"Nathair-Sgiathach Marcach", Nathair s'arrêta, "de la côte nord." Il regarda l'homme dans l'armure avec la mule fidèle et fut un peu repris par l'enquête soudaine de son nom. Puis il regarda l'Épée dans les yeux et cria : « Je m'entraînerai près des portes bientôt si je suis de nouveau nécessaire. » Nathair se retourna ensuite et se dirigea vers la cuisine pour un repas rapide.
Au lieu de retourner à travers l'armurerie, Nathair a fait un court détour pour passer par la porte d'entrée dans l'espoir de voir Daz quelque part. Elle n'a jamais été à un endroit pendant trop longtemps. C'est au moins comme ça qu'il a semblé pour lui et cela a rendu difficile de garder la trace d'elle. Nathair a regardé autour d'elle en espérant voir Daz quelque part à proximité et là elle parlait à Avanir près du dôme. Il a commencé à se diriger par là.
C'est à ce moment-là que l'horrible cri a sonné du dôme. Nathair s'arrêta cet instant et s'arrêta vers le dôme. Il n'avait pas entendu un tel cri depuis cet hiver. Il s'est emparé de sa vitesse et s'est dirigé vers le dôme. "Les dragons ne font pas ce bruit souvent. Quand ils le font, ils sont..." Nathair repoussa la pensée.
"...pour ne pas être puni." Nathair a entendu Daz finir sa sentece quand il est arrivé. "Wha-...", il a coupé court quand ses yeux tournés vers la vue dans le dôme. Il a vu deux dragons et Sigil. Ses yeux se tournèrent vers la souffrance, faible et privé d'être qui luttait dans les chaînes de célélyrium. Le visage de Nathair est devenu sombre et son pouls a commencé à augmenter légèrement. Ce n'était pas la façon de traiter un dragon pour lui. Quand il a vu Sigil dessiner son fouet et commencer à soumettre le nouveau dragon, il a serré son poing si fort qu'il a commencé à devenir blanc. Il n'était pas dans la Guilde depuis longtemps et c'était la première fois qu'il avait quelque chose comme ça.
"Daz", Nathair a gardé ses yeux à la vue à Dome, "Allons-y. Nous avons des choses à faire."
Name: Nathair-Sgiathach "Nath or Nathair" Marcach
Age: 24
Gender: male
Rank: Rider
Equipment: Weapons - Two karambit-knives and kampilan | Other - First aid kit with bandages, ointments and herbs that provide and adrenaline rush or makes one temporarily numb to pain; Tool pouch
Appearance: Nathair is about 5 feet and 7 inches tall. His a bit over 180 pound body is fit and toned but not overly muscular. His skin has tanned slightly during his time in the South but it is still obvious that he comes from further North. He moves around lightly with extraordinary balance.
Most of the time Nathair wears somewhat loose dark colored clothes to make moving light and easy. His long sleeved shirt has a well sitting hood he uses sometimes. Strapped around his forearms he has protective leather bracelets. His pants he has tucked into his light high neck leather boots that he has also strapped.
As his battle gear Nathair uses a hardened leather vest with cauldrons that has some strategically placed in-sowed steel plates. Around his waist he has a leather belt with a first aid kit and his tool pouch. Behind his back, attached to his belt his has a horizontally placed sheath with his kampilan. Strapped on his thighs he has to karambits.
Personality: In his core Nathair is an open, welcoming, positive person who wants to do what is right. For a long time though, he has been rather gloomy - pretty much ever since he left from home. He is a kind of a dare devil and values nothing more than a real friend and a brother in arms. He does not get angry often, but when he does he usually just is silent and walks away to be alone for a moment. In action he is accurate and determined. He keeps pushing forward to victory. He does not give up and this regard it can be hard for him to see when it is good to let go.
Short Biography: Nathair comes from the North coast of Ambrosis. There he had been a dragon rider and a protector of a village he was born in most of his life. He had a special relationship with his dragon at the time. He flew without chains and they were like brothers. Their unity and cooperation was unparalleled in the region.
On a winter night about a year ago the village was raided by pirates. Nathair was down with fever and not really in the condition to fight but he flew anyway. When the Sun rose in the horizon the pirates were gone, Nathair had fallen from the sky and his dragon, his friend and brother, had been killed. Nathair could not stay in the village. Once he had recovered, he had packed his bag and left. He kept walking South, away from the Northern coast, away from the loss.
Mount: Dazenth the Cleaver
Other: Theme