[center][h3][color=ed1c24][b]Ferdiad of the Horned Skin

Penthouse, Foreign District, 10:05 PM[/b][/color][/h3][/center]

What had this girl been thinking using a cursed thorn as a relic to a summoning? The chant called to him from the Throne of heroes. Yet he did not answer the call at first. Not as the heroic spirit of challenge and honor. There was something wicked about the location of his summoning. As if it was tainted by another that made his very existence mad. And that thorn did not help it. So he heeded the call, but it was likely not what she expected.

The circle exploded with magical energy that took form. Furniture was thrown about from the crackling energy as the man materialized into the human world 'again'. What she saw was likely not what she had originally expected. Did she want a Lancer with hair of blue? Or perhaps the teacher from her Underworldly castle? Instead the blonde haired brute stepped forward from the wreckage of his summoning. A barbed spear tight in his grip and a broad blade going horizontally across his back. It was possible beneath the half slung tunic that the man had some level of pale flesh. But that was impossible to tell at the moment as thorns coated his chest and arms. Thick growing vines with gnarled, jagged, pointed edges. Much akin to the very thorn she had used to summon him. 

[center][color=ed1c24][b]"O, gilla. You the one who summoned me?" [/b][/color][/center]
In that single moment his eyes darted over towards young girl who looked like she was more dressed up for a night on the town than a war. Was she following in his Queen's mind set? Wait. Why did his thoughts go to Medb in that moment? It was hard to focus on any one thought. All he knew is that deep down he wanted to fight. So badly did the desire build in his soul to crush an opponent. His hands though moved to the vines that formed over his horned skin and took hold. He ripped away and brushed off the foliage with relative ease. Letting it drop to the ground and wither away the second it was no longer connected to his body. Revealing the Irishman's black tattoos that went down across his face and lead right to that bright smile. 

[center][b][color=ed1c24]"I am Ferdiad. Son of Dáire and son of red faced Damán. Chosen champion of Connacht. Who are we going to fight first, Gilla?"[/color][/b][/center]


[@Astarte]