Israphil, son of Isolphir, is a Ranger of Eriador, and Dunland. His responsibilities consist of training recruits, leading scouting efforts, tracking and reconnaisance. Harnessing his unique skills, he also leads skirmishes and missions of espionage.

Due to his mixed heritage, he is also often used as an emissary and peacekeeper for toward on behalf of the Dunlendings of Enedwaith.

He also likes to cause mischief.

But Israphil was not always a man of prowess and title...

Not knowing much about where he was born (though he suspects it was somewhere south of Swanfleet), his father took him to Esteldin in his youth after his mother and sister died. His father, a great ranger, originally watched the lands between Cardolan and Dunland. His father then died from old age on Israphil's twelfth birthday, seeming to having not been gifted with the long life of the Dunedain.

While still venerated for his deeds on the southern border, Isolphir went down in Dunedain history with the name "Isolphir the Giftless". Israphil's peers, following his father's "giftless" departure and Israphil's uncommon appearance for a Dunedain, was given the nickname 'Israphil the damned' on account of the assumed likelihood he too, did not live with the gift of the Valar.

Orphaned, he was raised by the rangers of Esteldin. Though while he was particularly adept with a bow and blade, he was disinterested with the learning of the history of the Dunedain or their responsibilities and instead spent his youth as a nuisance to his mentors, slacking off from his duties.

Eventually, on account of his laziness, at the age of 24, his mentor believed the only chance Israphil had of honouring his father was to send him away from the North Downs. He was given the task of watching the borders of the Shire, and was not permitted to return until he proved to the Rangers that he was ready for the duties as a protector of the free peoples.

He spent the following 3 years wandering the Shire borders, stalking the occasional wolf-pack and terrorising brigands (more for his entertainment than out of a sense of duty), but mostly took his station as more of an extended leave of absence, dozing under trees, and occationally eating and drinking with halflings that came across him doing so.

Much to his amusement, he was found one morning asleep in the Golden Perch Inn ale-store and, when confronted by the tavern-keep for having trespassed and drinking a barrel of ale (hobbit-sized, mind), Israphil couldn't for the life of him remember how he found his way there. He was, following a week of dish-duty at the Perch, known as "Fuzzy Longshanks" by the inhabitants Stock.

All had worked out rather well for Israphil until he began hearing whispers of tall, dark, shadowy men travelling through the Shire...