Ygdri had been embroiling herself amongst the battlefield’s various scrapes as she brought shield and blade into glorious combat once more. The fires of her orcish heritage lit a demon-fire in her blood and set her into the deadly song of an Orcish Shieldmaiden: Slam, parry, slash, parry, stab, and bludgeon. All of the notes of the Orcish requiem were brought to the fore as Ygdri began to rack up an impressive kill count. She had the advantage of her own two legs, and although the Wargs were impressive war beasts, they did led to loosely controlled anarchy in all but the most skilled Warg handlers. Runt was probably the only one Ygdri knew for certain fought better atop the back of a Warg, and Runt was beyond skilled when it came to her Warg kin.

The bloody work suited Ygdri well enough: it allowed her to bring her knowledge of the human form into the fray as she snapped knees with a well-placed kick or broke rips or cracked noses. All humanoid creatures were chock full of easily abused biological weaknesses: it just took Ygdri’s unique combination of skills to combine them. 

Eventually, the battle began to reach its obvious climax as the entire enemy force was annihilated. As was expected, the first company were without any fatalities, and seemingly without any major injuries as well. If all battles ended this way; Ygdri would have a chance to forget her healing craft. Kolach gave the order to saddle up, and Ygdri felt a growing sense of dread as a Warg’s leash was handed to her. She eventually found herself on the back of the beast: looking awkward and out of place on the beast’s back. Ygdri could boast many talents, but riding ranked in one of the lower places. 

Despite this, Ygdri would ride because it was what the mission required. They were here bashing heads because of some human-prince needed the entirety of the first company to guide his sorry ass through the trouble and into a position in which they could get killed on his behalf. It mattered little way for Ygdri personally. She had a lot of respect for Kolach, and his orders were the ones she would listen to. He had earned the right to order her, were so fed others in her life had earned that pleasure. 

Ygdri and her warg, a beast she had no idea what it was named after, stayed near the pack of the rapidly moving Warg caravan. It took all of Ygdri’s discipline to keep from throttling the beast after it had trawled forward amongst the Warg train. She was gripping the beast’s heckles a little tighter than she should, but the Warg had seemingly made an exception for the nervous doctor: god knows why.

Soon the Doctor was atop the strange rampart, alongside several large Wargs, the entire first company and the overwhelming population of ‘able’ bodied humans; all the ones who could pick up an axe or an Iron sword or, more worryingly, a crossbow. Enough of those pointed at the orcs could lead to more casualties than she cared to deal with.

Still, perhaps Ygdri’s first glance had missed a single casualty. Derthag and his Warg had been pretty injured by the events of the first ride: He had seen Derthag get into a pretty tough fight, but now she noticed his head was bleeding, whereas the Warg was missing an eye. Kolach nodded towards the injured pair as he gave an order to both the doctor and Mutt, the other major female element of the group and someone Ygdri had sadly not had many conversations with. She walked alongside the much smaller Orc while her hands plucked at various pouches inside the inner side of her shield. 

“Call me if you need any help with the Warg: I’mma make sure Derthag hasn’t broken anything important.” Ygdri plucked something from behind her shield: a small pipe of her own that was prepped with a number of herbs that would dull the adrenaline in her system just a smidgen. She knew not how to heal with a hunter’s heart: so the pipe would dull the killer instinct all orcs shared; if only temporarily. 

After a single drag of the pipe and a soothing exhale: the orc maiden sat herself next to Derthag, with the booted Orc in between herself and the Warg, letting him sooth the beast while Mutt got to work on the packmate. “Seems like you kissed the wrong type of ass, ass.” She smiled lightly as she gripped the top of the orc’s head as he got a good look at the blooded jaw of Derthag: checking to see if the boot of the Achnal had broken anything. 

A few moments of examination showed that Derthag had nothing more than a bruised jaw and a chipped tooth. She let go of the top of his head and gave the pale orc’s jaw a pat: more than aware it likely smarted. “You’re pretty lucky it seems: nothing broken and nothing that a few more hours of pipe won’t fix.” She reached into another pouch in her shield, handing the man a small pouch of herbs that had mysteriously ended up at her bedside in the camp. “These’ll sooth you, if you start to ache somethin’ fierce.”

Ygdri looked over at the Warg, no doubt being looked over by Mutt at this point. The Orc doctor hoped that Mutt would be able to work her magic, yet she had caught a glance of the blow it had received. Even Mutt couldn’t fix an eye like that, so the beast was probably going to be robbed of depth perception: Sad fate, really. “Need any help, Mutt?”