Adatahl awkwardly held the eyepiece of the binoculars over one of his massive eyes, squinting to get a good look through the aperture at the distant structure, illuminated by the eerie light of the surrounding ley lines. The narrow vision panned over the facility, getting a good look at the patrols perched on high gantries, and the landing pads surrounding the facility. Something in the air was tense, and it wasn't just the crackle of magic from the upcoming celestial alignment. He know the Coalition had scientists tracking these things, and perhaps they suspected it too.
He turned the binoculars with one of his upper arms, seeing if perhaps the other lens would offer a better view. It did not.
Turning, he slid back down the slope behind the ridge to where they had encamped, and set the binocs back on the tarp where the communal tools for keeping a lookout had been arrayed. He grunted as he disentangled himself from the tangle of netting they'd assembled for him, a rough ghille suit that would keep his shimmering golden scales from calling him out as a target for miles. Unarmed, armored only in a silvery cuirass, and having all the covert skills of a sixteenth-century cavalryman, he'd carefully followed the instructions and example of his more cautious cohorts, keeping himself under the canopy to conceal himself from air patrols, and keeping him on passive lookout. He understood the necessity - the facility there had enough firepower and personnel to contain a major breach, much less a small patrol like theirs - but it had taken his normal tranquility and added a small twist of sour impatience. He didn't dare put a wish that something would happen out into the world, but...
He stretched out wide, wings flaring out for a moment from his upper arms as he worked out the cramps.
"Still no movement... Who's next?"[ +- ] Description
Adatahl is a huge creature, topping seven-and-a-half feet. Sheathed in golden scales, with a face and talons like a bird of prey, he is an alternately terrifying or awesome sight, depending on which side of his ire one might be. Four powerful arms spring from muscular shoulders, two of them trailed by membranous wings. He wears a silvered cuirass with an asymmetrical geometric design engraved into it, he professes is a unique identifier among Sky Knights, similar to heraldry. Though he carries no arms and wears light armor, he protects himself with magical conjurations pulled from the air and formed from what he calls "cloud-stuff."
He carries himself with confidence, but seems to consciously pull back when he veers into swagger. Though not exactly soft-spoken, he is deliberate with his words, trying to rein in a reflexive overconfidence.
