Naught but Rot covers my flesh, for I am Morsay's chosen. Tell you, it's a boon I wish upon not many people.
Coran Ielan, known simply under his moniker Coran the dead by those in his province, is a man blessed with undeath, despite being alive still. Although Morsay is more than capable of creating undead from the legions of bones and souls in his realm, it is also the case that undead that are still technically alive possess more life-lust and power, making them more suitable candidates for championship. He appears to be around the 34 year old mark, though given his state of semi-undeath, that might be as good a guess as 200 years old. However, he is clearly human - or used to be, at any rate.
Rot and plague covers his body, but he doesn't seem to mind, even referring to it as a blessing at times. His bones shine through in his forearms and parts of his legs, displaying his sickening predisposition, and it is slightly lucky that he wears armor most of the time to shield those around him from his hideous visage. Never the less, the smell he produces is definitely not nice, and reminds those around him of death, plague, disease and illness.
This rot and plague that covers him is the sign of Morsay, and it marks him out as a blessed man of Morsay too, as there are few that have such a mark. Despite the illness that covers him it seems he has maintained his virility, never complaining about it, even though he does feel the pain of illness eating his body. That's about all it causes - pain - because it seems there are no lasting negative effects of the body beyond the pain.
This plague and illness that rots his body and eats him alive gives him boons unlike that of the other gods, namely a very high resistance to poison and disease, as it simply seems to be unable to take hold on his body and merely provides an uncomfortable ache, though nothing too serious. Furthermore he is extremely resilient to damage - it will take some serious damage to kill him, such as crushing him entirely or separating his head from his body. Due to this he also has a very large resistance to pain, honed both by his years of enduring the rot on his body, as well as the natural resistance he has from feeling little in his flesh, as it's already dead. Beyond that, his state of undeath will provide many people a large hindrance simply in terms of how he looks and smells.
If Morsay wills it so, he could in theory add additional souls to Coran's body, though he has never added souls of the deceased to semi-undead humans who still possess their human characteristics. It might be easier to simply procure a champion from the many legendary fighters in his domain.
For his armament, Coran is satisfied with merely a two handed sword that he rests casually on his shoulder. The thing is beaten and scratched and no self-respecting knight would even use the thing for practice, but Coran is no self-respecting knight and cares little for the state of his weapon. His armor is much the same way, downtrodden and appears to be breaking apart, though despite this it seems to be capable of withstanding and deflecting many blows all the same. Perhaps the work of Morsay.
Mortificiar Alghan
Coran Ielan was born as the son of a mercenary, though he knew his father not, and a whore, whom he knew closely until he left his village. His mother cared not for him, and used him merely as a tool to rake in extra money, sending her child to beg on the streets. Pity the men and women that gave him coin, or food, for he received none of it. His village was part of the following of Morsay, however, and Coran took deep interest in this, spending his time near the graveyard to watch the priests work on the graves, to prepare them for a swift journey to Morsay's realm.
The village's forests were filled with goblins and trolls but, for some reason, they never bothered the village - in fact, the goblins and trolls also listened to Morsay as far as their puny brains allowed them to understand the concept of godhood and death. The priests were seemingly in concordance with the goblins and trolls and allowed them to visit the village to sacrifice and pray to Morsay. This uneasy alliance was the only thing of note in the village, though it provided ample opportunity for trade.
When Coran became of age at 14 years old, he took his leave from the village on a pilgrimage to the far reaches of the province, where he found a man by the name of Alghan, a Mortificiar in service of the god of death and undeath himself. Mortificiar Alghan introduced himself to the boy, saying "it has been my goal to meet you, young Coran, for it is your duty to serve the master of death and undeath, and become his champion," and so he made a blessing sign with one hand, and placed his other hand on the head of the young boy, and so he was blessed by a Mortificiar, and soon the rot set in, spreading from his head down throughout his body.
The pain was immense at first, and he thought he was going to die, though the Mortificiar simply nodded at him and left him alone, in the wild. And for four days and four nights did Coran stay there, shivering in the cold, surviving on nothing but the sheer power of Morsay spreading through his body, and on the fifth day when he woke from his sweated feverish sleep, he felt invigorated and stood up and proclaimed "the power of Morsay is within me," and so he left and spread the word of Morsay.
He could feel Morsay's presence in his head, guiding him though never speaking to him beyond whispers and tongues. The whispers guided him towars a couple, a Mortificiar and a fellow marked of Morsay, a Mortam. The Mortificiar had fallen deadly ill, and the Mortam was giving him a peaceful death by caring for him, allowing him to pass to Morsay peacefully as it seemed Morsay had decided that the Mortificiar's time was up, and he was sent to join the god in his realm.
The Mortificiar and the Mortam
"Step closer child," the Mortificiar spoke unto Coran, and so Coran stepped closer. "I can feel the presence of Morsay within you, much like the Mortam here, though you are young still and must learn the ways." Coran merely nodded, watching the Mortificiar as his breaths became laboured and harsh. "Allow me to bless you and transfer the knowledge of the God of Death, before he takes me," and so it was done, and with the symbol of the fingers and the wave of a hand the knowledge was transferred and Coran was enlightened, though none the wiser.
He said his farewells to the pair and left again, continuing his pilgrimage, and the burns of his illness went oh so deep, though Coran did not complain because with the new knowledge he had learned he understood their meaning. His hardships were the hardships of the world and he alone could carry them.
He arrived finally atop a large mountain, where he did not find anyone - and so he sat and waited for instructions. For four more days and four more nights he sat before he heard the whispers in his head, and he communed with Morsay and Morsay spoke of things that no mortal could heard, no mortal should hear, and all the knowledge Coran had learned was nullified in light of the new knowledge that was transferred upon him.
Now understanding more clearly, he spent his life wandering and using his powers to aid people in their deaths, becoming a Mortam in service of Morsay, doing his bidding. He was human, and he could resist and deny if he wanted, but there was no way he could turn back and there was no way he could rightly deny the souls that were owed to Morsay.
Now, the Morsay has ordered him to meet the other marked ones, to do battle against the Forsaken God once more.
