Morgana Uciliece
Legacy Name: Morgana Uciliece

Who she is

Like a wandering entity – a lost ghost found roaming listlessly with an empty purpose. Lingering in the mixed worlds of life and death until their work is completed, oddities and estranged behavior douse the young maiden. Beauty, a work of art she drowns in idolized admiration. While she has a habit of belittling herself and perhaps contradicting herself in some sense. She finds herself to be a repulsive beast, being born the only child with the odd coloration compared to her siblings who predominately held the colors of red, and greens passed down from either parent.

Admiring those whom she would deem to uphold the hostelry of beauty and glamor, Morgäna is a quiet, envious young woman keeping to herself with a small abrasion. Leaving her oft with a void, empty sense. Haunting like a lost ghoul. While she may hold hatred in her position, she will fight for her place with such savagery akin to her warlord mother. A spool of darkness defined in a reserved hardly reclusive essence of serene tranquility entangled in her deep plum-indigo strands. With her questions stirring left and right, her facade conjures an expression almost impossible to read, decorating in a blank, stoic apathetic expression.

Her Story

It has been so long since the departure of my birth home. A war defiled the lands and my spars were unjust. I fought a man against my own as he had been the first to strike. The shrilling screams of my mothers' voice still taunts me in her petty worries. Shoulder mangled and ribcage broken, am I taken from the battle by my tiger-knight companion without a name. A stranger man finds me mends my wounds against my words of digressing. I thought it my time to depart from this world. This cold, cold world. Frightened and startled by this man, he'd fix the brokenness I carried at the time and offered me teachings and a platonic companionship amidst my self-exile. Still, a hole filled my chest, leaving my homeland. They thought of me to be no longer among the living. My family and what was once considered friendship. They had given up on me, which in due time just showed my place was nowhere. A lost wandering soul, an ugly little duckling I had always considered myself to be.

Eventually, I shared paths with the mad blind man afterward on several occasions. After the rage of storms dwindled, was it not long before I was received a lantern, similar to the one carried by the mad blind man. I named it Envy; it is crafted of wonderful pyrite with a purple-blue wax stick on the inside with a burning white flame. I've come to understand that my own lantern has a precarious personality of its own. I've since claimed the kingdom of the condemned through spilled ichor, and scattered bodies. I was unprepared and often times loathe my crown, never wishing to fall into the steps of my warlord mother."

Rruling a Kingdom came with its trials and tribulations. The faces of the uncertainty of the commoners, to the whispers of ire passed amongst the council. It was not uncommon for the monarch to disappear - whenever the work became heavy, or the challenges of ill-tempered magic flared. Where aid would be offered by her tiger-knight familiar or blind mentor did she deny them. Walls she created in means to protect herself. That was until an outsider sought an audience with her...

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