Whether I wanted to or not, the ever-growing horde of orcs carried me away as part of the mob, hoots and roars echoing all over the place. I couldn’t help but feel a little grateful for the thickness of the crowd; made it a lot easier to ignore the nakedness of everyone if I couldn’t actually see anything below the chest. My body was still pumped and cheering along the crowd automatically, allowing me more time to think in . . . relative quiet, I guess.

A couple of things were more obvious now that I was in the middle of the horde. Most obviously of all, was how different my body was from the other orcs. I still had muscles galore, and even without a mirror I could tell I looked much like the other teethy, angrily excited orcs around, but I was . . . taller? No, that wasn’t quite right, not completely. My posture was different for one; I was holding myself up straighter than the other orc boys. And, judging by what my hands could feel, my neck was slightly, off, at least for an orc. The other orcs around me had their heads and necks more forward on their bodies which, combined with their more forward leaning posture, gave them more of a hunch-backed look. My neck, it seemed, was higher up on my body for whatever biological reason; maybe a mutation while my body matured inside the fruit?

Those two details combined meant I was a head taller than the other orcs, and I could already tell some of the brighter ones had noticed, given some odd looks thrown my way. Maybe if I hadn’t kicked that first orc, the group of clothed orcs may have done something to me? The thought made me shudder; I suspected that orcs didn’t do ‘nice’ things to other orcs given what I knew about the different types. At least these didn’t seem like the cannibal sort.

My thoughts were broken when glints of reflected light in the distance caught my eye. We’d started out in some kind of forested canyon and cave system, and it seemed we were approaching a camp of some sort. Size-wise, it probably would have been better to call it a small settlement or outpost, but with how shoddily the buildings and huts appeared to be, camp was the better descriptor.

“OYY!” a sudden voice shouted from a watchtower, somehow projecting loud enough to be heard over the raucous horde. “YOU LOT OF GROTS, LISTEN UP! MOVE THROUGH DA CAMP WITHOUT SHOVVIN! YA BOYZ WILL BE GIVIN CLOTHES, A GUNZ, AND A SLASHA, BUT ANYTHING ELSE YA NEED TO PAY FOR WITH TEETH OR CLAWS! PAST DA CAMP, DERE’S A BIG FIGHT YOUZ CAN JOIN IN WITH DA BIG BOSS, RAGDAR GUTRIPPA! GET OUT DERE AND GIVE EM A SMASHING! WWWAAAAARRRR!”

“Waaarrrr!” went the crowd, and my body automatically. Seriously though, will this be an ongoing thing, or will I ever get control of my body?

My inner grumblings aside, for a ragtag group of orcs, they seemed to have their logistics surprisingly down. The camp had three lanes formed by the tents and huts, forcing the horde to break up and slow down. As orcs passed through, older and more scarred orcs shoved, threw, and pushed clothed, guns, ammo, and all kinds of sharp weapons into passing hands: swords, cleavers, knives, and axes.

Keeping myself to farther to the back of the line, I watched the older orcs carefully. If I was going to survive in this place, I needed as much information as I possibly could get. Like the announcer had shouted out, it looked like the older orcs were exchanging . . . orc teeth and nails, for pretty much everything. That really was their currency, huh?

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Idly, my eyes turned back to the group of newborn orcs around me. The slowing of the horde had brought on increased agitation, and noticed several brawls underway already between the newcomers. Subtly, I made my way over and silently collected the punched-out teeth as the fights either broke up naturally, or were broken up by some of the older orcs forcing their way into the fight. Annoyingly, I didn’t have anything to carry the teeth except my hands, and . . .

Holding back a sense of disgust, I began putting teeth into my mouth. Thankfully, it appeared orcs lacked tastebuds, but the feeling and texture of the teeth was a bit unnerving. I’d just managed to snag a few more teeth, when I noticed someone watching me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a smaller newborn orc watching me with a tilt of their head. In their hand, they held several teeth as well, though it didn’t seem like they understood the reason for collecting them. Was that orc, copying me?

“Oy, quit skivving around you lot!” Came the angry growl of an older orc from behind me. “Get a move on already!”

It seemed the lines had moved on while I’d been distracted collecting teeth. Not wanting to draw more attention to myself, I joined the throng of orcs making up the rear and entered the camp. Notably, the smaller orc that had copied me had moved over to right behind me. I didn’t bother saying anything.

As the line moved through the camp, I maneuvered my way over to the far left of the group, closer to the stalls. One of the older orcs threw me a set of clothes without saying anything, and I quickly put on the shirt, pants, belt, and shoes. Thankfully, the pants appeared to have been made with pockets, allowing me to dump out the teeth from my mouth and hands into them.

Moving further down the line, some kind of assault rifle and ammo was shoved into my hand, complete with strap to put around my body. Soon after, a long, thick cleaver was thrown at me from someone else; luckily, I caught it before it sliced into me. A couple of orcs ahead of me hadn’t even bother taking their ‘new slashas’ out of the bodies as they hooted in excitement.

I soon reached the end of the camp, but instead of following the horde I turned back and walked over to one of the tents not giving out equipment. One of the older orcs turned to face me as I approached, a permanent scowl on his face as he eyed me with annoyance.

“Wot ya want git?” He asked me, which somehow seemed more polite that it sounded. “Ya got your gunz and slasha; we ain’t givin ya anything else.”

“I gots teeth,” I grunted out, reaching into my pockets and slapping the teeth I’d collected onto the table separating us. “I want more to get ta fightin wit.”

The older orc eyed me with, surprise, I think. He reached down and took one of the teeth before biting it. He nodded. “Huh, youz a smart one huh? Maybe a new tech boy? You make it back afta ya first fight, I might hav’a job for ya.”

I shrugged, not know what the other orc was talking about.

He clicked his tongue at me before leaning down to rummage through something I couldn’t see.

“‘ere,” the older orc grumbled, slapping a basic looking helmet and what looked like a metal vest onto the table. “Ya ain’t got much, but this bout right for what ya got.” He looked me up and down for a moment. “Dis vest ain’t built for wierdos like you, but betta den nothin. Helmet outta help too.”

I nodded and put on the new vest and helmet.

“Good enough,” the other orc grunted. “Now, stop skivving around and git out dere to fight like a right, proper orc! Wwaarr!”

“Wwaaarrr!” I shouted back, turning to leave. I almost bumped into another orc, who managed to dodge around me and walk up the tent. I noted it was the smaller orc from earlier, who was now handing over the teeth they’d collected as well. I didn’t hear what the older orc said, but I did manage to see him pass over a helmet before I lost sight of them.

Putting the episode behind me, I walked forward alongside the other excited newborn orcs, towards my first fight.