[hider=The Dagger]
[centre][b]Name:[/b] 
Dagmar Rygh
[i]The Dagger[/i]

[b]Age:[/b] 
26 

[b]Gender:[/b] 
Male

[b]Race:[/b] 
Human

[b]Appearance:[/b] 
A thick, strong and dark leather armoured jacket sits comfortably on the wide shoulders of this man, beneath it hides a flak vest. The jackets high necked collar hugs his muscular neck close and teases the bottom of his pierced ears, rumpling and hanging slightly forward at his bearded chin. Said collar is, on occasion, pulled up to cover this mans mouth and nose completely.

This mans mouth is narrow and its lips dark, the white teeth behind them stand straight and to attention, just as his hair is – infinitely dark hairs atop his head in a short Mohawk. His thin nose slices through his masculine features in the centre of his face, small nostrils and slightly pointed tip, the only hint of fairness about him. Scars adorned his tanned skins, writhing from his crown, meandering around his Mohawk in thick streams to end at his forehead in sharp points.

If you were to free your attention from his ensnaring and piercing stare, ripping free from his pale blue eyes and furious eyebrows, you will see that the afore mentioned jacket has sleeves down to this mans hands, which take refugee in black fingerless gloves. The knuckles of the gloves exhibit sharp but short metal blades.

Looking past his upper body and its praiseworthy physique you will see that, like his jacket, his legs are covered in a strong and dark leather. Both knees are bolstered by an extra thick layered plate, at his ankle the trousers end, tied tightly and narrowed. This mans boots are black and the laces pulled back until his feet have no chance of escape, a metal plate stretches around the toes. 

On the outside of each athletic leg are two dagger sheaths, making four in total. In each a straight blade sits snugly, the handles a pale grey. Over this mans shoulder is a sword handle leading to a long sharp blade in a holster. With a slight curve at its central ridge and a sharp cross guard, the blade is impressive.

On his wide shoulders are two other slightly larger sheaths, these are curved completely as the blades inside are, medium sized blades with crimson pummels and interchangeable grips. 

Among all these blades a crossbow sits sideways on the back of his belt, three metal bolts strapped to its barrel, all of them with a distinct blade tip and trailing rope.

This man is sharp, this man is deadly, this man is Dagmar Rygh – The Dagger.

[b]Personality:[/b] 
Dagmar is not one that respects weakness, far from it in fact. He dislikes, or perhaps hates is the right word, anyone who brings harm to the innocent and undeserving - no more so than chaos. After the death and loss of all that he knows, Dagmar plays his past close to his chest, instead choosing to live his life as if it started on the Governors company above his home planet. With very little motivation other than to live to continue ripping evil from the universe, Dagmar tries to grow on himself in this way.

When interacting with others Dagmar listens silently and replies thoughtfully, saving the recipient from any lashing or impulsive reactions most feral worlders would give - sometimes he reads too deep into things.

[b]History:[/b] 
Dagmar was born on a feral world, where he grew up among the other male warriors, exposed to blood and grit, he could hunt by the age of  seven. As it was on his world, his parents died young to illness, he replaced his fathers position in the raiding party at age fourteen. When he came of age Dagmar tied with a female named Tulie, they had five children, four of which died before they could talk. 

The fifth was named Luj'ra after his father and was a strong young boy.

On the Day of the Dark, a solar eclipse, chaos' taint corrupted the warriors of the tribe and turned them on their own. Out hunting with the hunting elites on this exceptional Day of Dark, the small group returned to a horrific scene of death and fire. The warriors had slaughtered the tribe and their bodies decorated the floors and walls, a few still fought among each other, an indescribable evil surrounded them as they sparred in front of the flaming buildings. 

Charging enraged into battle with his hunter brothers, Dagmar sliced his way through two of the corrupted  to his hut, shifting through the embers and dying flames. Quickly he burst into the central room to find his son, blade in hand, stood over the cold body of his mother.

Slowly he approached the scene, and as he reached out to take the blade from the boy, he spun and struck out. Blocking blow after blow from his son, tears ebbed at his eyes and his hands ached at every parry. After what seemed like hours of this torture, having to look into his murderous sons eyes, one parry sent the small blade flying away.

Quickly he grabbed his son, bear hugging him close telling to calm himself, but the boy broke free and grabbed at a splintered wooden beam. Scarping the tip along his fathers scalp, Dagmar's blood mixed with his tears as he struggled with his son, falling down he held him above him, his arms flailing to strike his face.

Unknown to him, one of his hunting party had walked in on this situation, and not knowing who fought with his leader, stabbed out with his spear. Dagmar held his son above him as he had when he was an infant, their blood stained his shirt, and he watched as the life dripped forth from the wound.

Walking with Luj'ra in his arms, Dagmars feet dragged out into the village centre as a small shuttle burst through the clouds. The imperial soldiers watched on as he buried his son in the dirt, they burnt everything that they could and broke with they couldn't. Only he and a few others had survived, the gaurds demanded they be interrogated and tested for any lingering chaos.

After interrogation the planetary governor took a liking to Dagmar and empathised to his story, hiring him as a middle man for negotiations between him and the world below, and later as a  personal body guard. After 5 loyal years protecting Mathias from those who would see him dead, one particular woman came closer than all the others. What Dagmar had thought to be a veteran hand help, was infarct the incredibly long and intricate camouflage of an assassin.

Dagmar had his suspicion when she derailed a celebratory meal for her own menu of food, when she returned to the kitchen after setting out the first course, Dagmar took a mouthful before Mathias did. At first the taste was pleasant and of sweet berries, he savoured it momentarily with pleasure. Very suddenly it burnt and singed and before he knew it the insides of his mouth were on fire.

Spitting the contents out, his teeth were all but corroded and his tongue and gums ripped and raw, moaning in pain he chased the would be killer into the storage room where he found them readying a side arm, he subdued her and brought her to Mathias.

Having saved his life, Mathias gave Dagmar his freedom and wealth as well as surgery to fix his mouth and his scars upon his head. Dagmar accepted the repairing of his mouth but chose to keep his scars as a reminder of his past. Dagmar refused much of the privileges, he would rather it was spent on those below him, those that knew of the loss he had been stricken with.

Dagmar sought to rid his soul of this overwhelming rage and sorrow, and so found comfort in mercenary work. His latest contract was successful and he now rests at Outpost 57, inspecting him spoils.

[b]Skills:[/b] 
Dagmar is a master with a blade, throwing, stabbing or slashing – you name it. A side from that he is above average at acrobatics, very athletic and lean as well as a proficient tracker. All of these skills he acquired while on his home world, hunting, fighting and running. 

Skills learnt while off planet include spot assisting, rogue-like activity such as spying and sneaking and a proficiency with poisons.

Poison proficiency: Basic and some alternative ingredients are used to make poisons, delayed poisons and narcotics.

[b]Equipment:[/b] 
Auspex/Scanner (left eye adjustable)
3 satchels of assorted concoction and poison (2 vials each pouch, metal containers non-labelled)
Micro-bead communications system
Distortion Field – Grants a crude invisibility at long ranges and a confusing mirage up close


[b]Miscellaneous:[/b]  
Do not touch Dagmar's blades without his permission, he dislikes this profusely.
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