Jack Jones aka Moonflower

Bardic Trained Conwoman Traveling in drag.


Name:MoonFlower, but it’s a secret.

Race: Elfaroon (One 8th elf, but that makes her HALF doesn’t it you species-est bastards?)

Age: 21

Sex: Drag King

Physical Appearance

Height: 5’4"

Weight: 185

Hair: Short, brown and straw like, straight.

Eye color: Depends on which wanted poster you’re reading. What? Not my issue if people aren’t observant! (But really, light grey-green)

Skin: Pink cheeked, tan skin healthy ruddy human glow.

Facial Features: Roundish, good looking in a middle of the road unmemorable way.

Other Physical Traits: Absolutely dazzling smile and good teeth.

Handedness: Right handed. No, ignore the left hand. Everyone knows the third card comes from the middle of the deck for luck.

Voice: Mellow, she usually pitches it a little on the low side. Can put on or off accents like hats.

Identifying Marks: NONE and she works DAMN HARD AT IT.

Usual Clothing: Really good boots. Not magical, unless you count water proof and blister proof as magic. She does, says it’s the best kind of magic, thank you. The type that works every damn day. Chain mail, padded at the chest and belly to hide her (limited) curves and make her look pudgier than she is. Okay, it makes her legs look a little scrawny but that’s okay too.

Living Situation: On the run road traveling as all Bards do, right?



Fighting Style: Stand far away from the actual fight and curse the enemy to death.

Preferred Weapons: Barbed tongue. Or blackjack. Generally tongue.

Magic: Bard. BAARRDD. Sing, hums, whistles and cusses until her opponent’s give up and and die already so she can have their things.

Strengths: Ranged fighting. Lies like a dog and sells people the fleas. Bluffs with nothing in her hand and still wins.

Weaknesses: People with good self esteem (aka will throws. How DARE their mothers love them?). NO OTHER WEAKNESSES… That you need to know about. Ignore her noodle arms!


General Personality Traits: Friendly, sharp tongued, and has a business proposition in mind.

Quirks: Dresses as a man. Vanishes for no reason for hours/days/whateveringametime on end.

Sexual Orientation: Not picky. Left hand, right hand, blunt dagger hilt. She’s easy. What? Not like she can trust other PEOPLE.


Flaws: NONE.

Religion: Follower of <insertgodnamehere>, god of luck. She NEVER prays to him on the the basis that since he’s in every chance she takes anyway, too much begging will get her cut off the luck-flow.

Philosophy: I am only out for myself, they should know better than to trust me. Also, the poor have nothing worth stealing, and the stupid are no fun to outwit, and the weak are too easy to overpower.

Likes and Loves: Anything someone else worked really, really hard for.

Dislikes and Hates: Hard labor, bad singing, and ELVES.

Fears: Being raped again.

Dream: To not ever wake up on a sunny hillside with no recollection of how she got there.


Family: A father who’s a bit mentally cracked.

Friends: Ha, hahah, hahahahAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH- wait, you’re serious?

Lovers: Lefty, Righty, and that dagger we talked about. When you hand out fake names like copper coins, what can you expect?

Hero: Heroes are for suckers. She has a favorite Poet, though. And Orcish poet who’s name translates into something.. Deeply phallic for a female writer by all but orc standards.

She’s only read the translations but the works are deeply moving.
(a few of her favorites are)

“The moon light is more beautiful when reflected in the eyes of my vanquished foes” “I could not love a man with such a small club” “I broke his heart and then his spine.”

Enemies: MOONFLOWER has almost no enemies. Jack Jones has a man very pissed off about the horse that was apparently drugged to the gills to hide the fact it was lame in one leg, Bill Door personally wrote more than a hundred checks (ninety of which were cashed) in the Greater City of Shinal, Palo Vertvert is wanted for accepting slaves on behalf of the Empire of The BloodyGreat Rocks, or whatever, and then turning them free in the nearest town.

There’s a list of enemies, in short.

Personal History:

My name is Moonflower Starcatcher Elizabeth Marie Kipperling the second, and this is my journal

Moonflower (Moo for short) learned music on her father’s knee.

Her mother, (Rainfall Kipperling, maiden name Rainfall McGrue) was one quarter elf, mother one half, and grandfather… Well, Full but no one knows who he is. She learned elvish from her mother, and speaks it with accent that implies that it is not the dialect used by most wood elves.

I don’t no why I am the second, because Mr. Smithy the smithy say that one Moonflower Starchild Elizabeth Marie KIpperling is enough for any plane. I do not know what he meant by that.

_Tomorrow he is going to show me how to fix things since he say I break so many things that fixing them would be good for me and also it would be a good birthday present because I am going to be six years old. _

Six in dwarf is ‘Unth’.

Moo’s mother died when she was ten.

Her father retreated farther into the task of crafting the ‘perfect ballad’.

And she found religion. Or rather, it found her.

_Dear diary, _

Today I met a bard who my father DIDN’T know. He was also a priest, or so he said.

He told me about < insert god name here> and told me that fortune favors the bold and the clever, but that only fools relied on the gods.

_That didn’t make any sense, but when I asked pa about it, he didn’t want to explain. _

Then the nice man taught me about the ‘house advantage’.

Being the towns sole follower of a God whose one commandment seemed to be ‘if you don’t let it ride, why the hell are you playing?’ meant being the towns sole mathematician.

Sausage didn’t requite much math, you see. Handfuls, that was the thing, kept the ratio’s right enough.

Math, real math, math like, four to one odds math, and what that could turn a dollar into if you knew, for example, that the three legged dog ALWAYS chased rabbits instead of birds….

Dear diary, today Mr. Block the butcher let me make money by helping with sausage.

_People will eat everything but the oink, he says. As long as you chop it up small, make sure it sizzles and have mustard around. _


Today I turned twelve. I asked pa if his ballad just needed mustard.

At thirteen, she learned to imitate dialects.

_Dear diary. _

_T’day more of the ‘filthy foreign buggers’ came into Mr. Smith’s forge. We are getting more of them now than before. You knew they were foreign cause they like the ‘Rrrr’ sound so much they used it in lot’s of words, but they seemed clean enough and weren’t really being bugger’s like TOmmy Winkin’s who cut off my ponytail with sheep sheers. _

I tried to roll my Rrrr’s too, and they thought it was funny.Then they were sorta like buggers, because they talked to me like I was a simple girl when I’m almost fourteen but they laughed when I told them that. By the time they left I could roll my rrr’s really good.

_Besides, they played dice with me and I taught them about house advantage by taking the tall one’s earring since i wouldn’t take kisses for a bet cause he was a boy and they have cooties.

And put them to use.

_Dear Diary. _

Today I was manning the store front while Mr. Chop went and slaughtered pigs and some more of the ’rrrrr’s’ came in, so I rolled mine too and did the other little things that the first group had done and THIS group said they were happy to see one of their little sister’s out here doing well and we had a nice talk.

People trust you more if they think you’re more like them.

_I want to learn more accents. _

And when she was fourteen, due to cash flow issues her father rented out a room to a man Moo called Mr. Drake because he looked like a duck to her and waddled a little.

_… and he makes weird noises and wears a long, old robe and I think he’s a wizard and he has a pet… Ugly monkey thing that follows him on a leash or stays locked in his room except I didn’t think monkeys could talk like this one. _

It has a heavy accent and only speaks a few words. I asked Pa about it but he did not want to talk to me just then because Mr. Drake was telling Pa a story and Pa always likes stories so I went into the kitchen and the Ugly Monkey was fixing tea but it dropped a tea cup when I asked if I could help and then Mr. Drake yelled at it so I told him I had dropped it and it was our cups anyway and he shouldn’t yell at monkey’s and he laughed so hard he almost missed when he kicked the monkey.

He told me the monkeys name was Kguuthu.

Later Kguuthu told me her name was K’kguu, and that the ‘thu’ just meant ‘mrs’. And that she wasn’t a monkey.

K’kguu’s going to teach me her language! It’s much more grunty and phlemy than elf, but faster than dwarf.

She stopped writing in her diary around the age of fifteen. Last entry-

Dear diary,

Today is a full moon, it rose before sunset so they were both in the sky at the same time. Since they say there’s a man in the moon, and a woman in the sun, it must be a dance.

Tomorrow my Pa and I are going into the city, Mr. Drake is coming with us, he needs supplies.

I think a big city will be fun, but it must be strange not to know everyone.

On the way there, they were attacked by bandits.

Mr. Drake knocked her father out and traded Moo to the bandits for his own safe passage.

She cussed one of them to near death before they gagged her, amused themselves with her for a bit and threw her in a ditch near her father.

He was never the same after that, and she ran away once she could walk properly.

Jack Jones aka Moonflower

The Edge of Empire Messypeaches