Sigil: City of Doors

Name: Lucullus Dendrith.
Race: Human
Age: 63
Origin: Toril, the realm of Tethyr.

Appearance
He gives the impression of dignity, respectability and duty. His features, though not unpleasant, are too sharp and angular to be considered truly attractive while his frame, usually concealed by his loose-fitting robe or heavy armour, is stocky and muscular, owing to several decades of rigorous training and service.

Though his hands are calloused and his skin lined slightly with age, he maintains a fairly youthful complexion, a healthy glow to his pale skin and a body unmarred by scars, aside from a long, vicious looking mark across his stomach which he has neglected to heal.

By his left eye a small teardrop is tattooed, the ink faded to a pale grey.

Personality
He is a priest of Ilmater and is zealous and unflinching in his faith and twofold duty: the soothing of the abused and the righteous destruction of the abuser.

A life of hunting and executing the sadistic has bred an inquisitive, somewhat judgemental mind. Though he will always present the impression of courtesy and friendliness, he will remain somewhat detached until he has the true measure of someone.

He is a harsh judge of character. He treats those he sees as fools with rudeness and disrespect, reserving a righteous - and slightly self-righteous - rage for those he thinks sadists or torturers. Should he witness such behaviour first-hand, he would happily execute the perpetrator on the spot.

Should one match his rigorous standards, however, he proves a warm and good-humoured companion with an occasional tendency to pessimism and self-deprecation.

The first page of a large book, in which journal entries are interspersed with medical learning, all inscribed in a heavy, perfectly consistent script, reminiscent of inscribed scripture.

Logbook, Volume XIV

May all I write within be to His glory.

Events, Chronological.

Arrived in Sigil.

Re-commenced training regimen.

Commenced His service. Gave minor healing to the injured. Provided alms, blessings and healing to the people of the Hive until being robbed. Returned fully armed and armoured; ably deterred those wishing to hurt me, also those in need of help. Am considering new approach.

Endured the taunts of fools.

Found companionship and comrades.

Have partaken in a distasteful mission - aim to minimise pain inflicted by group. In progress.

Observations, Personal

Sigil is a dark and godless city. Though I am cursed with the lack of fellowship His church provides, it at least means the sadist congregations do not hold any sway.

Respect and discipline are commodities in short supply here. I yearn for drill, for the company of my brothers-in-arms.

There are some people against who I am sure he would forgive unjustified violence.

The lady Manon has proved a worthy and agreeable comrade and perhaps friend. Must inquire further regarding her god.

People seem to lack the disgust reflex torture should invoke. I pray this an isolated phenomenon.

The undead woman acted nobly and without hesitation. I will seek her out and ensure her wellbeing.

The glee the Doomguard take in destruction is eerily familiar. Would that I had my old command to put a permanent end to this 'quest' rather than simply mitigating its potential carnage.

Comments, to be recorded further

I have taken up the vestments of my knighthood in place of my initiate's garb without the express order of the higher clergy. Here I present my reasoning.

Reason One. I suspect the duties and callings of this environment better suit the station I previously held.

Reason Two. There is no Church structure here in which a rank subordinate to higher priesthood can serve effectively. The more independent nature of my former duty makes it better served to my new-found separation from our fellowship.

*A few lines are left blank, a slip of paper marked 'Obtain more reasons before submission. Lucullus.' left as a bookmark*

I am to send a formal request today, tomorrow at the latest. May my haste in unilaterally taking up the vestments be forgiven. In expectation, I will serve the old duties to my utmost ability.

Comments, personal, not to be further recorded

My penance be damned. This is a city for soldiers.

Event, Singular

I attempted to do my duty against a murderer and controller of murderers. I was bested and captured. In place of my deserved death, another offered himself. Fortunately, it appears we both walk free and breathe still.

I have given my word that I will interfere no further in my foes affairs. May He forgive me for breaking that word.

Observations, personal, not to be recorded

How foolish to think myself more than I am, to think myself the equal of my former days. The delusions of an old man.