Post by Morgoth on Sept 1, 2013 12:08:36 GMT -8
Name: Morgoth
Class: Shaman
Hair Color: Darker than the abyss
Eye Color: Blood red
Age:16
Appearance: Normal build for sixteen year old with little physical activity besides walking
Clothes: Dark red tunic covered by a deep black cloak
Born in: Small village in Sacae
Story: Found a strange book in an abandoned house. Reading for several months, he soon found he could make things happen while muttering the words in the book out loud. One night he sneaked into a neighbors house and killed his family of three in their sleep to test his power, then running off into the night to find a teacher, or to find out how to control such power.
Ok now that the embarrassment is over...
Name: Morgoth Animus
Age: 20 (passage of time on WotW since creation)
Class: Druid 20/1
Appearance: Morgoth wears a dark blue shirt underneath his black cloak. His black pants match the cloak, so dark that one could almost get lost in it. A dark purple half- cape is slung over his left shoulder and tied around his neck. Few would forget his face, sullen but blood red eyes filled with hate. Many might say they can feel the anger and darkness emanating from him after catching his gaze, and some might say that without seeing it.
Personality: Morgoth has nothing but contempt for people and only interacts if he has to or for a possible chance to further his personal agenda. The reason for the beginning of his journey was lost to all except him, and even then it has evolved since then. What started as a boy wanting to show the world what pain was has lead to his contempt of Humanity. He found they knew pain but ignored it, continued on to cause more. They did not learn from what they did. And so he would show them, he would cause so much pain they would be forced to understand and learn; or they would die trying. In battle Morgoth is cold, no movement wasted and no emotion shown. He once enjoyed it and relished in it, but now watches with cold eyes as if to mock those he fights.
Backstory: None living remember who Morgoth once was and is from. But who he is was born on a cold night in Sacae. His parents were from a line of mages and his father’s family founded the village along with another clan. But in his time only a few buildings remain, and only two generations of each clan.
Morgoth grew up learning magic, but didn’t know of the dark elder magic until the day he fell into the old shack. It had belonged to his grandfather. The other clan had said he died long ago, but his parents seemed to think different. Whatever the case, in the center of the room laid a dust covered table, and on it a dust covered tome. It was here he learned of elder magic, and here his journey to become a great mage who would save Elibe began. Sadly that dream died a few years later on a cold sacaen night.
On the morn of that cold night, the other clan woke to even fewer buildings. All that was left of the other home’s eating area was little bits of wall. It was curved as if something circular had eaten it a way. The only thing in it was the boy, Morgoth. They took him in, even knowing what had happened. He didn’t touch the book again, not for many years. And over those years they watched as he became bitter, sitting before the empty graves they had placed for his parents. They watched as his tears dried and his eyes hardened, they watched a happy boy grow into a sad, broken man. He watched as they died.
It was nice day and the other family stood before their son as they said their goodbyes. It would be his first trip alone. Morgoth stood before the graves of his parents. He couldn’t take their happiness, it grated against him. Over the years they had watched, doing little to help him as he descended into darkness. And as the darkness grew, he found himself once again looking into the magic. The abyss called to him and he wanted it. The boy came home to an empty village the next day.
Since then Morgoth wandered, looking for a teacher, to become stronger so that he may teach people pain and perhaps find the ending to his. He was there as a city was burned to ashes and he helped a commander rid himself of his superiors. And he learned, but eventually he found himself pulled back toward the abyss and he wandered off. He tried to be a hero, to be what his mother said he could be; to help Elibe. But in the end he was almost devoured and found himself lost in his mind.
It was here Morgoth was found by a wandering healer named Irmo. And though this man could do little to heal the mind, he tried. So much so that Morgoth began to think his voice came from within. And Morgoth faded, lost in the recesses of his mind. Lost in a swirling mist he thought would consume him. He felt as if he would be lost forever. And then he awoke.
And so he decided he had found what his mother was talking about, his way to save Elibe. He would teach it before it forgot, he would teach it war and pain before it became addicted. He would teach it or it would die.
Class: Shaman
Hair Color: Darker than the abyss
Eye Color: Blood red
Age:16
Appearance: Normal build for sixteen year old with little physical activity besides walking
Clothes: Dark red tunic covered by a deep black cloak
Born in: Small village in Sacae
Story: Found a strange book in an abandoned house. Reading for several months, he soon found he could make things happen while muttering the words in the book out loud. One night he sneaked into a neighbors house and killed his family of three in their sleep to test his power, then running off into the night to find a teacher, or to find out how to control such power.
Ok now that the embarrassment is over...
Name: Morgoth Animus
Age: 20 (passage of time on WotW since creation)
Class: Druid 20/1
Appearance: Morgoth wears a dark blue shirt underneath his black cloak. His black pants match the cloak, so dark that one could almost get lost in it. A dark purple half- cape is slung over his left shoulder and tied around his neck. Few would forget his face, sullen but blood red eyes filled with hate. Many might say they can feel the anger and darkness emanating from him after catching his gaze, and some might say that without seeing it.
Personality: Morgoth has nothing but contempt for people and only interacts if he has to or for a possible chance to further his personal agenda. The reason for the beginning of his journey was lost to all except him, and even then it has evolved since then. What started as a boy wanting to show the world what pain was has lead to his contempt of Humanity. He found they knew pain but ignored it, continued on to cause more. They did not learn from what they did. And so he would show them, he would cause so much pain they would be forced to understand and learn; or they would die trying. In battle Morgoth is cold, no movement wasted and no emotion shown. He once enjoyed it and relished in it, but now watches with cold eyes as if to mock those he fights.
Backstory: None living remember who Morgoth once was and is from. But who he is was born on a cold night in Sacae. His parents were from a line of mages and his father’s family founded the village along with another clan. But in his time only a few buildings remain, and only two generations of each clan.
Morgoth grew up learning magic, but didn’t know of the dark elder magic until the day he fell into the old shack. It had belonged to his grandfather. The other clan had said he died long ago, but his parents seemed to think different. Whatever the case, in the center of the room laid a dust covered table, and on it a dust covered tome. It was here he learned of elder magic, and here his journey to become a great mage who would save Elibe began. Sadly that dream died a few years later on a cold sacaen night.
On the morn of that cold night, the other clan woke to even fewer buildings. All that was left of the other home’s eating area was little bits of wall. It was curved as if something circular had eaten it a way. The only thing in it was the boy, Morgoth. They took him in, even knowing what had happened. He didn’t touch the book again, not for many years. And over those years they watched as he became bitter, sitting before the empty graves they had placed for his parents. They watched as his tears dried and his eyes hardened, they watched a happy boy grow into a sad, broken man. He watched as they died.
It was nice day and the other family stood before their son as they said their goodbyes. It would be his first trip alone. Morgoth stood before the graves of his parents. He couldn’t take their happiness, it grated against him. Over the years they had watched, doing little to help him as he descended into darkness. And as the darkness grew, he found himself once again looking into the magic. The abyss called to him and he wanted it. The boy came home to an empty village the next day.
Since then Morgoth wandered, looking for a teacher, to become stronger so that he may teach people pain and perhaps find the ending to his. He was there as a city was burned to ashes and he helped a commander rid himself of his superiors. And he learned, but eventually he found himself pulled back toward the abyss and he wandered off. He tried to be a hero, to be what his mother said he could be; to help Elibe. But in the end he was almost devoured and found himself lost in his mind.
It was here Morgoth was found by a wandering healer named Irmo. And though this man could do little to heal the mind, he tried. So much so that Morgoth began to think his voice came from within. And Morgoth faded, lost in the recesses of his mind. Lost in a swirling mist he thought would consume him. He felt as if he would be lost forever. And then he awoke.
>< >< ><
Morgoth awoke, but he was in the past. His mind was healed, but he could feel the abyss now, in the back of his mind, waiting hungrily; waiting for him to ask for too much, to give away too much. And so he wandered, learning what he could. And so he completed his knowledge to the next level, finding that magic was easier to grasp in this new world, but also harder to control. Harder to keep the darkness at bay.And so he decided he had found what his mother was talking about, his way to save Elibe. He would teach it before it forgot, he would teach it war and pain before it became addicted. He would teach it or it would die.
