Hesthorn was born in 2994 T.A. in a little village along the river Celduin south of Esgaroth, his childhood passed happily flowing placid like the river where he loved fish, he learned soon to know the beauty and the threats of Mirkwood that spread behind his village, here he learned to use the bow to hunt wild animals or to kill some foul beasts that approached too close to the village. Growing up, Hesthorn started work at his family’s sawmill, with his father and his brother, many of the village worked there, although the sawmill was not very big earned well because of the position of the village halfway between Esgaroth and Dorwinion lands, even some Dwarf of the Mountain came to buy some woods from his father. His mother was instead an appreciated tailor, she used to sew clothes and cloaks for the inhabitants of the village. So Hesthorn’s life was calm and peaceful, his job at the sawmill made him strong, from his mother he got the love to craft nice things and the hunt made him a good archer. But all this was destined to a tragic end, happened towards the end of the passed year, it was a cold day and in the sky stars started to glimpse, when the road that turns south lighted up of many torches, the bells rang and people ran in their house while the men gathered in the marketplace, it was a massacre, the Easterling knights swooped in on the civilians killing everyone, men women and children, there was no mercy that day. Hesthorn ran in his house saying to the mother to hide, taken the bow and got out he was able to kill three enemies who were trying to get in, soon was flanked by his father and his brother, many enemies fell, but others came and lastly Hesthorn was overwhelmed, hit on the head he fell to the ground, too weak too try any reaction he remained there, the last things he saw were his father killed in front of him and his brother running toward the wood. When he woke up all he could saw were smoking ruins and the bodies of his beloved friends and fellow citizens. He found the strenght to bury his parents, then he called out his brother but none came, would ever meet him again?
Nothing more restrained Hesthorn there, so he left for Esgaroth, after few days of walk he reached the bridge that connect the city to the mainland, the guards rescued him and and when his wounds were healed he was guided to King Brand II himself, Hesthorn told his history and the king moved by pity commanded that the inhabitants of the village were buried with care, the he offered to Hesthorn to join the Army of Dale, but such was the pain that he refused so he was left free to choose his destiny. After few days spent to drink at the inn, he decided to leave Dale-lands forever and joined a group of Dwarfs that was leaving for the Blue Mountains far in the West, the travel was slow but pleasant and he liked the company of the Dwarfs, many were the wonders he saw, the Elf Path that cross Mirkwood, the slopes of the Misty Mountains and the peaks of the High Pass, but once arrived in the Lone Lands the party was atacked by the brigands, the Dwarfs were killed or dispersed and Hesthorn was taken prisoner. Days passed and while was in his cell Hesthorn could hear many conversations, about men called Rangers, abou how the Wraiths were trying to kill them all, and how they were deperatly looking for an Hobbit named Baggins, this last name made Hesthorn smile, cause he rembered a story about a Hobbit named Baggins who visited Esgaroth many years before who helped Thorin Oakenshield to retake Erebor. But his imprisonment was not destined to go on, a morning he was woken by the noise of a fight then suddenly a man appeared in in front of his cell, he was really different fro the brigands, tall and proud and with noble traits his eyes shone of astrange light, he introduced himself as Strider and then he freed Hesthorn…
Tall and robust Hesthorn has long red hairs, they fall on his shoulders framing his round face, a thick beard covers his cheeks, the cheen and the upper lip. This appearence make him look a bit older than he is. He has dark grey eyes like his mother, a long scar runs from the left eyebroe to his nose, gift of an Eaterling blade, fortunately the eye did not suffered ant damage. His muscular physique do not prevent him to move swiftly and silently through the woods. Woods that are his favourite ground and the bow is his best-beloved weapon although he always carries a pair of daggers that uses as last defence. He hates above all the Easterings and brigands, and now he do not fears any death because he has nothing else to lose.