Affiliation: The Crew of the Wicked Wench, the Horde, the Dragonmaw Clan.
Relatives: Unknown.
Strengths: Brought up in the ways of her Orcish heritage, she is a merciless yet honorable killer. Clever and cunning, she inventively and quickly mutillates her opponents.
Weaknesses: She only has one viable eye, restricting her overall combat abilities.
Current Location: Somewhere amongst the southern seas.
Personality: She is savage, and was brought up to honor her Dragonmaw ancestry. Exceptionally cunning and loyal, she was a fearsome and stealthy hunter of her clan. However, she is more respectable, compared to the majority of her race.
Biography:
Born upon the alien world of Azeroth, she entered the world as a member of the Dragonmaw Clan. With their utter defeat in the Second War, the majority of the Orcish population was subjugated into internment camps. However, the Dragonmaw fled to the mountainous regions of the Wetlands and the Twilight Highlands, and continued their service under the Dark Horde. Although their Warchief was Rend Blackhand, their clan was represented by Nek'rosh Skullcrusher. Dretha proved a proficient hunter at a young age, but she awaited the day at which she would properly join her clan. As Dretha's coming of age ceremony took place amongst the Dragonmaw, she felt pride. The rites were the usual ones, and they ended with her recieving the tatoo of her brothers and sisters. Engraved upon her back and upon her foreams with a sharpened dragon claw, she had joined them in body, as well as mind.
Yet, politics were not as fortuous. In due course, Nek'rosh had fallen to the Alliance. Left leaderless, the following years were filled with turmoil, as powerful warriors attempted to claim the title of Chieftain for themselves. Within the coming years, she had encountered numerous Dwarves of the Wildhammer clan upon hunting trips. Sucessfully killing many of their kind, she had grown fond of claw like weapons, in contrast to the usual mace or sword. Shredding and ripping into her enemies, she attained the title of 'Fistripper'. Although, some of her hunting trips were more successful, bringing back worgs and stag alike. Sadly, one of these trips had ended in tragedy. While attempting to slay a worg, the creature had clawed her eye. Although the scars had healed, the eye did not. She seemingly wore an eyepatch from that day forward.
Years later, a replacement as a leader had arisen though. Overlord Mor'ghor, lord of the Dragonmaw in Outland, had arrived to restore order amongst them. Yet, his dictator style leadership had the Dragonmaw living in fear and tyranny, a shadow of what they once were. A few days before the Overlord's arrival, Dretha had departed upon a fishing trip off the coast of the Twilight Highlands. Unfortunately so, she never did return. As she collected the local fish within her nets, a lone Kraken attacked her rowboat. Confused due to swimming into unusual waters, the beast unleased its fury upon the Orc. Knocking her unconsious and destroying her vessel, she had washed up upon a nearby island merely hours later. As she awoke from her slumber, she could not remember much. The words 'Dretha' formed upon her lips, as she was left with her claws, and rough brown leather attire.
Sitting alone upon this unknown island, she did not remember who she was and where she had come from. All that she could remember was her name. The markings upon her arms interested her, yet she could not remember what they were for. Neither could she remember what had happened to her right eye. When a mysterious ship had arrived a few more days later, she was barely holding onto life. Saved by the generous Human, she joined the crew upon the ship. Initially, they held distrust for her, yet she could not understand it. Possibly it has been her race? Maybe her heritage? The mysterious tatoos upon her skin? Although, her strengths had been proven, as they assailed numerous coastal villages and lonesome merchant ships all over Azeroth. Slowly and surely, trust had been achieved. She came to accept their tongue, as she had become one of them.
Also so, her memory started to fade back. It began, as she remembered her people: the Dragonmaw Orcs. Slowly following this, she remembered her 'Fistripper' title. This title also became known to the crew of the ship that she was upon. As she rose through the crew's ranks, she ascended to the ship's first mate. Their attacks became more frequent, as their hoarded riches were taken to The Isle. Slowly, Dretha had warmed to the lifestyle, altering her armored appearance to accomodate the new career. She felt as if a debt had to be owed to the captain, who had saved her. Although, upon one evening, she had pleaded with him to spare her clan, and any of their settlements. He agreed. It was only months later when the Cataclysm had occured. The world had been ripped apart, yet this didn't seem to affect Jack. Keeping his course the same, they continued to search for new crewmen.
Although, her heart throbbed wondering about her family. Learning of whispers from random ports about the Dragonmaw, and how they had joined the New Horde, she thought that her brothers and sisters were on course for a bright future. Believing that it would be of no use to return to them, she remained with the Ebonsail Reapers, to continue her pirate career.
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