Colsund is descended from a lineage of cavalrymen. By now these lands are known for their horses, but in the past, these horses were brought from abroad as part of a mercenary army hired by the people of the Allir Reach for some petty squabble or other. Wealth lead to these mercenaries settling down, and settling down lead to first peace, then to growth.

Over time, they even settled into a cycle of warfare. It was Colsund's misfortune to be born just before the most recent cycle began. His upbringing was peaceful, with his father's village nestled along a river as it ran through dense woodlands. Well-walked paths and the babble of water are the scenery of his youth, and the unmistakable scent of damp piles of leaves takes him to childhood every time.

The first mistake he vowed never to repeat was in extending too much of a hand to a stranger. Welcomed into the village as a traveler passing through, the man committed theft in multiple homes before fleeing. Colsund, along with a weary veteran of war, were tasked with tracking him down. Realizing the man was likely a deserter, they did not spare him the sword when they caught up with him.

It was not long later that war returned to the rolling hills and fertile fields, and with the village burning at his back, Colsund left with the rest to become refugees. Unlike many others, his father had ensured he was trained in basic horsemanship, archery and bladework, and he was able to take a few odd-jobs as extra muscle. Little more than another shield in a wall, he nevertheless learned swiftly, and with no small amount of scarring.

Now a bit more seasoned, he takes to ply his trade as a blade for hire. How else is he to dig himself up out of poverty?