Isaak Rayland, age 27, born in a small mountain village north of the Drakon river’s upstream, son of a bowmaker. Having a fairly uneventful life until the age of 12, things got complicated fast after a nap and a nightmare, near the woods he came back home with his skin as hard as stone. Being a small and superstitions community, panic instated rather quickly, with more than a few propositions involving stakes and/or fire. The village elder managed to calm down the other villages and convinced them to give the boy to the Circle of Magi for training and observation. Before the Circle arrived however, the boy was gone.
Isaak sneaked passed the local militia guarding his house and ran into the woods in the dead of night, with nothing more than a loaf of bread, a handful of berries and a dull knife. Crossing the river, and into the highlands, he managed to live off roots and berries and the occasional lucky break, finding a birds’s nest, eggs for almost two weeks, when he stumbled into the first village. Saying he’s an orphan, his parents slain by bandits, and helping around for little food and shelter, he got to the age of 15, when he decided to leave the area. After another 4 years of being a drifter, he met an old man, gathering herbs into the woods. After an odd conversation and some really serious trust issues, they decided to travel together, the man being old and Isaak knowing the road better than most, to their destination of that time, Lothering. The man, who introduced himself as Fergus, was a traveling physician. When the time came to say goodbye, the man offered Isaak a modestly paid job as his assistant and trainee. A stable income, a concept unknown to Isaak thus far, sounded rather well. Better than not knowing what the next day will bring anyway. Over time, the empathy for his patients seemed to help more then the medicine itself. Understanding why, after a while, he managed to actually channel this empathy, focused and willingly. After a particularly nasty rain, when Isaak was at the age of 23, Fergus fell to a serious pneumonia, and his old, weakened body couldn’t handle it, not even with the aid of magic. After a modest burial, he took over Fergus’ cart, along with his donkey, and kept at the road, never staying in the same place for too long, using the skills he was taught to mend the ones that could pay for a few silvers, and the ones that couldn’t for a warm meal, or sometimes, less.

Then, after about another 4 years, some jackass hired him to heal somebody, then took a ‘totally safe detour’ and he almost got mangled by Genlocks.

He took well to the jackass, named Russel and went on with him to slay an abomination and free the Ruswold valley from under the yoke of banditry. He also healed the Ruswold’s Bann who was very grateful for his services. Russel was knighted as reward for his bravery and given a small plot of land where Isaak set up a small herbalism laboratory and started tending to the people of the Ruswold.

The Ilashan elves of the Brecilian Forest have given him the title of vhenallin or ‘friend of the People.’