Name: Vran of Kernow
Aliases: Ryalvran, Bran Morgan.
Current Alias: Brandon Winter
Age: Unsure … ? Spent too much time in the faery realm and time moves differently there.
Apparent Age: 30
Date of Birth: ? There's a stone that marks his “death”. Go ask an archeologist.
Place of Birth: Cornwall
Occupation: Professional gambler, finder of the lost
Human: 5’10, black hair, grey eyes, average build, slightly pointed ears, a small beard.
Fae: Between 6’ and 6’2, either black hair and totally black eyes or silver feathers and grey eyes, slender build, dressed in black with black feathers, or silver robes.
Raven: A large black raven.
He wears silver ear-rings, a silver torc at his throat, and a silver brooch that fastens his cloak, decorated with a Celtic knot-work design of three ravens. Sometimes the brooch appears as a shield, and its pin as a sword.
Race: Raven of Morrigan
Position: A Consort of Morrigan, Battle Herald of the armies of the Dark
He is gifted with certain talents from Morrigan. Each one takes them form of a raven spirit.
Fate: he can know the exact time and circumstances of an individual's death.
Fury: he can lay curses upon humans and most types of creature.
Frenzy: he can send those around him into a battle frenzy, gifting them with great strength and power, but lacking in self-control.
Far sight: He has an incredible depth and breadth of vision, which even includes some level of immediate prescience. This makes him able to spot carnage or impending carnage from miles away, and take advantage of it.
As a Raven of Morrigan he can transform into a raven, and knows the speech of ravens and crows. He feeds on the souls of the dead.
Perceptive, patient, civil, bloodthirsty.
Unfamiliar with the modern world, easily falls to vice, terrible sense of humour, a sense of fair play.
Is bound by the right of equal returns (fair dealing with mortals and fae)
Is deeply distracted by patterns to the point of incapacity – particularly Celtic knotwork
The law of Naming is binding to him
Needs to feed on the souls of the dead to maintain his powers and glamour
And of course that thing about iron and all that jazz...
As a fae, Ryalvran has a contrary nature, the morality of which is obscure to humans. Despite his very nature lending him a macabre obsession with battle and death, Ryalvran can be an easy-going type. He likes a drink and a fight, to stand on high hills and feel the wind in his hair. He is never quick to take exception to anything, and is always the first with a laugh and a jibe. If he offends people by his attitude, he has no trouble apologising, though it be with a grin. Beneath this exterior lies a highly perceptive mind that is fast to take stock of situations and people, and to catch the undercurrents of people's relationships. Ryalvran will wait before he moves, as the carrion birds await the end of the battle before feasting. He took from his father a sense of fairness, and of looking after one's own. From the faery court he learned the ways of civility, leaving the aggression more to others, as he presided over it rather than taking part in it, still with the relish of battle's thrills. Unlike some of his kind, he never found any particular entertainment in causing suffering, and despite his morbid nature could hardly be called sadistic; he is part of nature's darker side, the Winter, the night, the inevitable death that comes to all, but is still bound by nature's laws and customs.
Vran is a fae, and a consort to the fae queen Morrigan. He was raised as a human, and lived a human life, during which he dedicated himself to the Battle Goddess. He lived in Cornwall, as a celt, and his “father” was a tribal chieftan. Vran died while trying to take back his father’s lands from invaders. He had known he would die young and in battle, because the Morrigan had told him so. Two years previously, the young warrior had been bashed about the head with a Saxon mace and while in the nowhere world between life and death had been blessed by a vision of the Goddess he served. The goddess Morrigan came to Ryalvran and told him, “You will die young, you have been chosen to fall in battle.” As a raven she spoke to him, but as a woman she consoled him. After his spirit was in some manner soothed, she spoke thus, “In return for your death, you will be gifted with the sight of the raven, and the raven's speech will be yours to know. Before you die, Ryalvran, send me many gifts of death, so when yours comes, it will be in greater glory.”
His “death” of course, was merely the release of his changeling state and his first glimpse into his heritage as a Fae. In Morrigan's court in the Land of the Young, he was a lover and a trophy for her, even someone to lead the frenzy for her in battle against Fomorians or other enemies.
Since returning to the mortal world, he has found it somewhat difficult to adjust. The modern era with all its metal boxes does not please him at all. However, he finds himself drawn to the lure of the “sparkly thing” and has found himself just a little addicted to the thrill of gambling...