Morgäna Uciliece
This world is filled with monsters
Morgäna joined on 05-02-2017 and is played by Okie.
They have accumulated 12 posts ( Find All Posts ), 2 threads ( Find All Threads ), and they were last seen 5 hours ago.
Age: Human | 24
Gender: Female
Species: Canidae
Tribal Rank: Eastern Vagabond
Spiritual (magic) Rank: Conciever
Biped Syndrome: Yes
Stones ❂: 119.00
This user has no items.


Energy • Constant Activity, Untamed Presented in lilac-stained electrical currents, sometimes in small waves through finger tips though primarily seen in action with the amethyst-diamond strung around neck.
Shade • Dormant, Undiscovered Manipulation of shadows, eventually will allow camouflage and manifestation of shapeless dopplegangers
Slowed Healing • Defect Mutation Varying on the severity of injuries, regardless how much effort to heal, wounds take a slow and painful stead to repair. Some injuries are known to take years to completely heal.
Shape-shifting • new discovery Allows body to break down and restructure into smaller creatures such as small reptiles, small avians or aquatic creatures. This only lasts for a short duration and is incredibly painful in the aftermath since this involves the body to reshape itself.
More to discover in time . . . .


Jackal • Curious, avaricious mentor blind man. Early times of war where inevitably he found her beneath aspen painted in red.
Poltergeist • Mutual indifferences, if not, lingering apathy They simply know of each other through similar acquaintance


White Tiger • 4YR | Male | Nameless | Guardian & Voice of Reason
Lantern • Gift, Pyrite Gold frame; blue-indigo candle, white flame | Envy | Guidance


Human | Angelina Jolie

• Fair-skinned
• Muted plum hair; few strands of white or black
• Nickel-white eyes
• Scars and Injuries: View
Art (c) Namaste


Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,

Voice ; Lust FMA | An enigmatic plum base coats long tendrils which cloak the hushed, quieted woman. In possession of a sleek and slender body passed on from her mothers inevitable perfected grace and facade – yet she holds no coloring passed and intertwined of the brilliant reds, oranges or greens from either side. From the tip of her nose to the edges of her brows, is painted in true black, matching her paws and legs. “Stockings”. White stripes paint down her lower back to about a fourths length down her tail; the hairs of her tail extending in abnormal lengths. Longer than what would be deemed as normal. The platelets in her mouth are a brilliant white, matching her nickel-silver white pupil-less eyes.


Like a wandering entity – a lost ghost found roaming listlessly with an empty purpose. Lingering in the mixed worlds of life and death until their work is completed, oddities and estranged behavior douses the young maiden. Beauty, a work of art she drowns in idolized admiration. While she has a habit of belittling herself, and perhaps contradicting herself in some sense. She finds herself to be a repulsive beast, being born the only child with the odd coloration compared to her siblings who predominately held the colors of red, and greens passed down from either parent. Admiring those whom she would deem to uphold the hostelry of beauty and glamor, Morgäna is quiet, silenced envious young woman keeping to herself with a small abrasion. Leaving her oft with a void, empty sense. Haunting like a lost ghoul. She only speaks when being spoken to and often found wandering listless with an aloft squandering glimpse of inquiry and inquisitive nature. A spool of darkness defined in a reserved hardly reclusive essence of serene tranquility entangled in her deep plum-indigo strands. With her questions stirring left and right, her facade conjures an expression almost impossible to read, decorating in a blank, stoic apathetic expression.

Side Note :: Morgäna is afraid of anything with antlers.


A child born to a man and woman who were once rulers in a kingdom which had long perished into the soils below as their souls had been carried to the heavens and face their trials of acceptance beyond heavens gate, or perish into the burning flames of Hell. She was a child born the youngest girl, of eight proclaimed as the first generation in the Greenfire and Uciliece lineage, and the only child born with her muted plum follicles brushed with charcoal on her face and stockings. Genetic stripes poured in alabaster white started at her lower back and extended down her abnormally long tail, only meeting not even at the half way point of such a heavily mutated tail. She moved with endeavoring and traipsing steps in slow, saturated steps. Slithering through the canopy of leaves and gnarled, angular arms of branch and tree. The lyrical songs of bird and insect, serpent and beast fell upon deafened ears as she tuned them out one by one, lost and captured in her own thoughts. Listening to herself over and over again like a broken record.

It has been so long since my departure of my birth home. A war defiled the lands and my spars were unjust. I fought a man against my own as he had been the first to strike. The shrilling screams of my mothers voice still taunts me in her petty worries. Shoulder mangled and ribcage broken, am I taken from the battle by my tiger-knight companion without a name. A stranger man finds me mends my wounds against my words of digress. I thought it my time to depart from this world. This cold, cold world – frightened and startled by this man he'd fix the brokenness I carried at the time. Still a hole fills my chest, leaving my pack. They thought of me dead. My family and what was once considered friendship. They had given up on me, which in due time just showed my place was no where. A lost wandering soul, an ugly little duckling I had always considered myself to be.

Eventually I shared paths with the mad blind man afterwards on several occasion. After the rage of storms dwindled, was it not long before I was received a lantern, similar to the one carried by the mad blind man. I named it Envy, as it is a wonderful pyrite with a purple-blue wax stick on the inside with a burning white flame. I've come to understand that my own lantern has a precarious personality of its own. Not much since has happened, though I've began to feel a shift within my body, an unfathomable change which has forced ungodly searing pain I cannot further describe. My departure, however I prayed was left untraceable. As I am nothing more than a wandering shadow, never meant to be wanted and never meant to love.

Morgäna's Contact Details
Email: Send Morgäna an email.
Skype ID: Okie_001