Gralin

Information

Player: Aruk

Character Full Name: Gralin'agash Bloodwolf

Character In-Game Name: Gralin

Association(s): The Horde, Orgrimmar, Warsong Clan

Race: Orc

Class: Barbarian/Warrior

Age: Late thirties, early forties.

Sex: Female

Hair: Reddish brown topknot

Eyes: Quite red.

Weight: 450lb.; 240 kilograms.

Height: 6 foot 8' inch; 2.03 cm.

Alignment: Lawful Neutral/Evil

Appearance

Leather, or Mail at most. Avoids plate like the devil. There are two worn and aged looking leather cords around her neck, holding together various bones, teeth and beads; A necklace made after the Om'riggor; one is her's the other her brothers. A pair of claws are strapped to each thigh with worn, thick leather cords.

Gralin is a large woman, standing at almost seven footand with a war-torn facade and numerous scars of all sizes over her body. The most prominent, and apparently the one with the most impact, is a three pronged scar running across her face; Over the right eye, the bridge of the nose, under and above it leaving the both upper and lower lip maimed, and finally ending on the other side of her face just by the jaw line. This has left her right eye quite useless; should she or others remove the eye-patch, they'd see that in fact, a decent amount of the eyeball is missing, including the upper eyelid. Along the markings, there's evidence that the blade or claw was somewhat blunt, and that it teared at the skin as well as slashed. Her body is constructed in a way most would expect a mammoth to be; She's broad shouldered, with shallow hips and a strong, square jaw, each appendage the width of a log, with muscles that tense and shift under the thick skin with each movement. The green battered hide is riled over with numerous black and aged tattoo's; intricate and simple, large and small, they all depict one or other Warsong symbolism, and many are a personal interpretation of various legends, myths and personal deeds.

She's never seen without her sword; It's worn, beaten and has seen more repairs then a draenei probably has years up it's tail, but the weapon seems still sturdy and sharp enough to continue for many more years of use.

Personality

Gralin isn't hard to sum up; She's a spiteful, merciless and relentless she-orc, with little love for anything that doesn't fit into the standards of 'Honor, Blood and Glory'. She's quick to insult, provoke and challenge, but what seems a brute is a cunning beast, waiting to see how the quarry will behave - those who are brash and with no thought are ignored at best and at worst left with a permanent mark to constantly remind them of their stupidity. However, she's just as quick of temper as she is with spite, and it usually doesn't take much to set her fuse off, revealing her foul temper and a brashness of her own that usually ends in blood - her own or others.

However, there is a nicer side to her she keeps well hidden from prying eyes, but one that isn't hard to reach. A simple drink or a tale, (or perhaps both) and Gralin is already much softer around the edges. One simply has to keep a good impression of honor and dignity, and stand behind their words, and the dreaded she-orc already behaves much nicer. She doesn't really go out of her way to kill or injure but it doesn't take much to push her to it. She'd rather completely avoid a needless confrontation, and one that is pointless, rather than waste time and energy beating something to a pulp just to prove you can-that harbors no honor, proves no strength, and is merely a wasted display of power you could've better shown in a thousand other ways.

History

Gralin was born to the Warsong Clan some near forty years ago while they still called Draenor keep. As every young whelp is expected to learn, the she-orc was more familiar with a stone dagger sooner than with her own two legs. Along with her two brothers, she was tutored as all the little hell-spawns at the time; as children of the clan. Basics of hunting, rituals, songs and dances of the tribe were thought to the three and they prospered under the watchful eyes of the elders.

The day of their Om'riggor was one to be celebrated, but mourned. Gralin was sent out with her brothers to kill a talbuk each, and return with the blood of the beast. The three separated, but held a strong bond, never daring to go out of each other's view.

The youngest brother was the first to draw blood--he was a temperamental one, even by Warsong standards. The talbuk fell quickly, and the victorious howl of the Orc sounded off through the land...Gralin was the second to fell the beast, but earned decent injuries from the sharp hooves and horns, regardless emerging victorious as well.

The third brother was one deemed for peons; He wasn't the brightest, or the strongest but his pride and arrogance were enough seemingly help him crawl out of any situation; and that would be his death. The orc charged head first onto a talbuk disregarding the rest of the wildlife. His bellowing and screaming left a herd of clefthoof surprised and startled, leading to their inevitable stampede. The talbuk fell...but so did the orc under the clefthoof feet. In memory of his demise...no matter how humiliating, Gralin crafted an unblessed necklace of beads and bones, carrying it around her neck.

But during this time the wars raged on. The draenei fell like insects to the might of the fell-infused Horde. Many a whelp was simply tossed into the fray, expecting them to properly pull their weight, to bring pride and honor to their clan and family. To the brother and sister, the father shaped a sword and claws; The sword Bloodwolf still carries into battle, and the claws of the brother which caused her dissfiguration.

Many orcs still today argue who's fault it is for Draenor. Some say it's the orcs blame entirely, some are in between and the others say the draenei got what they deserved for showing such weakness. Gralin stands in between; There is the pleasure in the thrill of the battle and the blood it brings, but there lies a difference in mindless slaughter whose sole purpose was to please a slavehandler. The mark on her face is the result of a quarrel with her brother; Two hot heads disagreeing on the fate of an infant. The brother wished to kill, the sister questioned him.

He screamed for a duel; the Mak'Gora, a duel of honor. He believed his honor and pride hurt by a woman, and the woman was insulted by such a claim - she had after all, proven her strength numerous times to herself, him and the clan. They clashed, sword and claws. Both were brutes; Tall, heavy and relentless, both bearing names after the wolves prowling their homeland, for their tenacity, stamina and bloodlust. The brother never allowed a proper swing from her massive sword - constanly repeating the hit-and-run tactic.

Gralin bears many marks of his weapon; apart from the face, much of her body carries the three-pronged claw scars. The constant attacks fueled her rage, until it finally blew; like an erupting volcano, an echoing howl pierced the sky and the relentless strikes rained down on her sibling until first a limb flew off, following his head. The clash came to an end, the challenger beaten--and headless. In his honor, she carries the claws strapped to her legs, though they don't see much use.

The rest is common history; Gralin was and still serves as a Warsong Grunt, following Thrall's command to where he needs the forces, and prior to him, followed Hellscream with fierce loyalty. She migrates from Ashenvale to the Barrens and to Orgrimmar as is required, but after the Northrend battles, she feels more at home in the frigid north. However, lately she's been making her home in the Barrens, aiding the effort there against the Quillboar, Centaurs, and many a foolish alliance trying to sneak past.