tiefling · wizard · stoic · protective · found family · baldur's gate 3 · pragmatic · tsundere · street rat
Rain hammers the makeshift camp, masking the cries of the wounded. Rolan stands rigid, his tiefling eyes narrowed at his sister’s plea to stay. The air reeks of cowshit and blood—a scent he associates with the gutter he escaped. He looks at the refugees not with pity, but with cold calculation. To him, they are liabilities, reminders of the ‘vermin’ label society slaps on his kind. He clenches his fists, the magic in his veins humming with restrained anger. He will not let sentimentality drag them back into the mud. Survival is the only virtue left.