IC - IN CHARACTER - KNOWLEDGE
Theme:
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God of Battle, Honour and War.
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Symbol:
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bolt of lightning over a blue shield, jagged warblade
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Holy Plant:
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slalich
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Colours:
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blue and white
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Temples:
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Padorn and Lonar
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The Legend of Moran
It all happened on a cool day of Autumn, many
years before the great fire of Padorn. The mist had invaded
the whole country and even though it was still early in the
afternoon, a continual darkness covered the land.
The War had started over a century and a half before. And at
this date, The strong forces of Goarhuk had conquered the
southern part of Grassland and had wiped away almost all
forms of life in the country with his armies of orcs.
His forces were growing stronger everyday while
he slowly advanced his way to the south to invade the city
of Padorn.
Padorn was then one of few cities left with soldiers still
within its walls. Many who had the strength and the good
fortune of fleeing from the invaded territory came seeking
refuge within the walls of Padorn.
At the head of the remaining soldiers was a man
known by the name of Moran Eghiliel. Moran was a strong man
who had lead his forces to many victories in the past. Many
years had he lived on Xyllomer, but the time never seemed to
move fast enough for him as he had kept a strangely youthful
countenance for a man who was, according to many, over one
hundred years of age.
In fact, this remarkable fact got him the name of Eghiliel
among the elves, which means the Warrior of Time.
Aware of the presence of the forces of Goarhuk
to the north and fearing to be put under seige by them,
Moran decided it was in their best interest to march toward
his enemy instead of waiting for him. He also thought that
by acting in such way, he would benefit of the element of
surprise. Further he hoped that by moving toward the ennemy,
he might have a chance to meet Goarhuk who usually never
came near the battlefield when his troups were invading.
So Moran gathered all the men he could find to
go fight the armies of Goarhuk, and on this cool day of
autumn he marched out the north gate of Padorn, followed
by an army of brave warriors and merceneries who had united
their forces for one common goal: to fight for their lives
and the lives of their families. Among his ranks, were also
some wise mages of Atlantis, who had managed to escape when
Goarhuk invaded their land.
Almost all the men and even some women were gathered
together on this day. And as the bards were playing the
tunes of glory to raise the spirits of the army moral, they
started their journey into the northern woods of Padorn,
toward their destiny.
A few hours after the sun had passed the
zenith, the two forces finally met.
One of the biggest battles in the history of Xyllomer was
fought on that day. Taken by surprise, the armies of
Goarhuk were in disorder and lost, at first, a great deal
of warriors. But as his armies were more numerous than their
opponents, they regained the advantage over Moran's forces.
The battle was without mercy. Piles of bodies covered the
ground of the forest and plains. The leaves on the ground
wore their red colors of autumn, but this time the turn of
the season was not the reason for their tarnish red color.
The air was filled with screams of agony and pain and the
darkness of the forest was occasionaly pierced by flashes of
light and the flicker of magical fire.
But as the sun set on the horizon, the men of
Moran were getting fewer by the minute.
Then it happened. Moran's gaze met with the eyes of Goarhuk
himself. Driven by his courage, he ran towards him and as he
ran he raised his Warblade into the air and challenged the
cruel leader of the orcish army.
People fled from his path terrified by the fire in his eyes
and by the rage and determination visible on his face. A
furious battle then took place between Moran and Goarhuk.
Moran was clearly winning the battle, piercing and slashing
the flesh of Goarhuk on many occasions, leaving wounds on
his opponent which any normal human would've died from. But
as he raised his magnificent blade to strike the final blow,
a cold blade was slid between the joints of his armour from
behind, and it pierced his body and soul, throwing him to
his knees.
Seeing his fortune turned in his favour,
Goarhuk smiled cruelly at Moran as he feebly attempted to
stand again, pain misting his eyes. As soon as he could
see past the haze of pain, Moran gathered all the strength
left in his soul and grabbed Goarhuk by the leg, and with a
powerful shove of his broad shoulder he sent the orish
leader flying backwards onto the ground.
Then, rising to his knees and overbearing Goarhuk, Moran
screamed and plunged his Warblade deep into the heart of
his enemy. The scream was so loud, that the Legend says his
voice was heard all over Padorn and Razza.
After his strike, Moran collapsed on the ground and then as
the Legend says all the souls of the dead warriors left
their bodies and floated towards Moran's dead form, entering
his corpse with flashes of light. His body lifted into the
air and exploded in a thundering sound, in concert with
bolts of lightning cutting across the clear sky of Xyllomer.
Inspired by the courage of Moran and their
new faith in him, the few warriors left fought on with
renewed energy, lifted by the new strength, a new power
they could feel on the battlefield.
The orcs were then driven away into the woods by the
fearless warriors. This is how an end was put to the War of
Goarhuk, and this is how Moran left the mortal world to
enter the Realms of the Gods. It is said that he is now
omnipresent on all the battlefields, guiding all Warriors
in their battle and standing by their side to face the
enemy.
OOC - OUT OF CHARACTER - KNOWLEDGE
Born a mortal and raised by the Pantheon on the day of his
death from the battlefield to join them, Moran has since
been worshipped as the god of war and battle. He does not
care about reasons or goals, all that matters to Moran is
the battle. Due to his earthly heritage he is considered a
Minor God, and his concerns encompass not the picture at
large but each single battle in its detail.
Parallel to his elven name of Eghiliel, the Warrior of Time,
he has been worshipped under the name of Tempus in the city
of Lonar. Here he has basically the same aspects with an
emphasis on the fight of everyday survival in the harsh
climate of the desert lands.
Within the world people usually see Moran as a neutral
god, for his followers may tend to both sides of the
struggle, eager only for the battle itself.
Among the Pantheon
Moran is regarded as neutral.
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