Morgan Kiehl
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Morgan Kiehl

Vagabond Monk



My optimism wears heavy boots and is loud

Appearance

Blue hair, hazel eyes, 5'0"
Soft blue hair that is often pulled into two braids that fall to just chest level, with two black horns flecked with orange jutting out of her temples. She has very sharp and severe features, but she is almost with a large fanged smile. Her skin is very pale, and shines in the light with a soft blue iridescence that comes from clusters of scales that litter her body. She is often in very simple robes that are unflattering to her body type, very little skin actually shows from the neck down. Attached to her belt is often several bags that seem to jingle dully, unlike the sound of coins. Despite her sweet smile she is never without a harsh looking red Oni mask that seems to be placed for easy movement to cover her face.

Personality

Morgan is a sweet woman who shys away from conflict and has a fondness for old keys.
Morgan is a gentle and very sweet woman who genuinely believes there is some good in everyone, and that everyone does what they do out of necessity, even when that thing may usually be seen as 'evil' or 'bad'. She is very reluctant towards violence and relies heavily on her 'magical' oni mask to give her the courage to step up and harm other living creatures. She cries easily.

She has a habit of picking up old keys, and the occasional religious trinket from different religious beliefs, the older and less relevant the better.

The Woman with The Keys

There's a woman who travels the roads with enough keys to open a castle. No one's ever counted them. Most give up after twenty. She keeps them on chains, on rings, around her neck, hanging from her ears. Every one different. Every one important. At least, that's what she says. Nobody's entirely certain what she's looking for. She claims she's on pilgrimage. Though I've seen pilgrims before. Most seem to know where they're going. Morgan Kiehl doesn't. She just keeps walking. The odd thing is, she never seems bothered by it. Not until you ask. Ask her where she's headed and she'll smile. Ask her what she's looking for, and she'll pause. Ask her if she's found it yet, and she'll get very quiet.

She's a strange sort of traveler. Doesn't chase treasure. Doesn't care much for glory. I've seen her hand over coin she couldn't spare and then spend the next week living on trail rations. Never complained once. Though she did cry over a dead rabbit she found by the roadside. 

People remember different things about her. Some remember the keys. Some remember the scales. Some remember the way she cries at almost anything. Most remember the way she listens. As though what you're saying is the most important thing in the world. As though she's trying to carry a piece of it for you. 

A friend of mine traveled with her for a time. Said she was the worst liar he'd ever met. Said she was afraid of dolls. Said she'd forgive just about anybody. Then he got real quiet. Took a drink. 

And said:

 "The funny thing about Morgan is that she thinks she's looking for something. But I reckon she's the one everybody else ends up finding."

June 8th, 2026