Lucan grew up privileged, skilled, and above all, arrogant. The youngest son of a tribal chieftain in a Elven forest kingdom, Lucan is the young gun everywhere that he goes, even amongst humans and the other shirt lived races. Always brash, always confident, and unwavering in his opinions, Lucan has only ever truly respected his father, even seeing his eldest brothers as less than he.
From the time he could walk, Lucan was trained for the hunt, learning how to track an animal over bare rock, and efficiently dispatch it when it was inevitably found. Far too often as a boy Lucan’s father had to scold him for hunting lethal and dangerous prey, far too much for a boy his years. Still though, the young elf never failed, and never as much as sustained as much as a scratch from his quarry. Naturally silent and with the keen aim of the famed Elven archers, Lucan killed before anything even realized he was there.
By the time he had reached his teen years, Lucan had slain every type of creature in the forest, and was regarded as the best in the tribe when it came to using a bow, no small honor. Soon after, he began accompanying his father and brothers on weeklong expeditions to the depths of the feywild, honing his craft further. Just over a year ago, Lucan began undertaking these expeditions on his own, his brothers only accompanying him when they were to raid a Fomorian stronghold or some evil fey glen.
The last of these treks was a reconnaissance mission to to an Eladrin citadel who were believed to have been abducting elves as slaves from the material plane. As fate would have it though, the Eladrin were in fact abducting elves from the village, and they had an insider there feeding them information, including the fact that this little group was coming to check things out. A few hundred yards from their target, Lucan and his brothers were ambushed, the Eladrin wizard in charge having been informed that they would approach from the south under cover of darkness. The brothers fought valiantly, killing triple their number, but the Eladrin were far too numerous.
Having seen his eldest brother pierced through the eye with an arrow, and his other brutally beaten and restrained, the pragmatist in Lucan won out. Cowardice it was not, Lucan saw that to stay was to die, much as it pained him to turn his back on his kin. His father would have to be told the gravity of the tribes plight.
Fleeing into the forest, Eladrin hot on his trail, Lucan concentrated not on a destination, but merely evading his pursuers, something he did all too well. Before he had even realized it, the Elf had hastily run into one of the numerous portals that dotted the feywild, being spit out in the City of Doors.
Even if he knew how to get home, Lucan isn’t sure that all that didn’t happen for a reason. After all, there was no bigger game, no bigger challenge, than out here.