Karashin Dur-hart the Disciple of Ancient Ways

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Chapter 1

It has been some time since I have last taken a pen to this journal.
The wars have been waged, the battles fought, and I have both shed blood and spilt it.
My enemies are numerous, that much is certain, but I do not expect anything less.
As I strive towards my Mastery of Combat, I realize that my father's words were wise.
Although I doubt I will ever perfect all I have been taught, certain perfections have helped greatly.

Upon another note, the land has not come to fear just a lowly duergar warrior of the Village.
They have all learned of Karashin Dur-hart, my full name posted on bounties on my head.
It would make that fool of a father proud to see the name boasted so loudly.

My journey through the guild of warriors has been longer than I thought it would be.
I still have yet to complete it, but I do near the journey's end.
I have learned specifically the mastery of the dagger and that which I was born with, my hands.
My father was quick with the dagger, so I sought to better him, and indeed I have.
I even have taken one of my two teachings with the monks of the Order.
They, as I wished, taught me the stances that shall keep my feet steady in battle, good for when I fight numbers.
My life, I believe, has been a success, and served the Village well.
I can only hope my mark upon these lands is sustained, and at least remembered in some aspect.
For now, this journal is all that knows of the true me, and my goals.
It shall remain that way for now...perhaps the Village shall ready it some day.

Signed,
Karashin Dur-hart.

Role

Chapter 2

It has been some time since I wrote in my journal.
Instead of my usualy scholarly studies, I have been training my body.
Upon this path I take, I must be strong in both mind and body.
Much time has passed and I find that my abilities in combat have greatly increased.
I took it upon myself to study the dagger immensely, and it has been quite effective.
I have also lost my status as a wanderer of these lands in my quest.
I have joined the Village, a band of beings that dispise magicks such as I.
It seems most of Thera seems them as a bunch of barabarians that are too unintelligent.
I will try to change this way of looking upon th Village, scholars may thrive here too.
It had been some time since I wrote down my thoughts in this journal; I shall do it again soon.
Do not lose focus Karashin, for to do so would be catastrophic.
Signed,
Karashin Dur-hart.

Role

Chapter 3

Day Unknown.
Not much time has passed since the beginning of my writings, but the days go unnumbered.
I wish to document my beliefs as they stand at this moment, for others to gaze upon.
Combat is difficult to master, for it is a life dream that often goes uncomplete.
I have seen strength, quickness, intelligence, and stealth all in combat.
Each serve their purpose, but I believe one holds the highest.
Intelligence seems to be the key to Combat, for the body can do so much.
A wise fighter brawls on his terms, not the enemies.
A ranger should bring the fight to the woods, where he will fight best.
A warrior can take a fight as he pleases, but should judge wisely the odds.
An assassin must examine his prey with keen mind to know how best to kill them swiftly.
Some say to flee from a battle is cowardly, but this I do not believe.
To use numbers as a tactic, this is the most cowardly of actions.
Contrarily, fleeing may give necesary time, may change battle grounds, or something the like.
Only the brute can press his enemy to submittance, I am no brute.
To weaken the enemy in body, will take him in spirit.
These are my Combat beliefs, my travels will prove me right or wrong.
(a few lines are gone, erased by water on wet ink...)

Role

Chapter 4

Day 1
After teachings I have taken upon myself, I finally have developed writing skills.
I will make this journal in an effort to document my life, so others may learn.
I will start with the events that have brought me here.
At this moment I am a wanderer, I have no true home and go about my buisness.
My past is not strange, not is it normal, it is....what it is.
My father was thief in our town, quite masterful at his skills.
He worked as a mercenary, and often paid his services to a group of Magi.
All went well for some time, until my father grew overconfident in his ways.
Upon the time of tax, my father instead tried to pay the magi with money he stole from them.
Recognizing thier own coins, in some aura I do not know, they grew angry.
Immediately one utterd but a few words, and a blast of flames grew from his mouth.
The ball was immense and consumed my father, I myself was singened by it.
My father, being the master that he was, dodged most of it yet his beard was burnt off.
He was warned not to do such again. But such a conclusion I would not endure.
The beard is pride within my kin, and to do such a deed is shameful to us.
I grabbed on of the daggers from his belt weeks later and went to strike them down.
To my surprise my father stepped in the way of my advance.
'You would surely fall, you know little of combat' he screamed in my face.
'How dare you let them disrespect our family, this will not stand!'
I swung the dagger, cuting my father's forearm deeply.
I do not remember much of what occured next for my father nearly knocked me out with a blackjack.
But somehow I stood over the wounded Magi, and was to deliver a final strike we he suddenly dissappeared.
I ran to my father, not caring if he was alive, but out of curiousity.
'You fool, what have you done!' But who was he to judge my actions, the bastard.
'Learn Combat to all you can, it will hopefully save you in your miserable exsistance.'
With that he took the dagger and jammed it through his skull, ending his life.
My father had been weak, and had substituted magicks for mastering of combat, he paid dearly.
I will not be so weak to lean on this crutch, nor will I forget that day.
I have spent the years trying to learn combat while running from this group of Magi, hunting me so.
This will not last for long, I will soon turn the tables, but I know too little of Combat.
With time, I shall bring forth their corpses to the Gods, by my strength alone.

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