(Geez, better get this up if Elyaan plans to start a new CRP. Had this one in my mind for all of like..... Well the last five minutes anyway :P)

Name: MacGriever (Formerly MacDonald, compatriots changed his name due to his constant griefing of friends and foes alike.

Age: 32

Race: Human

Class: Tinker, Reality bender.

Appearance: Long dirty dishwater blonde hair, face that makes ladies swoon. Wears blue jeans, white shirt and an open black leather jacket.

Skills: Griefing anybody and everybody. Uncanny knack for getting himself into tight spots, combined with an even stronger mystical skill for getting himself out using random junk at hand. Practically indestructible due to being able to cobble together a solution to just about everything in seconds from whatever is lying around.

History: MacGriever was formerly a Defias of low rank stationed in the Deadmines, the super secret underground base of Edwin VanCleef. His days were spent "on patrol", which he considered to be what he was doing while wandering around griefing his fellows. It got to such a state that the Defias gagged him and clapped him in chains to await an order from VanCleef for his execution. He was perusing the debris around him to see what he could break himself out with when a band of overzealous Alliance "heroes" came through slaughtering everyone, in the nude of all things. Must be one of those level 80 fun runs he thought. Once they had Teabagged VanCleef, they took the chains off him and removed his gag. After explaining his predicament, they agreed to escort him to Stormwind.

True to form, he spent the next few days griefing the 80's escorting him. As a result, they decided to throw him into the Stockades instead of setting him free. He found himself in a run down cell surrounded by angry Defias prisoners. In short order, through use of a wooden food bowl, a toothpick and an old thighbone from the cells previous occupant, he was free of the cell and well on his way out of the Stockades. Through judicial use of a red woolen bandana, he passed through the Defias. As he picked the lock on the door out with a sliver of iron and two of his own hairs, he heard commotion on the other side. Opening the door he was confronted by a rank of heavily armored Stormwind guards. Looking down at the floor, he grinned.

"Morning fellows, I suggest you remove your shiny arses out of my way!..... No? Well how about this, my newspaper...... Wrapped around a rock...... With twine...... FLASHBANG!!!!"

He tossed it at the and they laughed. In the resulting flash, he took two of their purses and slipped out into the city.

(Will add more as it comes to me.)