[hider=Jesma Corr (may still be edited)]
Name: Jesma Corr
Continent of Birth: Carthus
Race: (mostly) Human
Class: Grenadier

Starter Equipment:
-5 vials of power that produce various outcomes upon release
-1 large single-shotpistol nearly the length of her forearm
-A black journal filled with sketched blueprints and notes
-Tin of gunpowder
-Leather/cloth clothing suited to traveling
-Gold watch

Age: 23
Personality: Erratic at the best of times; it is rare for Jesma to know where her mind goes herself, but she is always focused on achieving something. Idleness is not habit she possesses any more than patience as a virtue. She was never taught proper etiquette, especially not that of polite society, and as such most social queues are mostly lost on her. This paired with her all-too-quick temper, and general appearance give enough reason for people to avoid her. 

Strengths:
-Demolitionist/engineer
-Educated (Math and sciences)
-Small/agile (4’10)

Weaknesses:
-Weak
-2 missing fingers on right hand
-Impulsive
-Pigheadedly-stubborn/socially inept

Fears: 
-Magic
-Dark/High Elves

Brief History: Jesma was born to a Dwarf/human halfling father and human mother, the latter of which died 8 months after her birth. Her father; Kolm Corr was a craftsman, who build and sold his wares on both sides of the border of their home in DawnTown. He was an irregular father, with a still more irregular daughter though how much of that was his own doing became indiscernible as she grew. She followed him everywhere he went, and unless recently reprimanded, tamped with all that was in her short reach. Kolm, as distracted of a man as his daughter was destined to be, saw it only fit to teach her the basics of his craft if for safety more than anything else. By the age of 13; armed with a small set of tools acquired from both honest and dubious means, she began her own tinkering; mostly small traps barely mimicking the great machines her father constructed, to the dismay of the various pet cats she had over the years.

As time wore on, and Kolm began to lose eyesight and develop a tremble in his hands, he came to depend on his daughter. Following his dictation in construction Jasma learned true skill and gained access to the most prized substance in that small craftsman’s world; the supply of gunpowder. She discovered a design for a pistol in her father’s journal and set about it in her meager free time, it was a clumsy mess and it’s first shot cost two of her right hand fingers and earned a scolding she was much too old to receive, but was entirely worth it.
Shorty after Jasma’s 23rd year, whatever had been ailing her father for near a decade killed him leaving her entirely alone. His contacts, who had traded with her in his name for so many years began to look elsewhere for goods. It wasn’t long before she had to give up her home, and eventually after stripping it of as much as she could; her father’s workshop. She found herself writing to impossibly distant relatives she could barely pronounce the names of and eventually managed to find an apprenticeship in Smyrna on the distant continent of Penault. With no other option, she packed her remaining belongings for Port Town to find a ship willing to take her. No sooner did she find one and spend nearly all her remaining funds booking passage, then she found herself in the miner’s prison.

[/hider]