An Orc Doctor numbered amongst one of the greatest contradictions a human could put together. A female warrior was also a fairly common one; as many a mercenary or knight fancied themselves a beacon of chivalry and narcissistic masculinity. Many a human would figure that a woman’s place was in the home, awaiting news of their beloved’s victory or death with a hand over their heart and a trembling desire in their cores.

Ygdri then, managed to turn a few heads as she strode amongst the forerunners of Nar Mat Kordh-Ishi’s elite. She stood proud amongst the numerous menfolk: massive shield strapped to one arm and a smoking pipe in the other. She stood a dominant representative of her race with skin as green as emeralds and a form that looked like it could wrestle a bear to the ground. 

Throughout the march, Ygdri had moved with a lithe, casual prowl. The pace may have been fierce, but Ygdri always looked un-phased by the push of the march. Ever smiling and joking amongst her orcish comrades, the strange doctor was always seen with a pipe at her lips and a joke on her lips. To the humans amongst them, Ygdri was a walking paradox: and many of them gawked at her, in confusion, more than anything.

Eventually though, the march ended and camp was set up. Ygdri joined the other elites of Nar Mat Kordh-Ishi in Eyedrinker’s tent. Radush had proven a good man to Ygdri; he had been fair to her during the stay, and Ygdri was honoured to be included amongst the first company. The plans were laid out before the woman, and she nodded in pseudo-understanding. In all frankness, Ygdri barely understood the whole ‘map’ thing that Radush and the half-orc, Kolach, were so keen on. Even as a member of the First Company, she didn’t really do much when it came to leading the pikes or rallying the blood hungry morons. Her job was that of a warrior, yet she was also the company’s main doctor.

Scratch that, she was its [i]only[/i] doctor of merit. The hack saws who pretended to be healers were naught in comparison to Ygdri; and everyone in the company knew it. She played the role of the follower much better than the role of the leader, yet she was indispensable because of it. 

She managed to catch a few hours of shut eye before the camp was ripped apart during the night: and those few hours of rest had led to her feeling well prepared for the battle to come. She flexed every muscle as she stretched out the last dregs of sleep, feeling the last clinging dullness of sleep gripping her muscles in an attempt to slow her down. 

Other preparations for the battle to come went about swiftly. She prepared her armour and attached her weapons to various clasps, belts and straps. Battle would be a nice excuse to cut loose: this would be the first true battle-test, and her orcish blood was boiling in her veins. She may be famous for her ability to save lives, but every orc got a certain thrill from ending them.

Ygdri was not much of a warg rider, so instead of acquiring a mount, she stuck to the more conventional means of a charge. Someday, she’d have to find herself a teacher: but for now she would just pound the dirt.

Her assignment from the Eyedrinker had been a pretty open one. He and she had the simple understanding that Ygdri would float to where the fighting was thickest. It suited her talents best to be where the violence was: and she was more than skilled enough to handle herself in a scrap. 

She was soon in the thick of the fighting: falchion flashing past her shield every so often to cleave a skull or to break a limb. Ygdri’s pipe had long since been lost somewhere, and now her mouth was only occupied with a vicious grin. 

The doctor’s thoughts were on war, healing could wait for a bit.