Chapter IV: ORKY (Part III)

Only six months ago…

Azur and I sat on the long-familiar cliffhang, the lighting of the worksite and fashioned living quarters outside the Ork camp illuminating the dark night, aside from the twin moons hanging in the sky; Mannslieb was, thankfully on that night, much closer to the eye's view than Morrslieb; that smaller, greener moon strongly associated with the god of the dead.

Honestly, the formal and mandated educational programs set in stone by Emperor Karl Franz only a few years before my birth was deeply appreciated now and back then, considering the mind-tearing amount of brainrot that filled the space in my life in between those moments of enlightenment and recollection.

I had grown accustomed to Azur as the years passed, even having been skeptical of his presence at the very start. Somehow, beyond the all-encompassing genetic desire for conflict in Orks, this one in particular seemed to have little fightiness in him; and I was beginning to wonder how he had even survived until now. I had to reason that it was being exiled outside the camp that saved his life, and considering Orks didn't particularly have to eat it made sense he could have lived years like that.

I'd lived long enough here to know more than enough about Ork culture, especially regarding the sole religion they worshipped- that being Gork and Mork. Cunning, brutal, all that shit. The part that especially stuck out to me about the knowledge I gained (primarily from Strosk), was that they tended to not tolerate 'non-fighty' Orks.

I wanted to know more. More about this peculiar Greenskin.

"Azur…" I broached the comfortable silence. "You're a mage of Gork and Mork. You seem like a… great guy, compared to your peers. How are you alive?"

The sheer bluntness in my question was an unfortunate byproduct of my living environment. Daily life consisted of work, death, violence, death, guts on clothes, cleaning, eating, a little more death and violence, and then some more. Grappling with mortality, especially in conversation, was normalized at this point.

Azur turned his mask to me, decorated in ceremonial bits of paint and feathers, and said something quite profound- while yelling, of course.

"YOO KNOOO, ENOS, DA GREAT BIG 'UNS GORK AN' MORK MAY BEE KUNNIN AND BRUTAL, BUUUT DEYZ GOT DUALITY LOIKE DA KAOZ GAWDS! DAT FELLA 'KORN' AIN' JUS' ALL ABOU' KRUMPIN' AND SLAUGH'ERIN! 'E'S ALL ABOUT' PROIDE AND HONAH, TOO! SAME WIF' ALL DA OTHA 'UNS!"

I furrowed my eyebrows in deep curiosity, eager to hear more.

"Then what do Gork and Mork represent as their duality?"

"WELL, WUZ DE OPPOSITE UFF KONFLICT AN' FOIGHTIN'?"

ENOS

Back to the fight between Enos and Rayza Bakk…

Sanity came back to me in fragments, and only once the Black Ork took off his helmet and glared at me with the experience of a veteran did I come to realize just how stubborn this fight would be.

Glancing around the spacious flat rock, seeing the various decor, (minimal) furniture and hefty amount of weaponry, I settled upon a crude rack behind me, which held a various assortment of different killing tools. My eyes were enticed by the only mace on the rack; a crude thing, but it would suffice.

Malice laced every part of my body. I felt as if I were giving proclamation to the immeasurable being that gave me this very power coursing through every microcosm of flesh remaining on me. This was power.

I felt a cruel grin crackle across my face as the Black Orc attempted to stare me down. I felt the great mass and weight of the mace in my hands. Heavy.

"This'll do." I muttered aloud, as if centering my thoughts to be in the same modem as my reality. This Orc seemed to think we were fighting an even match, perhaps even outclassing me in battle. The word 'futile' would not do justice to the sheer uselessness of that notion.

I. Had. A fucking deity on my side.

As if sensing my swelling of confidence, the Black Orc roared with fearsome volume and charged with agility that betrayed his clunky-looking appearance. Within a second, the Black Orc had managed to close the ten-meter gap between us, and brought his battleaxe down with the force of an Organ Gun. I dove forward and rolled with my back onto my feet.

CRACK-ACKACKACKACKACk!

The sheer force behind the battleaxe cleaved a large chunk of the rock formation, sending boulders and stone chunks careening down onto the unfortunate combatants who were not agile nor perceptive enough to see their imminent doom. I had no time to spare remorse or worry for those fighting with me; despite what power I gained, the Black Ork was more than capable of killing me.

I couldn't spare even a half-second to worry for others. I needed to execute this bastard quickly- he was more dangerous than all of his allies combined.

In the same second he brought the double-headed axe down and I had dodged, I dashed forward precipitously and stabbed the spiked mace forward in the direction of his exposed head. He pulled himself back just enough for the mace to fly by and nick his features with the spikes jutting out from the mace. Before I could pull the mace back, he locked his forearms around the handle, preventing me from retreating. I had focused a bit too long on ripping the mace from his grasp when-

SLICE!

Numbness from below both knees. Without looking down, I quickly realized he'd cut off both my legs with his free hand, which wielded the battleaxe-

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

The brain-splitting, agonizing pain eventually rendered into my unfortunate nervous system, and washed over the entirety of my body in mere seconds. I could hear the Black Ork chuckling ominously, as if enjoying the sight of his foe crippled and screaming.

C-

R-

I-

C-

K.

(Music: "Bad News", by Apashe)

"HUMOROUS, IS IT?"

This was not enough. I felt unassailable. The pain washing my nerves with shock was not enough to deter my consummate, lifelong hatred.

Hatred for my birth here. Hatred for my soul-draining childhood. Hatred for the Greenskins and Beastmen that raided my village. Hatred for this bloodied, feral camp. Hatred for the deities and dark gods that watched over this awful world and cruelly laughed.

The FEAR OF DEATH WAS NOT ENOUGH TO QUELL MY VENGEFUL SOUL!

I H-A-T-E-D ||| THEM ||| AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

-LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!

Still gripping the handle of the mace, I took my left hand off and laid my palm on the Black Orc's bulky armoured shoulder pauldron, much to his confusion; he was seemingly still stunned by my wicked resilience against mind-shattering pain and limb loss.

"YOU DO NOT KNOW YOUR ENEMY IN THE SLIGHTEST, FOOL. THREE YEARS I HAVE BROILED IN THIS SHITPOT YOU PRESIDE OVER, AND NOT -ONCE- DID YOU SENSE DANGER UNDER YOUR VERY FAT-MUTTONED NOSTRILS."

CRACK!

The Black Orc reeled back in further disbelief as my hands began to send cracks spindling along his charcoal shoulder pauldron; the metal begun caving in slowly, piercing into his hardened flesh.

"YOUR ARMOR MEANS NOTHING. YOUR WEAPONS MEAN NOTHING. YOUR SPIRIT MEANS NOTHING. I WILL CRUSH YOU UNDER YOUR OWN MEANS OF PROTECTION. YOU WILL BE ANNIHILATED!"

"YOO DOGGED BASTUHD!"

The Black Orc flung me and the mace from his hold, sending me crashing into a nearby rock wall that collapsed one of the nearby lookout towers for the camp and caused further panic in the fighting down below. I palmed the rough-cropped floor, pushing myself with arms quivering both in pain and power alike.

I watched with wondrous and malicious glee as my legs began to regrow; muscle, bone, sinew, arteries, veins- spindling through the air and remaking what was lost in perfect mimicry.

My maddened gaze fell upon the bewildered Black Orc, who was becoming further alienated from this fight with every twist and turn of events. As the last of my legs regenerated, I sprinted with renewed energy towards the Black Orc; carried both by physical prowess and magical imbuement by my sponsor god.

Anticipating such an attack, the Black Orc lowered his battleaxe like a polearm; and I immediately reached past its edge and grabbed the handle in between the blades, yanking it backwards with the recoil of a Dwarven cannon. The Black Orc bellowed in fiery and uncapped outrage as his weapon flew from his hands, and in a second he slipped forward past my fists and grabbed my skull, slamming my head into the rocky floor with apoplexy and the fury of a dozen Bloodthirsters; it was only through protecting the back of my head with my hands that I avoided having my skull turned into bonemeal. The shockwave practically exploded and obliterated the entire platform we had been fighting on, and both of us came crashing down the rock formation until we landed into the midst of the main battle, accompanied by several dozen large rocks and boulders from above that came crashing down like meteorites and terrorized most of the combatants still fighting.

Even as a hailstorm of rubble peppered the battlefield, the Black Orc was singularly focused on recovering his battleaxe, almost immediately righting himself and sprinting in the direction where I had flung it. I pursued him dogmatically, eager to end his life before he could get an edge on this fight.

"OI'LL CLEAVE YOU IN 'ALF, PINKSKIN!"

Various Orks came up to challenge me in combat; I had no time for them. The first tried to ambush me with a surprise attack to my right; I caught his club mid-swing, wrenched it from his grasp, and propelled the handle into his face with all the power of an Ogre Bull. The club tore through his skull and out the back, impaling two other Orks running up for a fight before splintering into pieces.

The path to murder the Black Orc became more slaughter, more blood, more dismemberment and evisceration; Orks were felled left and right, painting the battlefield with their blood and guts. I could vaguely sense a deity aside from Malal that was basking in this gory affair- though this subconscious observation was the least of my worries.

Dread filled me as, just mere feet away from the Black Orc, he pulled his battleaxe out from the rubble and immediately made a horizontal swing from the right, aimed for my head to cleave it in twain.

W-W-W-W-W-W-W-

W-W_W_W_WW_W_W_W_

(Music: "Time Warp", by Apashe)

…Huh?

I opened my eyes, having expected a swift decapitation; and instead seeing the battleaxe's pristine blade only a mere inch from my eyes. I looked around the battlefield in perplexity, replaced quickly by confounding astonishment.

The battlefield was nearly frozen completely; expressions of excitement, rage, hatred, fear, desperation, caution and madness adorned all those around me, their individual bodies animated so slowly that I was almost unsure if they were even moving at all. The sounds of warfare were disjointed and eerily low-pitched, as if showcasing the slowing of time under my instruction.

What was happening? What… had happened? When had I gained this inexplicable ability?

I waited for answers from Malal in my head, yet none came. I turned back on the Black Orc, seeing him still swinging the battleaxe at the air where my head was supposed to be, his brutish face engulfed in a hellish mixture of fury and rage.

A tingling arose in my right hand, and I gazed down to see spectral tendrils of yellowish-red extending from the pores in my hand; floating in the air as if awaiting some command. Curiously, I felt an inclination to rotate my wrist, and did so to 45 degrees.

W_W_W_W-W-

I watched with miraculous perplexity as the Black Orc reversed in time, his battleaxe moving backwards until he was placed in the act of preparing for the swing.

W_UUUB!

Almost instantaneously, the flow of time regained normalcy, and the ambiance of warfare crashed into my ears once more.

CRACK!

My gaze switched back to the Black Orc, whose battleaxe had slammed into the nearest boulder and shattered it into pieces. The Black Orc stared at the rock dumbfounded, looking back at the location where I was supposed to be only a second ago, and seeing me further away from the initial area.

"WAT DA FUCK KOINDA BULLSHIT TRICKS ARE YOOZ PULLIN', 'UMIE?!"

I wasn't even sure if I'd be able to pull that trick again, but that recovery was enough to give me an edge in this battle. As the Black Orc charged me once more, shoving aside and cleaving through those in his way, I bolted forward, evading his flurry of axe swipes, and tried once more to slow time as it had happened before; focusing my imbued power into my right hand.

W-W-W-W-W-W-W_W_W_W_W_W_W-

Once again, the ethereal tendrils jumped out from my pores, and the very movement of reality decelerated to 1/32nd of a second. Even in this incredibly-slowed timeframe, the Black Orc's battleaxe was moving considerably quick, and I had to duck my head as it passed over my hair follicles. The mere seconds I had to enact this ability was also the amount of time I was allowed to manipulate and warp this reality, and soon after dodging the blow, time returned to a normal speed once again.

"CRK!"

I vomited a wealth of blood onto the rocky floor, my entire body feeling as if it had been put through unimaginable fatigue. This must've been the natural drawback of slowing time; my body would be taking a far heavier toll for moving in that state.

I remained undeterred, recovering in the same second I took the brunt of the effects on my body, and grabbed the Black Orc's left arm before summoning all the remaining strength in my body to fling him over my shoulder; his heavyweight frame flew several dozen meters across the camp, slamming into the fortified wooden walls surrounding the encampment and putting a massive hole through its fortifications.

That single move alone halted the fighting- everyone had bore witness to such a ridiculous sight, and it was apparently enough to cause a complete change in loyalty for those Orks who'd fought on the side of Rayza Bakk. In unity, the Greenskins on the battlefield seemingly forgot their battle seconds ago and begun cheering raucously.

I, however, was not finished. The Black Orc was certainly still alive; albeit likely on the brink of death. No matter how resilient most Orks were, very few could sustain the forceful impact that Rayza Bakk had just taken and still be in any condition to fight. Confirming my suspicions, I had climbed up the outcropping of rocks and found the Black Orc laid out over the stones and rubble, coughing and hacking up blood onto his sable bulky cuirass. As I came into his view, he bellow-coughed and tried to stand up, even despite the crippling of his limbs and torso.

"OI MUST BE *HACK* RUSTY ON THE *COUGH* FOIGHTIN!"

Even despite his imminent death, the Black Orc was chortling at his own loss, seemingly indifferent to the prospect of dying. How infuriating. Even then, though, I couldn't blame him for the miseries that befell me. From a glance alone, I could tell he was no administrator or torturer; he was, like all other Orks, looking for a fight wherever and whenever he could, and happened to be quite gifted at his profession.

I would take his life and end this sordid affair. As I stormed forward and raised the mace to cave his face in, however-

"Enos!"

I gazed behind me to see Snik scurrying up, utterly coated in the blood of others and wielding two poison-soaked daggers in his claws, which he sheathed in his belt loop before standing upright.

"Come-come!" He chittered, beckoning with his paws for me to bring my ear closer. I leaned in to hear what he had to say.

"Man-thing, this green-thing has a great-large hatred of Ogkaz! He was put-placed here in charge of the camp-camp, and he resents Ogkaz for it ever since-then!"

"Why are you telling me this now?"

Snik chittered in frustration.

"Stupid idiot! This Black Orc is of use-use! A great fighter-killer! Convince-lure him to your side for now, and he will be a great weapon-asset for your expansion-dominion!"

Snik's words stirred a great curiosity in me that mellowed my murderous spirit considerably. I had certainly experienced the raw martial prowess of this Black Orc in battle, even with all the disgustingly-insane abilities and power I gained from a literal deity. To have such a gross powerhouse on my side… it was tempting.

With a changed outlook, I cautiously headed over to the incapacitated Black Orc, keeping my club gripped in hand as I approached. It was the right decision, as once I had gotten within a few feet, the Black Orc used the last of his strength to swing the battleaxe at my stomach. I effortlessly dodged backward, and the battleaxe fell from his grip.

"FAAAAAHKKK YOOOOOO!"

The Black Orc cursed at me with a plethora of words and slurs that I couldn't recite here. I waited until its bashful tirade ended, before placing the end of my mace on the ground. I stomped forward, grabbing the Black Orc by his throat, and proceeded to try intimidating it. Summoning the last of my available magical ability, I channeled it into my words, calling upon Malal to reinforce my statement as heavily as possible.

"YOU SERVE THE BRIGHT LORD- No, wait…"

Somehow, I had instinctively said some nonsensical bullshit that likely resurfaced in memories from my previous life. In frustration, I reinforced my hold on the Black Orc's throat, causing him to emit unwilling gasps for air.

"ABANDON YOUR LOYALTIES TO YOUR PREVIOUS MASTER AND JOIN ME!"

The power I imbued in my words alone was not enough; the Black Orc grimaced as if disgusted by the offer made. It was then, though, that I felt the reinforcement of Malal's essence into my next statement.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*--*-*-*-*-*-*-*-SERVE. OR. D-I-E, MORTAL!-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Though I wasn't the recipient of the threat, I could intrinsically feel the mountains' worth of cosmic compulsion radiating through my body, sent like an electrical signal from my hands into the Black Orc's physiology. Somehow I had managed to avoid exploding into a fine mist of red from this use of unprecedented and awesome magical power.

For a brief moment, I glimpsed myself floating in the endless sea of outer space, staring upward at the mind-blowing, primeval sight of a hundred stars glowering with the bristling malice of a singular, sentient god. So large were their diameters that each of their individual celestial bodies would easily fit a thousand planets into them and still have room for another thousand more.

This was a demonstration of unimaginable scale; an intimidation far exceeding the psyche and sanity of practically all living beings that existed on this earth. To be threatened by incomprehensible power-

"GAHAHAHAHAHAH!"

I was baffled, mystified, puzzled, confounded and nonplussed all at once- the Black Orc bellowed with rapacious laughter at the sight of such insane malevolence and force.

"OI'M RAYZA BAKK, BLACK ORC OF GRIMGOR'S GREA'EST, SLAYAH OF DRAG'UNS, SLAUGHTERAH UFF STUNTIES, WIDOW-MAYKAH OF THOUSANDS! YOOZ WILL NEVA BREAK ME, MOI AXE WILL CLEAF THROO AAAAALLLL!"

I was mightily impressed by Rayza's determination. To defy such immeasurable power was-

"You-you can kill-maim Ogkaz if you join us, green-thing!"

Snik's interjection was wholly unexpected, but not as much as the Black Orc's response. His demeanor changed entirely, and what initially defined his entire being with stout and unbreakable will was now morphed into apoplectic rage and murderous resolve.

"WAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHH!"

The Black Orc shook the very air with his all-encompassing shout of defiance, miraculously standing up out of the rubble and now grabbing me by the collar, glowering with renewed anger and feral wrath that nearly rivalled the stars themselves.

GET ME TO DAT UGLY FACKIN' MUG AN' PLENTY O' FIGHTS IN BETWEEN, AN' YOOZ GOT YERSELF A KILLAH- FAH NAOOOOOW!"

A few minutes later…

I stood atop what was formerly known as the Boss' Rock- now awash with the rubble of its former glory, using the mace as a form of support for my exhausted spirit. Standing to my sides were Snik, Azur, Strosk, Snaggi, and -begrudgingly- Rayza Bakk, who'd laid the battleaxe over his shoulder pauldron as he peered down with contempt at the massive crowd gathered before us.

The Greenskins bristled with restlessness and excitement, clearly still not satisfied even after the major fight they had all just engaged in and surrounded by the bodies of the fallen and maimed. The humans that survived were in a similar state, seemingly infected by the same desire for battle that defined Greenskins and their existence. I wasn't sure what to do with this, but I hoped it would wear off in the coming hours; and that no major fights would break out from the agitation in the air.

"Warlord!"

I heard Strosk speak aloud, having run up behind me to deliver some soon-to-be-heard news. I shakily leaned down, waiting for what he was anticipating to say.

"Da boyz are eagah' fer more fightin', an' deyz also eagah 'ta see yooz win a foight with anotha Warlord! Not far from 'ere is anotha camp, Rokwork, an' it's got plenty o' resources and shite that'll 'elp ya in the long run! Dere leadah ain' SHIT compared to da big 'un yooz jus' fought!"

I nodded, for I was privy to the growing restlessness in the atmosphere, and knew from years' experience that Orks left restless for too long would start infighting. It was rather hilarious how I was basically directing a tide of bloodlusting fungi onto whatever target I deemed fit for them to descend upon.

In this precarious and decisive moment, I reflected on the journey that brought me to this point, this very moment of triumph and the first step, the first realized plan I had created out of sheer coincidence and opportunity. Yes, I went mad and lost my damn mind a many good times. But at the end of the day, at the end of this journey, I expected to have accomplished enough that the failures and weaknesses would be drowned out by the sea of greatness I was to grasp at.

I was changed. All at once I could feel the burdens of many different tasks to lay ahead. Even as I laced my ambitious gaze across this vast empty wasteland, I felt a tide of anxiety and apprehension wash over me in tandem; I was challenging the world. Me, with my small tidy angry little band of an Ork camp, to which my authority and leadership was by no means secure. If I didn't stay constantly vigilant, if my authority or control weakened, if I couldn't maintain this powerful demeanor until some permanency of control was established…

I would die. Probably horribly and violently.

With all of this crashing down upon me, I yearned for the touch of a woman. The affection and securing comfort became a partially-driven motivation that solidified my confidence in the future.

I would conquer these lands. I would find a lady to center me. And I would obliterate my enemies until they were dust of dust.

Without hesitating for much longer, I stepped forward and gave my decree.

"WE STROIKE AT ROKWORK!" I shouted over the huddled, bloody masses; accustomed to my adoption of Ork dialect.

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUGGGGHHHHH!""WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUGGGGHHHHH!""WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUGGGGHHHHH!""WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUGGGGHHHHH!""WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUGGGGHHHHH!""WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUGGGGHHHHH!""WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUGGGGHHHHH!""WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUGGGGHHHHH!"

Hundreds of Greenskins chanted the celebratory phrase most well-known in their culture, shaking the air with vibrant want for death-making. For the first time in my miserable existence on this earth, I felt the authoritative backing of true command. With just a whisk of my hand or point of my finger, I could bring about the fall of destinies and visit destruction upon those whom I wished.

How utterly euphoric.

Noticing Elma and some of the human villagers standing at the outcropping of the circle, I got nervous and muttered to Snik and Strosk to 'escort her' and the other humans back to the outer camp for now, until I could finish dealing with these Greenskins. I was utterly embarrassed to put on this display in front of the only woman whom I had any sort of real affection for.

"It'll be dun, War Boss!"

"How many fuckin' titles are you going to throw at me?"

"Man-thing! I am not your slave-slave to be beckoned! I will scout-spy on the green-thing settlement we will attack-kill!"

The Skaven assassin scampered off into the few shadows cast over the camp by the midday sun. I could already sense that I needed to establish a hierarchy of command once this attack went through, as my current list of confidants was not... ideal.

Waiting until Elma and the other humans were brought away from the speech by Strosk, I finally turned my eyes over the greentide of bristling unease and restless want for violence, speaking into action my first declaration of war.

"PREPARE YOOR WEAPONS AND LATCH ON YOOR ARMOR, WE'Z GOIN' 'TA WAR, BOYZ!"