Height: Average, if a little short.

Eyes: Greyish blue.

Hair: Filthy. You simply can't see the real colour anymore. Perhaps it was normal brown once upon a time? It's usually set into a ponytail.

Clothing: Rugged clothing, stained with filth and mud.

Speech: Demanding, annoying.

Age: 21.

Prejudices: Anybody who doesn't like cheese'n'whiskey, who steps into her graveyard without business, Death Knights, Worgen.

Best Quality: Easily tricked.

Worst Qualities: Brutal and horrifying to some.

Weakness: Alcohol and her immense dislike to anyone walking on her graves.

Talents: Shooting and hitting people with her shovel.


"But yer so soft... like a pillo'..." - Acaia when hugging Helsythe, whilst drunk and having previously terrified him at the graveyard.

"CRAZEYS!" - Now fleeing from Helsythe and the Witch-Hunters (without knowing it is him) after having two men filing a report of heresy. She's confused, having her rifle and shovel stolen from her.

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