Most half-orcs don't pore over books for hours on end. Most half-orcs don't spend their free time hunched over a sheet of parchment, quill in hand. Most half-orcs don't bend the laws of physics simply by uttering a few words and waving their hands around. Let's be honest. Most half-orcs don't even read. But Gorasha's mixed-blood parents had other plans for their child. Tired of living on the fringe of orc society and banned from that of humans, they taught her various skills starting when she could crawl. She learned her father's trade, carpentry, and her mother's herbology. One day, her father saw an opportunity. The chieftain came back from a raid, carrying a dead wizard's spellbook carelessly in one hand. Gorasha's father traded him their only chicken for that dirty little book. This was his daughter's ticket into prosperity and out of the desert wasteland. He snuck extra meals to one of the human slaves in the camp in exchange for reading lessons for his daughter. He and his mate pushed Gorasha to study the strange book every day, regardless of their own inability to make any sense of it, regardless of her preference to catch crickets for her pet scorpion, regardless of whatever the other children were doing. Eventually, the child began making small lights shine just past the ends of her fingertips. She'd never seen her parents cry before. This was her path to a real life.
Eventually, Gorasha made her way out of poverty, mending broken tools in a nearby town faster than any blacksmith could. She bought earned a wholesome reputation in the town and earned enough for a small hut for herself and her family, where they've been enjoying a modest but tolerable life ever since. Whenever she gets an opportunity, Gorasha devours any books at hand. But she still makes time for drinks with her father or walks with her mother whenever work allows.
