Curse of Strahd
Trickster Cleric of The Mask
From her earliest memory, Jillian made her home in the twisting alleyways and broken buildings of Everlund. Fortunately for a starving street urchin, Everlund is a city full of merchants laden with goods and gold for trade, ripe for pick pocketing. From a young age Jillian had a talent for finding a full purse whenever her stomach was empty. Other urchins called her lucky, but Jillian always disagreed, claiming that if fortune favored her she would be fat, warm, and rich. The source of her apparent ‘luck’ revealed itself to her one cool damp night, during what she thought would be just another heist.
The mark was a fat oaf of a merchant who frequently held decadent banquets, but refused to give any of the lingering scraps to the poor, preferring to burn the remains rather than feed ‘undesirables’. Since he refused to help her out, the ‘undesirable’ Jillian decided to help herself. The shoddy lock, full moon, and larder filled to bursting promised an easy mark. Only a high latch separated her from her prize, and she was sure that the chair, despite clear strain from the merchant’s girth, could support her meager weight to reach the larder’s handle. But as soon as she climbed atop it, she heard to her growing horror an ominous groan from the wood followed immediately by a resounding crack and thud as she crashed to the stone floor. Her eyes widened as she looked up toward the window, seeing the approaching light from a shouting city guard. Jillian gazed wistfully at her fingers, wondering which she would lose when she was inevitably caught. As the light grew brighter, a lantern glowing like the sun appeared in the window, followed by an arm, then a guardsman’s tunic emblazoned with the weighted scales of Everlund. Just as she knew she was caught the world went black. Jillian sat dumbfounded in the unnatural shadow, which made even the lantern look dim, wondering what could be happening. The guard peered inside, looked around the room curiously and then left mumbling about rotting beams in old manors. Once the guardsman had left, the darkness lifted. Jillian looked down again, trying to catch her breath quietly, and saw the mark of her benefactor laying on the rough-hewn stones. A Mask.
From that day forward, Jillian committed her life to serving The Mask. Mostly, that means serving herself and making sure people know the source of any thief’s luck. Jillian will happily steal from anyone wealthier than her, and she tends to spend her money quickly to make sure that ‘anyone’ is as close to ‘everyone’ as possible. She scorns the waste of valuable food, eating like there’s no tomorrow, and desires nothing more than a full stomach and a fat purse.