I was continually dragged along Gorblitz, his hand griping me like a vice. The other Orks followed, their heavy footsteps thudding against the ground. I stumbled along, trying to keep up, my new body still feeling alien and unwieldy.
As we approached 'Da Pitz', the camp's cacophony seemed to grow louder. The clanging of metal, the roars of the crowd, and deep guttural screams filled the air. The entrance loomed ahead, a massive structure cobbled together from scrap and debris. The words "DA PITZ" were scrawled in red above the entrance, each letter uneven and dripping.
As I was dragged through the cobbled makeshift entrance, I could finally put a face to the loud chaos. Orks of all sizes were engaged in brutal combat, their movements raw and powerful. The ground was littered with debris; broken weapons, discarded armour, and the occasional carcass of the strange red creatures. The air was thick with the smell of dirt and rust.
Gorblitz shoved me forward, and I found myself on the stands just outside the arena. The other Orks that followed stood just behind me, their eyes gleaming with anticipation. I could feel their gaze on my back, as they watched my every move.
I took a deep breath, feeling the raw energy of the place seep into my bones. This was my new reality, a world of chaos and brutality. I had to survive, adapt, and find a way to turn this curse into a weapon.
The carnage in front of me was like nothing I had ever seen, I was never a big fan of sports either way but this was beyond anything in my old world. Even movies balked in comparison to this slaughter. Huge hulking figures tearing into each other... What was strange was that there was no real method to the madness, it was just madness. Orks that were helping each other out just moments before were stabbing each other in the back, and Orks that were just ripping into one another teamed up to take down bigger Orks before turning back against one another. There was truly no rationality whatsoever, and the real kicker was... They all seemed to be enjoying it.
This was the biggest display of pure vulgarity that I had ever seen and I had one person to blame for it. The self-proclaimed 'God'. There was no God here, that was for sure, there could be no grand creator that played any sort of hand in this. Well no benevolent one that was for sure. With my head on a swivel I looked around hoping to gain a better understanding of the situation, along with hoping to draw a relevant idea of the size and spectacle of the arena. One thing amongst the chaos stood out, to my right and multiple stories up within the arena's seating was a throne of sorts. It seemed empty, but someone must sit there. 'Usually thrones like that in colosseums were reserved for the ruling class' I thought to myself.
With a few other sweeping gazes I didn't find anything of particular note. It was just a very large arena with a bunch of rambunctious hooligans bashing into each other, and it would soon be my turn. But these brand of Orks seemed much larger than myself, I assumed I'd be fighting one on one with another 'Yoof'. I wasn't exactly sure what a 'Yoof' was but I was pretty sure it was their version of an unbloodied fighter. These Orks seemed to live an extreme martial society favouring fighting above all else. I suppose that's why I was as soon as I emerged from my pod. Turning around back towards the entrance I peered through and saw a similar sight. Smaller Orks emerging from the ground only to get smacked around by a larger Ork then for them to get dragged towards an entrance of 'Da Pitz'.
Turning back towards the arena I began to look out for fellow Orks around my size and saw quite a few around the edge with a similar sized Ork to Gorblitz presiding over them. I now understood, it was a true proving ground and the larger ones seemed to be in charge of the smaller Orks. With what Gorblitz mentioned earlier it seemed as though I would have to fight one of these smaller Orks in combat, I was still clumsy in this body and that posed a distinct disadvantage. I hoped that these new-borns like me were just as clumsy and unaware of the situation as they was in. Hoping to get a better look at them I spotted the Ork that had just been plucked from the ground like a potato enter into the outskirts. Where I expected to see a confused and bumbling beefcake I instead saw an excited and energetic beast. Like a toddler getting ready to be unleashed into a ball pit.
It was then that the current fight began to reach its fever pitch. Two Orks remained as they eyed each other covered in either their own blood or the blood of the Orks that lay around them. I noticed that the defeated Orks were still breathing despite hideous wounds, none of them seemed to whimper either, they simply accepted their defeat and lay around in either a stupor or were genuinely unconscious. It was then that the two began to charge at each other letting out a guttural yell that had the entire arena yelling along with them, it came to a resounding "WAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" that caused my blood to boil and ripped something out of me that I didn't even know existed. Before I even realised it, I too was screaming out in delight along with my fellow Ork Brethren. What was happening to me... Whatever it was, I was starting to... Enjoy it?
Muscles clashed against muscle and rusted iron against flesh, the two Orks battle ferociously and with an intensity that I had never seen. There was no real strategy employed whatsoever, it was pure brute force against brute force. This caused me to frown, there was so much potential being missed here if they were to just strategize for a moment before rushing in. While I was no expert on fighting by any stretch of the imagination I could think of a good few ways in which using their immense strength and leverage would massively increase their capability in battle.
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
After another clash there was a lull in the fighting the two Orks circled each other, their breaths coming in heavy, ragged gasps. The crowd's roars grew louder, urging them on. The larger one charged again, his club raised high, but the smaller one was ready. He sidestepped the attack and brought two axes down in a brutal overhead strike.
The larger Ork bellowed in anger as the axes bit deep into his back, but he didn't fall. The endurance of these beasts were immense, it just took two huge axes to the body and barely flinched, retaliating in anger rather than pain. With a wide arc the larger Ork swung a club horizontally at the torso, the overcommitted Ork was swatted aside several meters as their chest appeared to have caved in. With a none-committal grunt it rose back to its feet and snarled at the larger beast two axes in hand.
They both charged screaming as they did so. The larger ork fired another large arcing strike towards the smaller ork who in return raised their axe hoping to block it and swung with their off-hand axe. Unfortunately it did not work out well for the smaller Ork. The club smashed into the haft breaking it in half and continuing into the side of the Ork, collapsing the other side of its chest. fortunately the axe did fall upon its suspecting target and struck the large Ork directly in the skull. Yet, it didn't crack the Orks skull, instead leaving a mean looking gash that reached from the top of his head to his oversized nose.
The crowd erupted in a frenzy of cheers and shouts as the Ork stood victorious, blood dripping from his wounds. He raised his club high, roaring in triumph, while the other Orks pounded their chests and bellowed their approval. It was a brutal display of pure strength and it both excited and sickened me to my very core. The time was almost upon me, the larger Ork showboated around the arena proclaiming its superiority. For a moment I could have sworn the Ork was slightly larger than before, ever so slightly. It's muscles bulged harder and he swung the club with more ferocity, this caused my brow to furrow... This required more experimentation and observation.
The crowd went wild with obscenities as the large Ork screamed outwards, they loved the show it seemed. However, in just a moment the entire arena went silent. Even the large Ork in the centre stopped his show-boating as he turned to look upwards, a look of pure veneration had overtaken his previous fervour. Following the gaze of the Ork I found exactly what it was looking at and why the entire crowd went silent.
Passing through the elaborate entrance by the Throne was an Ork larger than anything I'd seen so far and any person he'd ever seen. This beast was the size of a car, almost nine feet tall it carried a hammer larger than me. By its side was one of the red creatures wearing a hat reminiscent to that Napoleon wore in paintings. His jaw hung open and slack as a loud beating began to be heard from the entire arena. The Orks were slamming their legs against the ground, creating a rhythmic thunder that echoed across the whole camp.
After a couple of minutes the large Ork held up a single clawed fist, it was strange and mechanical as if he had mechanical claws for fingers. It looked immensely powerful and dangerous, and it silenced the entire crowd. After a few moments of revelling in it all the largest of all Orks finally spoke. "G'DAY LADZ! LOOKS LIKE WE'VE GOT SOME YOOFS READY TO BE TESTED!" he spoke with such cadence that it rumbled the entire arena as he spoke. It even began to rumble my very being, I was being swept up in the ork fever. With a deep breath I shook my head trying to reign my mind back to rationality. The orks around him had no inclination and instead bellowed their approval to the Boss. "WELL THEN, WHOSE FIRST?!"
A few of the larger Orks pushed their newbloods into the arena, thankfully Gorblitz hadn't done so yet. Turning back to meet his eyes he shook his head and let out a grunt, taking that as the reprieve it was I smiled inwardly. Turning back to the arena he watched as two Orks moved towards the centre of the arena, snarling at one another. They had no weapons in hand and seemed too dumb to pick up any of the ones that lay strewn across the arena. "START!" The largest Ork scream out, the voice was so loud that it almost deafened me. If not for my enhanced physiology I wouldn't be surprised if it would have burst my ear drums.
The first Ork, slightly greener and more muscular, had a wild look in his eyes. He bared his teeth and let out a guttural growl, flexing his newly formed muscles. The second Ork, though smaller, had a fierce determination in his gaze. He clenched his fists, ready to fight.
Without any warning, the larger Ork lunged forward, swinging a heavy fist at his opponent. The smaller Ork ducked just in time, the punch whistling past his head. He retaliated with a quick jab to the larger Ork's midsection, causing him to grunt in pain.
The fight quickly escalated into a flurry of punches and kicks. The larger Ork used his size and strength to his advantage, trying to overpower his opponent with brute force. The smaller Ork, however, was faster and more agile, dodging blows and landing quick strikes.
The crowd's roars grew louder with each hit, the air thick with the smell of sweat and the sound of flesh hitting flesh. The larger Ork managed to grab the smaller one by the arm, lifting him off the ground and slamming him down with a bone-rattling thud.
I was wrong, these Orks weren't the bumbling newbies that I thought they would be, they fought with just as much ferocity as the other Orks. It was as if these creatures had battle and war directly baked into their DNA, so much so that they are ready to fight as soon as they were born. How am I supposed to compete with this?
The larger Ork continually pounded the smaller one into the dirt, over and over again until eventually the larger Ork ripped the arm of the smaller one clean from its Torso. For the first time I heard a cry of pain from an Ork, it did truly look agonising and even then, the cry was barely noticeable from where he stood. However, the smaller Ork did not give in and continued the fight. Climbing back to its knees he leaped forwards, the larger Ork wielding the arm of the smaller one back