Jamey
Short, messily cropped, thick brown hair
Pale grey eyes, thick black lashes
5'4", 130 lb, wiry and toned
Jamey wandered the streets stealthily, her eyes latching hungrily on each passerby and whatever they carried with them - food? coin? Even a decent pair of boots! After two months scrambling for a meager existence on the streets, she was getting tired of being careful. She had grown up in an orphanage in the slums of the city, back behind the crumbling rock walls that the upper classes hoped would keep her and her kind in their own hovels and litter-filled streets. At 18, she was evicted rather unceremoniously and expected to find her own way.
Odd jobs were sometimes available - a little barkeep time at the dingy tavern, a little toting of goods from one shop to another, but it wasnt enough to get regular food, and her clothes were literally falling apart. And right now, a young kid with some incredibly nice boots, no weapon, and a fat purse was walking by alone.
Glancing around quickly, Jamey decided to pounce - she tackled the kid to the ground and covered his mouth with one hand, pulling at his boots with the other, her body weight pinning him to the ground. Grunting as he squirmed, she had one boot off when he sunk his teeth into her palm and with a shriek she pulled back, only to be deafened by his high-pitched screams.
Before she could stand, two huge, burly guards stinking of dried sweat and dust arrived and grabbed her roughly between them. One pressed a rusted blade to her throat and the other bound her wrists behind her back. The boy was still yelling and waving his freed boot in the air, red in the face, as the guards shoved Jamey ahead of them and forced her down the long, dusty road.
They spent over an hour trudging down the road until it had taken them out of the main part of the city and past the thin gap in the walls to the slums that Jamey had slipped through only six hours before. The path trailed up to the back end of a a huge, windowless fortress of mossy stone, and here one of the guards whipped out a large keyring, unlocking a door and shoving Jamey ahead of him and into a dark, damp hallway. They moved through a series of hallways this way, past locked, solid rock doors, until finally they reached an open door. The lead guard shoved Jamey in past this door so hard that she stumbled and fell face first into the rough stone floor, scraping her chin. As she struggled to right herself and sit up, the guard laughed from the doorway. Then he pulled the door shut and Jamey heard a key turn with a loud click. In near darkness, she blinked and looked around the room.
"Gods Jame, " she muttered to herself, "itll be the death of ye now, no doubt."
Short, messily cropped, thick brown hair
Pale grey eyes, thick black lashes
5'4", 130 lb, wiry and toned
Jamey wandered the streets stealthily, her eyes latching hungrily on each passerby and whatever they carried with them - food? coin? Even a decent pair of boots! After two months scrambling for a meager existence on the streets, she was getting tired of being careful. She had grown up in an orphanage in the slums of the city, back behind the crumbling rock walls that the upper classes hoped would keep her and her kind in their own hovels and litter-filled streets. At 18, she was evicted rather unceremoniously and expected to find her own way.
Odd jobs were sometimes available - a little barkeep time at the dingy tavern, a little toting of goods from one shop to another, but it wasnt enough to get regular food, and her clothes were literally falling apart. And right now, a young kid with some incredibly nice boots, no weapon, and a fat purse was walking by alone.
Glancing around quickly, Jamey decided to pounce - she tackled the kid to the ground and covered his mouth with one hand, pulling at his boots with the other, her body weight pinning him to the ground. Grunting as he squirmed, she had one boot off when he sunk his teeth into her palm and with a shriek she pulled back, only to be deafened by his high-pitched screams.
Before she could stand, two huge, burly guards stinking of dried sweat and dust arrived and grabbed her roughly between them. One pressed a rusted blade to her throat and the other bound her wrists behind her back. The boy was still yelling and waving his freed boot in the air, red in the face, as the guards shoved Jamey ahead of them and forced her down the long, dusty road.
They spent over an hour trudging down the road until it had taken them out of the main part of the city and past the thin gap in the walls to the slums that Jamey had slipped through only six hours before. The path trailed up to the back end of a a huge, windowless fortress of mossy stone, and here one of the guards whipped out a large keyring, unlocking a door and shoving Jamey ahead of him and into a dark, damp hallway. They moved through a series of hallways this way, past locked, solid rock doors, until finally they reached an open door. The lead guard shoved Jamey in past this door so hard that she stumbled and fell face first into the rough stone floor, scraping her chin. As she struggled to right herself and sit up, the guard laughed from the doorway. Then he pulled the door shut and Jamey heard a key turn with a loud click. In near darkness, she blinked and looked around the room.
"Gods Jame, " she muttered to herself, "itll be the death of ye now, no doubt."
