Florence

Biographical information

Birthplace Elbion Born Died Age Unknown Home None Sexuality Pronouns

Physical description

Race Human Sub-Race Unknown Gender Female Height Mass Hair color Blonde Eye color Hazel Skin color Fair

Political information

Affiliation(s) Unknown Occupation Mercenary Clan(s) Caste Domain Hunting Masters Apprentices Alias(es)

Out-of-character information

Writer Frosty Created on 23rd November 2018 Avatar Meve, from Witcher: Thronebreaker

Worn hazel eyes that more often than not seem to try and stare right through you and a coarse and roughed up skin from a long career of bruises and cuts. While most of the features spread across Florence’s face would have made any noble jealous once upon a time those days have long since passed. Through their training they picked up a scar across their temple, and from their later occupation as a mercenary they simply picked up more and more of them as they went along.

That is not to say they can’t clean up, but in all honesty they’d most likely shun the very idea of having to dress up to do anything for anyone again. The greatest variation of their outfit seems to be the tunic that they allow themselves to wear to balance out the drabness and colorless nature of their pants and boots. Depending on their current set of armor though, they might even be missing that.

Simply put they see themselves as little more than a tool, and a tool rarely need dressing up.

Florence taught themselves how to use a blade as well as how to wear armor many years ago from a friend in passing. With pity taken upon her discarded form at the side of the road the man taught a young girl how to defend herself from the world when no one else would be there for her. Though it was a quite temporary arrangement, the lessons imprinted upon her mind was one that forever changed her. From that day onwards she trained as needed training, hunted as needed hunting, and when the time came — killed as needed killing.

In the end many of the skills she possesses are hardly skills of her own as much as the skills of those who live through her. From one stranger to the next it seems as if Florence simply soaks up a small part of what they leave behind. Because in the end, that is her true ability in this state of limbo that she exists in. Florence’s body was stripped of having just the one soul and now acts as host to not one but several spirits that utilize her as their tool for rightful and justified vengeance, or in some cases to simply get the closure that they need to pass on.

This ability has put a strain upon her. For each spirit that passes through her she is left with a small part of their own personality imprinted upon her own. A warlord may part with his seething hatred while a former nobleman may imprint a sense of pride and accomplishment. In the end the kind of spirit she picks up depends on where in the world she is. In battlefields she picks up the fallen, and in the open plains she may pick up a fallen farmer, and while the decision whether or not to let them into her being is her own decision she gets weaker and weaker for each person she says no to as if a greater entity has kept her alive for this purpose, and this purpose alone.

In terms of magic she is no real practitioner. The skills that was left on her mind from a dead wizard has shown her how to do little more than party tricks to entertain a crowd.

Unstable to say the least. While Florence is a person who act with great respect for anyone they come across, they are still not alone with who they are anymore. One day they could be as open as they get, and the next they shut everyone out. A life on the road and on a constant move has left them with little in the way of friends, yet given how crowded it sometimes get within them perhaps that is for the best. It would be hard to explain to others that you are a host for a magnitude of spirits after all.

Trust them, they have tried many times and scared just as many people off.