This character came to me in a dream. He's based upon what I remember from it.

He has two hoofclaw-like toes on each foot, and a small pair of dewclaws on the heel. Much like a cow or goat, these hooves need regular trimming to remain in good shape.

He has an uneven number of teeth on the bottom jaw. His sharp teeth zipper together, and there is a single tooth on the bottom front that fits between the front two on the top.

Giacomo's voice is medium-high in tone, with just the barest bit of rasp. It has a soft, almost nervous quality - at least, when he's not performing. There's some amount of pitch variation when he emotes - it can be very high when excited, and a touch low when he's sullen. It has a 'youthful maturity' to it. His vocal range is best described as high tenor to countertenor, and has some real potential - with training, he'd likely be an impressive singer. A good vocal reference is Tom Hulce's performance as Mozart in Amadeus, particularly in this scene - and, to a lesser extent, Howard McGillin's Prince Derek from The Swan Princess.

He first learned to juggle (both contact and toss-juggling) with apples and oranges.

Given access to the music of Earth, Felicci would like broadway showtunes, synthy glam rock such as David Bowie, as well as more experimental artists like om Waits ("All The World is Green" would be a favorite of his). He would have a penchant for songs with a theatrical, waltzy, "circus"-like vibe.

The tarot card that best represents him is The Hanged Man.

When their child was born with such obvious fiendish heritage, there was no question in his parents' minds: he had to go.

It's all too common a tale for tiefling children, and some unluckier still are simply abandoned to the wilderness, their fates to be decided by the gods' will alone. His parents weren't quite this cruel, however, and left him at the doorstep of an orphanage just a few days after his birth. He has no real memories of this place, as his earliest were of the various foster homes he was tossed between like a hot potato. His earliest foster, whom he has very little memory of, was the one who named him Giacomo - a kindly lady who, due to unforseen circumstances, had to drop out of the foster system. Her care was, unfortunately, the last bit of luck he'd have for quite some time.

By the age of 7, he had bounced between several homes and seen an unfortunate amount of mistreatment, both due to his infernal ancestry and due simply to the fact that he was there to exploit, as was the case for many other children he knew. He came to realize that, if he did not escape this cycle, it may well be the end of him, and made the difficult choice to slip off in the night and make his way on his own.

The streets of Waterdeep are not the kindest, and especially not to a tiefling child. Yet, the impersonal nature of the hardships there were somehow preferable, and he managed to eke out a survival for himself. He often had to steal his daily bread, and rarely had anything resembling a roof over his head. However, in time, he found he could improve his conditions by making those around him smile - someone charmed by a bit of a show was more likely to toss a copper his direction. He taught himself to juggle with fruits nicked from market stalls, learned to nimbly hop and balance and cartwheel on crates and poles and rooftops, and began to master the art of feigned clumsiness - seeing someone trip over themselves always got a laugh, and like anything, laughter had its own worth in coin. As he began to have some renown for his frivolity, he took on the moniker Felicci, using it as a surname and formally titling his desire to instill cheerfulness in the lives of others and in his own.

These antics paid off in more than he ever could have bargained for one day when, at the age of thirteen, a contact juggling and acrobatics routine across the canopies of several market stalls caught the eye and the fancy of a member of the Waterdhavian nobility: one Lord Sturlan Rookspire, a rotund and jovial fellow who was so charmed by the display that he offered the young performer a proper job.

Thus it was that Giacomo Felicci, homeless street performer would become Felicci the Fool, court jester for a wealthy nobleman.

It was nothing less than a dream come true. He had a finer bed and home than he ever could have thought up in his wildest dreams. He was fed on the finest food and drink he'd ever tasted. He was trained by the finest teachers in the bardic arts, honing his craft with great precision and care.

Perhaps most importantly, though, he found a family in the other court performers - each of them a little eccentric in some way or another. He got on quite well with all of them - at least, in his opinion, he did; even among those he was occasionally at odds with, however, he never had any enemies, and he felt a fierce loyalty to them all. For the first time in his life, he didn't feel alone.

He found a particular closeness with one Evelyn Cartwright - "Lovely Linnie" when she performed. She was spirited and playful in a way that one might mistake her for a fairy - and she was: her mother had been a pixie. She was affectionate and exhuberant and her attention was warmly welcomed, and wound up trusting her implicitly. Due to their complimentary color palettes - She was pink all over, and he blue - they were often paired in duet performances. She was his confidante, his favorite coworker, and his very best friend.

Felicci thoroughly enjoyed his duties as court jester. Making people laugh was very rewarding, and getting to subtly poke fun at the nobility in a way that was acceptable (and even watch them enjoy it) was satisfying. His dedication and enjoyment of the art of foolery quickly saw him become a favorite among the court perfomers, both for Lord Rookspire and his regular guests.

For the most part, he felt his life was the very picture of perfection, and for a long time felt there would never again come a time where he felt discontentment. However, his unlucky shadow crept up on him again eventually - as he grew older, he began to feel that perhaps his employer (and certainly his employer's guests) occasionally took advantage, and that all may not be in as good of humor as he once believed. Occasional comments when objecting to certain requests often left him feeling guilty, as if he owed them total obedience in exchange for rescuing him from the streets - something he still desperately feared he could be forced to return to at any moment. This disillusionment came to a head one recent night, when some unwelcome liberties were drunkenly taken by Lord Rookspire after a particularly raucous banquet.

He still feels conflicted on this event - though he feels it was ultimately a drunken mistake and an issue of miscommunication due to his indirect and unclear objections, he never truly felt that he was at liberty to object at all given his position, and feared the possibility of repercussions. Lord Rookspire didn't seem to recall the incident the following morning, so Felicci tried to forget about it altogether. However, though he holds no ill will, he never fully trusted Lord Rookspire again.

As the years went by, he found his affection for Evelyn waxing quite romantic. She likely would have said she felt the same... but it seemed her affections belonged to everyone, and thus to no one in particular. He did eventually gather the courage to ask her for a serious relationship, shortly before he left - sadly, though, his fears proved true, and she did not share his desire for exclusivity. She insisted that everyone was special to her. Perhaps that lessened the sting a bit, but knowing he was only as special to her as anyone else didn't leave him feeling very special at all.

The disillusionment with his position, the pain of broken trust, and the disappointment of heartbreak saw him enter a period of depression. He still performed dutifully, and none but his fellow performers could tell the difference, but the emptiness that had filled his childhood had managed to cast a gloom over the stage that once seemed incapable of tarnish. He felt lonelier than he had in a very long time.

One thing managed to cut through the fog, however. It seemed he had caught the eye of Lady Sefina Windsbride, an immaculately beautiful woman of very high status. Her husband, Lord Windsbride, was rumored to be one of the Masked Lords of Waterdeep, but what he had in status, he severely lacked in passion and personality. On multiple occasions, Felicci had mock-flirted with her as part of a routine - she was an easy target for this, being as lovely as she was, and Lord Windsbride seemed to take it in stride for the sake of the show. However, it seemed she had found more joy in this than she had in years of marriage, and approached him clandestinely at a masquerade ball to say as much. Her words made him feel special and wanted, and he allowed himself the luxury of a romantic fantasy. It took very little for her to convince him to slip off to bed with her, after her husband had long since fallen into a wine-steeped slumber. Truth be told, it was romantic - but even if only for a night, he felt he was the luckiest man in the world, for being chosen by a lady who could have had anyone she wanted.

It was cut much shorter than he had even imagined, however, as it was early the next morning when he was hauled from the bed by his tail at the hands of an angry Lord Windsbride. Lord Rookspire did damage control and quelled his rage for the time being, but everyone knew that he was far from safe so long as he remained in Waterdeep. It was with a heavy heart that Lord Rookspire suggested sending him away for a while, assuring a warm welcome after this had blown over in a few years' time. Everyone was saddened by the news. Felicci, of course, felt as though his worst nightmare was coming true, hardly able to trust that he'd ever be allowed back. In a few short days, he was packed up and sent along his way with many a tearful goodbye.

The night before his departure, his clandestine mistress appeared to him once again. To his surprise, the romance of the night had been a bit less fantastical than he'd realized - she tearfully apologized for her brutish husband and expressed her regret that their meeting had not been in different circumstances. She left him with the right glove of the embroidered pair she'd worn that night, soaked in the sweet jasmine perfume she always wore, stating that she would keep the left and imagine their fingers entwined whenever she slipped it on. This glove has become a dear comfort object for him, a symbol of love and desire when he'd felt at his lowest.

Thus it was that Felicci the Fool was once more set out into the world, hoping to find another place in a difficult world to call his own. Though the tides of late have brought misfortune, he holds out hope in his tender heart that a golden morning may crest the horizon, and that he may find love and happiness once more - perhaps, with a little hope and a touch of luck, someday soon.

Since his adventure began, unfortunately, it seems those dreams will have to wait. Along with several other adventurers, Felicci was captured in a raid conducted by drow slavers in the northeast of Faerun and taken to a damp cell in an Underdark settlement called Velkenvelv. Recently, through a mix of clever thinking and a lucky break (though some might think it odd to call the arrival of screeching hordes of demonic creatures "lucky"...) they've regained their equipment and made an escape, leaving a flooded cave and utter chaos behind them. They're now headed for Neverlight Grove, to return their Myconid companion Stool to his home and seek refuge until they can formulate a further plan.