Baldur's Gate : The Sword Coast Chronicles : NWN2 Persistent World

Florena




Age: 22
Race: Tiefling, infernal bloodline.
Place of origin: Unknown, later in the Ardeep Forest (Faraway Forest)
Advancement: Ranger
Profession: Hunter
Religion: Ranger of Silvanus

Description: A tall tiefling woman with red scaly skin and yellow catlike eyes, she has a strong build due to living on the wilderness for a long time.

Personality: A curious person , Florena has experienced a lot of rejection due to her appearance and heritage which has made her withdrawn from society. She's a down to earth person who dislikes to beat about the bush.

She's a woman of few words and is rarely interested in the problems that concern civilisation or society and finds herself more at home in the wild or in caverns.

She engages in battle, using any distance advantage or stealth to then finish off enemies in melee. She always tries to never take a losing fight.

The places where I grew up aren't easy to be at, dark places where the sun never reached, I had to do many things that I hated to survive, were I given a chance, I would've done differently.

I don't blame my parents for abandoning me, I can imagine it was painful for them, I think they were sad and disappointed when they saw me, realized that somewhere, in our family, someone made a big mistake and I was living proof of it. They probably had many plans for me, many dreams that all were destroyed when they realized that they gave birth to someone like me.

Waterdeep isn't exactly a harsh city, but soon I understood that it was no place for me. I was brought down below thanks to making friends in the wrong places. But that didn't last very long, I learned to live in caverns, without the light and trees.



I was able to survive because I could kill, got a few jobs, but nothing too important, and that's how I always liked it, never being too important.

Coming here down to the south...Again, to see what I can find here, maybe I will leave again or maybe not, I've found a few things that seem to be worth my time, but I can't know for sure yet... Perhaps a place to call home?

I don't know.

It was a quiet night on Baldur's Gate, a female tiefling with a bandage over her head sat by the fire, head full of thoughts.


After arriving to this area, I am started to notice patterns, within cities especially, the way things operate and work and what gets the show running.
Everyone is looking for their place in the world , the most obvious path is what you have at your disposal, the farmer has land, the guard a place to protect and a ruler subjects to rule.
Just like in nature where everything and everyone has a place, civilization always finds a way to contradict it. I look around and see many people moving their feet and apparently getting somewhere but instead it happens that walking in circles won't let you find new places. I see flags and banners being waved into the air for many causes, but it all ends in the same place, there's nothing to it that would tell me that is worth it to live for someone else.

To live for someone else's cause.
Such a waste of life, time, and energy. But there's also Choice, the freedom of choice to serve, now that's different, a sacrifice that only the strongest souls undertake, perhaps I hold a hidden admiration for those who are able to choose a path of freedom and happiness for themselves and instead pick the eternal thankless sacrifice of duty, two sides of the same coin I've seen, the experienced and wise; and then the young and fanatical.

One of them has lived for a long time, fought countless battles, and done so many sacrifices, on the other side someone who memorized word by word, but there's a wisdom that comes with time, the wisdom of ages that cannot be replaced. And from that wisdom comes questions, questions of why and how then questions of rules and rulers.

Then perhaps there's much that I fail to understand because I am not wearing the same boots as the librarian, the knight, and the squire.

It doesn't even matter if I understand or not, because I don't need to, their fates are their own, tied somewhere while mine's elsewhere, that eternal elsewhere, that place I am always going towards but never reach, because then there I would be left without purpose.

Sometimes I wish I had been born with a beard instead of horns, I see the dwarves, how close they are to each other, their friendship solid as the stone their halls are made of and prowess in battle that's just unrivaled, then I would have a family, I wouldn't need to travel so much and just settle down, but then, would I get bored? Would I long for the fresh air of the meadows and forests, the thrill of the hunt? Who knows, maybe one day I will know how it feels.

I saw the holy woman at the forest today, she doesn't look like much, no jewelry, but she had a lot of knights guarding her. Maybe paladins.

When they saw me I froze in fear, was stupid to run away, they will think that I was trying to hurt them. It doesn't matter really, they're city people, they don't care for me and I don't care for them.

I will visit her at her temple tomorrow. Maybe she can answer me some questions, maybe she can help. Maybe.

It was certainly unexpected, felt like jumping into a cold lake after a long heated sprint, though curiosity may be getting the best of me... Again necromantic magics have befallen me and cursed my existence, taking me one step closer to the grave, just after the news, things have to be complicated all the time, this is nature I suppose, intricate.

Now I am hiding these wounds, I will need a day of rest after all that, exhausted, though I met more of the forest dwellers, this gives faith and hope.

It doesn't bother me to lick my wounds, but the blood always attracts the predators, so better lay low.

It is good to see the forest with others who aren't in search of blood.

It seems like the woods where I live have been forgotten and abandoned, which is fitting. I am really not expecting anything from anyone else, though it's a good idea to keep the path open, I am not holding out for anyone else, after all it seems like the others would do the same.

I don't know exactly what or why is happening what's happening at the Cloakwood, but I would not want to see the same happen elsewhere, it's sad and it represents a big failure for my faith, even if I wasn't there for it.

I don't see many people here often, sometimes druids, sometimes hunters or adventurers. I don't want to see soldiers here, or more orcs, I scout along and see just gnolls, which isn't good, but not worse.









I am not impressed with the way things are done around here, it seems that many are looking for fame and renown, to what cost I have seen , dignity for one.

I am not confrontative so I just let them be, though sometimes I have to make decisions and face things that need to be faced, I would rather do this than clench my fists and complain.

I am not disappointed because I wasn't expecting anything but the world has a very ironic and sometimes sadistic sense of humor.

Again and again I am proven that the folk who live in small towns like the green one south of here are smarter than those from the big cities, but what's new.




Abandoned and forgotten just like the forest, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

On the small hill above the road sat a lone tiefling with green skin by a statue of a bearded man. Symbols of big Oak leaves by the sides.
Some white bandages covered her right arm, she looked up at the statue and she started writing a letter for her adoptive mother and father, two people that she rarely considered due to a certain tendency to escape from emotions, and quickly a hand covered two cat like eyes from the same of showing feelings, a moment of weakness that she would only allow herself to be felt under the shadow of Sylvanus and no one else.


In war, one can see the true meaning of the word courage.

It's in battle where I have learned about the people that I would really trust and know that they got my back, fighting against the same enemy, communication, tactics...Each one doing their part a team, bound by courage...

Courageous people...It's not simply a virtue but rather the collection of several ones. Having courage means standing up for something in the face of danger and sometimes death, an inspiration of battle and bravery beyond what's normally seen from mortals.

"You mistake my courage for lack of neutrality."

Sometimes it's necessary to fight, to keep balance, to keep...Neutrality.
We all have our own ideas and opinions of what something is.

A rose with thorns.

She then took a wooden pencil and a parchment and started writing.