Rebecca-Rev1

Information

Player: Rosencrat

Character Full Name: Rebecca Soleil

haracter In-Game Name: Rebecca

Nickname(s): Becca, ‘Packer', ‘Cent'.

Association(s): The Alliance, Stormwind

Race: Human

Class: Warrior

Age: 21

Sex: Female

Hair: Medium length. Tawny Red. Rarely washed. Tied in crude ponytail.

Eyes: Dark Brown

Weight: 167

Height: 5'9

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Appearance

She wears what she picks up, scrounges or makes. Her ‘about town' are just old men's work clothes, stitched by a crude hand to be peered down for her use. For armor she prefers functionality over esthetics, enjoying nice sturdy plate or mail. Ugly and masculine, they serve their purpose and not much else.

Personality

Rebecca is a brawler. It is not a profession. It is a lifestyle. She talks big. She fights dirty. She swears and punches and gouges and is only comfortable when she can get a weapon in her hands. She's crass, caustic, vulgar and hedonistic. She lies. She can be stubborn as a kodo sometimes and she doesn't enjoy admitting defeat.

A life of poverty in Stormwind gives you a certain set of morals and personality. She had to be cunning, brave and above all tenacious to even manage with the older boys that she ran with. As such some of the more ‘feminine' traits have long since been drowned in the Canal while she is, in body, a woman in her mind she is as manly as anyone else. And she will fight you tooth and nail to keep that illusion in place.

History

Draw the curtains. Cue the mournful violin's wail. Keep the beer close. The story of Rebecca Soleil starts slow and sad. Yet, like all good stories, the mood lights and the action moves into something you can get good and fightin' drunk to.

Rebecca Soleil was born to a poor seamstress, Emily Soleil, and a dockhand, Richard Kersten in the 12th year. An illegitimate baby conceived in the dockyards of Stormwind, when she came into this world her father ran out. He ran so far that he had to get on a boat and go to Northrend. Sans father, Rebecca grew up with only her poor mother to keep her in line and keep her fed. It was not a task either of them looked forward to.

By seven Rebecca was already spending more time out in the streets of Old Town then in the tiny hovel that her mother tried to pass off as ‘home'. That suited Emily just fine. After a long day of weighting tables and doing spot stitching to earn enough copper for them she was in such a black and foul mood that she paid little mind to the little girl. In time Rebecca stopped expecting to be nurtured and turned elsewhere to fill the family-shaped void. And there were plenty of war-orphans in the city for her to squeeze into the hole. And one particular boy who just happened to fit the hole of ‘friend' perfectly.

By ten she was a member of a small street gang of orphans. She bullied and kicked and punched and bit just like the older boys. Her friend, her one true friend, had been whisked away to Dalaran to live in luxury as a mage's apprentice. There was jealousy and there was betrayal. He sent constant letters back to her, always on fine parchment, telling about all the marvelous things he was seeing and doing in the magical city. She always replied with her own blocky, poorly-written notes on slips of linen or cheap paper. They were rarely as enthused as her friend's letters.

Time passed on. The Third War came and went. People died. Demons were fought. A plague was spread. And yet Stormwind's Old Town was relatively untouched. Rebecca grew up with her gang. As they grew older more and more of them began to trickle away. Hutch was stabbed in a bar fight in the Dwarven District. Emmet and Babssy went off to fight in the Third War and got their heads lopped off. Sole hopped a tram and went back to Ironforge and Lady's Fingers went off to try and join the Defias. This left Rebecca.

Ever since she's been doing odd jobs around Stormwind to earn her keep. Her mother has long since passed away, leaving her a few copper and a list of colorful swears. At nights she hunkers down in Dwarven bars, gets black-out drunk and gets into fights. During the day she lugs crates back and forth onto ships and gets black out drunk and gets into fights.

It's not really a life. But it's something.