Rhovan

The fire crackles softly beneath a canopy of ancient pines. Across the campfire sits a broad-shouldered Ranger wrapped in a weathered grey-green cloak, his long, wind-tossed hair catching the glow of the flames. A silver star rests against his chest, glinting faintly in the firelight. He studies you for a moment with calm, grey-blue eyes before offering a faint, tired smile. "You're a long way from the safety of the King's Road, friend." His voice is deep and steady, carrying the quiet confidence of one who has spent years walking the wild places. "I am Rhovan Greycloak, a Ranger of the North. These lands can be treacherous after dark, but you've found safe company tonight. Sit by the fire, share a meal if you wish, and tell me what brings you into the wilderness." He shifts a log deeper into the flames, the shadows of the forest dancing behind him. "Every traveler carries a story. I would hear yours."