There she stood, among her clansmen and clanswomen, upon the glades of their home in the midst of battle. She stands out from the others by the proud way she held herself, reminding one of a queen, queen of the battle taking place. Her bronze skin is the first that draws one's attention, for her clothing does little to hide all the muscles and skin. All sorts of scars, knicks and scrathes marres her skin. The worse of all the scars is the one on her back side, running from her left shoulder blade down in a jagged line to the small of her back. A faint one appears on her forehead, but the only way this one is seen if one is brave enough to approach her and look directly at her face. Eyes a cool, cunning grey with little speckles of navy blue along the irise, they stare out at the enemy calculating, narrowing on their foolish advances. Two small braides dance on either side of her face, the one on the right has a foxtail woven in with her tresses dye a bright crimson red while the left braid was dyed a dark hunter green. Those braids in truth are longer than her actual hair itself, for this woman keeps the back only to her shoulderblade, cutt jaggedly from use of a dagger. Her appearal is one to make it easier to move without being hindered by cloth. Tanned doeskin skirt tied to her shapely hips fall to midthigh, with a bucksin bodice designed to show off the many scars she had earned in the battlefield. Her boots remind one of the Native American moccasssins for easy running and comfortablity. Clunched in her right hand is a crude sword, testing to the many battles that this one had seen, knicks and scratches lines it's blade. One the left leg, a blade is strapped with rawhide. On one bronzed shoulder sat a raven, glaring with it's beady eyes at the intended victim advancing on his mistress. She truly did look the part of a Celtic Goddess of war

S c á t h a c h

Scáthach was born in the heat of battle to a war-like mother named Nehhain. Nehhain lived up to her name sake for Nehhain means 'venomous", "frenzy", she was also an Irish war goddess who hovered over battlefield's inspiring battle madness in the warriors fighting. She was fierce and cold in her fighting, no one was spared in her mind. The only men Nehhain would allow to her blankets would be those who could defeat her in a fight, no one else was worth her time. Only a few was capable of doing so, many say the reason was that the god of war and batlle lusted after her, taking the giese of one of her clanmen's fighter. He was the only one truly that could defeat such a woman as she, thus placing his seed deep within her. Nehhain never allowed her delicate condition to hinder her, she mastered the way of fighting even while pregnant.       Earning more awe and respect in the eyes of her clan. Scáthach had the will even then within her mother's womb to live and survive. During the heat of battle was when Nahhain went into labor for her daughter, the pains of labor fueled her on to a feverish pitch, slashing and hacking away at the enemies surrounding her. The warrioress kept the pain will hidden, little did enemy or allies know she was birthing her child. Once the battle waned, all enemies slained and taken care of did Nehhain allow her child to finally be born. The girl child was baptized in the blood of her enemies. Dubbing her daughter to a well known warrioress, the girl babe earned the name Scáthach. Scáthach as like her mother lived up to her name sake, learning to fight at a tender age, watching her mother and those around her practise.      Before she turned ten, Scáthach was already weilding a sword much to her mother Nehhain's pride. Nehhain use to cut Scáthach's ash blonde hair with a jagged dagger, the cuttting of hair was not neat, but she neglected to cut two locks of hair keeping it longer than the rest. When Scáthach came of age to finally follow her mother into the battle field, the girl only fourteen at the time proved to be her mother's daughter all the way through. More and more did enemy and clansmen alike accuse Scáthach to be the daughter of the war god, she proved to be quite skilled as he as with her mother Nahhain. The teenage Scáthach was suberb in the heat of battle so intense how she faught, she lived for the battle taking as many lives as her crude sword would take, never stopping till the last of their enemy fled from fear of her. She had earned her womanhood and rite in her clan, Scáthach then dyed her one left braid a crimson red, the sign for blood then weaving a fox's tail between those ashe blond locks. The other one was dyed green symboling the mother earth. This day Nahhain was proud.      Once the warrioress reached the age of seventeen, she was equal to her warrior mother, a shock really to Nahhain. Still Nahhain was as fierce as she was before her daughter, for Nahhain never allowed herself any more children for the war god as her clansmen exclaimed she had already birthed a god in their eyes. Scáthach earned even another thing from the gods that awed her people, she had a pet Raven named Cathubodua, raven of the battlefield. She took the raven in the battlefield with her, which turned out to scare more of their enemies for the Raven was the War Goddess Morrigan's symbol. Here this girl had one, so they assume the goddess was with her. Scáthach has one thing, like her mother Nahhain, she will not allow just any men to join her in her blanket. A man had to earn his way there, so the only way to get a sample of her one has to defeat her in the midst of battle, she proudly waves that right towards the victor IF they are interested.       ((First of all, I have not picked out a font for her, it's in the works so please be patient. I have the right to ignore those who wish to fight her for no reason, well If I think it's a good reason or if I plain just don't want to fight. All the names I used here came from this link The Celt's Page I want to place thanks right now to the owner of this page. This woman is special to me more than the rest for I do not know why, she seems to be the fighter part of my tortured soul, The one who breaks through to fight the pains of everyday life for me. To you I may seemed demented, but to me it makes sense. Just to point out, I have a theme song for her, it's a fitting on for someone of her class. If you have heard of a song called Boadicea by Enya. For those of you who have her CD's probably know it, for those who don't I wish you did)) Mortal Index