Yorah's page

Lenla has a heart of gold, but she tends to make horrible decisions in life. Her daughter turned out to be a result of one such decision. Having a child outside of wedlock, and one with a green tint to the skin on top of everything, Lenla had found herself irritated by the constant whispers and disappointed looks. She left the town shortly after. She travelled south towards the forests of Verduran - a place where, at least supposedly, all can join the local community and live as one with the forest itself. This turned out to not be a horrible decision, as both she and her daughter were welcome in the community. They both received new names upon joining. The child was named Yorah, and Lenla never told the child her own true name or place of origin.

Yorah was raised in the spirit of the Green Faith. To venerate nature itself, to appreciate its gifts, and to give back what you take. It’s a simple life, but it works. Especially appealing if you live in one of, if not the largest, forests on the continent. Each year, swathes of powerful druids moved through town, performing what Yorah could only describe as miracles right before her own eyes. She was enthralled. Once she witnessed an owl turn into a man right before her very eyes. That was the last drop. She immediately ran to this person, asking them to help her learn such powers. The man smiled and asked to speak with Yorah’s parents.

Two weeks later, Yorah found herself in the company of a handful of youngsters, working on honing their skills. However, the initiation into the arts of druidry takes literal years. She wasn’t told that when she started, but being able to fly like a bird has to be worth it. Right? At least that’s what she told herself. Medicine, herbalism, self-improvement, caring for the land and its inhabitants however big or small, the circle of life - these were just a few of the lessons Yorah and the other children were taught. The half-orc girl grew into her late teens and eventually found herself taking care of several colonies of bees with her friend Orix, a sylph from Kyonin. The colonies were their pride and joy, eventually growing to around 2 million strong, and eating up a considerable amount of their time. The druids were happy with it, however. “It develops discipline.” Orix and Yorah heard that line countless times. Not that it mattered, they were happy with it.

Another student, a gnome fellow named Ililar, had a particular affinity for fire. Ililar made sure every torch was lit, every pyre was large enough, and every hearth was warm overnight. Yorah didn’t pay him no mind, until that day. The day he came, boasting what he could do. He walked around the copse, with a small ball of fire hovering above the palm of his hand. Students followed the gnome, praising him for his achievement. Until he walked to the bee yards and got stung, releasing the fiery seed into one of the skeps. Before anyone realised what was happening, the straw was ablaze and so were the colonies within. Fortunately, the nearby seniors stopped a major wildfire from spreading. The bees, however, were in a bad state, reduced to just under a quarter. Orix and Yorah watched in horror as their years of work were reduced in a literal flash. Orix mumbled something under her breath. Yorah, holding her friend for comfort, lost her temper and shouted the thing at the gnome. Firefu… fornicator. The gnome was still in pain and shock, and only regained focus when the students were shouting the unpleasant nickname at him repeatedly, laughing along. The druids attempted to turn the experience into a lesson in the importance of control, and the consequences of losing it. It probably fell on deaf ears, however.

As far as Yorah is aware, Ililar never forgave her. As a matter of fact, he sabotaged her whenever he could. As long as others were using the nickname, he would not stop. She was sure of this.

It took a while, but the senior druids had found a resolution. Yorah would be charged with taking care of a small oasis in Qadira, apprenticing under Epwi of Tapur. She gave her goodbyes to Orix and her other friends and profoundly apologised to Ililar. Not that it helped. Yorah’s life in the desert felt like an unjust punishment, but at least she had her own, private tutor. Epwi was no hierophant, but she learned a thing or two. And years went by. Yorah made progress, and on a particularly hot day, she attempted to call in a light breeze to relieve the locals. Unbeknownst to her, she had a visitor a few weeks back. Ililar gave her a visit and imbued some of her components. Instead of a light breeze, Yorah summoned a sandstorm, nearly devastating the local wildlife and at least one caravan.

She almost gave up on her dream, but Epwi managed to lift her spirits, eventually. When Yorah calmed down, Epwi tried to turn it into another lesson. “I probably mislabeled some ingredients. It’s as much my fault as it is yours. There’s a lesson to be learned here. Make your own ingredients, or check the ones you get from others.” In truth, Yorah was quite scared of harming others with her inexperience. She decided to travel back north, and live as a hermit, expanding her knowledge on her own. Small steps, trial and error. Eventually, she found herself a small glade in Border Wood. She set up a few bee skeps, a small garden, and a humble hut where she could try to work on and expand the rituals she had already known.

Her solitude lasted for a few months, but she was eventually discovered by a handful of local gatherers. As she was working on a shapeshifting ritual, she was disturbed, and the magic misfired. Her lower canines, already large thanks to her orc heritage, grew in size. And so the locals started talking about a hideous creature living in the woods, with fangs as large as fingers, stealing children at night, to gorge on them under the light of a full moon.

A blessing in disguise, Yorah thought. At least they left her alone. And they did. For a while. But some came back, asking for help with their misfortunes. The tusks were clearly making people uncomfortable, and they also made her mouth dry, so she started filing them down and wore a mask when she had visitors. Nevertheless, she helped when she could. Toothaches - a problem she was familiar with until she developed a unique combination of 11 herbs and spices ground up and mixed with a little honey. So she gave them that. She also helped with various other minor problems. The villagers were coming in more frequently over time. Eventually, she fixed a broken femur. She was pretty proud of herself when that happened. It was progress. Slowly, she and the Heldren locals developed a long-distance relationship, but most were still scared of her for some reason.

And on one beautiful summer morning, Yorah woke up to find her roof and the trees in the forest peppered with snow. Confusion kicked in. She didn’t do any rites yet. Curiosity won over, and so she packed her bag, put on her mask, and set out to check on Heldren.