
Lord of Tor Elyr, Arandir Swiftwing suffers from a misshapen hip after his beloved steed, Sarothiel was shot by a poison-tipped crossbow bolt thirty years ago, during a skirmish with Druchii raiders seeking to plunder the northern herds of Ellyrion. His horse died so swiftly that she could not prevent herself from rolling over her rider and crushing his pelvis. With the healers unable to reknit the bone, and his muscles having reformed wrongly around the ossified mass, Arandir has grown bitter. He hates the Fates of Morai-heg, that she had cursed him so. A lord of Ellyrion who could not ride. Now every time he thought of Sarothiel, he finds his hand straying to his twisted hip. With such a painful limp, his days of riding alongside his warriors are long gone. He's even come to dislike the time of day when afternoon turns to gloaming, seeing it as a shadowy cloak that concealed assassins or spies.[1a]
In Tor Elyr, as befitting a noble of Ellyrion, Arandir's quarters are clean and sparsely decorated, with only a few trophies taken in his time as a Reaver Knight hanging on the walls. Numerous bookshelves sag under the weight of treatises on mounted warfare, with one such essay penned by no less a figure than Aenarion himself. Admittedly, his tactical writings dealt with fighting from the back of a dragon, but the fact that the Defender's hand had touched that scroll was reason enough to treasure it. These days, warriors were fortunate if they had even seen a dragon, let alone fought from the back of one. Beyond Arandir's collection, and a table heaped with paperwork, he owns a specially carved chair that allows him to sit with the least amount of discomfort.[1a]
Regarding family, Arandir's wife has long been dead, his daughter apprenticed to a mage at the Tower of Hoeth, and all his sons are abroad somewhere in the Old World. In their absence, the only thing close to a family he had was in Casadesus, his bondsman.[1a]
Even with such a disfigurement to his hip, however, should Tor Elyr come under siege, Lord Swiftwing will take to the battlefield atop a chariot, donning feathered helm, azure cloak and ithilmar breastplate, his family's sword, a glittering blade of sapphire steel,[1c] sheathed in a scabbard specially modified to fit around his lopsided waist. Casadesus, too, will take to the field as Swiftwing's spear-bearer, the bondsman proud to serve his old friend in defence of Ellyrion.[1b]
Swiftwing's banner of a rearing silver horse against a crimson background flaps from his chariot's armoured prow, said-chariot described as being constructed from lacquered black starwood edged in gold.[1c] Enchantments woven into the timbers protect it from harm, and with Casadesus' great skill, the heavy chariot can wheel and twist in exquisite arcs that can carry it close to the enemy to strike, but fast enough that they could not board it. And though Swiftwing cannot draw a bow, his bondsman can pass long javelins that he can hurl with deadly accuracy.[1d]