The Morrígan

Battle-Crow. Phantom Queen. Bloodthirsty meddler. Harbinger of doom. The Tuatha have as many names for the Morrígan as she has curses for those who cross her. Three she is and three she’ll always be, but which three changes with the wind and the stars. She is Morrígu, the nightmare Goddess. She is Badb, the red-haired raven-hag in her chariot of war. She is Macha the mare-queen and Nemain the battle-frenzy. She is Anand the earth mother. She is the collective Morrígna, the sisters who together speak omens of death.

The Morrígan presides over the battlefield, stretching out her bloody talon to influence war’s tides. Her prophecies foretell dire outcomes, while her magic sows confusion and fear. She changes shape at a whim, taking the forms of beasts, crones, seductresses, and queens. She appears sometimes as dire fairy creatures, like the bean sídhe, to deliver her portents. Her favor is dangerous too, as she turns her machinations on her allies out of spite if they offend her.

Nevertheless, she was instrumental in winning Ireland from the Titans. She meddles on behalf of her own Scions and others when the mood strikes her, or when Fate suggests she ought. Soldiers and biker gangs dedicate their tanks, fighter jets, and motorcycles to her in honor of her traditional war chariot and the steeds that pull it. Her Scions manipulate vicious boardroom negotiations, egg on internet trolls only to cruelly rip them apart, and champion the freedom to express desires without shame.

The Morrígan’s children are unapologetic forces to be reckoned with. They straddle the line between acting in their own best interests and letting Fate guide their hands. They rarely make their true motives known until after the fact, and other Scions find it difficult to trust them, but the Morrígan counsels her chosen thus: Never begin a war, but always end one. Their tidings may be dark and cryptic, but their loyalties, once won, are unwavering — for good and for ill.