Lucas the Grim

Arthur's alternate character. I'll be playing this one, with David's approval



Stat Value Modifier
Str 19 (+2) 4 (5)
Dex 10 0
Con 15 (+2) 2 (3)
Int 12 1
Wis 16 3
Cha 16 3

Feats & Special Abilties

  • Power Attack
  • Servant of the Heavens (Exalted feat)
  • Weapon Focus (Longsword)
  • Cleave
  • Aura of Good
  • Detect Evil
  • Smite Evil 3/day
  • Divine Grace
  • Lay on Hands
  • Aura of Courage
  • Divine Health
  • Turn Undead
  • Remove Disease 1/week
  • Magic Circle


  • +1 Longsword
  • +1 Composite (+4) Longbow
    • 50 +1 Arrows


  • +2 Half-plate
  • +1 Heavy Steel Shield

Other Equipment

  • Gauntlets of Ogre Power
  • Amulet of Health


  • Falcon (Paladin’s Heavy Warhorse)


Name Base Stat Ability Mod Ranks Misc Mod Total
Diplomacy Cha 3 11 0 14
Heal Wis 3 1 0 4
Jump Str 5 11 0 16
Knowledge (Religion) Int 1 10 0 11
Knowledge (The Planes) Int 1 1 0 2
Ride Dex 0 10 0 10
Sense Motive Wis 3 11 0 14

Only an Orphan

Lucas has no memories before his early days in an orphanage run by priests of Heironeous. Despite being run by stern but caring priests, the orphanage was not a pleasant place. Many of the other boys were bullies. Said bullies were impressed by Lucas’ ready strength, and wanted him to help them. Lucas, though, refused. “Heironeous tells us”, he would say, “that the strong must protect the weak.” This lead to Lucas being an especial target of the bullies, but he learned to defend himself enough they eventually left him alone. As he grew bigger and stronger, he took to defending the younger and weaker boys. The priests quietly encouraged him, seeing that he was acting with honor and valor.

Lucas made few, if any, friends at the orphanage. The older boys hated him for standing up to them to defend the younger boys. The younger boys were grateful for his defense of them, but they viewed him as a guard, not a friend. He spent most of his days in contemplation, study and prayer, earning him the nickname “Laughless Luke{”.

He felt a call to serve Heironeous, and one day, as he was approaching manhood, he approached one of the priests and said, “I want to be a priest, and devote my life to Heironeous.”

To his dismay, the priest replied, “no, my child. Your destiny is to serve Heironeous, but not as a priest.”

“Then how?” he replied.

“You will learn soon enough.”

A Mentor and a Friend

It was only a few weeks later when a paladin of Heironeous, Sir Ibonek, arrived at the orphanage. “I have need of a squire!” he cried out. “A strong lad, who will tend to my horse, my sword, and my armor! This is your chance to serve Heironeous and repay him and his church for sheltering you!”

“How much does it pay?” asked one of the bullies.

“Food and clothing and shelter and a chance to serve Heironeous! What more does one need?”

“Whores and ale!” cried another of the bullies, to much laughter.

Lucas, though, walked up him proudly. “I will serve you, for the glory of Heironeous.”

Sir Ibonek grabbed him by the hand and pulled him onto his horse. “Then away!” As they rode away, Lucas took one last look at the only home he ever knew. He saw the priest who told him the priesthood was not his destiny, gently smiling.

SIr Ibonek was not quite what Lucas thought a paladin would be. He expected a grim warrior focused on fighting evil. He did have the focus, but he was far from grim. Quite the contrary, he was a jovial, laughing man, filled with both piety and mirth. He taught Lucas how to care for his arms, his armor, and his mount. They rode about, and Lucas watched from a distance as Sir Ibonek fought evil, growing in admiration for him.

One day, when he thought the paladin was off meeting with his superiors, Lucas was cleaning the sword, and took to swinging it around a bit. He was startled to hear Sir Ibonek speak to him from behind, “a little swordplay, eh, laddie? Are there orcs about? Trolls? Perhaps even a demon?”

“I’m… I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again,” he responded, blushing.

“Nonsense,” was the reply. “Do you honestly think I only needed a squire? You’re wiser than that, m’boy. Now, come and let me show you the right way to hold a blade.”

The Ways of a Paladin

And so, Lucas began his training as a paladin. He proved to be a quick study and a capable warrior, only marred by a slight tendency to clumsiness. When he was dazed by a blow when sparring, Sir Ibonek would laugh and tell him, “we don’t wear armor to look good, now do we, lad? Now, shake it off so we can get back to teaching you to fight like a warrior!”

Sir Ibonek tried to share his jovial spirit with Lucas, but laughter never came easily to the youngster. He tried to teach him that joy was a gift from the gods, telling him, “evil attacks our minds and souls as well as our bodies, laddie, and a glad spirit protects them like armor protects our flesh! Laugh! Enjoy life!” Lucas tried, truly he did, but he never could seem to truly escape the grim focus that had been a part of his life always.

As his training continued, they arrived at a small temple of Heironeous in a tiny farming village. Lucas overheard Sir Ibonek and one of the priests talking outside the stable. “Do you think he’s ready?” asked the priest.

“I don’t think so, I know so”, Sir Ibonek replied with unusual seriousness. “But,” added with his usual laugh, “there’s only one way to find out!”

Sir Ibonek then burst in to the stable and cried out, “M’boy, it seems a small band of kobolds have been raiding this village. Now, for an seasoned swordsman like me, it would be practically dishonorable to deal with such pathetic creatures. Would you, perhaps, know of any young warriors who might be up to such a task?”

“Me, sir? I… I… I don’t know.”

“Nonsense. I’ve spent many an hour training you for just this.”

And so, Lucas was helped into his armor and handed a fine sword. He and Sir Ibonek rode to the kobold encampment. The paladin helped him off his horse, and then said, “well, go to it, my lad. The evil creatures are only about a hundred yards away. You should be done in time to get back to the temple for supper.”

“I’m… I’m afraid.”

“Son, only a fool would feel no fear before a battle. What makes a warrior, what makes a paladin, is that he conquers that fear. Now, go! I want to get supper myself!”

As a battle, it wasn’t much to speak of. Only three kobolds, and they were tipsy from drinking cheap ale they had looted. But for Lucas, it was the grandest day of his young life. He proved that he had learned his lessons well, and escaped with only a minor wound.

And they did make it back to the temple in time for supper. But it was no ordinary meal—Lucas was surprised to learn a grand feast had been prepared. He asked a priest the reason for the feast. “Hasn’t Sir Ibonek told you the traditions? A great feast is always held when a new paladin is about to take his vows.”

“A new paladin? I’ve not met him.”

The priest looked puzzled, and then Sir Ibonek walked up behind him and gave him a quick smack to the back of his head, and loudly sighed. “All this time I’ve spent training you to be both strong and wise, and sometimes, you’re still as dense as a rock. It’s you, laddie. Your little skirmish today was your final test, and you passed. Quite well, in fact.”

The next day, Lucas took his vows, and was told at the conclusion of the rituals, by SIr Ibonek himself, “you may rise, Sir Lucas.” Of course, after the ceremony, Sir Ibonek added, “that’s the first and last time I call you Sir Lucas. You’ll always by m’boy or laddie as far as I’m concerned.” Lucas didn’t mind a bit.

Life as a Paladin

Sir Lucas spent the next few years gaining respect as a paladin of Heironeous. He sometimes served alone, but more often, he fought alongside Sir Ibonek. They became known as a good team, and were often called upon to perform difficult quests for various temples of Heironeous, and even the upper hierarchies of the church itself.

One day, Sir Ibonek came to him, looking uncharacteristically grim. “We’re needed, laddie. And it won’t be easy. There’s a great temple being threatened by a massive horde of evil creatures. They tell me some may even have crawled out of the Abyss. This is no mere skirmish against kobolds. This will be a dire battle.”

“Then when do we leave?” asked Sir Lucas.

“You make me proud, laddie. The priests at the orphanage told me you had a destiny. This may not be it, but I’d honored to have helped ready you for it.”

The battle was epic, one which would be the subject of tales for ages to come. The forces of Heironeous were nearing victory when the enemy unleashed its final weapon, a hideous demon.

“Stay back, laddie!” bellowed out Sir Ibonek. “You’re good, but you’re not ready for this!” He then charged towards the foul creature and engaged it in an epic battle. Sir Lucas wanted to aid his friend and mentor, but he had been taught to follow orders.

Sir Ibonek did manage to defeat the beast, but lay grievously wounded on the battlefield as the enemy retreated. Sir Lucas rushed up to him. “My wounds are too great, laddie. I go to meet Heironeous now. Take my sword and armor. You’ve earned it. And never forget how proud you made me. But just learn to laugh a little.” And Sir Ibonek breathed his last.

After he helped the priest tend to the wounded, he spoke with one of the priests. “I want to devote my life to fighting evil, to avenge Sir Ibonek. What more can I do?”

“Vengeance is not for a paladin, Sir Lucas. But if you wish to continue to fight against evil, there are the Fists of Raziel.”

“Sir Ibonek spoke of them, but he said they were not for him. Tell me more.”

“Your mentor, great paladin though he was, was a little too… free spirited for the Fists. He had told me, though, that you might be a good candidate. Would you be…”

“Absolutely. I was told I have a destiny, and I know this is how I can to fulfill it.”

A Fist of Raziel

Sir Lucas was then sent to a stronghold maintained by the Fists of Raziel. They were impressed by his skill and zeal, and quickly accepted him into their number, gave him the necessary training, and performed the approrpiate rituals.

The Fists named him Lucas the Grim, because of his dourness, and his devotion to fighting evil that was zealous even by their standards.

He is now a new Fist of Raziel, ready to continue a crusade against all forms of evil.

Lucas the Grim

Machine of Lumm the Mad ArthurAdams