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The name is Gaelin, dear sirs, but to my foes, Stormhammer will
suffice. I pride myself by my weapon and my honour--though if one
should slip, the other fails me not. I am known here and there, but
usually, I keep to myself, for there are certain arenas that welcome
Gaelin Stormhammer no more. This, I do not question, for I have
done questionable things--but this is a ludicrous world, this Faerun,
is it not sons and daughters of the game?
Do pass on information on any tomes that may restore me to my
youthful grace, old friends, when my frost beard was red and full,
and my body strong as Murtagan's black ox. Those were the days . . .
ah
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