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The less said of Reynir's past perhaps the better. To the best of his knowledge his father was a miner, or at least that was the story his mother always told when she would pull out the small bits of precious stones and metals to show him as a kid. She taught him how to smelt ores, how to cut and polish gemstones from what otherwise might have looked like a simple rock. They weren't excessively well off but the local Lord seemed to like his mother's work, and Reynir's own when he started apprenticing. Reynir didn't mean to set the guy's table on fire, it was an accident - he had tripped over his own feet trying to bow and present the piece as the guy had instructed. He just accidentally caught one of the banners, and a brazier, and the Lord's best hunting dog in the process. And so Reynir was banished from his small little home in the mountains, his mother instructing him to seek out his father's relatives in Arx. So that's what Reynir plans to do. Make a name for himself and maybe one day see his mother again. You know, little things.

Bright blue eyes, and pale skin dusted with freckles and occasionally soot stand out starkly against this young man's bright auburn hair. He's tall and thin, all wiry muscle and sharp angles, save his face which manages to maintain a boyish quality, possibly because he seems unable to even grow peach fuzz. His clothes are well mended, but still show signs of the wear and tear no matter how many times mended.

Sometimes good things happen to bad people, and sometimes bad things happen to good people. You can't change your luck, but you can change what you do with it. It's a motto that has pretty much defined Reynir Ulbran's life. At times painfully naive, and usually rather sweet and cheerful he does his best not to let his circumstances get him down. As long as he can create, and get his hands on the materials to create he's happy. Mostly - just don't mess up his work.