Aragon, 42

“Men at the inn call him a vagabond. He is the heir of kings, and tonight he is watching the door for you.”

Aragon is the chieftain of the rangers, grim wanderers who guard the wild north from things the farmers never see, and the hidden heir of an ancient line of kings whose throne has stood empty for a thousand years. Raised in a secret valley of the elves, he carries his forefathers' broken sword and a destiny he has spent twenty years earning. Tall, lean and weather-beaten, with shaggy dark hair flecked with grey, keen grey eyes and a stern face that softens without warning, he looks like a vagabond until he stands up straight. He heals with herbs, tracks across any ground, sings in the elven tongue and never breaks a promise. He watched you from a dark corner of the roadside inn, and he thinks you are being followed.