Orginal Bio
Character Name: Lisse’ Hommel
Race: Half-elf
Age: 17
Class: Bard 15 (apply later for Skald 5)
Alignment: NG
*on the steps of the Hlint courthouse is gathered a group of young people. The perpetual grayness that mars the skies does not seem to be a damper on the festivities that are occurring this day. It is clear to any that observe closely that this is a wedding party. Flowers laced with silk ribbons thread through the bride’s hair as the early winter winds brush past and rustle the heavy brocade satin of her gown. Tiny flakes of snow settle on the jet black hair of the groom and melt to leave tiny shiny spots on the fine leather and jersey of his officer’s dress uniform. At the side of the groom stands a young woman. Her smile announces her obvious pleasure at the union and the affection in her eyes for the young man is clearly that of a sisterly nature. Her dark auburn hair is a striking contrast to the pale, almost grey tone to her skin. But the color her skin lacks is more than made up for by the vibrancy of her emerald eyes and rosy cheeks and lips. The tinkle of her laughter lingers around the couple as she breaks into song. A practiced and promising voice it is that sings the couple to an uncertain but loving future. The party makes it way along the avenues of Hlint to the doorstep of a modest working class home. Here they enter and the sounds of the celebration last well into the night and early morning. With the coming of the dawn, people slowly and sleepily emerge to find their way home. Careful they are to travel in groups as the desperate nature of the times still finds those bold enough to waylay the unwary even within the town.
The singer makes her way to up the stairs of a large home and places her key in the lock to enter. She shrugs off her well made and heavy woolen cloak onto a chair and lets the snow melt from it, the water contained in one place. She quietly makes her way down the hallway into a grand room lined with bookcases and in the corner an ever roaring fire. A small smile crinkles her eyes as she slides gracefully into a chair beside a carved table. She does not appear sleepy as she opens a forest green leather bound book and begins to write.*
Well, it is done. The last of Ellen and Nathan’s brood are married off and their legacy will continue. Even in these dark times it is possible to find something to smile about. They are my family yet sometimes I am left to wonder what family means and really who mine actually is. I know who my mother is; I have never known my father. My mother has no true sisters and brothers, but I am not lacking for aunts and uncles. Ellen was my wet nurse when mother was unable. She is sort of my mother as she stepped in to care for me often when mother would be away on business. Jacee is mothers best friend and an always a watchful eye over me. She smiles little but when she does it lights her face. The years I think have softened my stern auntie for now her bark is much softer. Then again perhaps it is me who has changed.
As for fatherly figures I have an armful. Nathan has ever present been there for me. I can remember the sting of his hand on my backside for the childish pranks Ethan and I were constantly playing. I think he considers me as much his as his seven own. Handsome Jharl still designs to sing to me and I very much enjoy the strength and passion in his music. Mother’s music is powerful as well, but Jharl’s is different. It is something I wish he would teach me, but he will not go against mother’s words and her constant nattering about how Sound creates. Mikey has been gone for almost a year. I miss his half giant ways and I sure miss the rides on top of his shoulders. His strength and poise have inspired me that even though I am tainted I can perhaps achieve something in this world. That being different is not always bad and I have to believe in myself.
iUncle Connor, like mother is rarely around these days. Where mother is wound up in guild business, Uncle Connor is wound in church business. His devotion to Lucinda is admirable and though we have a small shrine to the Lady of Spells in mother’s study, I really cannot say I have the same devotions to her. There are so many other ways of thinking and so many others ways of doing out there to explore that I cannot give myself over to one deity I think. Mother calls Ilsararins daydreaming fools, and having heard tales of some of them I have to tend to agree, but I do think they have lovely songs and art to their credit. Some of the Lucindite festivals I have attended were marvelously fun, but at some deep level I have to agree with mother that the average Lucindite cleric has the decorum of a fishmonger. No offense I hope to the fishmongers. The ones that mother chose for my lessons were quite level headed, but then, she chose them. She also chose my tutors in Elven and my tutors in art and literature as well as the master in charge of my numbers.
The Az’attan priestess that she chose for me was the best though. I liked Ewamy for her stories of the Underdark as well as her knowledge of the songs and such. Mother was able to teach me the language but Ewamy made it come alive. There is a part of me that yearns to travel there, to see my father’s home but that part is also scared. I have heard the stories, listened to my mother cry, seen the anger and felt the shame of my father. I do not wish that which is in me somewhere to rise to the surface. The vileness of my ancestors sickens yet fascinates me. At times a rage reddens my eyes and coldness grips my heart that I cannot explain. These thoughts I have shared with none save Jacee. Her reaction was not what I had thought. Given her hate for my father I expected anger from her. She merely took my hand and told me that it was to be expected, but I must learn to channel those feeling into the right avenues of power. The strong have a responsibility to protect those weaker than them, not an advantage to control them. She said I must learn to understand these feelings and then use them wisely. Jacee always says the oddest things. I detest when she turns those eyes of hers on me. I think she is at times looking for Menvis in my soul. She has yet to frown when doing so I don’t think she has ever found him, but the Gods it makes me squirm.
Mother and I have been at odds lately. She seems preoccupied with business in Port Hampshire and across the sea in Dregar. She says the Dragoncalled are no more. She was haunted by dreams of dragons. She still tosses in her sleep at times and I have seen her drawings of the metallic dragons she told me of. I long to see these things for myself, but I fear them also. I think the time has come for me to take that step out on my own, to be the person I am inside and not be afraid. Caro has asked me to stay with her while her husband is out on patrol. I think it would be a good time to leave Mother to her life and spread my own wings. Perhaps with me gone from the house she will feel less obligated to be a mother and more to be a woman. It has been years since that distinguished man in the red and black robes visited the house. She should get on with her life just as I need to get on with mine.
*she closes her book and takes a look around the room before heading upstairs. In a comfortable room she removes a small satchel and places a few pieces of clothing, some songbooks, scrolls and trinkets. She removes a well worn but cared for hickory bow from the wall and places it beside the satchel. Then she snakes a hand under the bed to pull out a carefully wrapped morning star with a shiny copper shield. Adding them to the pile, she neatly stacks them by the bedroom door before sitting on the edge of the bed. Framed on the bedside table is a painting of a large black panther. She takes the frame in her hand and sadly looks at the picture, tracing the powerful but kindly features with a finger before curling up with it and drifting off to sleep*
/// Lisse’ will have a starting Intelligence of 14(+2) to qualify for both the elven and Drow languages having been tutored extensively in both since a young child. I understand that Skald will not be approved on creation and I will keep a character development journal and reapply for it at a later date
If she had a CDJ, I can't seem to find it so I will be starting a new one. Submitting for fighter levels (5 or 6 - five taken consecutively, we'll see about more as she delvelps) Skald is not out of the realm of possibility but with Jharl not playing she'd have to find a new mentor as the GM pool for CDQ is thin. Will apply again if she goes that route.
