Jillian Topazrine

[Indigo Eye]

Full name: Jillian Topazrine
Gender: Female
Age: 117
Race: Elf
Subrace: None
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Deity: Ilsare
Classes: Bard/Fighter

Bio:
"Music is perhaps the greatest shape of communication, entertainment and emotions. No language, no word can raise the veil to one’s soul and personality as the music. It is not truly an art, but a natural, intuitive phenomenon that all of the intelligent races of this magnificent world we live in are born with, and capable to understand. However, I and many, many more of fellow elves as well as everything from goblins to dragons form the raw natural music through performing, composing and improvising into the arts of singing, playing and dancing. Evolving one’s art of music through your voice or instrument to the listeners has made me able to actually see how my music and poetry effects the listener’s emotions, morals, and prowess. I see the art of music as beautiful and amazing, as the fighter’s skills with a blade are beautiful and amazing, and as the mage’s powers with magic are beautiful and amazing... however not all see what I see. Fighters see magic as dangerous, cowardly and unnatural, and mages see the fighters as weak brutes that avoid leaving the 'primitive’ way of life. It is my greatest wish to raise the veil to the souls to victims of such antagonism, and make them see at each other as equals who both shares a common beauty, the amazing mastery of an art. And how to fulfil my own wish? By combining harmony, rhythm and melody with the essence of magic and combat, composing them into one piece of art, that will bring equality, inspiration and love to whoever is the listener. This was your greatest wish, dear father, and I will prove to you that making the wish into reality is the most good-hearted and noble deed that a living being can ever make. For love, respect and happiness is something every soul of the world, good or evil, shall witness and experience – not only to himself, for that is not how music keeps existing. No, music and poetry is to be shared on and on, so everyone will experience the joy of listening as well as the joy of passing it on to the next soul, and witness that soul shine with happiness and love as well. That is what you, father, did to me, and what I will do to whoever that takes his or her time to sit down and share the love, respect and joy of equality."

- Jillian Topazrine, as she wrote in her Leaflet of Demise to honour her dead father’s burial.

"It’s actually a little funny..."
The elven woman smiled softly and looked to the sky, shrouded by thoughts and old memories. Her elven features and silvery hair that almost reflected the light from the moon made her amazingly beautiful. She was sitting on her bedroll, close to the campfire, with her favourite instrument, a beautiful crafted mandolin. She looked down again:
"I’m a bard and supposed to be great at telling stories of legends and heroes. But when it comes to a tale about myself, I’m no more than an ordinary tavern patron from the road."
She grinned and shrugged.
"I guess I should start where all other tales start, in the home of the hero’s parents..."
"My mother was a performer, who travelled with a caravan, together with her fellow artists. It was kind of a coincidence that she met my father. He was a wandering bard who enjoyed entertaining and telling stories at the inns he arrived to, but he was homeless, and without any companions on his travels. So the day came when he was in the very same town as the caravan, and it didn’t take long before he was hired by the master of the caravan to join the group of entertainers in their travels."
She paused and looked into the fires, and then chuckled quietly.
"I guess there’s no need to get into details about how they met each other, the way of love is how it is, and after spending a couple of weeks with the caravan, father found mum, and they fell in love."
She stroked a tiny amulet she was wearing around her neck. It was a mystery how she found exactly that amulet, as she wore at least ten more different amulets. Actually she was a bit messy to look on: her cloth was made of different garments that were sewn together into a single outfit of loose patches in all colours imaginable. Also she was wearing feathers, amulets, bracelets, charms, and all sorts of gewgaws. But overall it matched her perfect build in a graceful way, and made her strangely beautiful to look at. She looked at the amulet; it was made of a blue stone, shaped as a shield, and with a softly glowing heart in the middle – the symbol of Ilsare, the Lady of Dreams.
"Well, present became past, and my parents finally decided to settle down near Haven. My birth came shortly after, and I was also the last. They loved me, and I loved them in return, and we were a happy family by all means. I was named Jillian, after my mother, and Topazrine after my father."
Again she pauses, and places a finger on her lips in wonder.
"Hmm, Jillian sounds a little human, don’t you think? I guess it is. My father always loved the short-lived humans, and how quickly they could adapt themselves to all sorts of situations. And with Haven lying so close to Sielwood, and even on a trade route between Forewarn Fort and Blackford, it is impressive the humans can withstand the raids that with no doubt occurs."
Jillian silenced and looked down. When she looked up again her eyes were soaked in tears, and she slowly continued, as she tried to keep the tears back. Seeing her crying just seemed so wrong on a girl who radiates so much joy and beauty.
"...But even the defences build by the humans couldn’t save my father from the Harvester of Souls’ mark, and the Soul Mother took him far too early!"
She hid her head between her hands, and cried, as the memories of her departed father’s death almost attacked her slender body, and all who listened couldn’t help themselves but to feel pity for the elf. After several moments, she looked up and continued.
"Me and my mother made it to the castle and its defensive walls, and none of us could rest that terrible night. Dawn came, and the battle against the raiders was over. People were gathering the fallen, and among them I saw my very own father, felled by a single arrow in the chest. I think I was around 40 years old at that time, and never before had I been overwhelmed by so many feelings as when I saw my father lying there."
Moments went by, and she finally swallowed and the tears stopped rolling down her cheek
"The years passed, and mum never recovered from the loss of her husband. It was like she withered away in front of me, and seeing her suffer made me feel so sad. I know she tried to hide her suffering when I was around, but hearing her crying at nights didn’t help me in any way at all."
She looked at her gear as she spoke, and paused for a while. She drew a rapier forth, and said:
"I, however didn’t want to continue my life in sadness, and when I found my fathers old lyrics and poetry, and his beloved mandolin, I sought salvation in the music. When I was searching through my father’s old stuff, I also found his old favourite weapon, a slender, but blunt rapier. I picked it up and swung it. I felt as if my hands were shaped to hold the light weapon, and I knew that in the time I would live here in Haven with my mother, there would be even more raids of bandits and the like. So I sought training at the weapon master at the castle. The years passed, and I became more and more familiar with my weapon."
She sighed as she looked at the rapier beside her, and continued:
"The training was hard, and in whatever spare time I had, I picked up the mandolin. Mother was still suffering from the loss of my father, and I knew he wouldn’t want her to live that. Luckily, when I had begun my training with the rapier, and begun playing the mandolin, it was as if my mother slowly recovered and returned to her ordinary life. It was exactly what I wanted, and I’m sure father would be proud if he saw me now."
She smiled at the thought and looked to the sky.
"He is somewhere, looking at me, somewhere out there he is watching my progress, and wondering what I, his only daughter, would dare to do to the world. That very same thought came to me fifty years ago, and I wrote a leaflet in his honour, about my thoughts of the future. I wonder if he ever got it?"
She looked at her hands, and drew one through her silvery hair. A moment later she continued:
"And then the years went by, I finished my training, and my interests in the world and my surroundings grew. My mother had begun performing again, and eventually the day came where she came to me. She was suggesting that I leaved the town and travelled with the caravan from Forewarn Fort. It would be good for me, and my wanderlust, she said, and she was sure that it was what my father wanted, to see me travel into the world and bring joy and love to all I met on my way. So I gathered whatever possessions I had, and after an emotional farewell, I travelled with the you, a couple of days later."
She looked around at the merchants that were deeply absorbed with her story, and smiled to them all.
"And here I am, with you, on our way to Blackford. Really, that is all. I’m not sure there’s much more to tell."
There was silence in the camp for a while, until Jillian picked up her mandolin, and stroked the strings.
"This was a song I found between my fathers lyrics,"
she said, as she tuned the mandolin properly.
"It is about the love of the Lady of Dreams, Ilsare, and her deeds. One of father’s favourites.”
And then she sang, and the forest became quiet, as even the trees listened. A merchant boy looked at the caravan cook’s daughter, who looked back and smiled. The merchants smiled, and the shadows of the trees were no longer dark and sinister, but almost avoided to look to scary in that moment of joy.
"She is indeed an amazing bard,"
the merchant leader mumbled.
"Of such skill I’ve never witnessed before."

Soon after, the caravan made it to Hlint, and there Jillian Topazrine saw exactly what she had been looking for. A stream of adventurers entered and exited town all the time, accompanied by people as strange as herself. She saw mages in thick robes, fighters wearing sword and shield, and sneaky characters that passed by in the shadows of the tree trunks.
She turned to the merchants, and said:
"This is it my friends, I will be getting off here. I’ve found a place where my skills will be of use, a place of adventure and legends. Perhaps this is the place where I will entertain, and write my songs."
The merchants nodded in agreement. They waved their goodbyes, as Jillian walked down the hills toward the town gates.

Description:
This beautiful girl before you smiles friendly as you look at her, and when you observe her moving, you notice the graceful movements that so commonly reveal the elven race. However she almost seems to dance when she walks, a dance filled with joy and life, and you can’t help yourself, but to smile. Her silvery hair looks tousled, though it only adds to her stunning beauty. She dresses in strange clothes, made out of patches from all sorts of dresses, sewn together into a single outfit. She is wearing all sorts of amulets, bracelets, rings and necklaces, as well as oddities as feathers, loose cloth strings and patches. Overall she is quite messy to look at, but the complexity of her dress melts effortlessly into her slender elven features.

[Leanthar]

Good job.
Approved.