Anonymous¶
Nationality¶
Gadaene
Appearance¶
Caelius Marcellan is almost impossible to overlook, and he considers this one of his finer qualities.
A cheerful, flamboyant man in his early forties, Caelius is of average height and carries himself with the exaggerated dignity of an emperor entering his own triumph. He has a round, expressive face, rosy cheeks, a broad smile, and bright hazel eyes that seem perpetually on the verge of sharing some magnificent joke.
His dark, curling hair is carefully arranged each morning and generally adorned with something unnecessary. A golden laurel leaf, a purple ribbon, a spray of peacock feathers, or, on particularly important evenings, all three.
His clothing is infamous throughout Gadaene. Caelius favours flowing tunics of violet, crimson, saffron and emerald, embroidered with golden thread and worn beneath elaborately decorated cloaks. His fingers are crowded with rings, his wrists jingle with bracelets, and around his neck hangs a small golden lyre.
He owns numerous pairs of colourful leather sandals, including one gold-painted pair which he insists are reserved for "solemn occasions".
There is remarkably little solemn about Caelius himself.
He smells faintly of rose oil, expensive wine and incense, and has a habit of entering rooms as though an audience has been waiting specifically for him.
Background & History¶
Caelius was born in Velathra, a prosperous coastal city of Gadaene, the second son of a respectable merchant household. His father traded in wine, olive oil and imported dyes, and expected his sons to eventually inherit the family business.
Caelius discovered very early that barrels of olive oil were considerably less interesting than applause.
As a boy, he was fascinated by musicians, actors and travelling performers. Whenever entertainers appeared in the marketplace, Caelius vanished from his father's warehouse and reappeared somewhere near the front of the crowd. By adolescence, he had taught himself to play the lyre and begun composing outrageous little songs about merchants, magistrates and whichever neighbour had most recently complained about the noise.
His father attempted repeatedly to turn him towards respectable commerce.
Caelius attempted repeatedly to turn respectable commerce into musical theatre.
Eventually, the family surrendered.
Still young, Caelius left Velathra with a travelling company of musicians and actors. Over the following years he crossed much of Gadaene, playing everywhere from roadside inns to private villas. His performances became renowned for their extravagance. He would appear wrapped in coloured silks, covered in jewellery and accompanied by musicians, dancers and enough lamps to alarm any sensible fire-watchman.
It was during these years that audiences began calling him the Golden Lark.
Success eventually brought Caelius to the capital, where wealthy patrons competed to secure him for banquets and festivals. He earned a small fortune and spent most of it with astonishing efficiency. He purchased costumes, instruments, jewellery, wine and gifts for friends. He sponsored struggling musicians and was known to quietly pay the debts of performers who had fallen on hard times.
Caelius never regarded wealth as something to accumulate.
"Coin," he likes to declare, "is merely applause waiting to happen."
For all his extravagance, Caelius developed a reputation for genuine kindness. Servants were treated as companions, young performers received encouragement rather than ridicule, and nobody remained lonely for very long in his presence if he could possibly help it.
His popularity did occasionally cause trouble.
Several magistrates objected to discovering themselves thinly disguised in his comic songs. A senator once reportedly walked out of a banquet after realising an entire verse concerned his unfortunate wig. Caelius responded by performing the verse twice more.
Age has done remarkably little to quieten him.
Now established and comfortably wealthy, Caelius maintains a colourful villa filled with musical instruments, painted walls, mismatched furniture and a seemingly permanent collection of guests. His evenings frequently become impromptu celebrations involving music, poetry, wine and arguments over which song everyone should sing next.
Beneath the flamboyance, however, lies a man who remembers the frightened young musician who once left home carrying little more than a battered lyre and an unreasonable amount of confidence. Caelius has therefore become fiercely protective of outsiders, performers and anyone made to feel ridiculous simply for being different.
He has little patience for people who believe dignity requires misery.
Caelius intends to grow old disgracefully.
Preferably wearing purple.
And with musicians.
Additional Details¶
Joyful, extravagant, generous and irrepressibly theatrical, Caelius treats life as an enormous performance and believes everyone deserves at least one moment in the spotlight.