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Morgen religion/tradition

Morgen language and names are based in ancient Celtic, Welsh, and Arthurian culture.

dd: pronounced with a th sound
wy: pronounced as whe, such as in the word when
f: pronounced as a v
ay: pronounced as a hard e, as in the word ear

The Morgen religion (or the Old Religion) is based loosely on the pagan section of Wicca. Morgens cast spells via rituals which require concentration and a calm environment. They worship many deities, mainly the Triple Goddess. 

Known for their benevolent nature, healing the sick, and their practice of water magic, they worship the Hysbys, their deities.

Arglywdd (the father of the gods)
Brenoff (the god of the rivers, lakes, and waterways)
Rhyfel (the war god)

Gwynry (the goddess of virginity and innocence)
Mamau (the mother of the gods)
Nain (goddess of plots and witchcraft)
Noswydd _(the goddess of night)_

Much of the legends of the Morgens are based on that of the Arthurian romance era and the writings of Geoffrey of Monmouth.

The Gwiddonod (pronounced GWI-thi-nahd): Ancient Morgen texts tell of a time when the practice of their religion will be outlawed and a young sorcerer/sorceress will guide the future ruler of Ealmoor to restore magic to the realm. The prophecy has already begun to be fulfilled, with the birth of Gwynefayre and her subsequent arrival in Ealmoor.

The Cup of Life: It is said that only the most powerful and pure of Morgen sorcerers can wield the power of life and death. When the Cup is used to save a life, a life must be sacrificed to restore the natural balance. Beware, however, the Old Religion is a tricky thing, for not always will the life offered be the one which is taken.

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City name: Hexion
Location: the deserts in the south
Landscape: sandy, waterless, has some small grasses and wild herbs
Climate: harsh, unforgiving heat during the day and punishing cold at night
Government: monarchy
Residents: Khajiit, Argonians, succubi, Dunmer
Natural resources: diamond, various herbs, clay, sandstone

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The Forest of Noswydd

The Forest of Noswydd is a spacious area of dense, old trees. It contains the remains of an Old Religion shrine to the goddess Noswydd, which has become overgrown with lichens and ivy, and is still guarded by the high priestess, Nimuë.
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City name: Wyvern Rock
Location: the mountain ranges approximately five days' March northeast of Ealmoor
Landscape: rocky mountain terrain, dotted with coniferous trees and low lying shrubbery
Climate: harsh winters and wet summers
Government: monarchy
Residents: Altmer, Bosmer, Nords
Natural resources: iron, flawless rubies, timber

So many little time

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The Mad King

This girl won't be the last to die on your behalf. You're going to be King. It's something you'll have to get used to.

Name: King Atrox Pindraco
Alias: Atrox the Atrocious
Age: 55
Race: Imperial
Hair: grayish blond
Eyes: right is gray blue and left is totally white
Facial structure: square jaw, crooked nose, scar from the right side of his hairline to his upper lip
Height: 6' 2
Build: imposing, but slightly chubby
Armor: imperial heavy
Footwear: imperial boots
Jewelry/Tattoos/Piercings: wears his wife's wedding ring round his neck
Weapons: Blade of Ealmoor
Occupation: king
Random facts: he's kind of a douche and super racist
Personality: very prejudiced and anti Morgen, but cares for his children. Severe, tyrannical
Bio: After his wife died giving birth to his youngest son, Asriel, who was conceived by Morgen magic, he blamed the the sorceress Nimuë, and so began persecution of all of Morgen decent. It was he who lead the massacre which destroyed the tribes when settlers first began to arrive. Atrox is seen as an immutable ruler, with his laws upholding duty and tradition while defying the use of Morgen magic. All magic users and people suspected of using magic were killed under Atrox's command. It was his hatred of magic and severe punishment of those who used it that ultimately caused his ward, Aquli to turn against him. Her subsequent betrayal proved to be an emotional blow that Atrox never overcame, leaving him a broken man in the final stretch of his reign.
Family: Igerna (wife, deceased), Aquli (illegitimate daughter), Asriel _(son)_

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[NAME]: Ranafère Faril

[ALIAS]: The Bane of Ghosts

[AGE]: 29

[RACE]: Aitig

Black Hair
Gray-White Eyes
Well defined cheekbones
Thin eyebrows
Height: 6'2"
Build: Toned, Well Built

Armor and Weapons
Shrouded Ghost Hunter Armor
--> Hooded Black Light Armor

 Silver Greatsword

Bind: Connects the Silencer to the Ghost, allowing the Silencer to pass in between Realms. 

Banish: Temporarily sends a Ghost back to the Land of the Lost, a sort of Purgatory for ethereal beings. 

Bound Sword

Backstory: His father killed his mother. His mother came back as a Ghost and killed his father. This set Ranafère on a path of intense study, and work into the laws that govern Aetherius, as well as the Realms in between.

Ranafère is a Silencer, one of seven in Harbrough. The circle started in Tamriel, yet one ventured to Harbrough in the third century of the fourth era to establish a new chapter, once news of Ghost sightings and mysterious murders started to crop up in the area. 
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Race name: Ysbrydion
Human/Elf/Beast: magic anomaly
Evolved from: unknown
History: When the peaceful tribes of the Morgen, a Breton race of spiritualists and healers, was massacred by angry settlers who disapproved of the Morgens' worship of false deities; all but five were slaughtered. These five called upon their gods and lay a curse upon the settlers, which caused them to lose themselves in the water meadows that the Morgen once called home. Those lost were cursed by the Morgen gods to forever roam the meadow, trapped between life and death in eternal torment.
Abilities: Ysbrydion ate gifted with the same enchanting voices as the Morgen, and can call for victims in a voice which they know. Their mist like form makes them invulnerable to attack from anything but bound weaponry
Appearance: The Ysbrydion can be of any living race and appear semi translucent. The Ysbrydion of the murdered Morgen appear slightly bluish green and mist like, residing in the waters with lanterns to lure in those who have done them wrong.
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Destiny's Call

「open +Darth Denarius​」

The sun is rising a beautiful pinkish hue over the moonstone walls of the city of Ealmoor, bathing the whole city in a rosy glow. Despite the beauty of the dawn's first light, what has caused the gathering of many townsfolk is a crackling bonfire. Nay, a pyre.

The townsmen jeer as a young man is lead, face covered to the great fire. He is bound to a stake at the center of the fire as a powerful looking man shouts from the palace window above.

"This man, Emrys Drygonsvain, stands guilty of the crime of heresy. The only judgment that can be passed for the worship of false idols is death..." he smiles thinly. "May the Divines have mercy on your wretched soul."

A small but pretty figure, fay like in appearance, steps through the guided silver gates. Her dark hair is loosely plaited to her slender waist, where the tip hooks into the strap of her moleskin satchel. Her pretty, arching ankles are decorated with silver jewelry. Though her blue eyes cannot see, she is drawn to the sound of crackling flames and excited murmurings.

"Let it be known, that those found practicing Morgen magic will be brought to justice. There is no room in my city for their vile ways." the man continues, hand raised. "The only good Morgen is the Morgen that has been tamed."

The girl's face drains of color at this announcement. Mother had warned her of the extreme hatred that boiled hot through the Empire's crowning city, but she never could have imagined an execution by burning at dawn. She is a peaceful thing, as were most of her kind; the sword that hangs from the elegant sheath in her belt is one which she has never used to harm a living creature. The blade has never been christened with enemy blood.

As the condemned man burns, his screams shoot straight into Gwen's chest, causing her to clutch her breast in pain, sinking to the floor. The pain of the man...of her people. She can feel it all.

"Stop... Stop please!"


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A Great Destiny

Do you think I sit around and do nothing?! I haven't had a chance to sit around and do nothing since the day I arrived in Ealmoor, I'm too busy running around after Asriel - do this Gwen, do that Gwen - and when I'm not running around after him I'm doing chores for you and if I'm not doing that, I'm fulfilling my destiny - do you know how many times I've saved his life? I've lost count - do I get any thanks? No - I have fought griffins, witches, bandits, I have been punched, poisoned, pelted with fruit, and all the while I have to hide who I really am because if anyone finds out, Atrox will have me executed. Sometimes I feel like I'm being pulled in so many directions I don't know which way to turn!

Name: Gwenhwyfar
Alias: Gwen, the White Fay, the White Ghost, Gwiddonod
Age: 17
Race: Morgen
Hair: dark brown
Eyes: deep blue
Facial structure: Very fay like, with a small upturned nose, large eyes, full but small lips, and freckles.
Height: 5' 2"
Build: slender, slight, very elegant and otherworldly
Armor: bluish green robes of cotton which have been enchanted to assist in magicka regeneration
Footwear: sandals crafted from freshwater pearl
Jewelry/Tattoos/Piercings: a blessed amulet called the Armor of the Triskelon, which provides protection from most harm by shocking enemies which get to close.
Weapons: a beautiful blade of Morgen crafting titled Genhynd, of gold, steel, and moonstone.
Occupation: alchemist's apprentice, servant
Random facts: character is totally based on BBC's version of Merlin, won't lie.
Personality: snarky, self sacrificing, wise, caring
Bio: As a child, she had been told the stories of the demise of the Morgen and the destiny which awaited her. Her mother sent her to live in Ealmoor as apprentice to the Empire's physician, an old man called Dyn. There, she lived in fear, protecting the heir to the throne, slowly falling in love with her destiny.

The Gwiddonod
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