An elderly, drunken, Dwarven mercenary. Adept at ranged weaponry.


Stout-footed, with a long, grey, double-braided beard, Lug’s age is visible over every quarter of his gnarled and wrinkled face. He is quite bald, with slate grey eyes, which serve him well as he finds his marks through the sight of a crossbow. He typically wears black, attempting to slip into the shadows – a feat which he does not often master, as his rotund belly tends to display his location to sentries.


Known by most merely as ‘Lug’, Lugaid Ur’Gashal has seen his share of battles – and many more for those who wish to count them. Having fought in a number of Dwarven battles throughout the ages, most recently against Thanereach, Lug has more experience than most give him credit for at first glance. Lug has ever been an expert marksman, to whom there are few equals. Despite the rather nasty habit of drinking on the job, Lug typically works well as directed by his employers, as long as they don’t mind the odd verbal thrashing. Lug’s heart died long ago, and the cold, dark husk that remains desires nothing but gold, and the thrill of the hunt.


The Golden Cage Natural_1