|Hair Color||Dark Gold|
|Authored By / Featured In|
A tall man with a broad jaw and somewhat more narrow chin. His eyes are a dark, ocean blue that are often half lidded or inquisitive of all around him. His hair has been cut somewhat short to make himself look more like a 'gentleman' and a well kept beard and mustache come together on a rugged face. His body is fit, but not enough that any might expect him to be a true warrior of any caliber, though large hands are callused with years of hard and dedicated work.
Rangvald is a quiet man, as he always has been. His mind calculates every little detail, often to a painful and annoying degree for some around him. That said, he is not devoid of emotion, and follows his heart as much as he speaks from it, seldom coming to tell lies unless it's for one's protection. He can often be found chewing on the nail of his thumb, deep in thought as he innovates the next step of nonexistent plans.
Raised by a strong Jastvotn warrior, Rangvald was a disappointment for a fair amount of his childhood. He didn't have the physique of those around him, or the close ties to their shamanistic traditions. Instead, he invested in his mind, and the kind of things one could do with it by adapting what others brought forward, a cocky boy who liked to poke holes in the ideas of those who knew better than him. As he got older though, these ideas manifested in new ways. He, like anyone, was taught to hunt for the furs and meat that kept his tribe going, but often couldn't be bothered to dirty his hands with blood, resulting in an early reputation as a coward. Instead, Rangvald would place traps before his bait, often ones as simple as a pitfall beneath hanging berries, where he could return later to poke his prey with something pointy and save the effort of chasing it.
The introduction of outside peoples seemed to turn gears in the young man, seeing their fine metals, or even the simplicity of their cart construction. Fascinated with the methods of the civilized people, Rangvald took it on himself to try his best to learn to read and write so he could learn their ways, earning redemption from just adapting their way of treating hides to ensure they would stand the tests of time, or the use of an object they called a 'plow' to help grow crops when game wasn't as easy to find.
Being one of the few to have not only a working, but solidified knowledge of how the economy of using coins works, he is sent to Arx with the name of Clearlake like some before him to help manage the importing and exporting of supplies to their distant home.