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Tyndall was a Sylvan, was male, was a Warrior, and was wearing the symbol of Rising Claw.

Tyndall is one of Puddleby's great fallen warriors, in the company of Eyeball and K'Pyn. He was a mighty fighter, with a sharp blade and a body tough as nails from his hours spent hunting. However burly he may have been, his heart was as warm as the sun, and as soft as butter in that sun's shine. He was a friend to many, and will be sorely missed by all who knew him.

A statue in memory and celebration of his life can be found in the Memorial Garden.

The following is Tyndall's Story, as written by Tyndall.

A salty sea breeze alive with the scent of forest evergreens is one clear memory I retain of my early childhood. The stench of carnage, another. Left to die after the destruction of my village and people, I lay for some days amongst the ruins of our once idyllic valley home. Or so I was told by the people who found me. So young was I that I could not ken the import of events that day, and have only the vaguest images of my life and parents at that time.

Some years later, my rescuers told me they had found only myself alive amidst the carnage of the village. They took me in that day and treated me as if I were one of their own. To such an extent, in fact, that I thought I was. When I was old enough, I was told me the grim truth of my past. It seems that some people in the village were conspirators in a plot to undermine and overthrow the Emperor Mobius. His roving inquisitors somehow gained wind of this and decided to make an example of the entire village. The fearsome sentinels were called in to utterly destroy it in a manner that would leave no doubt as to what happened to those who conspired such. My rescuers tell me they know naught about my past other than this, and the fact that I wore a curiously inscribed pendant with the word Tyndall on the back. Hence my name, such as it is, for none of them knew the meaning of the word, nor have I ever found out.

My surrogate parents lived as far as they could from Mobius' oppression in the heart of the forest. Well versed were they in the ways of the forest and the sword, and many a day was I tutored in their essentials. Life was good amongst these folk yet I began to crave more and more for a way to revenge my stolen childhood and to discover who I was. When told of the Lok'groton Island chain, and the exiles who resided there, I arranged for passage and took my leave to find my fate.

Little did I know just how difficult life would be in this new and strange world. The struggle for survival alone seemed to consume most of my days, and certainly all of my energy. Then one day I was befriended by a kind young healer named Oops, who endeavoured to show me some of the workings of this new land and the town of Puddleby. Some years have passed now, and I am almost content in this new life. My soul, however, still cries for vengeance on the person ultimately responsible for the desecration of my home and life. One day this shall happen, but I am wise enough now to understand the time and immense effort it will take. In this new land though, I see hope for just such a day.

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Page last modified on March 12, 2009, at 10:35 AM