This sounds great!
I have not stated her out yet, since I like to have a grasp on the character's story first.
Shryn is a Fetchling Monk/Slayer or Monk/Ranger. She “came on hard times” some years ago and has been doing everything necessary to get by since: including a deal with the Prince of Darkness himself, but she won’t talk about that. For now, survival is key.
Shryn is guilty of many of the crimes listed above, but she is caught for murder and slave taking.
I will write more backstory after I get the stats on paper. For now, here's an excerpt. :)
Shryn's midnight skin and coal black eyes drink in the moonlight, reflecting not so much as a glimmer from her position on the rooftops.
Where are you Ralik? She fingers the tip of her knife impatiently.
Five years ago, Ralik had set fire to her home to draw her father out in the dead of night. She stumbled around her yard, sleep clinging to her eyes like frost clings to branches at the onset of spring. What was happening? Why was it so warm? Her mother screamed, shocking her from her stupor.
She stood dumbly in the shallow snow. So much red… Her mother’s voice was hoarse. Was she shouting?
Strong men tossed her little brothers in the back of a wagon. Her mother’s shouting earned a sharp blow to the base of her skull. She crumpled then was thrown in with her brothers. He’s taking them. They’re coming at me.
”Run.” Her mother’s shouts finally clawed into her conscious mind. She ran.
A soft clink of chain snaps Shryn back to the present. Sloppy Ralik. A smart slaver would bind cloth around the chains… Shryn straightens ever so slightly: her body a taut bow string straining to be loosed.
A stout man with a greasy moustache stalks onto the abandoned street. After a careful sweep of the nearby alleys, he waves behind him. Four miserable forms shuffle forward bound hand and foot pushed by a shirtless brute.
Two more feet… Shryn leaped off the roof.
The big man falls, a thick quarrel sprouting from his muscle-bound neck. Shryn straightens her shadowy figure to its full height. ”Ralik.” She hissed. ”I have been waiting for…” He’s running? S#$%!
Shryn tears after the fleeing man, but quickly loses him in the jumbled, twisting maze of alleys. Cursing loudly, she makes her way back to the huddled slaves. wretched creatures…
”You all belong to me now. I will sell you quickly and cheaply as I am in a hurry. I realize your treatment will suffer as a result. Perhaps you yet have time to bargain for a better lot in this life. Asmodeus is ever willing to make deals.” Shryn smiles wickedly at the uncomfortable fidgeting. ”Come now? What have you to lose?”
”STAND FAST!” the shout rends the silence like a scythe through summer wheat.
Perfect… Shryn thinks.