Borrandir was born on a farm some few miles from what is left of Osgiliath. His parents were a couple of farmers who had settled in the area somewhere around 2975 of the TA. Borrandir was born some years after, in 2979 of the Third Age. He was a single child in his family, so he was loved and raised to be a good kid. His father being a farmer, and his mother, a scholar of Dúnedain blood, taught him to respect the nature and what comes from the grace of Eru. He has learned to respect life in any form, even from a smallest ant to the greatest trees of ancient forests. He had never dreamed that one day all his life would be turned upside down in a single night, and in such a horrifying manner.

On the night in fall of 2994 of the Third Age, when Borrandir was only fifteen years old, a raid of Orcs from the eastern shores of river Anduin crossed to the shores near Osgiliath, landing only half a mile away from Borrandir's farm. He and his parents were caught unprepared, in the middle of their sleep, as burning arrows descended on the rooftops of their farm, blazing everything in their path. Borrandir and his parents stood no chance.

His father was already lost in the first few minutes, as one of the arrows hit him in his sleep. However, Borrandir managed to pull his mother out of the room, and unconscious as she was, it was almost his own doom as well, for the ceiling collapsed on them. Trapped under the pillage of burning wood and rubble, Borrandir was ready to meet his fate. In the midst of this horror, he hearned a horn from distance, something he thought was the call to leave Middle-Earth, so he was prepared to embrace his fate and fall to the cutting flames. But it was not the end he heard, it was the horn of Gondor, and as he screamed for help, he could hear the clank of swords and taunts of the wardens of Osgiliath.

After a few minutes of what seemed like eternity to him, the noise had stopped. There was only an eerie silence and the darkness. He could not see, he could not hear. 

Then, all out of a sudden, his eyes saw a man, a long haired man bowing to reach for him and pull him out of the rubble and ash. It was the man of honor who was one of the Wardens of Osgiliath. Borrandir jumped on his feet in shock, running about the pillage of his home, digging through burning rocks and ash to find his mother. The warden shouted and pulled him back, almost violently. Borrandir screamed for he felt the pain in his heart, and did not care about the flesh wounds the fire had cast upon him. There, right next to the pillage, his mother was laying, barely conscious now. Borrandir approached her, all confused and crying in pain that his mother had met such fate. Her face was burned and almost unrecognizable.

"Borrandir, my son..." she said. "Always follow your dreams my child, always... know.. that dreams are made of your soul's desire... My dream was to see Arnor rebuilt once again, but now ... that dream is gone."

After that, Borrandir could hear nothing more as he screamed in pain, bowing his head down to her mother's chest. She inhaled one last breath, and exhaled one last time. 

There, on the ruins of his home, he had sworn to fulfill his mother's dream, he had sworn to find all of her kin and join them one day in this noble quest, for his mother's dream had become his own. He joined the Wardens of Osgiliath and pledged to kill as many Orcs as he can, and his quest of vengeance was always fueled by his mother's last words. 

After almost ten years of service in the Wardens, Borrandir had finally found someone who shared his dream, and they were called Protectors of the Dúnedain. After ten years of service in the Wardens, being already a veteran of war, he decided to make his travel to Eriador and join the ranks of the Protectors. He wanted to see Arnor restored, and fulfill the dream of his mother.