Your description is:
Before you stands giant, stoic and motionless like a sentinel of some sacred
land. Heavy brows outline a bland, gray eye peering out from under a tattered
hood, the other covered by a rough leather patch. Wide cheeks and a square
jaw covered in thick, musty facial hair surrounds a pair of dry, earthy lips
set below a broad nose. Some light glistens upon a small, golden ring in his
left nostril, along with several other piercings on each ear. His coral
complexion contrasts with an olive-tinted hood, covering a set of braided
hair with beads weaved in and strong straw tied at the ends. A stout neck and
enormous shoulders begin a brawny torso, covered with some exotic armor. His
gargantuan legs and large base complete the image of a muscular physique,
made only from continuous physical exertion. He slowly raises one of his
crossed forearms, looking as if to be reaching for a weapon. Instead, he
covers his mouth with calloused hands and bellows a cough.

Fahnrore the Weaponsmaster, Sounder of the Clarion
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Level : 51 Sex : male Race : storm
Ethos : Neutral Align : Good Class : warrior
Practices: 4 Trains : 0 Hometown : Galadon
Exp : 586900 To Level : 27100 Sphere : Honor
Age : middle-aged, 349 years old (317 hours)
Hit Point: 3 /917 Mana : 18 /425 Move : 967 /980
Str : 23(23) Int : 17(17) Wis : 17(17)
Dex : 17(17) Con : 3 (3 ) Chr : 16(17)
Carry # : 1/30 Weight : 30 lb 3 oz (Max 527 lbs)
Gold : 0 Silver : 0 Copper : 0
Wimpy : 100 hp Morale : Moderate Position : Standing
Hitroll : 5 Damroll : 7
AC pierce: 74 Barely protected AC bash : 74 Barely protected
AC slash : 74 Barely protected AC magic : 74 Barely protected
vs Spell : Not protected vs Paralysis : Not protected
vs Breath: Not protected vs Petrification: Not protected
You have 0 weapon specializations.
You have 0 legacy choices.
You are specialized in sword.
You are specialized in axe.
You batter weapons from your foes with the movements of Crashing of Waves.
You smash foes to the ground with the charge of Greeting the Avalanche.
You are affected by:
Power: 'eyes of flame' for -1 hours.

Your role is:
Added Fri Mar 21 00:05:37 2003 at level 2:
"Yar! Dis be me boy!" said Dahltor as he gently held his son upon one
forearm. Looking into his eyes, Dahltor felt He gleamed a smile at the
mother of his child and softly spoke, "Ya did a miracle, Geanhaloe." Covered
in sweat after hours of labor, Geanhaloe could only respond with tears and
reached out for her newborn. She held him as if nothing else existed beside
herself and her child, euphoria glowing from seeing what she helped create.

The tribe, quiet due to anticipation, began cheering as Dahltor stepped out
of the enormous, leathery tent. With his son raised above his head, Dahltor
proclaimed, "Dis my son! Fahnrore!" His people erupted in one loud roar,
yelling to the Gods and began a long night of celebration. The tribal chief
entered back into his stuffy tent, found to greeted by three mysterious
characters and his wife fallen asleep most likely from exhaustion.
Dahltor examined the travellers and saw an elf, a dwarf and a human of some
sort. Discerning some of the materials on their bodies, the newly-fathered
chieftan quickly clutched his son to his chest.

"What ya doin' ere?"
"We have come to see your son," said the elf.
"Ehh...what fer?"
"We have come to see your son," said the dwarf.
"Bah, ya already said dat! Why ya come to see me son?"
"We have come to see your son," said the human.
"Oi! What the hell be wrong with ye three? Ye deaf?"
"Your son has been born with a gift," said the elf.
"Aye?"
"Your son has been born with a gift," said the dwarf.
"Aye, the elf..."
"Your son has been born with a gift," said the human.
"Boy, if I had a shark tooth fer every time I heard dat one." Then the all
three travellers spoke, "May we see your child?"

The chieftan, clearly trying to determine the nature of their request, paused
and looked at the face of his son. With a short sigh, Dahltor slowly placed
his child into the hands of the elf. The pale elf cradled the baby and gazed
long into young Fahnrore's eyes. The clean-shaven human peered from under his
hood upon the baby and grinned toward the dwarf as the elf leaned down toward
the stumpy figure so that he could also look at the child's face. The three
travellers exchanged looks and nodded together in unison. And with a few soft
words, the elf spoke swiftly and Dahltor fell into a deep slumber. When he
awoke, he quickly looked around him, searching for his son. Dahltor could
hear Fahnrore's babbling leading him outside of the tent. He found his son upon the altar, missing his left eye.

Added Tue Apr 8 23:09:20 2003 at level 47:
Well, dis be odd fer ma cause I ain never wrote nutin te meself. I git alot
on me chest so I bes be startin soon. Lots bin happenin since me Pa gone way.
Fargin shark bite em gud, but died like he shoulda, in battle. Still be
hurtin in me heart...jus em an stuff. Afta dat, me had te deal wit assumin da
head ov da tribe. I jus wasn ready so I handed it te me brudder. He told ma
dat if I come back dat I wud be da Chieftan again, but I told em dat I wusn
comin back. I winked me eye an left em wit a smile. I always be wonderin how
he be doin, who be in da tribe, how da shark huntin goin an stuff. Keeps ma
goin knowin dat I be fightin fer him an da tribe.

Afta I left da island, I swam te da big island dat we wus told never te come
te, Thera. Me Pa told ma dat da big battles an gods an stuff be der. When me
wus bout da size ov a bear, he told ma dat der be a god he likd when he hurd
bout em. If I be needin anyting, he told ma te search fer em an talk te em
lik I talk te ma Grandpa. So me searched an found em lik a shiny stone in da
bottom ov a clear pond. It wusn te long befer I learned da ways ov da land an
fargin furthered me huntin skills.

Durin dat learnin, I met lots ov creatures dat hav gud hearts an bad ones. I
jus rememba da fargin stories dat me Pa told me bout fightin da fire giants.
Dey fargin came te da island lookin fer guld an stuff. Da tribe fought bak an
da fire giants ran way lik a chicken afraid ov da knife. Der be a wind in me
heart to blow out da flame ov der evil. So me joined a group ov folks dat
stood against da darkness. Me boss inducted ma an wus proud ov ma me tinks
fer gettin in der. Me heart wus jumpin lik a rabbit lookin fer a carrot.

Der be lots ov folks out der dat be carin bout gittin der bosses symbol
tattooed te der body so dey kin be showin it off. I ain one ov dese folks. I
never asked te git or even git promoted in ma group, but me boss tought I wus
deservin or sumtin. Me culd never figure it out. Wit da wind in me heart, I
use da flame ov da light te rid ov da taint dat be ruinin dis land. Me
fell...lots. When me means lots, me means lots. But I kept it goin, an goin.

Da deaths kept on comin te me an da darkness. It wus hard on me spirit.
Sumtimes I wud be da only one te defend da big hut an stuff. But I did it. I
wusn goin te run away lik dose chickens. Da hate started te git te me. Fargin
yah, I started te do tings I wuldn do befer. I fought witout da honor dat me
Pa passed down to me from me Grandpa. Da honor dat kept me tribe live witout
corruption an stuff.
Me boss took away da mark dat he gave ma. I wusn carin bout da mark, jus bout
whut me boss wus tinkin bout ma. I didn want te be disappointin em. He wus
like me Pa. So me went te his place an talked te em. He told ma whut ma
errors be an explained dat all. I know whut I did an stuff. So me told em te
kick me out ov da big hut. He wouldn kick me out, but I pleaded cause me
really wusn deservin te be in der. Da values dat I told da squires wusn worth
nutin if me wusn actin accordin te dem. So instead ov kickin ma arse out, he
demoted ma te whut I wus when I furst wus inducted. I still wusn feelin so
gud bout stayin in da big hut. Me wus ashamed an fargin disappointed in me
self. I wus sulkin an stuff an asked me boss why he kept me in der an he
asked ma if me wuld throw away a dull axe. Me said no an den he said dat da
axe mite be etched or dull, but it jus be needin te be sharpened. He den told
ma dat if I earned his mark again, den I wuld be da "Warlord ov da Clarion"
an dat I wud be da most high or sumtin over his udder followers. I don know
if I be wantin dat. I still don tink dat I be deservin. Me jus don understand
why he git so much faith in ma. But dat be da way he be.

Da deaths be takin a toll on ma. I don know how much longa me kin fight. Da
days be hard an rough. I jus be hopin dat I kin prove dat I be a gud follower
te me boss. I ain wantin nutin from em. Der be so much dat I wunt te do. Find
dat fargin shark dat bite me Pa. Find who took me udder eye. Find me missin
eye. Jus lots. But I kinno be doin stuff until da light be settled. An da peace come te da lands.

Dis group dat I be in is me new tribe. Da tribe ov da light. Da tribe ov
gudness. Dis tribe be me family.

Added Thu Apr 24 19:36:59 2003 at level 51:
Bin long time since me wrote in dis journal ting, but git te keep up wit it.
Me git back inte da Holy Brigade no te long afta me wrote me last entry.
Nutin much happenin udder den dat wit me life in da Fortress. Da physical
battle wit da darkness be tippin te da light. Yah, me be kickin der arse. But
it be da inner part dat I be tinkin an focusin on mure. Der be so many ov
dose in da light dat walk close te da line between gud an evil te closely.
Greed, anger an hate be breedin taint in da hearts ov da light. It be so tiny
an small dat mos kinno see whut der error be. It be seemin dat everyone git a
sumtin in dem dat be needin fixin. Me sorta lost sum faith in dose dat be
round me. Dey be fierce fighters an all, but me jus don feel right sumtimes.
Me realized dat da errors made further da battle wit da darkness, but at da
sametime, strengthen da will an spirit. It wus den dat I found me self findin
Honor in a whole new wey. Me said dat it wus a livin ting befer an it still
be, but me tought dat it kin exist witout der be sumone honorable. It ain so
true. Me be honorable jus as honor be me. Me need honor jus as honor need ma.

It be livin in ma. An jus wit faith, da spirit kinno exist witout da blind
belief dat one dey da light goin te prevail. An meybe, da old ways ov honor
ain truely da way honor be needin te be. Fer in dis battle against da
darkness, honor lives trough ma in da war. An te truely attain honor, one mus
lose it furst te know whut be it truely be. An dis act in its core be
honorable.

"Smokey my friend, you are entering a world of pain."