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Theme: God of Battle, Honour and War.

Symbol: bolt of lightning over a blue shield, jagged warblade
Holy Plant: slalich
Colours: blue and white
Temples: Padorn and Lonar

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.


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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