Information Known to the Nation
Name: Robert MacDougall
Deeded: Song of the Pipes
Notable Traits: Fostern Ahroun of the Children of Gaia. Big ol' Scottish stereotype: big, loud, brawler type who loves a good drink and a good fight. Wears a kilt and bagpipes, which he plays as often as possible. Possesses his own [standard].
Pack: Alpha of Nothing Good Can Come of This, Member of the Guardian Pack
Sept: Sept of the Burning Heart
I was born on the 19th of August, 1986, near the ruins of Dunollie Castle in the wee Scottish town of Oban. Me father was John of Clan MacDougall and me mother Meryn of Clan Wallace. Though I was born to the great Highlands of Scotland, I was taken into the bosom of great Columbia before my seventh birthday, after me father fought honorably in the First Gulf War or, as some call it, Desert Storm. I was always a rough and ready boy: schoolyard tumbles were a near daily occurrence, and me blessed mother gave me hell for it each time. I couldnae help it; something in me bones just cried out to solve every dispute with me fists. Ach but enough o dat, you came here for the interesting stuff. I watched the Towers fall on that dreadful September day; I fought in the sands of Iraq. Twas there that I had what ye call the First Change. Was somethin terrible lemme tell ya; betrayed by one of those damned Iraqis, captured and tortured for information. They never broke me; instead, I broke them....I broke them into several bloody pieces. Well, as ye can imagine, I was never quite the same after that. Got a Section 8 (thats a medical discharge for ye who dinnae know) a year later....2006 that was. Somehow found my way to Macon, GA....this was back afore they had a Sept. Fell in with a wonderful woman who helped teach me who and what I am. Blessed if I cannae remember her name at the moment...ach but I do wander once more. My tale is nearly complete anyways. So, after Georgia, I heard tell of some kind of grand to-do up in New York State-round about the Siamese Ponds. This was back in 2014 it was. I was there when we faced down Metheezal and those two damned Spirals, Jacob Long Tooth and Selina Wyrm-Lover. Horrible affair. We was losing, and losing badly. I was but a Cliath at that point-no seasoned warrior I. I saw the onrushing horde of Spirals, teeth glinting and fur black as night. A howl floated on the wind-retreat we were told. Hold if you can, but our losses were too great this day. We must yield it said. Despair writ large on those around me, their long faces lighting the Rage that for so long boiled in my veins. I jumped to the front of our little group, me against 20 of the Wyrm. I didnae have time to think-I simply acted. I unslung me bag and began furiously pipin away. The stunned Spirals paused; for a moment all you could hear in our little glen was the song of me pipes as I taunted those damned bastards. And when the reverie broke, me and my little group did slay those 20 Spirals to the last of their cowardly lot. Twas a glorious sight, made even more so by the news we later received that the leaders were all dead. So it was that afterwards I was named Song of the Pipes, and made my way over to Mt. Morris and the Sept of the Burning Heart.
- "Today Mr. MacDougall joined the unhappy ranks of those who can't tell when someone's making fun of them. Hats in hand, everyone, for a moment of silence for our humor-deficient friend." - 'Spector
Name: Brett Dumain
MES #: US2016040068
Email: email me
ST: Vincent Alexander
ST Email: email Vin