Sitting atop L. Nerman Fuddle’s mantel are the remains of his grandmother, the great Norleen Fuddle. Norleen Fuddle was a single mother to duodecuplets, an incredibly rare occurrence, following the unfortunate demise of her husband Marfin at the hands of Boggart marauders. She raised them all to health and prosperity, while harvesting pumpkins and breeding alpacas in eastern Dingledell. The seventh and last boy, Kerman Fuddle, married Pilli Winkymelon, eventually giving birth to Nerman, an only child.
Nerman’s memories of his grandmother are few but everlasting. He can remember the sweet, warm aroma of her renowned kumquat boffleberry pies; the dulcet tones of her lilting laughter, always ready to find humor in the mundane and tragic; the disarmingly soft touch of her calloused hands; and the impressive brute strength she exhibited when she single-handedly defended the Fuddle homestead from a pack of bloodthirsty wereweorgs, cracking their necks, and sending their vile, corrupted souls to irredeemable doom.
“She was a special lady,” Nerman often mutters with a wistful smile, as he sits by the fire.