Arakes is a descendant of the Mantioch Dwarves who grew from long term exposure to Learite, becoming the Mantioch, or the giants. However, he is small for a giant, only around 11 foot tall, so had a rough life growing up because of this, causing him to leave before his 28th birthday - manhood in giant culture - and venture south in search of a better life, here he met Gwyndolin and saved him from trolls. Arakes would go on to join Gwyndolin in his tavern the Talon and Shield.

Panting heavily, the barkeep heaved himself up the rock, lying flat on the hard ground.
 
"Fine..." He gasped through laboured breaths, "I climbed the bloody hill, now what do you want to show me?"
 
His friend, offering him a head sized hand, chuckled, "good to see you Gwyn. I'm glad you came."
 
Taking his hand, the barkeep, Gwyn, followed his friend who towered above him. Along the narrow ridge, the wind ripped at his wool surcoat, nearly pulling him off, down to the rocks beneath him. 
 
"Careful!" His companion shouted above the gale, "don't want to scrape you off the stones!" 
 
"Arakes, why are we here? It's bloody freezing." Gwyn called back.
 
Arakes didn't reply immediately as the pair scrambled to a stony basin, stopping at a small stream where he drank deeply. Standing, eyes on the horizon, he gestured to the valley below. Walking to the edge, Gwyn saw all the way to the coast, ships sailing from the city, to adventures beyond.
 
"Do you remember the day we met?" Arakes spoke softly, sitting on the ledge. "Stopped you from getting turned into a troll's dinner."
 
Gwyn stood by him, something wasn't right. His friend wasn't sentimental at the best of times, and these were hardly those. 
 
"Is this about the tavern?" Gwyn asked, "we'll find a way, dear friend, we can always rebuild."
 
Arakes didn't answer right away,