Hehe, just teasing, man.

I just noticed out of the corner of my eye you still had some 3.5e stuff in there, like ranks in Concentration and so on.
Party peacekeeper is a vital role. Glad someone's herding the cats!
Here's what I got so far.
Shayuri
Neutral Good Hooman Draconic (Silver) Sorceror 1
[sblock=Description]Shayuri is an exotic beauty, with smooth mocha skin and sleek black hair she wears long. When loose it reaches to the small of her back, though she often gathers it into a tail or bun. Her most distinctive feature though are her eyes, which which gleam with a silver hue that just as many find unsettling as appealing.[/sblock]
Str 10
Dex 14 5
Con 14 5
Int 10
Wis 10
Cha 18 10
BAB 0
AC 12
Fort +2
Ref +2
Will +2
Init +2
Spd 30
Race
Human subtype
+2 Cha
Bonus feat
Bonus skill point
Favored: Sorceror
1 - +1 skill point
Class
Sorceror
Cantrips
Eschew Materials
Bloodline - Draconic (silver)
- Skill: Perception
- Arcana: +1 dmg/die when using associated energy (cold).
Traits
Affable (Diplo is class skill, +2 to gather info; takes 1/2 time)
Focused Mind (+2 concentration checks)
Exposed to Awfulness (reroll saves vs harmful demonic effects 1/day, must use second roll if done)
Feats
B Point Blank Shot
1 Skill Focus: Knowledge (Arcana)
Skills
Diplomacy +8 (1 rnk + 4 cha + 3 class)
Knowledge (Arcana) +7 (1 rnk + 3 class + 3 feat)
Perception +4 (1 rnk + 3 class)
Spellcraft +4 (1 rnk +3 class)
Spellcasting (Sorceror CL 1 (conc +7, vs SR +1), Base DC 14)
1 - 4/4
0 - Detect Magic, Ray of Frost, Dancing Light, Mage Hand
1 - Shield, Magic Missile
Equipment
Cash: 12gp 5sp
Weapons
Quarterstaff, +0, 1d6 dmg, 4lbs
Dagger, +0, 1d4 dmg, 10', 2gp, 1lb
Claws, +0, 1d4/1d4 dmg
Ray of Frost, +3 rng tch, 1d3+2 dmg, 30'
Armor
Traveler's Garb, 6lbs
Hot Weather Garb, 8gp, 4lbs
Gear
Backpack, 2gp, 2lbs
Belt pouch, 1gp, 1/2lb
Scroll case, 1gp, 1/2lb
Journal, 10gp, 1lb
Ink vial, 8gp
Inkpens (5), 5sp
Waterskin, 1gp, 4lbs
Alchemist's Fire (1), 20gp, 1lb
Sunrod (2), 4gp, 2lbs
Potion of Cure Light Wounds (1), 50gp, 1lb
[sblock=Background]Shayuri was raised by her uncle; a merchant of Qadim who made a living traveling from settlements in the desert to the cities of greener lands. Though she loved exploring the towns and cities and meeting customers and strangers alike, she had little patience or head for the business end of things. Her easy rapport with people was still of use, and her uncle often employed her to chat people up, find out where the good prices were and who was buying what. Shayuri excelled at this, and when running her errands took to collecting little mementos of her travels and friends...coins and buttons and little shiny things she kept in a jar. Each had a memory attached to it, and she found it a soothing exercise to empty out the jar and pick through the objects within one by one, remembering.
Perhaps, had things gone another way, she would be there still. We'll never know now.
Shayuri was nearing the age of majority, and facing increasing pressure from her uncle to start running things more...simultaneously wondering if this was really all she could aspire to...when her life was knocked off course in a shower of fire and blood. Her uncle's caravan was attacked by a band of black-clad humans led by a terrible demonic figure wreathed in brimstone flames. As the cultists held the guards in battle, the demon itself tore through tent after tent, killing any that stood in its path. Shayuri's uncle stayed with her, his two scimitars in hand, waiting with a grim face.
"When it comes," he told her, "I will hold it, while you run." Before she could even protest, the moment was upon them. Foul claws ripped the hides of the tent aside, and her uncle charged at the demon, his swords springing to life with strange white light!
Horribly though, the demon never paused in its stride, even when the swords ripped wounds in its unholy flesh. It bore down on Shayuri with singleminded intent, and grasped her between its taloned hands. Though the heat of it burned, and the stink of it made her mind and body convulse, worst by far was how it met her silver eyes with its own hellish red ones and she felt something like claws dragging across her very soul. Vile black magic closed in on her, snuffing her out as if she'd never been...annhilating all hope for resurrection or rebirth.
Shayuri fought desperately, both in soul and in body, but her struggles were of no use. Dimly she heard her uncle shouting but couldn't make out the words. Curses maybe, or challenges. The demon grimaced, but never lost its focus. It was going to kill her, even if it died too.
What could she do against that?
Then, as her soul peeled away like the layers of an onion, something rose from inside her...roaring out like an explosion. A great argent light that roiled up against the darkness crushing her and drove it away, at least for a moment. The demon's eyes widened in surprise, and it reared back, roaring with rage as a white glowing scimitar tip emerged from its belly. It was not a mortal thing though, and the wound which would have felled a man only enraged it. Driven mad by the pain and anger of the man assaulting it, the demon whirled to face him, giving Shayuri time to back away, to get to her feet.
She didn't hesitate again...she ran. Ran right into a black-robbed cultist. He was wounded from his earlier fight, but hale enough to aim his spear for Shayuri's heart. Acting on sheer instinct, and more from luck than skill, she sidestepped the thrust and reached out for the man's neck...perhaps hoping to grab on and choke him.
Instead, the claws on her fingers tore fragile skin away, and he collapsed at her feet.
Shayuri stared in shock, then looked at her hands. Curved talons that gleamed like steel grew from her fingertips now. Her fingers were thicker, and knobbier, and pebbled with little scale-like plates that sparkled like tiny mirrors in the sun. The scales thinned towards her wrists, vanishing entirely just a few inches up her arms. As she gaped at the monstrosities attached to her, they began to fade. The claws softened and drew back...her fingers slimmed and the scales vanished. In moments her hands were the way she always remembered them again.
She barely even noticed the death howl of the demon, a few tents over, or the weeping of the many wounded over the even more numerous dead.
In the aftermath, Shayuri's uncle remained maddeningly tight-lipped about what had happened. He said that she'd have to talk to her parents if she wanted to know more; that he himself had been told very little as well. His own anger at the attack was palpable, and not entirely at the demon. He was upset with Shayuri...or perhaps her parents...as well. Though he allowed Shayuri to stay for a little while longer, it became increasingly uncomfortable. Word had gotten around that she was the target, and the caravan camps became lonely places for her.
She learned that the claws could come and go as she pleased...though it took effort to bring them out, and she tired after doing it a few times. They didn't seem supernaturally sharp or strong, but they served as well as a dagger might. Stranger still were the dreams...echoes of a voice speaking syllables she didn't understand. It wasn't until she heard a hedge wizard casting a spell for the delight of a gaggle of children that she recognized the words.
The very next day Shayuri took her leave from her uncle's care, and while he guardedly wished her luck, there was a shadow over his face that let her know he didn't expect her to live long. She stayed on the move, using the money her uncle gave her in parting to hire first one tutor, then another, and another...as she traveled the long road northwards to the place she'd been told her parents had gone.
The Wound in the World, from which demons spilled like fresh blood. There, she would have her answers.[/sblock]