Grace Shepfield

Information

Player: FlyingSquirrel

Character Full Name: Grace Shepfield

Character In-Game Name: Grace

Nickname(s):

Association(s): Alliance

Race: Human

Class: Gunslinger

Skills and Abilities: Grace holds decent ability with the Rifle, being able to accurately shoot up to 50 meters. She rarely uses her shotgun, as it has enough kick to knock her off her feet. Her real use, however, lies with her revolver, which she can both draw quickly and shoot accurately with (if aiming).

Age: 18

Sex: Female

Hair: Dark red. It often falls over one of her eyes, and goes just below her shoulders.

Eyes: Bright green.

Weight: 142

Height: 5'8

=Appearance

Grace wears a simple brown set of clothes in her normal every day life, with a small revolver hanging from her side. When she knows she's going to fight, or is traveling, she puts on a set of mail armor and Duster which only reaches to her knees. She has her revolver with her here, as well as a Rifle and Sawed-off Shotgun.

Other: Her Revolver has Hardened Iron for the majority of the parts, with the handle being composed of polished oak. On one side of the handle is the inscription 'GS'. On the other side of the handle is a golden emblem of a lion. The Revolver, overall, is very smooth surfaced with no rivets in the loading chamber or barrel.

Personality

Grace could best be described as surly. She's not the cheeriest person, but nor is she the most sorrowful. Instead, she could be described as a mix between the two. She doesn't hate the Horde with the same fervor as some of her elders, but still sees no reason to be friendly with them. This doesn't mean that she'll shoot one on sight but, ultimately, her loyalties lie with her Kingdom. However, she understands the uses of money, and of other forms of power, and isn't afraid to use that knowledge.

History

Grace was born into one of the noble families of the Kingdom of Alterac. The majority of Orcs were in Internment Camps, and the remaining, primarily the Dragonmaw Clan, had been defeated and were largely harmless. And thus, the girl was raised into a life of luxury, given every little thing that she needed, and some things that she didn't.

Although she rarely saw father, but she was raised with fond memories of him. Her mother, on the other hand, was always ready to pick up the young girl if she fell, Well, until Alterac began to crumble under the rule of the traitorous King. At the time, Grace just remembered her parents paying some men. Whereas other people began to flee, Grace continued to play with her dollies, oblivious to the suffering around her.

She continued to age, and, as she grew to around 13, her parents began to send her to Private Institutions for Young Ladies, and other things. Despite the daughter being well-behaved and overall a picture perfect child, she often hated wearing the dresses and learning how to be a proper lady. However, it was what was expected of her. So, slowly, the daughter fell to the teacher.

It was four years later that she saw her first Forsaken, and it scared her. A lot. She ran the other direction. The next day, and the Forsaken was still there. In fact, the thing hadn't even moved. The third day, the fourth. Still no movement. So, finally, she got a pitchfork and went to attack the thing. The first hit, and it fell over, the corpse having been frozen. The side of the skull had been crushed in, and it was evident that the something else, much larger then her, had been here before, as it's tracks filled the area around the corpse.

She returned home and found that the attic of her house provided a decent view of the areas, granted that she had a pair of binoculars with her. So, she watched through the rest of the day and through most of the night. However, eventually she fell asleep. When she woke up, she saw the corpse of the corpse had been removed. She tossed on a traveling cloak and grabbed one of the ornamental swords off the wall, heading out to the site.

At first, nothing happened. Then, three shots rang out, and a loud thud came from behind her. She turned around and brandished the blade with about as much skill as the novice that she was. Before her was an Ogre – Again, another first. A man appeared behind the dead Ogre and sighed, holstering his gun. “It's dangerous out her, missus.”

Grace, still quite shaken up, asked the man who she was. He answered, and, eventually was able to get Grace to lower her sword. He offered to take her home, and she agreed. As she went in the door, he slipped a piece of paper in her hands. It offered a simple location and a time.

A week later, and she was at the same place she'd been. The Ogre's corpse had been dragged off, presumably by his friends. The man from before was there. After a short conversation, she deemed the man trustworthy, but still kept a hand on the dagger she'd snuck with her. He led her to his small little cottage, nestled into the side of a mountain. There, he told her of what had happened in the years that she'd been so oblivious.

Originally, she didn't believe him. However, then he took her out once more, and led her outside, to the capital city. What she saw was ruins. Then, he explained it, again. Except, this time, he had Grace's attention. She drank up everything he told her, and believed each one. And so, her schedule changed. Instead of going to school, she went to the man's house. The man taught her how to shoot a few different types of guns.

This easily went on for 2 to 3 years. Whereas Grace's mother and father were too busy to ask about why she sometimes returned home with a skinless knee, or covered in sweat, and she was too busy and tired to notice the house continually getting gloomier. So, everything went well. When Grace reached 16, she bid farewell to everyone and went south, enlisting with the Alliance army, lying about her age when she got there.

War, to put it lightly, was not what the girl had cut it out to be. The first war was the worst on the girl, for many reasons. It taught her the simplicity of the rule 'Survival of the Fittest' and many other things. But most of all, it taught her that Death was always around the corner and, if you let your guard down, then it would get you. For this reason, she began to sleep with her Revolver, and became more and more wary.

The wars slowly began to dull her emotions, not only hate and sorrow, but also love and joy. The Crusade against the Lich King was like clockwork for the girl that had just crossed the threshold into adulthood. She attests the fact that she survived all these things to her skill with a gun but, in truth, it was because she never was in range of danger.

She returned home from Stormwind and slowly, attempted to readjust to life without something to constantly watch out for. Despite the fact that she had sent a letter to her mother every month, she still felt that her mother had changed since Grace was a child. Attributing this to the fact that 15 years is a long time, Grace sighed and began life once more.