David Mogan

Name: David Mogan
Seeming: Ogre
Kith: Render
Court: Autumn
Freehold: San Antonio
Virtue: Justice
Vice: Sloth 
Pronouns: He/him/himself 
==Physical Description==
Apparent Age: 
Height: 
Skin: 
Hair/Eye Color: 
Clothing: 
Detailed Appearance: 
Mantle: 
Noteworthy Merits: Striking Looks (2) 
Pinterest: David Mogan 
==Commonly Known==
David is commonly known to be someone you do not fuck with, if only because of the rumors surrounding those long talons of his and the stories about that one particularly nasty barroom brawl where he took out four men's throats in the space of two minutes. But we don't talk about that anymore, and all the witnesses later insisted that nothing of the sort had happened. Proud of being exceedingly lazy, David usually lets Troy do the talking... until Troy starts fucking up.
==Uncommonly Known==
David is the sometimes-lover of Fort Worth member Darryl Williams. 
== Omen ==
When you cast Omen 1 on David Mogan, you receive a vision.
It is Winter in the Hedge; you easily recognize the twists and turns of the thorny undergrowth, the frost on the branches sparkling in the bright afternoon sunlight. But the scene before you is anything but a winter wonderland. You are on what has clearly been a battlefield; the bodies of dead hobgoblins and slain Changelings litter the ground before you. In the vision, the scent of blood and death is almost over-powering, and you feel ill to your stomach from the heavy stench of it.
David is here, the Autumn shadows cast by his mantle picking him out as a dark scar on the ugly bright landscape; Darryl, nearby, is covered in bright blood that drips from his mouth and chin--the Gristlegrinder has clearly been busy in his work today. He stalks the field furiously in tight, angry paces as the Spring healers and Autumn chiurgeons race to do what little work is left for them to do, and as other members of the Freeholds begin the slow and solemn duty of gathering up the dead for burial.
David ignores them all, kneeling in quiet sorrow over the body of a fallen comrade: a Fairest girl who was surely once very pretty, but has lost in today's conflict most of her face and much of her hair and skin. Terrible burns cover her still body, and it's entirely clear that the girl is past any help. A delicate bow made of carved bone lies inches from her blackened fingers; she must have been one of the archers before someone or something doused her in fire and left her to die from her wounds. David clutches her lifeless hand and stares into the middle distance, unblinking and tearless.
"We've got to do something," Darryl fumes, pacing furiously. "You've heard what the Winters have extracted out of the goblin captives? That bastard Landon set this up, just so he could have a nice cozy little war!"
David does not look at his furious comrade, and indeed hardly seems to hear him. "We will do something, but it won’t be what he deserves," he finally murmurs softly. "He'll be killed, clean and quick. Or banished, more like. He may have arranged the war, but he didn't force anyone to fight. They could have talked to us. We could have talked to them. Ash and Imani will weigh the action rather than the result and they will be as merciful as always." He spits these last words out, but without real ire, his voice resigned and quiet.
"It never should have happened in the first place! He shouldn't have been able to take things this far!" Darryl insists angrily. His gaze flicks across the battlefield to where a pretty Fairest man, strong and lovely but with a sly and faintly untrustworthy face, is restrained under armed guard by several Summer warriors. "And he's the Fort Worth king, for fuck's sake! They're supposed to be better than that! Queen Aisha is furious. She's calling for them to retool the laws again, add something about 'malicious interference' to the harm clause." He shakes his head angrily. "At least she knows that Fort Worth will try. We're just going to pretend this never happened and nothing will change." An anguished cry escapes his throat at last. "And Lilah will have died for nothing."
The Render looks down at the dead girl whose hand he still cradles. He sighs then, and there's deep sorrow in that sound, even if little of it reaches his solemn face. "Then go be Fort Worth, Darryl," he says softly. "And help them change their laws and hope that it actually means something in the end." He looks back at the pretty Fairest man, and his eyes blaze to life with the purest of cold hatred. "And I think I'll go live in San Antonio for a time. At least until I can host a special Ash Run..."
Category:NPC
Category:San Antonio
Category:Autumn