[center][h1][b]| [color=skyblue]M O R D R E D[/color] |[/b][/h1][sub][b][i]"Whatever else I am, I am your son - your most wretched son. If you do not hate me, try to love me a little, Mother; it is lonely never to have been loved, only devoured."[/i][/b][/sub][/center]
[hider][center][img]http://baku-panda.org/images/UOU_Mordred_medieval.png[/img][/center][/hider]
[b]| [color=skyblue]Character You're Applying For[/color] |[/b]
[indent]Mordred Pendragon[/indent]
[b]| [color=skyblue]Powers And Abilities[/color] |[/b]
[indent]Mordred is a [i]homo magi[/i], having an innate talent for accessing and manipulating the mystical energies which pass through the multiverse. These energies can be formed into spells through the application of will, or focus. More powerful magics may inhabit objects or words, but in both cases those merely serve as foci to off-set the physical toll on the body caused by channeling the mystica arcana. Mordred is both the wielder and the victim of magic, being under a spell cast by Morgan le Fey which grants him both eternal youth and eternal life.[/indent]
[b]| [color=skyblue]Origin And Backstory[/color] |[/b]
[indent]Mordred is the illegitimate son of King Arthur Pendragon, conceived by means of a liaison with his half-sister, Morgaine. Like Arthur, himself, Mordred's conception was the product of both magic and deception, as Morgaine wielded Merlin's own tricks against him in escalating political schemes aimed at ousting the magician from Camelot. Merlin saw the coming of a bastard born on May Day and convinced Arthur to put to death all infants who were born at that time. Morgaine knew that this royal command would seed division among the Knights of the Round Table, but safeguarded Mordred by entrusting him to Sir Brian of Kent, the Silent Knight. As he grew into a boy, Mordred served as page to Sir Brian and, for a brief period of time, Camelot was everything that people today believe it to have been.

Then it all went wrong. Horribly, horribly wrong. Lancelot's betrayal of Arthur's trust shattered the unity of the Knights of the Round Table. The knights turned on one another, as Lancelot fled the kingdom and Arthur's rage set forth in a warpath that promised no peace for so long as either Lancelot or Arthur yet lived. It was at Camlann that all was revealed. Sir Brian's betrayal of his king's command. Mordred's true parentage. Morgaine's role in the fall of Camelot and Merlin's massacre of Sir Jason's family. Arthur moved to kill the bastard, but Sir Brian intervened. In the subsequent fight between them, Arthur slew the Silent Knight  - the only father that Mordred had ever known - in front of the young squire's eyes. Taking up his knight's arming sword, Mordred dealt Arthur a mortal wound before being slain by the dying Arthur. Mordred died at the hands of his father, his body lying beside the Silent Knight, the man that he had loved as his dad. 

But Mordred's story didn't end there. Instead, it had only begun. Morgaine made a deal with Morpheus, the primordial "Elder God" of the Dreaming, which enabled Mordred's spirit to retake corporeal form as his story was told and re-told. As part of Morgaine's plan, with each re-telling, the story changed with subtle nuance that shifted the roles of the people involved. Morgaine's duplicity was obfuscated as her character became confused, even divided into separate roles -- Morgause and Morgan -- while blame for Arthur's dead cast Mordred as the penultimate villain. Compared to Mordred, the villain who never was, Arthur became the magnanimous man, the once and future king. From Geoffrey of Monmouth to Cretien de Troyes to Thomas Mallory and E.B. White, the story of Sir Mordred became the story of Mordred the Evil, and Morgaine's role that of no more than a minor witch.

A thousand years later, a book is stolen from out of the House of Mystery. The [i]Libellus Sanguinis[/i], a tome of forbidden knowledge said to have been authored by Mary, Queen of Blood. As people start to go missing across Europe, it becomes clear that the Cult of the Blood Red Moon may be rising once more. The quest to recover it brings Mordred back to a reality that has forsaken him for the memory of a great king who never was.[/indent]
[b]| [color=skyblue]What Makes This Character 'Ultimate'?[/color] |[/b]
[indent]This version combines aspects of both the DCAU Mordred and Marvel Comics' Mordred, leveraging the varied storytelling of the Arthurian Legend to return to the heroic Sir Mordred of the earliest known accounts. This version of Mordred also combines magical elements of both Marvel's "Masters of the Mystical Arts" and DC's "Justice League Dark" in order to arrive at a narrative that combines aspects of both to create a story of British superheroes both old and new.[/indent]
[b]| [color=skyblue]SUPPORTING CAST[/color] |[/b]
[indent][b]Nina Skorzeny[/b] (Scream Queen)
A young Romanian girl kidnapped and turned into a vampire by the Tenth Circle.[/indent]
[indent][b]Squire[/b] (Cyril Sheldrake)
A boy whose father was killed by Springheeled Jack. The Black Knight's squire.[/indent]
[indent][b]Dane Whitman[/b] (Black Knight)
A descendant of Arthur Pendragon and the current champion of the Lady of the Lake. Wields the Sword of Light and the Shield of Night.[/indent]
[indent][b]Jericho Drumm[/b] (Brother Voodoo)
A member of the Masters of the Mystical Arts, the protector of the London Sanctum.[/indent]
[b]| [color=skyblue]ROGUE’S GALLERY[/color] |[/b]
[indent][b]Lord Crucifer[/b]
A powerful and ancient vampire, Crucifer leads the sect of the vampire nation that has come to be known as the Tenth Circle.[/indent]
[indent][b]Xarus[/b]
One of Vlad Dracul's children and Crucifer's lieutenant.[/indent]
[indent][b]Springheeled Jack[/b]
A lesser demon from Limbo who has plagued London since at least 1837.[/indent]
[indent][b]Klarion[/b] the Witch-Boy
A resident of Limbo Town.[/indent]
[indent][b]Morgan le Fey[/b]
A mother's work is never done.[/indent]
[indent][b]Thomas Cassidy[/b] (Black Tom)
A modern Irish highwayman, currently working with Morgan le Fey.[/indent]
[b]| [color=skyblue]Locations[/color] |[/b]
[indent][b]Jordan Tower[/b] (The London Sanctum)
Built upon the ruins of an ancient keep dating back to Roman London, the Jordan Tower lies at the intersection of ley lines crossing the Earth. Home to Brother Voodoo.[/indent]
[indent][b]Limbo Town[/b]
A city on the edge of forever, founded by witches from Roanoke, and gateway to Limbo. Located underneath the city of New York.[/indent]
[indent][b]The House of Mystery[/b]
A convergence where the physical realm and the Dreaming cross over.[/indent]
[b]| [color=skyblue]Sample Post[/color] |[/b]
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[color=skyblue][b]C A M E L O T[/b][/color]
[color=skyblue]The Kingdom of the Britons | [i]The Year of Our Lord[/i] 536[/color]

The banners were streaming from atop the parapets.

The sounds of minstrels and the singing of bards punctuated the celebrations on this, the Feast of Stephen. The courtyards and markets brought alive by the tourney that had sprung up around the castle walls to celebrate the hallowed festival of the martyred saint.

The sound of dense wood smacking against wood beat the rhythm of the war drums of child's play. A small gathering of knights and squires surrounding where a pair of boy's sparred in the round. Of the audience, they were [b]the legends[/b]. Gods of war in this era and every era since. Sir Galahad, the Knight of the Grail. Jason of Normandy, the Knight of the Blood. Sir Gawain, the Maiden's Knight, greatest of the Knights of the Round Table.

The larger of the boys was Anduin, squire to Sir Jason. A true Briton, of Roman ancestry. His tunic was overlaid in a short coat that was a field embroidered with the likeness of a gold lion - the colors of his knight.

His opponent was a bastard of the Gaels. His Welsh heritage bespoken of by the fair hair and blue eyes that cast a likeness to the king himself. His tunic shifted about his body, cinched at the waist by a double-wrapped Celtic belt. His feet pressing into the moist earth, clad in a pair of caligae that - like his tunic - were largely unchanged from the days when Roman soldiers had marched upon Hadrian's Wall. A time which, for them, was but a few decades earlier. His tabard was two-toned, sewed together of equal parts of white and red. 

The colors of the Silent Knight.

Anduin started forward. His size making him like a Goliath moving upon David and fueling an overhead swing that threatened to overpower the smaller page. But the Welsh bastard was fleet-footed, his movements like that of a dancer as he stepped off t the side. His wooden sword angled back as he brought it up in a watershed block that pushed Anduin's blunted blade aside. 

It created an opening, into which he neatly stepped through. His wooden sword brought around and then forward, an overhead strike as he pressed the advantage. The attack drove the larger boy back, his desperate leap robbing him of balance as he careened into the audience behind him, stumbling and falling arse-over-backwards. The sight of which sparked the men to laughter. 

Still clutching at his wooden sword, the Welsh page had watched the scene transpire with a kind of detachment. His throat warm as he sucked in breath, felt his heart racing inside his chest. 

A hand reached out, grabbing his wrist and pulling his sword arm up into the air. As the boy's gaze turned upward, he saw his knight smiling over him as the man raised the boy's arm in a triumph that signaled the end of the match. There was a small smattering of applause, while a others helped Anduin back to his feet.

For his part, the Welsh page was confused. This was his first time taking part in a tourney such as this. Or even seeing such a thing as the Feast of Stephen on the lawn of Camelot. 

The confused only deepened as he felt himself seized and lifted up, then spun around. Tankards of mead were raised, as the knights began belting aloud a song of Caedmon. Hugging onto his knight, the page saw the world turn. A merry go round of revelry and good cheer. The minstrel's ballad inciting people to dance.

Shifted around, he found himself feeling somewhat weightless as he went upward. He settled a moment later on the shoulders of the Silent Knight. A man who stood there, wordlessly, as he expressed his gratitude in a language without words for a tankard of mead. 

Stood there.

The two of them.

In the shadow of Camelot. From atop the man's shoulder's, the boy looked up and saw the Kent banner flying beside all of the banners. Not least of all the standard of Pendragon.

His mother told him that he would be a king.

To be honest, there was nothing more he wanted so much as to exist in moments like this one. Sir Galahad speaking to Sir Jason. Sir Gawain regaling the maidens fair with stories that were both adventurous and bold. And the Silent Knight, a voiceful member of the company even without uttering a single word. 

Maybe he should [i]want[/i] to be a king. But to be a knight... to be a knight of the round table... that seemed a far more magnificent thing to him.


[color=skyblue][b]LONDON[/b][/color]
[color=skyblue][i]Present Day[/i][/color]

He woke with a start.

Part of him still dreaming, he reached out. Reaching, as though expecting the Silent Knight to be there. Part of him, the part not yet awake, wondering why he wasn't.

And then he remembered. 

And wished very much that he didn't. 

Dreams. Vile, wicked things. Like honey-lipped demons with butterfly wings, they pulled from memory the sweetest moments... only to pull them away again with the waking. The realization that yesterday was no more, and today was not what it was supposed to be. The promise of so many tomorrows. So many lies. 

This a new day surely would birth still more.
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