Fyddle has gold-flecked crystal green eyes and a crooked nose. Her golden-streaked strawberry hair is long and curly, and is worn tousled. She has fair skin and a scrawny figure. She is tiny for a Gnome.
She is wearing a tattered linen handkerchief, a tarnished silver necklace with a tiny heart pendant, a snowy white leather backpack dangling white silver-gilt feathers on the drawstrings, a white linen shirt with long sleeves, a smooth silver-plated ring set with a cambrinth teardrop, a wide silk sash finished with a knotted fringe, a pair of shadowy black cropped pants with suede knee patches and a pair of steel-toed leather boots.
At first glance, Fyddle may appear to be the scrawniest member of the Lyddle clan, but what she lacks in stature, she more than makes up for in pure determination and fire. Drawn to noise, glitter, and chaos, she often spoke of traveling to The Crossing to fulfill her destiny as a bard.
Regretfully, Fyddle’s jeweler-minded family refused to hear of this musical nonsense. They cajoled and squelched her dream, pushing her to become a trader, encouraging her to use her persuasive (and often overbearing) nature to sell the wares that had made the clan so prosperous.
Undeterred, she gathered her meager belongings and snuck out in the night, determined to prove her family wrong. Caught up in her fantastical plans, she never noticed the shadow tracking her from a distance. In fact, she didn’t notice it right up until it stepped on her heels—literally! Startled, she spun around, finding herself face-to-face with her equally startled, and slightly chagrined, younger brother, Twyddle. Muttering and huffing about not wanting to walk him back, she agreed to let him continue on with her, secretly glad for the company.
Reaching the Crossing, her brother immediately fell in with a group of rangers, finding that his love of nature and skill in sister-tracking was a natural fit. Fyddle immediately dove into the performing arts, thrilled to finally be living her dream.
Tragically, Fyddle’s expectation of instantaneous fame was not as immediate as she’d hoped. In fact, meals often came by way of slightly softened foodstuffs thrown at her by a heckling audience. The meager coins received were either tokens of pity or ‘dropped’ by her drunken listeners. She quickly realized that she must find a way to supplement her income until the masses came to their senses regarding her stupendous talent.
While “foraging” for tips in a mage’s pockets one evening, whisperings of a lucrative job reached her ears. Sneaking down to the docks, she conversed with the infamous Ragran, agreeing to join the Idon Raiders for a price. The reign of the Raiders began that night—fulfilling her need for bedlam and all things shiny.
Still not willing to admit her bardic pursuits were temporarily less profitable than she’d expected, Fyddle concocted fantastic stories of her musical performances to anyone that would listen. Her brother’s head firmly wedged in the trees, Twyddle was quick to believe stories of her success. His letters home were apparently convincing, evidenced by the arrival of their cousin, Dyddle.
Fully aware of his cousin’s penchant for storytelling, Dyddle was unwilling to believe Fyddle’s tales without seeing it for himself. He quickly discovered her clandestine meetings with the Raiders and insisted on being included.
When not participating in terrorizing Elanthia with the Idon Raiders, Fyddle and her cousin, Dyddle, can be found traveling around Zoluren engaging in various schemes of extortion, bribery, and theft.