Her hair appears in a brilliant mix of ruby and rose red, a crown of flames, of roses set upon a pyre. Impossibly long, gentle, loose waves, falling well past her waist and down to the bend of her knees. Her hair is thick and luxurious, silken to the touch with not a hair out of place. Long bangs are swept with care above her striking gaze, curled ever so slightly to the left or right, pooling in the center, easily brushed away by loving hands.

Shadowed by her bangs, her startlingly sharp gaze follows any who dares look upon her. Carmine red blending into liquid gold, there is such an intensity to her gaze. The gaze of an apex predator staring down trembling prey. Her eyes are almond in shape, nearly catlike, lifted at the corners. Her pupils, appearing dark or strangely pale, are slitted, hinting at her divine origins. Long, thick dark lashes frame her eyes, hosting a faint auburn hue.

Youth still clings to her visage, not yet tired nor made weary by cruel fate and the burden of life. Her skin is a sun-kissed, sun-loved warm brown with red undertones. A beautiful bronze that glows from within. She is full-figured with a large bust and wide hips, her ribs curving inward, giving her waist an hourglass silhouette. Her proud shoulders are drawn back, spine straight. Her belly is taut with muscle, though not entirely defined. Her arms and legs are long and shapely, and her fingers and toes are slender and graceful. Her nails are healthy, clear with a gentle pink sheen from her nailbeds. She keeps her nails immaculate, well-manicured, perfection.

VOCALS ———— Smoky. Dark honey, smooth. Low and slow, with only the faintest hint of rasp. MorgEn's first language is Welsh, and so her voice carries some exaggeration, and is lyrical.

Like most fae-blooded, Morgen has a high affinity for magic and all things associated with it. She can rend water from the air, will fire into being. The elements react to her call. She is also an adept healer, though she has focused this aspect of her craft on keeping one mortal in particular alive. There are times, however, when she has gifted Arthur's knights potions and poultices to heal their wounds, and these potions are quoted as being able to heal all wounds, to stop death.

As is common amongst the fae, Morgen has the ability to transform herself at will. She can wear the guise of an animal, turn her arms to wings so she might take to the heavens. However, she is less prone to change herself to animal forms or mimicking others. The most she has done is taken on more youthful features, some mockery of her bygone days. Yet this is not something she does often, only doing so when absolutely necessary. She has, however, offered to change the shapes of Arthur's knights as need be.

Able to wield bow and arrow, or fight with sword and dagger. She is swift with a spear, comparable to those heroes of Scottish or Irish myth. If Morgen cannot use her magic in combat, she will make do with proper armaments.

As is to be expected, Morgen is considerably strong, able to lift up a sizable vehicle, person, animal, and so on. Her strength is well balanced with her speed. Quick on her feet, she is nimble and graceful, with an acrobatic proficiency. However, she is a little too nimble, a little too fast for most humans.

Another gift of her inhuman nature, Morgen is able to perceive objects at extreme distances, able to pick up on a range of sounds, though not always able to discern the source of each sound. Her senses are like those of an animal, and so cause her quite the headache.

Though Morgen will wave it off as simply having a fine intuition, it is no secret among her closest of kin, her closest companions, that she has been gifted foresight. Able to perceive the future all too clearly, she has used this gift to make sure that destined paths are always crossed, even if it shall bring her not but harm in the end. She has learned to control when she receives a vision, for the most part, allowing her to still be surprised by the passage of time.

Morgen is well-versed in using the stars as a means of divination, and for traveling over sea and land.

The true bane of Morgen's existence, she is an immortal being. She shall watch all she has come to love change with the passage of time, to die and be reborn, to be made and come undone. It has led her to withdraw even more from the world, closing off Avalon to all who seek it. However, this immortality does not mean she shall never die, for all fae can die, have died. It means that her lifespan is so incredibly long that she does not believe she shall ever witness her own end.

The gift of Traversal is one all fae have been granted. It is the ability to cross between the World of Man and the Otherworld through reflecting pools, water, shadow, the wood. This does mean that they open a temporary doorway, and unsuspecting mortals have often crossed over through these doorways.

There is no beginning to the tale of Morgen, the enchantress of Ynys Afallon, nor her eight sisters. They have always been, and always will be within Annwn. Though time, and the will of man, have taken their toll upon their shared history, scattering the sisters, and recasting their roles. Changing them into someone else, someone new, or erasing them altogether. Yet if asked, it would be revealed that it bothers them not, for they have always understood that their existence was mercurial. Let the world cast them in new light again and again if it so pleases them, for they are not the main characters of the sordid tale of young King Arthur and his knights.

It is a cold day in February when the veil is parted upon the shore of the Isle of Apples, and the sisters nine await their honored guests. The boat arrives upon the shore, and Morgen knows without a shadow of a doubt that her future is about to change drastically, for on this boat is a boy of some seven or so years, and he is destined to unite the Old and the New. And he will change the course of her life for many years to come.