Fiddlewick was once the most promising apprentice of the Royal Mapping Guild, a prodigy who could measure the curvature of a coastline by the sound of the surf. His life changed during the Great Survey of the Whisper-Woods. While calibrating his instruments, Fid discovered a creek that flowed three degrees off the local gravitational leyline. Most would call it a 'magical curiosity,' but to Fiddlewick, it was a structural failure of the universe. He spent three days staring into the water until he saw it: a tiny, jagged tear in the fabric of reality where a Sprite had sneaked through. The resulting 'bulge' in the local topography ruined his three-month project.
He didn't pray to a god for guidance; he swore an oath to the very concept of Euclid. He realized that the Prime Material Plane is a perfect, geometric masterpiece being constantly defaced by extraplanar 'graffiti.' To Fid, a demon isn't a source of evil—it’s a smudge of grease on a pristine parchment. A portal isn't a gateway—it’s a coffee stain on the blueprint of existence. He donned heavy plate armor not to be a hero, but because surveying dangerous zones requires personal protection. He now wanders the world with his theodolite and silver quill, 'cleaning' the map by banishing anything that doesn't belong in the local coordinate system.