Morgan Fitzholglen


Morgan Fitzholglen was once a mortal with the blood of his divine father trickling through his veins, who aspired to be an officer in the Ossian military. He passed the Combatant's Rite with ease and was given the mark of the Combatant and a handful of Ossian special forces soldiers to wage a shadow war against Grandia. Morgan's campaign was tireless, and though they lost the occasional squad member, most often victorious. It was through his squad's efforts that the mining community of Azure Peak was liberated and became the prosperous village it is now. As well, they liberated the stronghold of Angwar Keep, forged an alliance with the Jubruq of the Burning Lands of the South, prevented an extradimensional aberrant invasion, and eventually released and later imprisoned the Tarrasque.
Morgan was horribly ashamed at his part in the release of the Tarrasque, having been deceived by his government at the true purpose of his mission, so he made it his sole mission to stop the beast's rampage, a mission that his squad gladly took on as well. His father, The Holglen, came to his aid in the final struggle against the invulnerable beast at King's Crossing. The Holglen had tired of the life of an immortal and the responsibilities of godhood and sought death, but he needed someone to take his place. Morgan agreed to take on the responsibility and take his father's place in the pantheon, and in return The Holglen gave up his life to imprison the beast.
Now Morgan is one of the weakest of the new gods in the pantheon, though he is one of the most beloved in Ossia, with many cities taking him as their patron deity. Morgan must build his strength, strength his father gave up in the process of sacrificing himself to stop the Tarrasque, and quickly for he faces threats by the savage gods of Grandian and Infernian worship. The people of Azure Peak understand the new god's plight and so, because the god disdains human sacrifice, whenever a ceremony takes place a magic item is sacrificed in his name to lend the power of the item to his name. This can be as simple as pouring a potion on the ground or burning a scroll, but can be as expensive as breaking a wand or smashing a wondrous item.


Since becoming a god he has dropped his last name and followers refer to him simply as Morgan. Morgan almost always takes his quasi-gnomish form, which has elements of elven descent. He is short and slender, with pointed ears longer than those expected of a gnome, and shifting pools of quicksilver for eyes. His hair is cropped military short and he typically dresses in the royal blues of Ossian tradition. Although he normally adopts this form he occasionally will adopt the form of his old wolf companion Ashes, a gray colored timberwolf, although he retains the distinctive quicksilver eyes. Also on occasion he has been known to adopt the form of a Silver Dragon.
Morgan went through a period of adjustment to his godly role where he was incredibly dour and serious, quite unlike himself, but he has recently begun to lighten up and return to his good natured self. He is still a trickster, though he holds an air of responsibility, still a lover of women but not the heartbreaker of lore. He almost seems to be a teenager perpetually attempting to mature but also clinging to his youthful ideas of fun. It is quite appropriate then that the Combatant's Rite, a transtion to adulthood, in Ossia has been changed to include a dedication to Morgan.


Morgan's name is often uttered throughout Ossia, and indirectly worshipped by residents of Xalliman, fey and druids who still worshipped his father as The Holglen. He is the patron deity of illusion magic, youths reaching maturity, young lovers and of good natured tricksters.
Domains: Good, Trickery, Charm, Community
Favored Weapon: Wand/Ray (Ranged Touch Attack)
Symbol: A wand with ioun stones orbiting it

Rites and Traditions

Many followers of Morgan will regularly invoke his name when casting any type of magic, particularly illusions. Another custom adopted as of late is saying a quick "In Morgan's Name" or some variant, and spilling a bit of the potion they were about to quaff onto the ground before drinking. Used scroll paper is saved and burned, the ashes used when inscribing symbols for commune spells or the like.
24 February Morganaliea - The anniversary of Morgan's ascent. The ceremony typically involves a retelling of the story of The Holglen, and the story of The Tarrasque, some larger towns will even act it out. At the culmination of the "sermon" residents of the town then sacrifice what magic items they can at the altar. (This has resulted in one or two accidental mishaps, one notable one being an alchemical golem rising out of the congealed potion sacrifice pot, so extra care has been taken.) This lasts for as long as the residents keep on the sacrifice. Once a worshipper makes his offering he then proceeds to go and have a glass of wine and celebrate. That night, once the sun has set, the head priest will gather together the remains of all which was offered and pile it into a bonfire which is lit and usually Morgan will bestow his favor in the form of a show of light and smoke over the fire, typically replaying a scene of glorious adventure or romance.
Combatant's Rite -

Lineage of a Sorcerer (Original Backstory)

The backstory for Morgan Fitzholglen, written by his player Sgt Scott Stream. Though the the backstory may change, mainly names, I will attempt to stay as close to the source material as I can.

Ages ago when the world was still young, when Hallenhalanor was called the Wanderer he came upon a wonder in a cave beneath the fair Earth. There in a pool was one of the daughters of Demeter, half of spirit half of flesh, her beauty was death to mortals who dared to look, yet as all know Hallen Firstking did look… there he won the maid with his courage and rich tales of far off places and there she pledged her love to him sealing his fate.
It was a mighty node that she dwelt amidst and she could not leave into the faint magic of the world lest her spirit consume her flesh. So thereto he called his kin from far and wide and brought his gathered wealth. He paid Derro to delve for him a palace around the pool, and his kin settled in the vibrant magic of the forest above. There he worked, ever seeking for new ways to gather and hold magic, to carry it and hold it near, for it was his secret desire to take his wife out of her cave and into the rich world above, but to do so she must carry the magic with her. The Firstking so ordered his realm above that the artificers and masters of high magic were the highest of nobles, but second were those bards who best told the tales of far lands, evoking images and sounds and even the scent of those distant places. The wealth of the Firstking grew as his delving uncovered metal and gems from the heart of the Earth, but his greatest treasure was the fertility of his bride who bore for him children with astonishing frequency for one of elf kind. In his thousand year reign no fewer then three hundred children were born and each was perfect of form and feature and gifted at art and artifice. Into the houses noble the children of the Firstking married and in the fields of magic they moved with great gifts. It was a son of his that first made the Ioun stones that held fields of magic around the bearer. The stones were a start that eventually allowed the making of the jewels of the Firstqueen and led to her first royal tours of the growing kingdom.
Freed by her son and with her husband at her side the Queen traveled masked in a golden covering to protect the elves from her beauty, and with a word and gesture she tamed the wild elf tribes and the other fey creatures of the wider forest bringing all into the grand alliance. The power of the elves reached deep into the Earth where the Derro paid them tribute for the fruits of the forest above and far into the sky were the winged descendants of elves and celestials soared.
Yet as it does wealth, beauty and power attracted those that envied and lusted after it. In his thirteen hundredth year the king was slain in the north by an invading helldrake of enormous power. So powerful was his mantle that his death utterly destroyed the creature, yet with him gone the Queen could not be consoled. She stripped off her jewels and scattered them into the forest of the kingdom, each surrounded by spells and walked into the cold pale magic field of the world naked. She was consumed by her spirit and grief and joined her husband in the afterlife.
Those of the blood royal began the kin wars that darkened and divided the kingdom until Oberon the First took his sister from her husband and forced her to be his Queen. With their combined force of arms and magic they brought the fey kingdom back together under a darkened banner. The fifty or so remaining children of the Firstking either sought retreats or swore allegiance to Oberon. Yet his rule was cursed to end with him as his sister proved unable to bear him any children, nor did any of his mistresses. Seeing in the old elfking’s decline the possibility of another kin war the elves forced the king to sign the great charter that outlined the manner of choosing the king from among those of noble blood.
So the trials of mastery became the mark of rank among the elves and the greatest among them in standing was always the heir. Into this age was born a fiery ambitious daughter of the blood with a mastery of enchantment that was unmatched. Her ambition was to pierce the veils hiding all the Firstqueen’s jewels and so she sought to enchant the most masterful and devious of the Gnome masters of Illusion, the Dworkin…
In the battle of magic that ensued the two strove to master each other in body, soul and mind. So tightly were they locked by their fierce exchange of spells that spiritually they were united. Stunned by the outcome they could neither harm the other, nor, they found soon enough, bare to be apart. Instead of fulfilling her ambition the Enchantress and the Dworkin gave up their lives as part of a high magic that they unleashed…its power was to blur the barriers between races that made it impossible for the separate races to breed. In the place of their casting they left behind the Holglen.
Reared by talking badgers and unfettered in magic and spirit the Holglen seems to be an immortal of the forest, a folk hero of forest dweller, elf and humankind who came to know of him generations later. Halflings leave offerings for the Holglen in forest shrines and his high elf kindred have good reason to fear his many skewering of their dignity. Whether he is druid, a master of illusion or a demigod is a subject of scholarly debate, but he himself has been known to debauch with satyrs and nymphs, sleep with bears all winter and slip into the bower of the occasional bride on her wedding night in the guise of her beloved.
Several elf kings posted bounties on his head and were all made foolish in long elaborate plans. In the end he seemed to tire of his games and vanish into legend, but in actuality he came to enjoy the company of the short lived of the borderlands more then the long dull years of elfkind. Among the halflings, dwarves and men he goes by many names in different times and places, always stirring up longings for wandering, lust for the opposite sex and wonder at the possibilities of magic…

In the time of the Dragon Masters of the north one of the blacks hatched from the brood mastered the transformation to human form or found some device that allowed it. From the slave race he took the fairest of maidens to his lair and got half dragon children for his pleasure. Filled with the lust for possessions that is at the heart of all dragon-kind, yet also the nomad nature of their mothers people the growing tribe became wagon wanderers. They were protected by their patriarch who encouraged them to gather wealth and skills in wandering, but who also demanded for his protection a tithe of their profits.
In a few short centuries the dragon’s gypsys grew into known craftsmen with strange magical powers to see into hearts and enflame souls with dark passions by dance and voice. Their numbers remained few and their dragon heritage faded to the eye, yet they were also known for their curses, causing boils and sometimes blighting water holes where they were made unwelcome. It was their sires wealth gathered by them over centuries that was at last the undoing of the rovers. A group of jealous reds attacked the rich black in his lair and slew him. All but one of them paid for the attack with its life, but that one, laughing a mighty roar took all the wealth for himself. When he demanded the tribute continue and was denied his will by the scattered rovers he started hunting and destroying the bands. Those that could fled the north in any way that they could, pursued into far lands by dwarf fire assassins and the far roving red prince.
Those that were not quick enough were caught and plundered. One such band was deep in the borderlands between the elven lands and those of men when the dragon took them. From that ruin a single daughter was found and raised by an old wise woman.

In her thirteenth year the girl Morwyn buried her mother and teacher on a cold winter night. As her mother has told her, she had used the hole dug in the fall in the corner of the herb garden and filled it with the pile of dirt from the compost heap. In the spring she would plant the favorite herbs of her benefactor over the spot…as she stood weeping a young man stepped from behind the garden wall and looked at her with such wisdom and compassion that she was instantly trusting. The boy visited many days and finally offered to take her to his beautiful place in the forest if she would be his wife.
For five years the boy cared for her in the heart of a strange a fascinating household full of wonderful things. At last at the height of her beauty the boy, now at seeming full manhood gave her a child. While she was still nursing her son her man was away in the forest when suddenly the house seemed to shudder and fall apart around her. She realized that it was all made of magic and something terrible had befallen her man.
In truth the Holglen had been captured in a rune maze that was powered by an earth node he liked to frequent. Wizards from the north, long thwarted by him from their ambitions of cutting the forest and planting a town on the coast had set the trap by crafting stones with draconic runes while he was away and birthing his son.
It took him five long years to master the maze and alter the runes to allow him to escape and trap his enemies instead. By then Morwyn had fled deep into human lands.
With beauty and grace that was the envy of women and the desire of men she knew that she could make her way in the world and be a woman of substance, but caring for her child would mark her as a drab and lower her chances so she left the boy on the doorstep of a holy orphanage and took her skills and lore into the city where with her art she was soon married to a wealthy young merchant who was also a successful noble.
At eleven Morgan, the son, was stolen from the orphanage by his father. For six years the boy traveled with the Holglen, taught to be wood-wise and to master his emerging talents his father brought him to his familiar, a half wolf half hound that like him would never feel at home with either of its kindred. Morgan took the last name of FitzHolglen to mock his father who had never technically married his mother. Often left for a month or more in some spot and told “learn what the land has to teach you.” Morgan learned to accept loneliness and study deeply. Still at last his path separated from his father’s and he prepared to leave and learn what the elves would teach him. As a parting gift his father shaped a piece of obsidian into a special blade marked with the boy’s arcane sign. “This stone is of fire and earth with your magic at its heart, as you grow it will as well, guard it and it will guard you.”
So the boy went to live with elves that treated him with the mixed feelings that all half elves can expect. He found his magic was not something he could be learn, only refine, so he settled for learning his potions and magical scribing skills and moving back into human lands.
There Morgan soon found out that the country was under threat from the raiders and wizards of the north and other lands and he offered to work for them. At last he found a place where his skills were not only appreciated but rewarded. As a mage he soon held rank and his woodcraft allowed him to bring several minor missions home safe. At last the leadership saw that his skills and abilities would make a good compliment for a group of misfit long riders who were making a name for themselves in the north. So he was dispatched with orders to join them as an officer. As he left he sent word to his mother by military dispatch forgiving her for leaving him and telling her of his commission but leaving out the time with his father. Like all of her people his mother had aged very well. Though her husband had sickened after their fifth child when he had taken a mistress, his death made her a very wealthy and powerful widow and an influence in the politics of her city. Her sons and daughters were all pawns in her local schemes and the letter stabbed her right in the heart but also made her wonder how the man who was her son might be used to further her ambitions and the hunger that burned inside her. How long since her hand mixed healing herbs instead of the darker mixtures that snared minds and stole life? The first son…from the strange love of her life…what sort of man might he now be?