<b>Name:</b> Morpheus Oneiros<br>
<b>Home/Location:</b> Sigil, The City of Doors'''<br>
<b>Birthplace:</b> Unknown, even to himself<br>
<b>Age:</b> 147 years<br>
<b>Race:</b> Elf (planar denizen)<br>
<b>Gender:</b> Male<br>
<b>Deity:</b> Shaundakul<br>
<b>Alignment:</b> CN<br>
<b>Summary:</b><br>
Morpheus is a traveler of planes, and resides usually in Sigil in a very nice one-bedroom apartment overlooking the city. He spends his time busking around the city and narrowly avoiding numerous thieves, pickpockets, and other beings that he had rather not talk about. Sometimes, when the heat in the city ("and not the temperature" he says with a wink) becomes too much, he decides to take a vacation to numerous other planar realms. He carries a greatsword, which is an odd choice for a bard, but he handles it deftly and with great agility. He promised himself he would never come to the Prime Material Plane, mainly because the food was bad and the people were…well…Primes.
<blockquote>
Unfortunately for him, as he was sitting in a tavern one day in Sigil( which is famed for being the only city in the multiverse that any opening could randomly be a portal to another plane), he tipped too far back in his chair after seeing a rather large and mean looking white rabbit pass by his table and fell into a barrel. This aforementioned barrel also happened at that exact moment, to be a portal to the Prime Material Plane. With a thud and the splash of his ale all over him, he looked around his new surroundings: Sundren. What bloody bad luck.
</blockquote>
<b>Faction(s):</b>
<ul>
<li> Doomguard</li>
</ul>
<b>Significant Relationships:</b>
<ul>
<li> His lute. He loves his lute. </li>
<b>Miscellaneous Information:</b></ul>
<ul>
<li> Hates halfling muggers.</li>
<li> Loves a good sea shanty</li>
<li>Is annoyed by people who take themselves too seriously, because it's all going to go to end anyway.</li>
<li> Has an annoying habit of calling people by a bird's name.</li>
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