Squire Dunccan, Knight of Mercinae.

That is what I was called, A noble young knight, trully honorable to the extent that my enemies would post on this board prasing my nobility. unto death, and death, and death, and death, and death.

I believe I still hold the record for subsequent deaths in one week around the 200-300 mark, I know the number because of how many times I had to get the life potion refilled. I got 6 brews in that week. Back when animists were doing their jobs right.

I did not die stupidly, or witlessly, I died to defend my city, I had no hope of beating Threap, or Huzow, or Zenichiro, or Babidi, or Wotan, or Arthor, or Aerian,Zakath... . Cordon. No hope, but no choice either. If it wasn't me dying it would have either been my friends, my Mercinaen brothers and sisters, my mentor Kes, or my city men who died to defend the walls of Mercinae.

I would try and bash, One time flagg and plaman jumped me there in kenkria I didn't have any ult guild skills, they made me drop my swords, forced me to examin them after attaching leaf runes, then let kenkria kill me so they would not get the bloodlust, I also lost a pouch to plaman around there.

Knight Burnout, I didn't invent the term, but I felt it hard, 27 swords, 6 sacks, 35 pouches. innumerable potions, items, and pieces of armor.

I had the Favour of Apollo god of Light 19 times, Damocles god of Chaos twice. I would follow anybody into combat, I would talk for hours to the young, train them, get my squires up, just to have them be broken . broken by threap, and zeni, and babidi. Ironhand. the best most noble of them all, was locked in a room by zenichiro, and made to drop every single one of his items, his crime. cleaving zeni's head off when he was defending me.

I am the Axe that you Bastards wrought, tempred by years of futility, watching my friends leave the land. I am now the Axe that is wielded by Castigere the god of Justice, new direction, a new quest. I am as hard as I have to be.

_

I still consider myself an honorable oponent, I have NEVER refused a mutual challenge that I had time to fight.

You can all say what you want, think what you want, cry scream and moan. I am unbreakable, if you are my enemy, and you arn't whining about me to your gods, then I am not doing my job right.

Keep bringing on the posts, I like seeing my name in print.

Il-Fedaykin Dunccan, Executioner of Justice.

Written by my hand on the 6th of Paglost, in the year 1144.