[b]Name[/b]: Riagán ó Flannagáin (Press the Alt Gr key in the bottom left of your keyboard and press a vowel to get á, é, í, ó, or ú)

[b]Age[/b]: 24

[b]Appearance[/b]: Riagán is tall, at about 6 foot 2 inches. You can clearly see that he comes from Ireland, with pale skin, that easily burns. For this reason, he can almost always be seen wearing a long sleeved shirt, and long trousers, whatever the weather. Riagán has above average muscle from having to do manual labour, but not too much, due to the lack of nutrition. As any true Irishman, he has ginger hair, which he keeps at a medium length, in order to keep heatstroke at bay.

[b]Companions[/b]: Mathúin ó Flannagáin, Riagán's younger brother, 17 years old. Mathúin is about 5 foot 11, and like Riagán, has pale skin and ginger hair. He also has to wear covering clothes, but they are slightly too large for him.

[b]Belongings[/b]: Enough food for a couple of days for two people
A hip flask of Irish whiskey
A pouch made of the hides of various animals, filled with some flesh, also from various animals
A box of matches
A lighter, which is around three quarters filled with fluid.
A knife, with blood stains

[b]Background[/b]: Riagán was born in what was the Republic of Ireland, and learnt Irish as his first language whilst growing up. Through various vagabonds coming through his village, he managed to learn English to a half decent level. When he was 7, his brother Mathúin was born.

Riagán and Mathúin had quite a peaceful existence until they were 15 and 7, respectively, when a band of raiders came into their village, and slaughtered everyone except for them. Riagán hid Mathúin in their house, and Riagán stood watch. He saw as they cut, shot, and kicked people. Riagán felt no emotion, if anything, he found it interesting on how the people of his village squirmed about as they died. He then saw the raiders cut them up, and take the spoils of their victory with them, one or two of them taking a bite. When they had gone, Riagán went outside, and bent down near a morsel of flesh. He picked it up, and put it in his mouth, and, strangely, found it slightly tasty. He picked up a satchel of flesh that he had seen a raider drop, and went back to Mathúin in their house.

After a couple of days on their own in their village, Riagán decided that he would take him and his brother away from the village. They spent a year walking west across Ireland, only speaking Irish, not taking the time to teach English to Mathúin, translating whenever speaking in English was required. Mathúin, did, however, pick up a word or two of English here and there, and could hold a conversation for a couple of minutes, with the help of Riagán. After a year in Ireland, they made it to the Atlantic Ocean, and after two and a half months, and with the help of 15 other Irish people, had made it all the way to Nova Scotia, where they lived for a few years, still not having Mathúin learn English, as they limited contact with the outside world. Riagán, however did still have a taste for human flesh, sometimes hunting people down to eat, but would never let Mathúin near it.

After a while, they decided to go away from Nova Scotia, and set off for Norfolk, Virginia. They have nearly made it.