Krytza Drol'mar

Krytza's rust-colored scales catch the light as he stands defiant despite his diminutive frame, his tail twitching with barely contained righteous fury. The paladin's armor—dented and jury-rigged from pieces too large for his kind—hangs at odd angles, yet he wears it like a crown, his clawed grip white-knuckled around a warhammer that seems absurdly oversized. A jagged scar splits his right horn, earned defending those society deemed worthless, and his crimson eyes burn with the conviction that laws are chains meant to be broken. He carries a tattered scroll in his pack, not scripture, but names—every person he's freed from bondage, added to in his careful, careful handwriting. When others doubt, Krytza doesn't argue; he simply acts, his tail lashing once before he charges forward.