These beasts would never simply charge into the path of a fierce predator… unless a fiercer predator was chasing them.


"Wait! Wait! Attack!" you shout.


"What?" Duggin asks, annoyed as your outburst causes him to miss a shot.


"There's something chasing the beasts!"


Duggin raises an eyebrow, before barking out an order. The hunters quickly rearrange formation, just as a horde of Greenskins charge out of the trees with a fierce roar. A burst of spears and arrows flies out from your allies, but the orks take them in their stride. Arrows imbed themselves into their chest and arms, but they don't go down. Spears jab forward, metal points finding the softest parts of the thick green skin, sinking deep with a spurt of blood. There's about two dozen, as many as you, but they can take more punishment. You're outnumbered, but thanks to your forethought and your tiny amount of preparation, you have a chance. You still find yourself useless in the upcoming battle, but it lasts only a few minutes. You watch as blood is shed, limbs are hacked off and puk are struck down. You use what little might you have to cling onto the puk, only barely stopping yourself from falling off. You close your eyes, and wait. Eventually, Duggin calls you.


"Karth! It's over!" he says.


You open your eyes, and survey the carnage. Bodies litter the earth, green and tan, lean and muscled, big and small. You've lost half your hunters in a single attack, but the rest of you have survived with few wounds. When orks strikes land, they kill, not wound. 


"Men, we need to check on the Azajaja boys!" Duggin yells. 


He rides forward, towards the Azajaja camp, deep in the trees. You cling to the puk, looking through the trees as you approach their camp. It's in ruins. Tents have been torn apart, set alight and entirely wiped out. Bodies cover the ground, and you see the last few remnants of the Azajaja struggling to fight off the approaching Orks. Most are naked, still refusing to pick up your tactic of not going into battle with their dicks flapping in the breeze or their breasts hanging, as well as being one of the more idiotic tribes not to take on clothing at all, unlike yours.


"Idiots," you mutter to yourself.


Duggin raises his spear and charges forward, the puk bursting forward as you struggle to hold on. Why couldn't the idiot have left you at home?! Your allies attack with rage and speed, smashing into the orks from behind. There's a short, brutal fight, before you see an ork charging towards you, swinging his axe.


"Duggin!" you yell, pointing at the ork. 


Duggin turns, but he's not fast enough. The ork's weapon smashes into your puk, cutting through flesh and beheading him in a single blow. You're sent flying as the puk collapses suddenly, smashing into the cold earth. You let out a pained yell, before opening your hazy eyes, only to find yourself in the centre of the remaining Azajaja survivors, which only consist of half a dozen warriors, a number that's constantly dropping as the Orks charge once more, as well as two dozen civilians hastily armed with weapons. Suddenly, a small, goblin-like creature, a Gretchen, scampers through the warriors' line, carrying a small knife fashioned from a large stone, who lets out a chuckle as he spots you and lets out a terrifying grin. You need to do something, fast.

You attack it

You grab a rock, swinging it forward and smashing it into the side of the Gretchen's face. It smacks into the ground, and you climb atop it and smack it into the creature's skull again and again. The Gretchen's head is crushed, and you let out a relieved sigh. The relief is short-lived, though, as the orks continue to charge forward, swinging hastily-made weapons. The number of Azajaja survivors grows much smaller, as your tribesmen attempt to rescue both them and you whilst surviving the onslaught of Greenskin, but there's just too many. Hands grab your shoulders and pull you up, just out of the path of an oncoming spear. You turn, to see the face of a young girl, barely older than you, holding a spear with a terrified look on her face. You blush as you realize she's naked, before chiding yourself for having such an immature thought while people are charging to kill you. You hear a roar, and turn back to see an ork charging forward. He sees you, raising his axe.

You crawl away

You scamper backward, before the creature charges toward you with its blade. You grab the earth, your frail strength still managing to pull your light body away, but the ork swings, the blade sinking into your shoulder, cutting through bone and flesh with ease. You let out a yell, as blood stains the ground.