A halfling rogue whose tounge is as sharp as his sword.
In his past Luc has worked a variety of jobs. All of them seem to land him on the wrong side of the law. Even in his recreational activities trouble seems to find Luc. He has been run out of town for cheating at cards, bedding a local lords buxom daughters (yes all three of them). His wandering nature and knack for adventure have earned Luc the express title of “The Prince of Vagabonds” (few call him by the title and in fact only his long-time flatmate Hank refers to him with the title).
While Luc can fight his way out of trouble he prefers more diplomatic solutions. Especially those that prevent him from getting costly tears in his clothing (it is extremely difficult to obtain the services a suitable seamstress these days), and which result in him and the concerned party forgetting about their differences over a pint and a smoke.
Luc spent his childhood as part of the most notorious Varisian traveling carnival. From what he remembers it was a happy childhood. Depending on where the wagon train stopped days were spent practicing acrobatics or performing them for the crowd. His best memories involve the performances. He’ll never forget the roar of the crowd and the happy faces of his family. Although he was only in his early teens at the time he would often sneak away from the wagons when they stopped near civilization to gamble and drink – its amazing how humans often fail to realize the difference between a full grown and adolescent halfling. Perhaps his family knew of his night-time desertions. Perhaps they did not. Regardless they never really said anything to him about his whereabouts during his post-dusk trysts and his habits continued and solidified themselves over the years. He did well at cards, but his funds would always low buying drinks for himself, his quickly made friends, and any woman he deemed pretty – and Luc deemed almost all of them pretty by some account.
As Luc grew older he began to win at cards and dice more than probability suggested he should. Part of it was his own inborn skill, and his ability to cheat without getting caught. Sometimes though, Luc would just catch a string of luck that was completely improbable. During the week of his 18th birthday the wagon train stopped near Magnimar for a three day performance. The first two nights Luc crept away to the city for his usual post-performance antics. Returning tired, but still ready to perform and catnap though-out the day. On his birthday night after the performance and a small celebration with his family his father set him down.
“Luc.” he said, “You are 18 years old, and as my oldest son I am prouder than any father could be. I know that your days with our wagons are numbered.”
As Luc looked away his father touched his arm and said, “Don’t look like that, I have seen the truth for years. Its alright.” As he spoke his father reached back and pulled out a long cloth covered balsa wood box. Removing the lid he reveled a plain but well made look rapier. “This was your grandfathers sword. I have never had any use for it but I want you to have it. When you leave the wagons you will need it.”
Luc never answered his fathers question, but that night he knew what he had to do. A city like Magnimar was like a gold mine for Luc. He would put his grandfathers sword up for collateral and win enough money that he could pay his family back for all of their years of love and support. That night Luc did well. In fact he did better than he had ever done in his life. He quickly paid back the money owed for the sword and moved from tavern to gambling den to tavern before he attracted to much suspicion. After an hour and a half he had enough money for his family to buy a new wagon and a voice inside him told him to, to return to his family, to take his winnings, and move on. But his luck was too hot it grabbed a hold of him like a fever. As he continued to win he continued to move until he arrived at an inn called the Wandering Woman.
The Wandering Woman was not the kind of establishment that Luc would usually enter. There was a toughness to the patrons that would have generally scared him. On this night, however, in the grips of his fever with the rapier on his hip he felt untouchable.
to be continued….