Name: Morwyn

Age: 21

Gender: Female

Appearance: 5'1", long somewhat curly brown hair, green eyes, plain features. She has a small, partially curled pair of horns that come out a few inches above and behind her ears, for this reason she is typically wearing a hood. She has a few pieces of light leather armor, most notably a full chest piece and two gauntlets. She will wear whatever loose clothing fits her most comfortably.

Her prized possession is her short sword which lays across her back. She owns two long daggers as well, which sit on her belt, one on each side of her hip. Her sole companion is a sturdy sorrel horse, who carries all of her worldly possessions on his back.

Personality: Morwyn is cunning, but not at all unfriendly. Her lifestyle has left her rather starved for meaningful interaction, in fact, she often seeks out connections even if the subject doesn't exactly reciprocate her interest. She tends to be matter-of-fact about things, often lacking the tact or simply the desire to draw out a conversation, soften her criticism, or censor her thoughts. Even so, she knows how to be convincing, and won't hesitate to say anything so long as it gets her what she wants.

Even if she doesn't act right away, she never forgets when she's insulted. She'll get you back one way or another. 

[hider=History:] Morwyn was born in the rolling eastern hills of Ireland. Her parents were but humble sheep herders and farmers. When her mother became pregnant, they were overjoyed. It had taken many of her mother's years to conceive, in fact, they'd been quite sure she was completely barren. When her mother's belly began to swell, she and the father praised and thanked the heavens. Though there was always the chance to miscarry, they believed with incredible conviction that their babe would be born healthy and whole. They were blessed, they often said. A miracle had happened.

Or, so she had been told when she had traveled back to her birthplace in her youth. Morwyn was the first and only child her mother ever bore, for the babe's two sharp tiny horns on the top of her head had ripped her mother open beyond any chance of repair. Her mother bled out the morning she gave birth, and that night the father, mad with grief, carried his only child away and abandoned her in the woods. He believed her cursed, and left her without even a name, to die in the chill of the night if she were lucky, or by the teeth of an animal if she were not.

Fortunately for Morwyn, a nomad had happened upon her that night. The woman was of a curious sort, but took it upon herself to raise Morwyn as her own. Never did she lie however, Morwyn always knew she wasn't her mother, but in spirit Morwyn loved her like one. She was a sorceress and a swordsman both. She traveled across the countryside, offering her talents as a warrior for hire when she needed money, and living off the land when she could not. Morwyn traveled with her for most of her years, learning all that her guardian could possibly teach her. They explored the world together. But eventually her god mother was slain in battle, and it was such a petty thing, too. Two households warred against each other in dispute over land. She didn't even have the honor of being struck down with a blade, a lucky arrow had struck the woman in her lung from behind.

From that day on she was alone. Currently she travels the countryside, for her guardian had instilled in her a deep yearning for new horizons. Never could she find it in her to stay in any one place for too long. And all the while she seeks out masters to help her practice her beloved craft, for like her god mother she too was enamored and fascinated by the workings of magic. Mastering the runes has quickly become her life's passion.[/hider]