Mukguk

Mental characteristics

Personal history

Mukguk's earliest memories are of loneliness. He doesn’t remember his parents, his kin, or even how he came to be alone in the hills—only that he was. The rolling green slopes and jagged cliffs were his home, but no matter how many caves he claimed or how many rivers he followed, he always felt like something was missing. He had no tribe, no family, no one to share a meal with when the cold winds howled through the valleys.
For years, Mukguk wandered from place to place, trying to find where he belonged. He wasn’t much of a fighter—at least, not compared to the mean-spirited ogres and brutish hill giants he sometimes encountered. What he did have was a love of song and drink, two things that rarely earned him friends. His voice was deep and bellowing, full of heart but not much skill, and the only thing he could brew was a strong, bitter wine made from wolfberries—a drink that even goblins turned their noses up at. But to Mukguk, it was perfect. A sip of his wolfberry wine warmed his belly and made the world feel less empty, if only for a while.
It was the trolls of the swamp who first gave him hope. Mukguk stumbled upon their camp one foggy evening, and to his delight, they didn’t chase him off immediately. He shared his wine, he sang for them, and for the first time in his life, he felt like he might have found a home. That hope shattered quickly. The trolls, unimpressed by his off-key singing and constant babbling, declared him “too loud, too stupid, and too soft” for their kind. One even tried to take his wine, calling it “swamp piss” before tossing the jug into the muck. Heartbroken, Mukguk left before they could do worse.
Since then, he’s kept searching. He still dreams of finding a nice, strong hill giant woman to settle down with, someone who might appreciate his singing, his wine, and his company. He tells himself that maybe—just maybe—there’s a tribe out there that won’t mind that he’s a little too chatty, a little too tipsy, and a little too eager to make friends. He just needs to find them.
Until then, Mukguk keeps wandering, carrying his jug of wolfberry wine and his foolish hope that someday, someone will want him around—not just for a night, but for good.