Role

Chapter 5

Born of a dark elf male and a human female prostitute from Udgaard. The dark elf
cared little of what happened to the human female after he had paid his dues and so
never knew of the hald breed created from his loins. His mother, after six years
of struggle and strive finally gave up and left the child in the sodden marshes
within the Weald, hoping for its death to a creature or crocodile, or disease, she
did not care. She returned to Galadon to continue her work with little remorse for
what she did.

Struggling at the age of a humanoid of middle adolesence, he found himself within
the horrible confines of a dark and dreary place. Instincts to survive took over
despite the fear the swamp created within him. And so sustained however he could
within the swamps, dealing with being almost constantly within water, leeches, disease,
and creatures of every kind. Somehow surviving and then, almost thriving, he grew up.

Out of the swamps came a half breed of disgusting nature. Long lost his original
birth given name, he instead adapted the name of what some called his home, or words
spat at him in anger. "Did you crawl out of a quagmire?" "Go back to whatever fen you
crawled out of!" "You smell like a morass, get away from me!".
So through the words of others he was named and defined. And through that developed
an almost unnatural hatred for the civilized, the well spoken, the elite of societies.
Is it vengeance, or just revenge, or misunderstanding? No, it is a seething, bubbling,
frothing, entanglement of hate and rage and jealousy and misunderstanding and revenge.
Its a feeling that civilized girls and boys get when they look out into the swamps and
darkness and feel dread of great proportion, but its source unknown. Its a horrible, slimy
film that clings like a caustic mist to everything that touches it. It is a
brutal hatred that cannot be pinned to any one reason, but its presence is unmistakeable,
and overpowering.

The mind of Morasfenmire is convoluted, mazelike, and confusing. Attempts to clarify anything
usually causes the conversation to continue to morass and become entangled in unknown words
and end in a state of unsolvable perplexity. His mind is a maze, his hatred folded, stretched,
and churned within that mazed like mind. He is dark, instinctual evil. He is what goes
bump in the night, and its best not to go and see what that bump was...