Cicero Ton-Thalas

Charming, but a bit off. Athletic, but a bit awkward. Surprisingly Cheerful.


At first glance, Cicero looks like a tall and awkward elf. Long silver-brown hair tied back frames an angular face, with a neck just a bit too long. His limbs also seem particularly long, and it’d be easy to see him gangly and clumsy. But his movements are so graceful, and his long limbs so agile that he projects an aura of physical competence. Some have compared him to a bird of prey – usually himself, in poetry. His skill in movement is seen when he dances, when he entertains, and when he fights.

But then he opens his mouth, and ruins it. Despite a handsome look, good clothes, and physical grace, he can be surprisingly impolitic in what he says. He makes up for it with relentless cheerfulness and good spirits. His skill with poetry and good looks usually make him a success with the ladies. For those who are not romantic targets, he buys drinks and tells stories.

Cicero is usually wearing red dark, including dyed leathers. He is dressed in a dapper fashion whenever possible, including while adventuring.


Cicero was born in a small Elven community on the edge of the abandoned city Celwynvian. His family had come to the Mierani Forest in Varisia to help reclaim the City of Emerald Rains. In his youth Cicero was trained in the ways of the Elven Bards, preparing to carry the stories of his people forward, and record the ventures in Celwynvian. His family also had a proud tradition being bowyers, and so Cicero trained with his family’s proud heirloom: The Ton-Thalas Bow. He spent his days running the woods, between the scattered Elven encampments, learning stories, poems, and songs.

Before his training was completed, disaster struck. An adolescent Cicero was preparing to study at the forest libraries, when a tribe of ogres descended on his family’s homestead. Cicero was captured after a short time, and forced to watch as his family members were turned into food and crude puppets to entertain the degenerate giants. Managing to escape when the giants turned to squabbling, Cicero grabbed his family bow and fled.

Distraught and terrified, Cicero ran. He ran far and wide, fleeing until he could not recognize anything. The thought of returning to the scattered Elves, to live without his family, was abhorrent to him. His grief, nearly driving him mad, forced him to keep walking, keep moving, so that the ghosts that haunt him cannot catch up.

Cicero has a deep well of anger within him. He contains it as best he can. He cannot stomach the idea of returning to Celwynvian. But he has come to terms with his past. He believes now that the best way to honor is family is to build a legacy for them, enough that their stories will resonate throughout history. It is what he knows. And though his anger and grief cause him to occasionally live too loosely, he is attempting to better himself.

Cicero Ton-Thalas

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