Rise of the Runelords
Human Male Ranger
Aran is a handsome young man with green eyes, jet black hair, hawkish features and a charmingly crooked smile. Personable yet somber at times, brash and tactless in speech. Brutally loyal to friends to a fault.
“Hes a Drunk drifter who should be kicked out of sandpoint!” – Titus Scarnetti
“Aran?, hes a fine gentleman with many admirable talents wink” – Lucia Scarnetti
“One of the best trackers I know, damn good lad to boot” – Larz Rovanky
“A mad drunk! Laughs Haughtily great addition to any bar brawl!” -Tsadok
“He pays his tab honestly enough just wish he would break less furniture while hes here” – Ameiko Kaijitsu
“Has a hatred for goblins that im envious of, great hunter and a good addition to any party” – Shalelu Andosana
Aran’s beginnings are known to most folks in Sandpoint , His parents were the foremost archaeologists in the region. Aran’s childhood was full of fun, excitement and wonder, constantly brought on digs with his parents (as they refused to have someone else raise their child). Unfortunately the peaceful times were not to last as his childhood was ripped from his hands by the gruesome death of his parents by goblin hands. Goblins captured his family while a midst uncovering a new ancient Varasian ruin, though Aran’s father and the other few hands they had put up a good fight against the goblins thought they were eventually overcame due to sheer numbers. though some of the workers were killed the rest were bound and taken alive back to a goblin encampment, only to be bled out and quartered to become part of a grotesque goblin stew. Aran watch as his friends( some of which he called family) were torn apart and eaten, when the time came for his parents he had no tears left to shed, Aran was forced to watch as his parents were killed and dismembered. there were three left in the cage with him though before others could shield his small frame from being seen now he felt vulnerable and alone. As luck would have it a roaming guard patrol happened upon the encampment and laid waste to the goblins. , a broken shell of a boy was returned to the people of Sandpoint. Upon return having no family to take him in he was brought to the next town gathering to see who would adopt him. “No one?” the mayor repeated whispers of “cursed” and “broken” could be heard throughout the crowd, after many a silent minute one man walked forward and said he would take the boy this man was a hermit by the name of Allanon not much was known about him but the reluctance for any within the walls of the city to take the boy forced the mayor to give custody of the boy over to the hermit.
Allanon was a druid who lived in a small shack in the tickwood he was a man of few needs and therefore had little to offer Aran in matters of comfort. The man told Aran that he would teach him the lay of the land and how to make an honest trade for himself. Allanon taught Aran how to survive on nothing and how to track and make your presence known to no one if he so choose. the rest of his early adulthood was full of learning practical martial exercises and skills as well as learning to respect the land and his place in it and “weed out” as Allanon so often put those who didnt belong. Aran and Allanon made a decent living selling hides and excess meats to Sandpoint in return for services or goods Allanon didnt see a means for gold when decent folk could trade easily enough for what they needed. Aran made friends and often spent many a night drinking with the locals who had once thrown him out he is well liked among the community and hated by some of the higher rungs of society for his lack of tact( or occasional romp with a nobles wife or daughter).
Allanon upon seeing the boy to adulthood left Aran all his material possesions said his goodbyes and left to go become “one with the wild” though heartbroken that his one friend and father figure was leaving him, he was old enough to understand the “old coot” and gave him a fond hug and wished him all the best.
Aran heads back to Sandpoint to partake in the festivities of the swallowtail festival maybe bed a nobleman’s wife for the fun of it and drink to his hearts content.