh-so-noble father.

And so we move forward 23 years to where I am now - the wonderfully "quaint" hamlet of Archet. But "Wait!" I hear you cry "you have skipped 23 years of the story!"

I'm afraid if you want to hear about how my father's monetary contributions aided in my education, my first kill with a bow or my teenage angst over a pretty young milkmaid named Candice, you will need to seek out my mother, as these tales I will not elaborate on here.

I will however disclose how I came to be here in Archet, and once more it is due largely to those same less virtuous instincts, but in this case not those of a man but those of a woman.

At the age of 21 and having inherited my father's natural skill for hunting, I gained employment as gamekeeper for the governor of a small town some leagues south of Archet, the name of which I shall not disclose should this journal or its content somehow make its way to the eyes or ears of the aforementioned governor.

Rugged good looks are clearly a curse, as mine attracted the attentions of the governor's wife, who began to take a 'special interest' in me. Needless to say the situation became rapidly awkward and so after 2 years of service I made my escape north, here to Archet.

And so here I find myself, sat beneath a tree with only my bow and my lute, writing the first pages of this journal in the anticipation of a fresh new start.