Adventures on Tellene - Stirrot Isle
An overwhelmingly large man of red hair with spear in hand
If you swing an axe and strike a mans neck it will sever and the man will die. This is a true thing, and will happen without fail. The Gods do not make it so, it has always been so. The Gods are not so crass as to interfere with the obvious, though I do not doubt they can. Some monks give up life to pursue godliness, but the Gods do not play big roles where nothing unpredictable happens, it would be unseemly. Where the Gods do dance is on the edge of the knife point and among the tumbling dice, anywhere probability is becoming fate and then becoming truth. This is where you find the Gods, Old Lucky foremost among them. If you want to be closer to the Gods, live with Risk, seek it and cultivate it recklessly, dance with God of Risk and be alive.
Lug received some training as a squire and eventually a foot soldier, and consequently knows his way around a spear. These things were forced on him quite naturally by his obscene stature, at 6’’3 and weighing almost 240 pounds, many men saw in him the potential for destruction. He realized quickly tough that he was risking is life on a daily basis, with which nothing seemed wrong, but the spoils were going to other men, men of higher rank, and that was not right. With the meager earnings he had he applied to various trades in the city, looking for an apprenticeship or paying guard work. Jobs were scarce at the time and he found that only the local cleric orders were taking on new members. It seemed worth a try.
When Lug entered the world of priestly knowledge he was accepted into two orders, and faced the choice between the Caregivers and the Church of Chance. With the caregivers lay the power of healing, his mother was dying after all. With the church of chance lay something more, something ineffable to Lug, the truth that the future was inscrutable chance perhaps, that the Gods cared only for those who risked it all. He stood towering over two clerics who argued the merits of each order. Seeking to better understand healing and the saving of lives wagered against something truer, something fundamentally pure. Lug brandished from his pocket a coin, a simple flip to decide his fate. As he flipped it the cleric from the church of chance snatched it out of the air mid flip. “Your action makes the choice for you” he said, nodding to the other cleric, who bowed off, knowing that Lug was lost to him if he would wager his fate on a coin flip. As Lug walked off with the Cleric he informed the man that he had not needed to do that, the coin was his own weighted coin and that decision was one of the few he would not leave to chance. Perhaps Lug was cruel to pursue avarice and gambling over the healing arts, but it would not be the last time, and a gambler watches his own back first.
There comes a time when there is not enough risk to be found in dice rolls, nor cards, nor ‘blind-man’s-widow’ and other knife-tossing games. So Lug picked up his spear and headed to where he heard men where dying in pursuit of riches.
Having arrived in Stirrot a few interesting things have happened. Lug has befriended some half-orcs, and they have begun entering the castle to figure out its secrets. They have dubbed themselves Lucky Lug and his Green Skinned Thugs, and have been building quite a reputation.
Quirks/Flaws: Anosmic, Cruel