Yakarth is a 29 year old Half-Elf Rogue who joined the adventuring party in the Firetips.
His family has been nomadic for generations, living in and around the Firetips. A few of these generations have managed to wring an agrarian living from the land, but far more have resorted to odd jobs and thievery to get by. Yakarth's extended family is surprisingly large. Without houses, without attachments to identifiable places, they're practically ghosts. The rickety market stand that was there one week and gone the next? Could have been Yakarth's.
Yakarth himself doesn't know his exact birthplace. His folks moved them around so much during his formative years that it's all a jumble in his head. Every now and again, a landmark in his peripheral vision tickles his jumbled memories. But, nothing ever rises to the surface; nothing concrete, anyway. He suspects that his parents know... but he wouldn't blame them for forgetting. He can't even recall the birthplaces of the two out of five siblings born after him.
He does remember the fountain at Midhaf. Once every seven years or so, parts of his family made a pilgrimage of sorts to to the town. Outsiders, they confined themselves to the shadows and the night, invisible to the residents who had nearly all forgotten the history. Markings on buildings. scratches on stone just out of sight of the unawares led them each time to meet with long-missed fragments of his family. Someday, the well would bear water again.
Yakarth has taken a serendipitous approach to adult life. His surviving brothers and sisters stick by the family. Yakarth the contrarian has an incurable wanderlust. He's found that it's better to let trouble come his way, rather than go out and seek it. The trouble you get when you go out looking is often the same kind of trouble you had yesterday. If you let it come to you, it could be anything.
It is by this process that Yakarth now finds himself a handler of animals. It smells like a profitable journey!