Old Arn
Old Arn is the village's oldest and most enigmatic resident, though no one knows exactly how old he is or where he came from. His frail, hunched figure belies a man who has seen more years than he can count, and his leathery skin is tanned and weathered from a life spent outdoors. His white hair, long and tangled, frames a face marked by deep wrinkles, with cloudy, unfocused eyes that seem to drift between reality and distant memories.
Arn dresses in ragged layers of patchwork cloth, scavenged from different eras and stitched together without much care for style. A crooked walking stick, carved with strange symbols that even he can’t explain, is always in his hand, helping him shuffle about the village. His gait is slow and uneven, and his hands tremble with age, but there’s an eerie steadiness to his presence that unnerves those who speak with him.
Arn's mind is like a foggy maze, often lost in disjointed recollections of the past. He can be lucid one moment, offering sage advice or recounting forgotten lore, and utterly confused the next, mistaking people for long-dead villagers or rambling about events no one remembers. He often refers to things as if they’ve just happened, even though they occurred decades ago. Despite this, the villagers of Grimholt look to him for guidance, if only because he seems to be the last connection to their mysterious past.
He rarely speaks directly about the ghoul or ghost that haunts Grimholt, but when asked, he’ll mutter cryptic warnings about "the old family" and how "they never left." Arn sometimes mumbles about the grand manor on the hill, claiming that it holds the answers to Grimholt’s curse, though no one is sure whether to believe him or dismiss it as the ravings of a confused old man.
Though he’s not a formal leader, Arn is the closest thing Grimholt has to one. People seek him out when they’re desperate, hoping his fragmented wisdom can help solve their problems. He speaks in riddles and half-remembered tales, but occasionally, amidst his ramblings, he’ll reveal a truth or a warning that the villagers can’t afford to ignore.