Dairine The Wolfmaiden

Appearance
Dairine Is a smaller woman, standing at just under five and a half feet. Her dusky brown skin is decorated with many sworls and turns of tribal markings, some painted on, though the one on her forehead, some tribe’s slave mark, is clearly tattooed into her flesh. 
Though, most of that is hidden under her long cloak. A bolt of fabric, with a hood, the outer side of it decorated in a deep, shimmering green, the edges embroidered with line of cream with black zig-zags along it. Inside of the cloak is a deep, beautiful crimson, the cloak easily being flipped back or forth as she needs. Below the cloaks hem are bare feet, an anklet of shiny silver wrapped around her right ankle, her legs from mid-calf down the only part of her visible aside from her face while she still has her cloak on. 
Personality
She’s a soft hearted sort, with a special sore spot for those who have experienced slavery like she has. Her training with the church has instilled her with a good deal of discipline, but when not expecting danger, she’s quite relaxed and welcoming. 
Backstory
Dairine’s rise to adventuring was a rough one. It all started when she was but 10 years old, her father an earl for of Andaran. In pursuit of a criminal of his realm, he followed them to Katapash, and, unfortunately for his family, never made it home. Her mother was inconsolable, throwing away the money her father had left for them on drink and gambling, until she far too easily decided to sell her own daughter… her flesh and blood, into slavery to pay off her debts. 
Over the course of the next few years, she was passed from owner to owner, eventually ending up captured by a tribe of gnolls on a caravan between towns. Thankfully, they saw her not as food, and set her to work making cloth and clothes for the tribes people. Thankfully, she wasn’t left to live with them for long, a raid on the camp by a group of human warriors brought her her freedom, though she still keeps the mark of her time as a slave branded upon her face, and her religious rites still follow the path she learned on her trouble. 
She set out, travelling the lands, winding homeward. She still hasn’t made it, having been taken in, near starved, by the church of Veiloaria. There, she sought the training to protect herself, earning herself the rank of paladin, despite her clear leanings towards divine magic, over combat. To cover for her deficit in physical combat, she worked to raise herself a combat partner, a young wolf-hound named Freki. Through years of training, they came to be quite the formidable duo, and, having finished their training, set out on their first tasks as paladin, a task that took them to the city of Absalom, her quest to get home forgotten for this new, higher purpose…. At least for the time being...