Randen is a young-ish elf of 120 years old, who spent his formative years growing up in an elven forest far away from Belfrost. A few years ago, with the advice of his parents, he decided to move to Belfrost where he would be exposed to a more diverse community: his parents feared that being isolated from the world, living among elves only, would make him close-minded. They thought the change would do him good, and the idea of seeing a bit more of the world appealed to him.
Unfortunately the time that Randen has spent in Belfrost hasn't been a very positive one. His initial excitement at seeing new faces, new races, new customs, and new ways of living, gave way to a grim reality: despite their potential for greatness, most of the humans in Belfrost are... well, disgusting. They treat each other unkindly, they're rude, they're not nearly as smart as they seem to think they are, and they don't seem to have much compassion for the less fortunate.
Recently, Randen has taken to spending time down at the docks. If the people there are a little more crude, they at least have the decency to be honest about it... unless they're inherently dishonest thieves and liars, and even there, he has come to develop some respect for their trade. Randen's disappointment in Belfrost has caused him to become interested in the recent WOrkers' Rights Movement (with the unfortunate acronym WORM). He knows that he needs to find something he can do, something to help him regain his faith in the world. He's afraid that the chaos in his chaotic good world view is becoming a bit strong, and that he is becoming dangerously fond of spending his time drinking in bars where he tries to view Belfrost as he once imagined it, instead of how it really is.
Pet-peeve: His name is pronounced 'Rawn-den', with the first syllable rhyming with 'yawn', not 'man'--and he hates it when people mispronounce his name.