Morgana (Vektren)

Mordred (Brother)

## Application Sheet

Morgana was a dark brown she-wolf with very pale brown eyes. Born outside of the Domain and separated from her brother Mordred, she arrived on the outskirts of Vektren, and was quickly taken in as a serf under her master, Countess Judith. She soon rose from serfdom to the rank of neophyte, and serves the pack to this day. Morgana was created and RP'd by Tygrhys.

## Personality

* ***Sage, Perceptive, and Affable.*** Morgana is the kind of wolf who enjoys looking after the physical and emotional needs of others. That is not to say she enjoys her serfdom; she dislikes but tolerates it graciously as she can. It is a station which sees her treated like dirt, and many Vektreni speak to her in a derogatory manner for it. To her mind, this is a divine test, a necessary step on her path to the Shunned Ones. After all, if she is to pledge herself to their servitude, she must first prove herself a loyal and able servant to wolfkind. She enjoys tending to others in a way which goes beyond her serfdom, some fundamental fact of her nature. It is a testament to her affable demeanour - she is kind, easy to talk to, patient and above all kind… if a little eccentric. If a Sibling in the Brotherhood is having a bad day, she is more than happy to be there, even quietly, to provide a meal, to chat lightly, or to discuss the issue, whichever the individual in question prefers. When in discussion, she is certainly a purveyor of sage advice which can come across as oddly profound for the strange swamp dweller. That is, before she goes back to rambling about frogs and fungi. Rambling is something she’s good at; it’s endearing once you’re used to it. Despite seeming bumbling and odd on the surface, Morgana is an impeccable judge of character. Perceptive - she is great at both detecting malicious intent and when a packmate is having a bad day. She won’t necessarily say anything outright in the case of the latter, but she’ll be there, if they need it, in her own stubborn little way.
* ***Obsessive, Eccentric, Superstitious, Stubborn, and Self-Righteous.*** Morgana is a wolf bound by duty, defined by it; or, perhaps, moreso by obsession. She is obsessed with balance, with the concept and pursuit of it. It consumes her mind and, above all else, drives what she does and has done since she was an avid student under her fathers in the wilderness. Back then, she devoured every scrap of Mhorian knowledge they bestowed unto her, completed her duties and practices with fervour. That wolf lives on now as a devout follower of the Shunned Ones and steward of the natural balance, a child of both Vektren and Old Mhor. Even as a serf she devours every scrap of knowledge she can about Vektren, silently listening to others speak as she serves.
* ***Dutiful, Stoic, and Parochial.*** She is an individual who faces life's tribulations in her own unique way. With a face of indifference to her own struggles she faces the world, with a pair of shoulders which dutifully take burdens and bear them without complaint. Just because she does not show it does not mean she does not suffer, but she lives in a world self-built of divine tests and punishments. Troubles thrown her way are just that; a thing to overcome, or to accept. She is driven almost as much by her obsession with the Gods as her obsession with balance. They are a part of that balance. She is grounded in her belief that they (she and the Vektreni) are morally correct, that her ideal of balance is correct and worldly and a pursuit greater than all others. She is set in it, a wolf as stubborn as an ass who is fixed in her ways. She is a steward of the Void and the Otherworld, her directives most imperative of all. Her directives must be kept, no matter the cost. The wicked must remain in the Void, no matter the cost. Balance – *balance* must be maintained, no matter the cost.

## Pre-Group History

Morgana is a descendant of pre-Calamity Mhor. She was raised with this mantle from the moment she was old enough to understand. She, like her fathers before her, and their parents before them, continued to follow and recite its practice, living in its memory even when they lived the life of wandering loners, isolated from all other followers who had survived. Blackthorn and Herne and her aunt Rosehip said there had been others once; Blackthorn and Rosehip’s sister, Elderflower, and their mother Sloe, and Herne’s parents, Cernunnos and Morri, and so many more. Elderflower decided to go her own way some years ago. Sloe passed peacefully of old age. Morri was killed in a tragic accident, and Cernunnos disappeared without a word not long after. He hadn't been the same after his mate had her life cut so horribly short. It was like that that their numbers slowly dwindled until it was just them, their little family of four. Still they held their faith, held it gently, like a kindling flame. Waiting, holding out hope for rebirth. Following the old ways, keeping them alive through them and passing on all they knew to generation after generation.

So, there was never any doubt in Morgana’s mind that she was *Mhorian*, a student of balance, of the Otherworld, dedicated to its stewardship. She was born on the cusp of winter and spring, just as the snowdrops pushed their winter-sleepy heads through patchy, melting snow. She was a strong, healthy single pup, daughter to Blackthorn and Herne but nursed by Rosehip, who acted as their surrogate. She was whelped into a world of warmth and overwhelming love. Their numbers may be small, but they had all they needed, they had each other, and they had their faith. Blackthorn was a warrior, gallant and strong. Their protector, but a scholar too, the most knowledgeable and devoted of them all to Mhor’s ways. Working in tandem with Herne, they could bring down good kills. Herne was a hunter, and a nimble-footed and sharp-witted tracker and scout with an unrivalled instinct to detect danger. Rosehip was a healer, gentle and kind. She would teach Morgana all she knew of the flora of the wilds, even when she was just a pup.

The family welcomed new life again when Morgana was hardly a juvenile, her younger siblings - but they were small and frail, and before long all but one had died. Her younger brother, Mordred. She loved him with her whole heart, her whole world. He was small and sickly, but a fighter like Blackthorn, struggling on even after Rosehip died before he was weaned, instead gently fed chewed meat by their fathers. She spent much time caring for him while their fathers were away hunting, and the two became inseparable. They played games, as Aewen and her traitorous knight - that was their favourite - and told stories, stories of when they were more than travelling vagabonds.

Some time in the autumn of that first year it was decided that Morgana would take her first reflection vigil. She spoke to her fathers and it was agreed that on the next full moon she would join them in their meditation while Mordred slept nearby, too young to partake. And so she did, staved off food for that holy day and then joined them in their vigil in the moonlight. Perhaps it was that pristine, openness of mind which let them in – an open door through which anything could slip in, fastening their wicked claws in the nooks of the mind. Instead of the Otherworld, she was greeted by dark, torturing shadows, murmuring of darkness and evil and bloodshed. She woke from her trance deathly cold and shaking, told her fathers everything she had seen and heard. After that she had nightmares, relentlessly, night after night. Horrible things which plagued her, of wars and massacre. Her fathers tried lavender, valerian, chamomile, poppy, any remedies they could find, comforted her with gentle words, but nothing kept the horrors at bay. Nothing let her rest easily.

By this time, the family was travelling south-east after hearing word of a mustering of Mhorian survivors, led by a new Arch-queen. While following this lead, however, there also came warning of a darker pack who followed unspeakable gods; the *Shunned Ones*, the flighty loner they spoke with told them. When her family settled for the night, Morgana crept away and tracked the loner (Herne would’ve been proud) and spoke with them in secret, learning more of this pack.

Vektren, they called it.

The Vektreni were stewards of what they called the Void (from what she could surmise; the loner was a creature of batty, nervous stutterings). They kept the balance of the world by keeping the wicked chained. And their Gods were calling her. Had been ever since that vigil. She told her kin nothing of this conclusion. And, another night not long later, she left them without a word, not even a goodbye to little Mordred, to whom she was the whole world: his beloved big sister. She disappeared into the night, just like that, headed for Vektren.

She arrived at the borders and howled on a hilltop, as the loner had instructed. She was greeted by a small party and discussed her desires to join them. She was taken in - and thrown in the Pits to be reeducated, made fit for servitude. After, days, weeks, of gruelling physical torture and psychological manipulation to reform her mind, she became convinced this was a necessary step. Proof of her devotion to her new Gods. Reformation in their image. *All beings must suffer to become pure*. This was her rebirth as a suitable member of the Brotherhood, as a child not of Blackthorn and Herne, but of the Dread Mother and Father. Reincarnation, that was what the Mhorians called this. This was *her* reincarnation, her rebirth. A new beginning.

Finally, she was dragged from the Pits, starved and bruised. As a serf and handmaiden of Vektren she would prove her dedication by doing their dirty, not-so-divine work. Changing their nests, keeping dens fresh, waiting at their hand and foot, doing whatever they bid her. Yes, this was all a necessary step on her path. *Journey before destination*. Soon, she would serve Senisteros and Xibalten just as they had intended.

## Trivia

* Morgana’s family is a completely separate group of Mhorian travelers; they never knew Rowena’s party which founded Mhor, much less travelled with them. They were traveling south-east at the time Morgana left, following rumors of the re-founding of Mhor and intending to join them if the rumors proved true.
* Morgana's build is inspired by the Vancouver coastal sea wolves.
* The games she and Mordred used to play of 'Aewen and her traitorous knight' could be considered to be derived from the hazy memory of Catriona, though her name was forgotten. Like the other Mhorians, the events of the Calamity were lost to time in her family, but the figure of the noble queen and traitorous knight (though Catriona was in reality a Scourger) remained.
* In her family, pre-Calamity Mhor is known as Old Mhor.
* Both her and Mordred are named after their grandmother Morri. Her full name was Morrigan. This is also the origin of Morgana's nickname, Mori.
* Morgana’s speech is a relatively fluid mix of both the Mhorian lexicon she was raised with and the Vektreni one which she is growing accustomed to.
* As a serf, Morgana strives to do her best. She makes an effort to appear submissive to ranked Vektreni - her superiors - and only speaks when spoken to, save for when it is necessary.

## External Links

* Official Application Sheet
* tygrhys's deviantART Gallery