Niall is a city giant, one accustomed to crouching and ducking and generally attempting to be as inconspicuous as possible; he listened to his father’s stories of sky that did not make one’s neck ache, and of roaring out into the wind loud enough to tumble cairns, but he has never been one to dream of past things. The moors, as far as he can tell, are wet, boring, and firmly out of mind. He adores Fallcrest, and his bar, the Eviscerate, that his father Dubhuir converted with his own hands, and where Niall, over the years, watched the ceiling come towards him. He has no knowledge of his family’s former glories, of the slaughters made in the Hidden Putsch, or where his grandfather and great-grandfather roamed; he can read, write, and tend a bar better than any of them. He is a more accomplished historian and bone-watcher than landlord, however, and the bar slumps further into poverty as his collection of Haze Era items grows large. Other business tempts him, also, when he has a mind to bolt his door and stride out into the city, stepping over the slums that jostle at the beach-line for space. In his youth he made many friends, and did much to earn glod to save, and tattoos line his forearms as testament to that rougher, formative time.

Though he loves her dearly, he is secretly proud of what his womannish wife Laura represents; a chance to blend in, to be silent for once, and to feel no eyes on him as he goes about his life.


Deep We Go DMRobS