Morag

On rare occasions, Cimmerians raid so far south, that they raid past what there is to raid and encounter peculiar unguarded cities with open doors for trading. And so, here is where the story begins, at the City of Merchants. Despite his Brutish appearance, one would at least assume some redeeming factors or qualities. There were none. Hither came Morag, the brute - A tall, mightily shouldered ogre with steely muscles rippling under bronze skin. Among his many attributes, he had almost mastered his native tongue and had advanced level analphabetism. His sword was gigantic and hopelessly phallic, and despite its size and weight, he wielded it with the elegancy and ease of a raging gorilla swinging a child. As the brute and his equally brutish raiding companions entered the city, they were received by friars. Unfamiliar with the perils of greeting barbarians, and unbeknownst to them, they had committed a horrible blunder. They had received the barbarians with the blessings of a foreign deity. And thus, a well-versed theological debate ensued. A friar claimed his god could grant wishes. Morag had wished for him to breathe underwater, as he drowned the friar in the well. Barbarians tend to avoid acting like dongs to each other, the way civilized folk do since barbarians all carry giant axes around. These civilized folk had none, so, the looting started. You have to remember, at this point in the story, the Barbarians had no idea they had screwed up. Little did they know, the city had a well-funded temple guard. Thus, the sacking turned into the fleeing. The barbarians fled the city, all but one. Morag had on this occasion knocked himself out running into a door hinge on his way out of a merchants hut with two armfuls of loot. And so, Morag's Exiled adventures commence.