Born amidst the meticulously geared landscapes of the floating Clockwork Isles, Boddynock never saw a distinction between a well-oiled machine and a thriving rosebushes. While his kin obsessed over escapements and steam-valves, Boddynock looked at the overgrown, chaotic mainland and saw a garden crying out for a master’s touch. He took up the mace not to conquer, but to clear the weeds of malice and the thorns of tyranny that choke the potential of common folk.
His defining moment came during the Siege of Oakhaven, where instead of joining the shield wall, he spent the entire night under heavy fire transplanting a century-old white oak sapling that stood in the path of a siege ram. When the morning sun rose, the tree was safe, and the spectral hummingbirds of his faith had driven back the invaders with blinding speed. He realized then that protection is an act of cultivation; he does not fight to destroy the dark, but to preserve the light so it might eventually bloom even in the harshest soil.