As accustomed to most orcs, Yotul Amadeus too experienced the hardships of warfare ever since birth. Especially so by being raised amongst a small mercenary band of nomadic orcs that traversed the Southern Badlands of Azuras. The girl never knew of her father, for he was just another soldier in an unending war. In contrast, her mother was one who healed the injured, and surprisingly took good care of her daughter; at least more so than most. But even she showed tough love, for the violent curse upon the race was difficult to quell, if not impossible.
For a kid who had to grow in a rather hostile environment, Yotul quickly came to terms with how merciless life was from the countless deaths she's seen. Although never been on the front lines, the lucky mercenaries who made it back to camp were enough for her to learn a lesson. In the meantime, she had managed to learn how to heal another, tutored by her own mothers to help stitch those in need. During her leisure time, the Amadeus was fortunate enough to have found camaraderie with the shamans.
Eventually, the mercenary band decided to settle down as a tribe due to its growth over time. The leader convinced that hunting and blood sports could satiate their blood lust, alongside the occasional mercenary work. The need for healing deteriorated, thus Yotul spent more time with the shamans and the few alchemists for her studies. It was nothing but a series of luck that she has had a caring mother, a successful clan, intellectual shamans, and a childhood life where she learnt many lessons.
Just for it all to come crashing down when she came of age. Just when she was about to be taught in the ways of shamanism. Just when she was given the name Amadeus to specialize in the Ancestry Realm.
Vengeance crumbled everything she held dear. The Amadeus herself assumed to be dead by opposing forces who had raided as payback for what her tribe had done to them during their days of being a mercenary band. It was only with her contact with a spiritual figure that she survived; perhaps her own imagination or something more.
When she awoke, there were no survivors. An entire tribes slaughtered while their leader was gone on a mercenary mission. And Yotul stayed not a second longer, for she assumed that the very same enemies have already gotten to her chief away from his home. So she ran, not even a glance back at what had happened to her home. No, she couldn't bear to even confirm the devastation of it all. All she could do was run, travel all the way up north with the survival skills that she had cultivated a nomad earlier in her life.
In the next several years, she spent her days alone in a makeshift camp in a forest near the mountains, in the southern borders of the High Kingdom of Idunia. The Amadeus began her journey of healing a part of her that has been lost from the destruction of everything she knew. Contemplation on who her father was, and to not give into the violent urges within an orc just like he had. To cherish the skills that her mother had taught her, and the will to improve in it. The grief of never having learnt Shamanism; a battle between giving it up and ambitions to pursue it in the future. All the while, she meditated to calm her mind to withstand the excruciating desire to kill. Only did hunting truly satiated that cursed feeling inside her, sometimes going overboard to where she'd not care for her own safety.
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However, we are all social creatures. Yotul's austerity as an outcast had piled up throughout the years, her blood lust growing stronger despite how gradual improvement of self control.
On one night, the night sky brightened by a clear moon, Yotul finds herself uncontrollable. Tortured by the need for violence. Thus, she ran around with her hunting knife like a predator on the prowl. Then she finds it, a shadow figure in the forest, all alone. Only for it to be a lost child when she lunged at them to attack. This revelation completely numbed her insanity, shocked at just what she was just about to do.
The hunting knife dropped onto the grassy dirt below, while the girl underneath didn't even scream out of pure horror. It was a sight that the Amadeus would never forget. Just as she was interrupted by panicked footsteps from behind. It was a young man, just a little younger than Yotul was, appeared to be the older brother of the child she'd just tackled. His hand gripped his sheathed blade, while the other that held his lamp up high trembled. The tension slowly breaking as the blade came out slowly.
Thankfully, the situation was resolved after a series of dramatic exchanges, with Yotul brought back to where the young man had came from. They were a family of traveling merchants that were returning to Idunia after having smuggled something. And the heartfelt explanations given to the family convinced them to allow the Amadeus to join their caravan. For a few days, they were like a family, surprisingly open to whatever Yotul had to share about her experiences. Even the child she once lunged at learnt a few things to survive out in the wilds from her.
But their adventure soon came to an end as they parted ways once they arrived to the nearest town in Idunia where Yotul was dropped off. A pouch of gold gifted to her by the matriarch of the family she'd just met. A gesture of both generosity and purchase of the Amadeus' loyalty and silence of what she saw.
