Fyllion
| Level | 5 |
|---|---|
| Race | Eladrin (Elf) |
| Class and subclass | College of Glamour Bard |
| Played by | RedFoxHighlander |
Fyllion Springcrest, Prince of the Spring Court. Alias of Skaravel (Skara for friends)<ref>Revealed in Session 27</ref>. Also known as Tommy Lutish in the Halfling form he appeared as in the city of Koh'Shar.
This glamorous Eladrin prince never stays in one place for too long. He is a very charismatic person and a jovial smiler/talker. A real people pleaser.
Rumors about Fyllion:
- Fyllion is a charmer and a flirt, but never a breaker of hearts. His fey charm might have something to do with that.
- Fyllion is a liar, he isn’t really a prince of the Spring Court and he isn’t really a fey.
- Fyllion can change his appearance at will. Sometimes people notice small differences in his appearance depending on his mood or the time of year.
He has a brother Dan (?) and a sister Verinestra. (Session 28) Fyllion is the youngest son.
Trivia
- Apparently, Fyllion can't hold his liquor.
- As Fyllion gets more experience in battle, he's learnt the knack of dissonant whispers (youtube) to frighten and harm his opponents
Discography
...
Fyllion's reputation tour: what do the gossips say about our Arch Fey
Written by Meinhart, as a birthday present for Tuur
I heard a rumour the secret prince of the spring court was raised by a satyr who taught him to play any musical instrument with a proficiency that can make Orpheus weep.
I heard a rumour an Elvish singer-song writer organized a birthday parade on a whim, for a street urchin he met in Thalm Samut. There were nine ponies, on roller skates, ridden by nine baton twirlers, wearing nine flame crowns, wending their way to the city square where nine hot air balloons landed. Nine mimes stepped forth and handed out nine blood oranges to nine random people in the crowd.
I heard a rumour some people believe this bard’s curls rise higher as the applause gets louder.
I heard a rumour the singing bandit Fyllion helped a queen in a far-away land. Since an evil mirror had cursed her son on his twenty-first birthday, two crown princes haunted the marble halls of that fabulous palace, and no one could tell the true prince from the false. Fyllion sang this song my heart is a muscle the size of a rat, yo-hey yo-hoo, my brain is four times as big as a cat’s, yo-hey yo-hoo, my lungs hold 5.5 litres of air, yo-hey yo-hoo, the soles of my feet can never grow hair, yo-hey yo-hoo and everyone who heard him, sang along, till the monstrous mimic got confused and transformed into the bandit rather than the prince. The guards sprung into action and the queen is forever grateful.
I heard a rumour one town has named Fyllion the king of the Riverstreet Inn after one glorious night of partying and carousing.
I heard a rumour there’s a secret convent, deep in the woods, where no sound is heard beyond the susurration of gently falling leaves and the murmuration of water dancing over the pebbles in the brook nearby. They say the convent is built as certain dark things are built, in secret, between the shadow and the soul. It is not decorated with salt-roses or topaz. The gardens hold no arrows of carnations that spring shoots off. They maintain a certain solid fragrance, risen from the earth, lingers gently in the convent. They say this place is dedicated to Springcrest’s victims. One wing of the convent is for those who have foresworn all other lovers after a single night spent with the prince. The other wing, they say, is for the people who now dedicate their life to the beauty of a single line from his songs. They swear no mortal is ever the same, after they’ve met him flitting about on the road or singing for stage or hearth, bewildering and captivating all who encounter him.
I heard a rumour that hidden among Fyllion’s luscious locks is a single horny nub, where his Arch Fey heritage is ground down to fit in with those of the mortal plane, and to hide his unicorn nature from the Spring Court’s enemies.
I heard a rumour Fyllion Springcrest was conceived in the night of the midsummer moon. They say Queen Titiana bore him in secret, warned by a satyr that her child would be half Fey, half human, half donkey. The Fey whisper that he is unmoored from any boundaries of time and space. He is said to age forward and backward, appearing as a wise old sage one moment and carefree child the next. Hushed speculations are shared that his every decision echoes across the tapestry of destiny, altering the lives of all beings, mortal and fey alike. They claim a single of his songs can shift the threads of fate and change the course of the world. The fey revere him as a figure of immense power. Some have promised to hunt him wherever he goes, others have vowed to decimate whoever he decimates. The final rumour is the destiny of all rests upon his shoulders, and his ultimate choice may decide the very fate of their enchanted realm.