No history of death or disaster, any more than that of her kinsmen that have fallen to the blades and arrows that follow the East, lies in her past, nor a desire for revenge, nor deep need to destroy all the bad in the world. Tinduial follows the Chieftain, in the possibility of hope for the Northern and Southern kingdoms. Her kinsmen were Rangers before her, and likely after as well. Hers has been a life of service to this end, and likely until her death whether it comes soon, or years hence.

Description:
     Straight raven hued hair is wound into a braid tied carefully with a leather strip, framing angular features with eyes that have hardened into stone in the past year of travelling the Shaws. Her skin is still a fine cream colour with a bare sprinkling of freckles dusting across the bridge of her nose, but a once fair cheek is scoured rough by an injury that seems to have removed the skin of the left side of her face. Lean and finely muscled, she is quick in her movements, her artists hands are now scarred and calloused drawing bow or sword with equal efficiency and speed.

     This woman is garbed as most of her kin; in plain, nondescript clothing. Dark wool breeches, bound to the knees with strips of thick fabric, disappearing into sturdy leather boots. Layered tunics of varying shades of brown and green, some embroidered in a delicate hand, others as plain as seen upon the back of a farmer, that can be added or removed according to variances in temperature. A grey woollen hood rests on her shoulders to be raised or lowered at the will of the elements. A cloak is bound about her neck, clasped with an iron pin, travel stained and tattered at the far edges.