Granger

Information

Player:Uguu

Character Full Name: Granger Splinterfist ((Pronounced 'Grain-grr'))

Character In-Game Name: Granger

Nickname(s): None, currently

Association(s): The Horde. Warsong clan.

Race: Orc

Class: Warrior

Age: 52

Sex: Male

Hair: Bald, light facial hair from jaw to chin. Dark black, in color.

Eyes: Brown

Weight: Around 440-460 LBs.

Height: 7'3"

Appearance

Red, plated armor covering the chest, legs, head and shoulders. Reenforced leather gloves and boots, studds of metal lining the footwear as a small plate, circling the insides of the gloves, acts as a bracer.

A rather simple, leather belt tying off the set and a tabard with an icon of Ogrimmar, set across the chest. The helmet has a pair of large horns, jetting out from just behind the temples. The shoulders have a number of curved spikes, aimed upwards, along the metal. A simple, leather harness is set under all of this for support.

Other:A small hatchet is often tied at his belt, as well as a skinning knife and a cloth wrapped box of tinders. His preferred weapon, being a large axe, was forged by his own skill to use in battle. He also keeps a few tailoring supplies, hidden away in a small bag.

Personality

Alignment:Lawful Good/Neutral Good. Closest I can narrow it down.

Granger, while holding great respect for them, refuses to use wolves as a mount. Prefering to keep to his own methods of walking and running, the orc has built a great strength in his legs. His racism against most Alliance races, as well as the Forsaken and Blood elves, is hardly kept as a secret. His opinion on them made clear when he insults and berates them, sometimes for no reason other than to do so.

His preferring to use a two-handed axe, stems from a hate of shields. Having done battle with many an Alliance footman, his belief that using a shield is a cowardly act of hiding behind a ‘wall of metal or wood'. Though racist to the more recent allies of the Horde, Granger will tolerate an elf or corpse long enough to get the job done, if a commanding force so deems it required. Beyond that, no such luck.

While in his early years, Granger was violent, loud and beyond quick to engage someone over an argument or any other reason. Having become older and matured over time, he has shrugged this style of things off and is more reserved in action and thought. Though, his tolerance for warlocks is still little, if any, and getting him to fight alongside one for any period of time will take effort.

History

Born on the lush plains of Nagrand, Granger began his life under the hateful and glaring eyes of his father. Civil war abound as the young orc kicked off from his life, alongside his brother and sister, being the youngest in the family. His constant bullying from his older brother hardset a hatred for the orc, who held a sadistic outlook on things, would spend the next few years beating and torturing the boy. Scars and wounds would trace across the orc's back and arms for years to come untill the Horde would be raillied once more to wage terrible war. Sadly, not for some time.

Granger spent nearly every moment of his youth training with arms and strengthening himself, merely trying survive the hell he'd been placed in. Between the civil war that decimated so many of his kind to his own family assaulting him daily, Granger had little choice but to either become stronger or die. By the time he was seven, his luck had appeared to change. His brother, in a fit of rage upon returning home, strikes his sister with a hammer and knocked her down. Blinded by his fury, he'd not taken notice to a bowl of water at his feet and triped over it, landing his throat against a helmet and running himself through on a large spike set onto it. The orc fell limp almost instantly, leaving only the two siblings in the room of the small hut.

Everything seemed to change so quickly as the Horde suddenly rallied, finally, under a new cause. The mass of brutish orcs, hellbent on war, seemed so eager to storm the recently made Dark Portal and rend and tear apart the new world and its unsuspecting dwellers. His father, at the time, seemed utterly unconcerned with the eldest brother's death. Declaring the orc an utterly pathetic excuse for life and deserving of far lame a fate. When Granger is finally nineteen, the portal finally became large enough to allow entry to the new world. The orc continued to hone his skill as he heard scattered findings from scouts that passed through.

Only a year would pass, just after Granger turns twenty, that the portal would suddenly spill forth a terrible swarm of raging orc warriors. The now adult orc would spend another few years in training, honing himself with his recently forged axe as he keeps watch for trouble. News of the orc's victory over the ‘pink skins' instilling him with a desire for some of the bloodshed, himself. Finally, his chance would come as he makes his way through the portal, alongside a storm of other warriors, and commits to his slaughter across whatever battelfield he finds.

For less than a year, the orc butchers and decimates his way across the lands. His time spent training on Draenor, finally paying off as he cleaves a swath through whatever stands against the Horde. This suddenly changes as the human kingdoms gain the advantage in the battles to come and crush the Horde's offensive and enslave them into camps. While his fellow Warsong had managed escape, the orc and, later, his sister were placed within inprisonment. Life just ground to an utter halt as his spirit seemed outright crushed alongside this defeat.

The orc would soon fall into a depression as lethorgy would begin to take hold, a combination of the guard's ruthlessness and the pathetic state of affairs begins to cripple Granger. Having his armor and weapon stolen from him and his supplies of food far below what he'd normally have, he quickly began to lose hope in it all. Finally managing to right himself enough to survive in the camps, he redirected his goals to atleast ensuring the survival of his sister and the remaining orcs in the camps. Waiting for the day they could overtake the guards and escape. A day that would not come for some time.

As the years dragged on in the camp, Granger's relationship with his sister began to tighten. Being one of the only orcs in his life that he could actually talk with, he often gave over parts of his rations to her. His watchful eye was kept over his sister, as well as the now growing youth, as he continued to ‘exist' in this hell. The guards showing little care for his kind as they tormented and insulted them, daily. Life still showing little promise, only the desire to ensure the safety of his kind and, one day, hoping to utterly butcher the humans for this crime. His hate would continue to build, years tendering it in a furnance of rage.

The epitomy of his hatred would arise, just two weeks from being rescued by now regrouped orcs of Doomhammer, as one day his sister vanished off from the small section of the camp they had taken a ‘home' to. The orc would spend the rest of the day scouring what little of the area they had to live in for her. When it appeared that she was simply gone and likely dead, Granger grudgingly returned to his little corner of the world. Upon reaching there, he laid sight on his sister. Huddled over against a large stone, locked in a sobbing fit as she holds onto her legs. He'd barely have even the time for a word before she suddenly raised a knife up and nearly takes her own head off with a violent swing. Her body falls over as the blood sprays out across the ground.

The orc can only stare in horror at the scene before his knees buckle out from under him and send him to the ground. His eyes locked onto the now bloody corpse of the last living member of his family, taken from him by her own hands. He slowly crawls his way over to her in hopes that she may be saved, only to find her head held on by only bone and a small section of flesh. Granger did his best to hold himself together as he held onto his sister's corpse, smearing himself with blood as he looked her over. Nearly going breathless as he came upon a note, clutched firmly in her hand. He carefully pried the tattered message from her grasp and folded it out to read. Another, unseen, orc leaning over his shoulder begins to read it as well.

He barely had time to even read half the page before anger crept in, an explaination taking place in the words. The other orc goes wide eyed as soon as he realizes what has happened and steps back, preparing himself for what's to come as he calls over a few others. Granger glares for a few moments before he grits his teeth and bellows out a horrid war cry, turning on his feet as he moves to charge headfirst at the guards. Only to be slammed against the ground as half a dozen orcs, swarm him and press him down. His movement utterly halted as he fails to move the weight now bearing down on him.

His struggle against them would stop after a few minutes when, even raged, he realizes this is a hopeless fight. Lying there on the ground for what seemed like hours, Granger had began to question the point of it all. Days would pass as he slugged around the campsite and thought on things, grieving for his sister the entire time. Finally, his chance would come as he and the other orcs were suddenly saved from their torment by Doomhammer's troops. His revenge taken swiftly upon the guards for their crime as he quickly recovered his armor and axe and set himself after them. With the orcs freed and the guards decimated, Granger rejoined the new Horde and prepared himself for war.

The orc, now filled with hate, would spend the years under nearly constant conflict. Hacking and crushing his way through anything that dared to oppose the Horde, his hatred for humans matched only by his savagery in combat. This would all come together at the end when the orcs set off from Kalimdor. Granger would hate the boatride to the distant land, as he spent much of the time thinking about things, which only reminded him on the horrors that the humans needed to pay for. The founding of Orgrimmar would bring new hope for the orc, believing that perhaps here he could actually find some measure of peace. Instead he finds himself another conflict to push through as the third war was kicked off.

Everything seemed to go by so quickly as Granger and the Warsong clan did battle with so many foes. From a boar, charging him from the bushes to the harpies and their damned screeching. It began to feel like the old days again, which did little to ease the memory of the past. The battles came to a halt, for the time being, when the Warsong is relocated to a lumber collecting task. Suddenly, everything just seemed so dull, Granger spending his days harrassing the peons to continue working as he stared at the massive trees. Everything seemed boring, those days.

This would, of course, change when the night elves took offense to the tree cutting and engaged the orcs from the forests. Granger would spend a short time fighting off the elves as they laid siege to the camps and making short work of their smaller frames. His axe was stained with blood before the days were done. One day, he would face off with a living tree of sorts, a trent, and would find himself disarmed of his weapon. Flying into a rage, the orc lashed out at the wooden foe and began pounding it with his fists. Quickly deciating it as he broke it to pieces and scattered it about. Though his right hand was broken from the fight, he took the name ‘Splinterfist' for the victory over this enemy. The orc could hardly wait untill his next battle as he aimed to make use of his skills once more. Sadly, this would not come untill the climax of the war, at Mount Hyjal. The demonic Burning Legion, setting a siege to the world tree, would find themselves against the combined and marshalled forces of the Alliance and the Horde. Ultimately, failing to overtake them before some plan was set to motion. Upon the end of the war, Granger returned to Orgrimmar to celebrate what had happened. Taking some time to reflect on what had happened over the years, the orc continued to serve the Horde as best he could. Merely wanderering around the lands as he honed his skills further, preparing for whatever else may challenge him or the Horde.