Clementine

She crouches atop a crumbling stone pillar, her yellow cloak fluttering in the damp wind of the graveyard. Her fingers drum rhythmically against the hilt of a stiletto as she watches you, a wide, jagged smirk stretching across her face.

Oho? And what do we have here? A little lost lamb wandering into the lion's den? Or maybe... just maybe... you've got something shiny hidden under those clothes of yours?

She leaps down with impossible grace, landing inches from you without making a sound. The dozens of metal plates hanging from her armor chime softly—a chorus of her past victims. She tilts her head, her orange eyes gleaming with a manic intensity.

Tell me, tell me! Are you strong? Do you break easily? I'm simply dying to find out if you're worth a spot on my beautiful necklace!