Alairif was born in House Nordhcoll, one of the oldest families in Minas Tirith.
His father, Alaiden, was captain of the Tower Guard, the most elite unit among the Guards of Minas Tirith. His mother, Maelidril, was among the best blacksmiths in the entire city.
Alairif was trained from a young age to follow in the steps of his father. Until he came of age, he would work as his mother's apprentice in her smithy, learning to care for his weapons and armour. Life was good for the Nordhcolls.

It was a day like any other. Alairif was helping his mother forge a new blade, a replacement for one of the new recruits in the City Guard, but she was distant. She kept looking at the door every few moments, and at a bag she had placed by her forge.

Then the front door burst open, and in came Alaiden, desperate and in shock. "Run!", he yelled, with barely any breath left in him.

Maelidril did not hesitate for one second. She took Alairif, her bag, and they set off. "Where are we going, Mother?", asked Alairif, "Why isn't Father coming?". But she did not answer.

They fled towards Pelargir, a prominent trading hub in Gondor. There, they joined one of the many trading caravans in order to travel to Bree, a land that relatives of Maelidril's called home. The trip was uneventful up until they reached the confines of the Lone-lands, where a roving band of brigands attacked the trading caravan. Thankfully, a nearby patrol rushed to the rescue, and the group was saved. Maelidril, however, did not make it.

Orphaned and in exile, and with no way to contact his mother's relatives, Alairif took whatever odd jobs he could to make a living. Be it a helping hand in the local bakery, or transporting merchandise among the local businesses, things could have been much worse for him. On more than one occasion, he was tempted by some shady individuals with offers of quick, easy coin.

He would have ended up accepting, had it not been for Brandadam. The eccentric lore-master found him one particularly harsh winter, sleeping on the streets, and figured he could use a friend. Brandadam could use a companion in his adventures.

It was then that Alairif's story as a Guardian began. Outfitted with the only kind of equipment he could afford, he set on the life of the mercenary. His mannerisms and strong adherence to his values, fruit of his upbringing and early life, earned him the nickname of "King's Justice". He found pride in such a title.

A few years since he had set on this path, he and Brand ran into the Company of the East Road. Battling the fiercest of wraiths in the Ruins of Fornost, they found Wulfentharg, who had set out on a very similar quest. Impressed by their battle prowess, they were invited into the Company, and it was there that Alairif finally found his place. Among those who, while following the ways of the mercenary, still tried to lead a life of honour. Or, at least, that is what he believes...

Now that the true King of Gondor has returned, Alairif thinks of home. However, he is ashamed of what he has become, and he feels that he no longer has a place among his people. Or, at least, that was the case until he vowed to reclaim his honour.

Along with Guriwen, the love of her life, he founded the Flame of the West, a group who set out to become Eriador's protectors. Facing a new threat from Mordor, they would soon be called to action.