Roscoe is visibly transformed from what he previously looked like. He now looks much less like an elf and much more like a demon. (what more he wishes to say about this is up to him…)

Roscoe is the product of the brief coupling of two rangers, brought together in the night around a campfire. The tale, as his father Ahjunta told it, goes that one night a beautiful elven woman appeared in the firelight of his camp. As chance had it they were tracking the same beast. They decided to pool their efforts, being that their quarry was a dangerous and deadly dweomercat. The night before they felled their prey they lay together, and the next day hunted together, bonded as one. With the cat defeated, the elven woman soon moved on. Ahjunta marveled at his fortune, and at the uniqueness of his experience. But as the seasons waxed and waned the memory faded, its luster dulled by the routine of survival.

Years later, the elven woman appeared in the light of Ahjunta’s fire once more, this time bearing a child with her. She urgently explained that the child was their son, and that she was in grave danger and was no longer able to protect herself and the boy. Saying little else she vanished into the night leaving the half-elf child with his father. Roscoe learned his father’s trade: hunting. Whether for food, sport, or commission he learned to track, stalk, and overcome his his quarry. He grew to love the thrill of the chase, the contest of wills between hunter and prey. He quickly developed a connection with the animals he pursued even as he lived among them. Together he and his father traveled far and wide, tracking many varied creatures in as many different lands. Soon Roscoe learned the manner and methodology of the beasts he sought. He fast became adept at tracking, catching, and either subduing or killing them.

But sadly all this found Ahjunta late in his human years, and soon the rigors of the hunt and the perils of the wilderness took their toll on him. He was mortally wounded while hunting a dire-bear. The fell beast was slain, but by the time Roscoe found him there was nothing he could do to save his father.

Ahjunta had been a masterful hunter, but he was also a compassionate altruist. And though he was revered in many lands for the aid he selflessly offered, he died with nothing more than a few coppers and his heavy crossbow, Gladus, to leave his son; not yet fully a man. Roscoe loved his father, and honored his memory, but always resented his sacrificing everything for others, and resolved not to make the same choices. He plied himself to any trade that would turn him a coin, occasionally even more illicit ones. He too earned a reputation for helping local villages menaced by deadly creatures, but his was more mercenary. Even as he became a skilled healer, secretly guilty for being unable to save his father’s life, he always expected some kind of compensation for his services. In harder times he even learned to pick lock and pocket to steal what he needed to survive. He dreams of one day using his spoils to establish a lodge and shoppe for adventurers.

Roscoe is lithe and tall, standing at 6 feet, weighing 160lbs. His features are distinctly elven, high cheek-boned with pointed ears, but his complexion reflects his father’s dark skin and thick black hair. His eyes are bright amber with flecks of gold discoloration. He is decked in a well-worn explorer’s garb with a large pack, and leather armor. He wields his father’s heavy crossbow, dubbed Gladus, but has also been skilled with sling and stone since he was a boy. He keeps a dagger in a wrist sheath for skinning and other close work. He is quick-witted and critical, more than willing to lend aid however he can, but always looking for an angle to work. He has become a seasoned ranger, and cherishes solitude; though lately thinks he could hunt more dangerous and valuable prey in a party…


Ilhopa Danjamon