Aramil Fynn grew up on a farm, in a small village in M'Chek. His father was a lazy drunkard, making Aramil do twice his share of the farmwork, beating him if he tried to rest. Sometimes his father would catch young Aramil trying to read a book; that would earn him a beating as well. "Wadda ya lookin at books for? You cant read, and you aint ever gonna learn. You aint ever gonna be nobody, you scrawny pile 'a chicken dung. Get back to work!"
Aramil's mother was a weak-spirited woman, doing nothing to intervene or ease her son's suffering. Aramil grew to hate her just as much as his father for her inaction. Eventually Aramil could take no more. He was a young man and he decided to strike out on his own. He snuck out of the house one night and headed for the city.
In Mikona, Aramil was able to make some meager form of living passing messages and doing miscellaneous work for the wealthy. One old man, a kindly tax collector by the name of Gavrey, took Aramil under his wing. Aramil would run errands for him during the day; at night, the old man gave Aramil what had been previously forbidden to him... knowledge. Gavrey tutored him in reading, writing, and mathematics.
Aramil spent a good deal of his spare time in the Great Library, perusing the works there. One day he came upon a dusty old book, behind some others... it looked long forgotten and unused. Opening the cover, he found it was filled with strange writing and runes he could not understand, and yet seemed familiar at the same time. Confused, but more than a little interested, Aramil slipped the book into his bag.
Aramil devoted all of his time now to unraveling the mysteries of the tome he discovered; he found himself inexplicably drawn to it. Gavrey's health was declining, and he passed on one night in his sleep. Aramil mourned the loss of the man who was more of a father than any he had known. After a time of sadness, Aramil returned to his study with renewed vigor.
Then one day, the tome was a mystery to Aramil no more. Aramil read the words aloud and felt power flow through his body. The room was suddenly lit as if by a hundred candles. Magic! "This is my calling," he thought. Aramil remembered the words of his father, the many times he put him down and tried to break his spirit. "I will become more powerful than he could ever imagine... but I will not stand idle as my mother does. I will protect the weak and punish those that would hurt them. Evil will feel my wrath!"
And so a wizard was born. Aramil is ambitious; he feels compelled to succeed in all endeavors, and he intends to develop his magical powers to their full potential. This is tempered by a strong sense of compassion, a common-sense idea of right and wrong, and a need to defend those that cannot defend themselves.
Recently, Aramil was promoted to the rank of Senior Mage of Mikona in the Ivory Order of the Sun. He takes this position and its responisiblities very seriously. He has been spending his time researching the weaknesses of the sereg in preparation for the upcoming invasion, and attempting to find a cure for the spite which has afflicated him and so many others in Mikona.