Gricca

Information

Player: Gricca

Character Full Name: Lillane Wainwright

Character In-Game Name: Gricca

Nickname(s): N/A

Association(s): The Horde

Race: Forsaken

Class: Warrior

Age at death: 22

Sex: Female

Hair: Neatly cut, ear length dirty blond

Eyes: Dark void

Weight: 155

Height: 5'11”

Alignment: Neutral Good

Appearance

Well cared for armor and under clothes, a pair of axes and a pair of daggers.

Personality

Gricca is a reserved person, a watcher, some one who is utterly unwilling to let emotion control her actions. Having been at hate's mercy she is always cautious in angers presence, her own and others. On the same coin, she's been dull and lifeless and never wants to return to that ever again. Her unlife is marked by the struggle to keep this balance. That is why she takes civilization and other people in doses, preferring to sell her potions and then fade into the wilderness when pressures grow too much. She has a great appreciation for shamanic ways and the terrible majesty of nature.

History

Lillane grew up the youngest girl in a family of boys; Allister, Germaine, John, Colbert and Tomas Jr from oldest to youngest. Tomas Sr was a farmer in the Hillsbrad Fields, and a prosperous one thanks to the strong backs of his sons and unbreakable will of his wife Harrietta . Far from being spoiled, Lillane often felt herself eclipsed by the noise and bustle of farm life. She was a thoughtful child, inquisitive and generally underfoot. Though loving, the family had little patience for 'frivolous' questions like 'What's evil?' or 'Do animals have souls?'. Only Allister took time to try and guide his impressionable sister.

Many an hour were spent sweating over a chore with the tales of old weaving between them. Allister was a natural story teller and would happily expound upon any old legend to the delight of his audience. It was through this brotherly affection that Lillane would discover her dream and make the decision that would change her life forever.

At the tender age of 15 the young woman left her home to join Knights of the Silver Hand in Stratholme. Enthralled by tales of glory, justice and honor, the naïve Lillane centered her entire existence on this dream. She didn't even get past the entrance exams. The starry-eyed girl was not blessed with the ability to channel the Light.

In her mind, the shame of failure would be too harsh to bear. So, broken hearted, she remained in the city doing odd jobs around the Knights compound. This was how her natural talent for, ironically enough, plant life came to be known. She had landed a temporary job with the healers, weeding their gardens and keeping away pests. Whether it was her farm knowledge, or some other innate sense, Lillane's garden's were always the lushest and most disease resistant. It didn't take long for the skill to be noticed. Hands like hers were always treasured among the healers and she soon joined their ranks.

Success sparked something inside Lillane and reignited her desire to fight for Light. This time she set her sights on resurrecting the Holy Order of Northshire Clerics. Though lacking any kind of magical skill, she had the toughness of body and strength of will to be a fighter. In her free time she trained to keep fit and strong. Her elders were bemused by the woman's spunk and perseverance, though held no hope she would ever achieve her goal. Some of her peers were initially infected with her optimism but quickly fell away after the reception by the rest of the Order. Sadly, before she could fully realize her dream the Plague began to spread.

No magic or potion could touch the disease or prevent the horror that would occur after the victims death. Though Lillane and her fellows struggled mightily, all was for naught. Soon Prince Arthas ordered the mass killing of the infected. She was murdered right along with them, sword in her hand for their defense. Not long after she was raised as part of the Scourge. Lillane Wainwright truly died that day, leaving only clues and residue in her former body.

The woman who would be Gricca awoke after years of slavery, in the chapel at Deathknell. There was only cold stone and silence to greet her, no memories not of the Scourge or her life before. Only a painful, hollow ache where the scars of what she lost remained. With only loss to define her being, Gricca took a name from a head stone and threw herself into the Banshee Queen's service. Allowing herself to be consumed by hate drowned out the hungry nothing, for a time.

Eventually it's persistence ate away at the passion behind her hate, drained even that from her leaving a corpse in every sense of the world. Soulless, listless and melancholy, Gricca wandered toward the Scarlet Monastery. They would know what to do with a creature like her. It was at this point that Lillane surfaced.

In a brilliant flash of memory, more real than anything she could recall up to this point, Allister rose from the rotten depths of her mind. He smiled and laughed and spoke of Stratholme while the farm rolled out in full bloom behind him. Who was this man and why did he fill her being with such warmth? She had to know!

Unfortunately one can't simply quit being a Deathguard and then hang around. It's generally frowned upon. So Gricca cleared out for the time being, vowing to return and find a name for the face and familiar hills. Flung into unfamiliar territory and needing new ways to support herself, she's discovered a talent for plant life, potions and for healing that in all her rage she'd never have imagined possible. Memory is a persistent thing, much like dreams.