Acelin was born and bred of Dúnedain stock, in the year 2997 of the third age in the Angle south of Rivendell. Though he was born there, he has no memory of that place, as he journeyed with his parents north to Esteldin at a very young age. Said parents, Rangers of the North both, instilled in him during childhood the virtues of his birthright and insured he was aware of the inherent threat arrayed against him from all quarters. As such, it might be said that Acelin was never truly a child, the harsh reality of life in the shadow of Angmar dictating the necessity to put away childish things as soon as possible.
Acelin's earliest recollections involve him eagerly listening to his father tell him the histories of the world while he sat, enraptured. Of all the tales he heard, he loved none so much as those with blades of legend; Angrist and Narsil, Anguirel and Anglachel that was reforged into Gurthang, Ringil. These were the tales that captured him, and brought him his first love, the sword. His mother, far more pragmatic than either son or father, tried to stymie this obsession in favor of the bow, but to no avail. Almost as soon as Acelin could run, he was swinging sticks around and badgering all and sundry for a real sword.
Like most children, Acelin spent much of his time being taught. Unlike most children, he was educated exhaustively, as befitting one of his lineage, fallen into obscurity though it may be. By the device and will of his mother, he learned languages and lores, high table etiquette, sums and the sciences. It was clear to all that she wanted more for her child than what he was given, a life of fear and battle and being loathed as a vagabond. Nonetheless, while Acelin would learn as he was told he was simply bound and determined to aspire to heroics akin to those of legend and would not, could not, be altered in his path. On that, at the celebration of his first decade of life, Acelin was gifted with his first real sword, a child-sized weapon that was dull, but real.
As he grew and came into his own as a boy, his storytelling father and far-sighted mother left him for periods of time to do their duty as Rangers, leaving Acelin free for the first time to examine and explore the world around him without their direct supervision. He grew quickly sad at their absences however, having nightmares regularly and becoming morose, favoring almost none and seeking refuge in solitude. Much to the chagrin of his string of caretakers during this period, Acelin made it a habit of evading them for as long as possible, leaving for the forests and fields of the north downs to be alone.
It was at this time when Acelin found his second love: the wild. As it was, it became his buttress against the absence of his parents and the ill-omened dreams he received. When he was found eventually, it was usually in the company of some squirrel or badger, a kit of foxes, a hawk, all given names by the lad. Most of the peoples of Esteldin would joke that the young Acelin must have names for every fowl in the fields and every egg still in nests. When his parents were around, he would light up, forsaking the wilds and even on occasion the blade just to be with them, their own little shadow.
