Before she was Khatun Kalla Scorchrazor, conqueror and warleader of the United Hordes of Kisar, she was nothing. She was a half-orc with barely a place to call home, an outcast in her own land. There was no Kisar at the time of her birth; there were only disparate tribes of orcs and giants, often in conflict, rarely in any cooperation, and if ever they were to find themselves allied, such arrangements were quickly dissolved when opportunity for something better presented itself.

It was from these roots that nothing grew. Nothing was Asgaja, a pale green girl born to a human father and orc mother. Raiding villages for supplies was nothing new to orc-kind, nor was capturing other races for chattel. As her tribe was nestled near the northern borders of two major nations, she was often privy to such arrangements. Such arrangements were the circumstances by which she was brought into the world. Ushtar-hai, the village in which she grew, was larger than most. It was in a rather well-off position, close enough to the borders of nations that it could raid trade expeditions and outward settlements, but far enough away that it was not in much danger from counterattack. Half-orcs were not necessarily an uncommon sight in Ushtar-hai. However, this did not make them any more welcome.

Her mother, Shauob, was not bad at her job of mothering per se. She was as much a mother as any other maternal orc would be expected. That is to say she often let Asgaja simply find her own way, and Shauob felt that her tasks extended as far as ensuring Asgaja had a roof over her, some meat to eat, and could throw a punch. In all other matters, Shauob, much like the rest of the tribe, deferred to their chief, Mabotun.

Mabotun was larger than most orcs. Not in the tense that he was taller, or broader of shoulders, or of stature, but that he was heavier-set. He seemed to spend most of his time ordering others. He generally sat on his dais towards the center of the village, eating what suited his fancy, taking what women did the same, and ordering raids for more stuff. The reason he was in charge was simple. It was a matter of tradition. Tribal politics. "Way we do things," was the reason.

That was a reason Asgaja came to hate as she grew older. It was a reason that seemed to come up rather frequently. Why so little was expected of her. Why she was treated so poorly. Why she was an outcast. Why her father was nowhere to be found. It was the way things were done, and that was how Asgaja should be expected to live.

Furthermore, alongside her disdain for the deference to tradition that seemed to plague her peers and elders, Asgaja noted a great deal of inefficiencies in the way things worked. Most notably, Mabotun seemed to get what he wanted, and those he favored got the same, while those who he did not care as much for didn't receive as much. Those who were not in his graces at all were lucky to have anything. Furthermore, tribal militias were trained in haphazard ways that often resulted in injury. Battle-scars or worse. She voiced these concerns to her mother, but never seemed to get more than orders to be silent. It irked her.

She felt as though this meant she needed to overcome her station. "The way things worked" didn't need to be this way. She could make something of herself. This thatched ceiling need not hold her, she thought, as she hefted her training axe, setting to work in the training yards daily. Whenever she couldn't work there, she was generally found hunting, tanning, working on lumber, or other such physical pursuits. She even made a friend. Karingrautas was her name. Karing for short.

Karing was smaller than Asgaja was, and her skin was a soft, off-yellow rather than your typical green, and her hair was a peculiar bluish-black.. She was one of those... sorcerous types. Asga didn't understand them. They did all sorts of weird tricks with light and heat and cold. It struck her as very peculiar, and it was hard to settle down whenever Karing was training. Yet over time, Asga was able to relax. She saw that there was as much effort and practice in these arcane abilities as there was in her axe-work. Karing was often unfurling scrolls to read, begging for raiding parties to bring back more for her consumption. It was awfully un-orcish behavior, Asgaja thought, but Karingrautas was still treated more as an orc than she would ever be. There was a cruel unfairness to it, she thought.

As time went on, both of them coming into their teen years, they grew closer, despite Karing being a full-blooded orc and Asgaja being but a half-orc. Their friendship was looked down upon, but not enough for anyone to do anything about it. Asgaja noticed... things about Karing. Her un-orcish behavior was... refreshing. It was a calming change of pace, even as Asgaja found her way into raiding parties (albeit in the most unflattering of positions and roles). She felt soothed around her friend. Her... companion. The only person she was close to in this camp. She was studious, quick to find new things to look into. She was eager to fight, as any orc was, of course. But that eagerness for a brawl took a back seat to the pursuit of new things to explore. Karing took her out one day to explore. Karing tried to show Asga the "nature-beauty", as she called it. Asga was struck by an uncomfortable feeling that she was unable to stop taking in the beauty of her only friend, instead. It was disquieting.

Asgaja put away these troublesome feelings. She was more focused on the disadvantaged hand life had dealt her and how she might overcome it, pondering this in anger as she trained. She took a swing at a hardwood post, accidentally digging her axe into it. A strike that took considerable force. Maybe another raid would come up soon. She'd be able to cut her feelings out on some poor bastard.

"Something on mind," Karing grunted from behind her. Asga jumped with a start. "...hm. Perceptive. Reading help Karingrautas see... feelings." Karing smiled at that, her tusky grin softening Asgaja's temper. "Tell Karing problem." Their speech was, of course, typical Orcish. Devoid of pronouns and other articles of speech that other races take for granted. Why waste time say lot word when few word do trick?

So Asgaja unloaded. How cruel she thought it was that she was mistreated for her ancestry. How inefficiently the village was run, how corrupt it seemed to be, how people weren't provided for even if they deserved it. She didn't divulge the strange sensations she experienced in the forest, though. Perhaps she never would. Throughout the whole rant, Karing simply listened quietly.

When the tirade was over, Karingrautas simply nodded. "Karing agrees," she said, in her softer-than-most voice. "Not fair. Karing help. Asga go talk Mabotun."

...wait, really? Just like that? ...no plan, either? And go talk to the chief personally? "Yes. Karing insist." This was... almost too good to be true, that she had her friend's support in such a way. So readily. "...Y-yes. Asgaja will do this." She was resolved. She took up her training axe and slung it over her shoulder. Night was beginning to fall, and Chief Mabotun was in his tent. Uncharacteristic, she thought, but it would be better if this meeting were private, anyway. She stepped inside, feeling confident that her friend... or... perhaps, just perhaps, something a little more... was right there with her.

"Chief Mabotun. Asga need talk." She grunted with anger. But before she could say another word, she was beset on all sides by guards - restrained and held down.

"Chief Mabotun was right. Asgaja no know place in village." That voice. No. No, no, no.

Karingrautas stood behind the group as Asga was forced to her knees. "Asgaja think village run badly. Asgaja think Asgaja can do better."

"N...no! Why?! Why, Karing?! Karing same as Asga! Outcasts!" Karing laughed. It was a cruel, soul-crushing sound. "Karing and Asgaja not same. Karing shaman, yes, but Karing full-blood orc. Karing know place in village. Asgaja do not."

"But... Asgaja... thought... something together..." She was crestfallen. She lowered her head. This whole thing... this whole quest to prove that she was enough for this village... she was never going to be able to make it, anyway. It was always going to boil over like this. Tears fell from her cheeks as she hung her head low. Mabotun stepped towards her, his own axe in hand.

"Hm. Asgaja is very weak. Mabotun thought perhaps Asgaja could be of use. Asgaja worked very hard. Not hard enough, of course. Weak, filthy human parent. Never good enough for orcs." No. No... she wasn't good enough for the orcs like this. She never would be. Why was she trying to be?

She should stop trying to be. They needed to be good enough for her. That was the point of her rant, wasn't it? Things as they stood were inefficient. Weak. The kingdoms to the south... though they were often raided, they were also more efficiently-run. Safer. More secure for people. All people.

So Asgaja grit her teeth. She roared with all her fury, and she threw the guards off of herself with everything she had. They hadn't fastened ropes to her just yet, and Mabotun was shocked at her sudden display of rage. He attempted to swing his axe at her, but she backed away, and she ran. She ran past Karing, who just looked at her solemnly. She thought about stopping, but pushed it out of her head. No. She'd been betrayed. She saw her hut. She couldn't stop there, either. She had to just run. It was clear that this was no longer safe.

So she kept running. As hard as she could, until she was certain she was clear of Ushtar-hai. She stopped, leaning against an old oak to catch her breath, gasping as she recounted what happened. Her only friend had been just... assessing her. And she'd failed the test. Maybe that was a good thing. As she panted, she looked back the way she came. Glowering in the direction of her village in the moonlight, she decided that she was right. Those traditions she'd been saddled with had just been holding her back - her and everyone else. The giants in the other villages, too. She didn't understand them, either, but she wagered they had the same problems. She'd do something about it. She vowed it that day. She would return to Ushtar-hai someday.

And she'd have that damned Mabotun and his lackey Karingrautas... no matter how much she plead, no matter how much she begged or tried to appeal to the good times they'd had. Asgaja would have their heads on pikes.