|“||The goal of life has always been to experience it, not to make it to the finish line. Morbidia knew that. And I hate to say this, but you could learn from her on that count.||”|
–Redclad Aren, on Morbidia's philosophy
Created by QueenArasene
|Occupation||Lady Mother of House Aren
Morbidia Bevelda Aren (34 Pentember, Year 1993, Fourth Age – 5 Moevyng, Year 7, Sixth Age) was a powerful osteomancer of Aren origin who served as the family's Grand Master for several months during the early sixth age. During the second Aren Civil War, she spearheaded the faction nicknamed The Rat. After resigning from her position as Grandmaster, she served as the Aren Family's Lady Mother until the time of her death.
Morbidia Bevelda Aren was born on a dark and silent night sometime around the year 1988 of the fourth age, during the reign of Grandmaster Robert Aren. She was not considered a particularly remarkable child, yet given the appropriate care and affection that another addition to a comparatively stable House Aren should be awarded. Her first years were comfortable, and she quickly learned to wield the silver spoon that the squalor of the House could provide. It was an innocent time, a time where she could be a child and think nothing of the world or politics. As is always the case with such things, however, the time of her innocent childhood was soon to come to an end, and the harsh realities that had molded and provided the prosperity of her earliest years came crashing down on her in the form of new opportunities- and responsibilities.
Even as the fourth age turned and became the fifth, the Aren family relentlessly trained all of its young members that showed signs of proficiency in the magical arts. Morbidia, clearly an underdog in terms of strength magically, went from teacher to teacher, frequently taking a beating for her insufficient progress. It was a harsh time, but in retrospect- a long time later-, Morbidia acknowledged that these physical repercussions eventually motivated her to make the best of her ability and develop finer skills, making up for her lacking power. Her first, primary school of magic was actually air magic- not uncommon for a time when runes were sparse and the rediscovery of rune essence only just had begun to accelerate the growth of human kingdoms.
However, as the runes did become more freely available and Morbidia aged, wider fields of magic opened up for study, and the young witch was- although reluctantly- accepted as a student of the Galethornian magics. Here, she meticulously dug herself through the study of carnalmancy, graduating with a passable mark. Her skill with magic had improved, but her power- and this her tutors, as well as she herself could tell- was nearing its peak. Nevertheless, she forged onward and took the first few steps into the world of osteomancy, which swiftly became what she was notorious for. Even though attaining a passing grade in carnalmancy had taken her the better part of three years, Morbidia breezed through her exams concerning bone magic barely six months after being introduced to the craft- with all her marks being exemplary, and her skill still accelerating. Cerebral and spectral magic were almost thrown to the wayside, but Morbidia- in her young adultdood- was required quietly but insistently to take up study of these crafts as well, if only to keep her in balance with herself and the family's wishes.
Not all about Morbidia's adulthood is known. We do know she finished her study and learning of Galethornian magic- less perfect in some areas than her teachers may have liked, but skilled enough to know her limits and perform a plethora of feats that ordinary mages, much less people, would never find themselves capable of doing.
However, with her earned knowledge, and now thoroughly acknowledged place in the House, Morbidia finally found herself in a place where she could demand a freedom she had not felt since the days of her early childhood, and subsequently she made off with a decently sized rune package to make her own fortune- or at least live the life of a wanderer- in the world outside the Aren Institutions. It is presumed that these years are the ones that the Boneyard's construction began. In fact, the Boneyard's construction was considered a great success by Morbidia, who had met a mildly adventurous carpenter on her journies and took him back home- or rather, took him back to where she wanted to go, and built a home together with him in the distant reaches of Arandar.
The first iteration of the boneyard was, truth to be told, cozy. It was the residence of young, happily married people with few worries in the world, and it stayed that place for years and years- even after Morbidia had their child, a happy baby boy who grew up a sheltered child. Very sheltered, considering the people he saw until such time as he turned twenty-seven were his parents. Despite her slightly off-putting name and occasionally rather harsh personality, Morbidia had taken a slice of happiness for herself and was, by all accounts, living it out to the fullest. When her son became too insufferable from being cooped up in their home, she allowed him to leave and sent him, with all the best intentions, back to her family with good wishes, a letter of reccommendation and the hopes that he would become a good man in the fullness of time.
Of course, such was not to be. Thentar Aren, the poor soul, found himself thrown ungraciously into the arms of one ruling Ignitus Aren, on the home stretch to madness in his search for immortality. He barely survived his education before the next part of the family's squabbling turned into a short, but violent war and his life was snuffed out as unceremoniously as it had begun. All he left was a lingering, painful memory and a bitter taste in Morbidia's mouth, and a pregnant beau whose name and appearance was lost to time. Morbidia, unaware, lived out the life of her husband in quiet harmony. He, a quiet man and not the greatest philosopher, took little affront at the way his wife brought in the occasional bone to brighten up the garden, even though over the years the garden did turn out to become more bone than plants, and the surroundings began avoiding their comfortable house.
The forgotten years
Nothing lasts forever, though painful moments may seem to. Times of happiness, on the other hand, usually seem to fly past like water rushing off a cliff. Similarly, Morbidia's life of contentment with her husband eventually passed and she was left old, alone, and ever so slightly bitter. Eighty years of her life had passed, and then she had to bury the man she'd cherished quietly and fondly for fifty of them with her own hands in the back of their shared garden. Morbidia was at a loss; she did not know where to turn or what to do. What could she do, what would she do? The homely tasks were all to easy, and certainly required no time at all to complete. If she wanted, she could even neglect them, or let the ambient magic that had seeped into the house slowly clear them up by itself. No, with nothing left to do Morbidia threw herself into first despair, and then an old passion with the entirety of her being. This was, to be entirely honest, the true birth of the Boneyard as we know it today. As Morbidia's search and knowledge grew, so did the variety and percentage of bones around her house, except for- and this she was always careful with- a small piece of the back of her garden, where a bush of holly was left to grow, carefully tended. It was the only piece of green left in the surroundings, and was never graced by the visit of another living plant again.
Morbidia, on the other hand- after some wobbling, as could be expected- flourished. Slowly at first, as she had to venture out of her home again, but then ever faster as her boldness increased and she traveled ever farther away from her home, always in the search of new additions to her catalogue of bones. All sorts of creatures died under her meticulous hands: birds, predators, prey- even the smallest insects were not safe, long as they possessed anything that could be called a skeleton.
She reached, after significant forethought and many deliberations, out to her house of birth again- quietly, avoiding and deflecting undue attention, and gained the friendship of a likeminded wizard under their protection who was especially interested in the arts of carnalmanacy. Together, they made an expert hunting team, although there was the occasional tension between them. Morbidia knew there was a volatile darkness in the deepest depths of her new friend's mind, and kept a wary eye on him whenever she had grounds to worry, and oftentimes when she did not either. It was during her partnership with him that she first called ravens to her, to serve as extra eyes as her own were beginning to wane.
Two morbid years passed. The two left a bloody trail across the continent, which could be followed if you were attentive enough- but you would have had to be looking very closely indeed, since they never left ample evidence. Only now Morbidia could sense the darkness in her friend swelling- he grew unbalanced and demanded ever greater and greater kills in their hunts. Morbidia restrained him as best she could, but she feared the confrontation: uncertain of her conviction if it came to a battle between them. Similar thoughts, however, must have plagued her fellow wizards and thus she woke, one night, to the insistent tapping of her ravens, telling her in stark, brutal mentions that her friend was gone.
It had to be done; Morbidia left the camp without hesitation and followed the trail her friend had left- or rather, the most likely route, which was straight toward the closest hamlet. And truly, there was an uproar going on there. She had slept too long. The villagers had noticed nothing at first, with the flesh mage creeping through their houses and eviscerating three families without as much as a mouse squeaking, until a dog began to bark at him and was swiftly silenced. That was something that drew attention, and when Morbidia arrived with springing steps, she could see a gruesome engagement in full swing, with brave men trying to fight off the beast her friend had become with long pikes. Of course, their attempts were futile.
So Morbidia did what she had to do- she drew the attention of the beast and made herself guilty of multiple manslaughters: villagers who couldn't get out of the way in time and were caught dumbly gazing at the raging battle.
Dawn came, and midday almost went until the battle ended, with Morbidia barely victorious. She was hobbled, her eyesight gone, and used (to the faint cheering, but mostly eadly silence) a slightly shaking hand to draw her former friend's spine from his body, and fashion it into a cane. Quietly, she found the leaders of the village and told them, in a voice like the grave, to burn the body- no, the monstrosity- that had attacked their village. The villagers, near petrified with fear, dared not disobey and so it was that a large bonfire consumed everything she and her erstwhile friend had touched in the little hamlet.
Morbidia, battered and bruised, retreated to her boneyard and was lost to the world.
The following accounts have all been roleplayed out ingame. However, they may be biased.
The cry of undeath tore her from her studies. It was loud, overbearing and brutal, tearing through the natural order like a knife through flesh, and it called to her. She could feel the blood singing in her veins as the ripples of whatever event passed by her, carrying farther outward into the wide reaches of the world. Morbidia looked at herself and saw an old crone, lost and forgotten by the world. Sure, she had outlived most anyone she'd ever known, but what had the long life brough her thus far? Little, far too little. Face setting in a determined expression, she snatched her stick- the motion long practised and snappy- and made her way to the source of the call. The far northern reaches.
It was an iceberg. Chill wind tore through her robes here, but a true witch could not feel cold and Morbidia was nothing if not one of their numbers. She hobbled, in her typical fashion, forward to the tip of the iceberg where one figure was radiating undeath. Others joined her; some new, some old, none truly worthy. Morbidia expressed her disapproval quietly, all the way up to the peak of the iceberg, where she was confronted by Demyx Aren himself, in the undead flesh. Immediately, she descended to heckle his methods and reasoning, calling out his promise of revenge over the Calderon as petty personal rivalry.
The Skirmish in Seer's Village
Battle for Aspecta
Reign as Grandmaster
AppearanceThough Morbidia was considered an average woman in her youth- not beautiful, but not ugly either. Long years of living made their mark on her, as did various battles and diseases. In her later years, she upheld a look of ironed black and sported steely grey hair with a similarly steely demeanor. Her eyes remained sharp despite her advanced age and her posture is noted to have been ramrod straight, but pliable.
Morbidia's face was gaunt, like much of her body, and could be considered almost skeletal in the right light. Unfortunate comparisons to a skeleton upon which skin and muscle were added as an afterthought have been made, though these were made quietly and outside of earshot. The skin on her face was well worn and sported a multitude of lines which suggested that, had her face been less gaunt, she might have had friendly wrinkles. Morbidia's most striking facial feature remained her bright emerald Aren eyes, which were known to glow mildly whenever Morbidia undertook any magical activity.
Her mouth was thin and her lips pale; her nose slightly crooked in the telltale way of having been broken, but set well. Morbidia's hair was a stark iron grey, with remaining strands of black shining through occasionally. It was kept carefully groomed and loosely pinned.
Morbidia was 5'5" tall, with a stick-like figure generously wrapped in black robes. By the end of her life, she was repeatedly remarked to appear tired and slightly brittle and her skin was unusually pale. Through most of her last years, she was constantly accompanied by a walking stick made from smooth bone which she frequently leaned on for support.
Morbidia's fingers and hands were notably well kept and very clean, despite her reputation for being a grave digger and necromancer- occupations that frequently sully the hands of their perpetrators. She usually wore dark or dully colored robes, favoring dark greens, black and grays in her color choice.
Morbidia was not known for widely accessorizing, relying on a sensible standard outfit to remain easily recognizable. Her officially most treasured accessory was the bone walking stick, with her dragonstone Council Ring generally considered a close second. She wore an extremely worn thin golden wedding ring on her left ring finger. Aside from this, she was known to carry a weathered leather-bound journal with her.
Skills and Abilities
Morbidia was considered one of, if not the best osteomancers of her lifetime by the time of her death. Her ability to manipulate bones at will was near unparalleled and demonstrated most strikingly through her lifelong creation of the Boneyard. With her use of osteomancy, she was a seasoned offensive as well as defensive fighter. Able to use seemingly any bone shard within a wide radius as a focus point, she was able to strike from unexpected angles and a significant worry to opponents with bones exposed.
It is noted that her raw ability was strong, but limited and her fighting style relying on misdirection, technique and speed as a result. Morbidia repeatedly demonstrated her ability to withstand or deflect attacks from more powerful mages without spending great effort. She was also an accomplished verbal fencer, favoring goading opponents over exchanging magical blows. On the battlefield, she was considered a reasonable strategist with a special eye for cover and high ground.
Lastly, Morbidia was an accomplished necromancer and death mage, able to survive in almost any environment and capable of summoning body doubles of herself seemingly at will.
Morbidia was a trained and practiced housewife, both magically and without the aid of supernatural means. During her tenure as Lady Mother, she considered it a special treat to cook for the family's children herself. Through teaching the children, she also demonstrated in-depth knowledge of tending a garden and displayed a particular liking to the harvesting of crops.
She was considered, by virtue of her magical studies, an accomplished wet nurse and doctor, well capable of curing most physical injuries. Her experience with illnesses and poisoning were, however, generally lackluster. In addition, Morbidia had a lucky hand when it comes to embroidery.
Morbidia was said to be a clever individual with honest and only rarely homicidal moments. She took great pride in her family name and school of magic, famously growing significantly vexed if her practice of osteomancy was confused with the art of necromancy. Most of the time, Morbidia was considered a calculating person, preferring to sit back and talk instead of diving head-first into combat. Despite this, she is known to have been heavily decisive and rather stubborn, willing to go to great lengths to achieve her goal once she had decided on it.
Morbidia was a great believer in control and planning, showing visible hesitation and dislike toward situations she did not believe she could remain in control through. Throughout her last years of life, she showed the possibility and importance of overcoming not only one, but both of her curses with willpower, restraint and mediation.
From her father, Morbidia was cursed with violence. Through long years of intimate self-control and spiritualism, she softened it mildly, but the intensity of the curse remained. It was one of the reasons why she did not believe in violent means to solve problems, as she knew she was liable to run amok and cause wanton destruction once she fully ran out of patience.
Furthermore, and to her great chagrin, Morbidia was cursed with weakness. Aren women are generally accepted as potentially more powerful than their male counterparts, and Morbidia strongly believed she could have been among the strongest mages in her time if not for the curse holding her back.
- Morbidia's Ravens were called Hugin, Munin, Yalthar, Caecilius, Balthazar, Rapps and Martin.
- Morbidia possessed a relic called a life weave, a hanging curtain that contains intricate information about the long years of her life. It is assumed that this artifact followed her to the grave.
|Living Members||Aerisop Aren, Beatrice Aren, Celestine Aren, Chris Aren, Edrich Aren, Elena Strider-Aren, Elyspis Aren, Envy Aren, Evelyn Aren, Freyl Aren, Galethorn Aren, Karightus Aren, Laura Aren, Lilith Aren, Maija Aren, Marie Aren, Redclad Aren, Sedna Aren, Seline Aren, Tesla Aren, Trentus Aren, Vulcan Ignitius Aren, Vynriette Aren|
|Blooded Members||Renthgar The Mighty Flower Wizard, Syer Rzzar, Violante Green|
|Deceased Members||Althea Sicarius, Annabelle Aren, Aranea Aren, Aranitus Aren, Aralyn Aren, Faust Aren, Felix Aren, Leila Aren, Morbidia Aren, Thorvald|
|Other Content||The Aren Arcane Institute, The Duskfort Notes, Aren-Ryder Feud, Aren Civil War, The Hunger: Assault on Ardougne|