The tale of Palanonnen the Solitary is cloudy and vague, for few know of his existence. Fewer still have heard it themselves, and none repeat what stories he has to tell. This much is true: None walk with him; and rare are the times when the ranger is seen accompanying any save himself. Even among his folk the woodsman is considered a loner, almost an outcast among them, for at times he will appear wild and unkempt after days unnumbered in the wilderness. Few wish to speak with him, and the few who would mince words are usually met with a cold gaze that could freeze the hottest of fires. He is a man of few words, by all accounts.

     Still, there are bits of information, if one would care to piece them together. All who know of him know he has spent the vast majority of his life in the woods, and few match his skills as an outdoorsman. Of his lineage Palanonnen does not speak, and when pressed he is apt to grow silent for days, even weeks upon end.

Description
     A rugged, wayworn traveller stands before you, his tall frame supporting a finely cut and muscled body. He is unkempt in appearance, to understate the fact, raven hair haphazardly shorn at the shoulders, his face marked by lines of care, and in dire need of a good shave. Keen, sea-grey eyes twinkle brightly beneath dark brows, and skin that was once fair has been tanned from countless days spent beneath the sun.

     His clothing is no better than that of a beggar who makes his home upon the roads and biways. A brown tunic fits over a soiled undershirt, and brown breeches complete the ensemble of earthenware. Immense black boots fit neatly upon his feet. Covering all is a thick grey cloak. A longsword rests in a scabbard at his side.