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Reminiscing about the past is not something I am fond of doing, given all that has been lost. At one time I was a king, but that kingdom has been laid to waste. At one time I was one of the most celebrated deities of the Celtic Pantheon, but the pantheon crumbled under the weight of its own diseased power struggles. I lost family and friends in the desolation.

At one time I was the Champion of the Sidhe and defender of all fey. I was a hero. I was revered. My reputation preceded me. I was the greatest of the high race of fey known as the Sidhe. Now the fey survivors are scattered to far flung realms of existence. I have found few Seelie fey, those of the lawful alignment like myself. I hope some Seelie Sidhe still live and are just in hiding. The Unseelie have coped with their change in circumstance far better. Their chaotic spirits adapt easier to the environments where they find themselves. The difference between Seelie and Unseelie is more than just the difference between light and dark. It’s the difference between civilization and the wild. Neither is truly ‘good’ or ‘evil’, just motivated by different goals.

I suppose the heroic tendency is not easy to shrug off, even though I have tried. I find myself on a hopeless self-appointed quest to build a realm of magic for all fey. A homeland. Since the old realm collapsed I have discovered a very disconcerting problem. I knew my magic was tied into the realm in which I once dwelled, but I had no idea just how true that was until I was without it. My new vulnerability is disconcerting and I am determined to hide the truth from friend and enemy alike.

For as you may know or have suspected, I am Lugh Samildanach of the Tuatha de Dannan. The Shining One. Son of Cian. Master of battle and sorcery. The Celtic god of the sun. I am the greatest of the high and glorious race of fey. Champion of the Sidhe. And the once and future king of the Seelie court.