Ghuzrod Sunrekka Becomes Da Biggest 'n Smartest!

I couldn't help but grin as I looked out over the growing wall of trophies I had accumulated from my fights. One bunnicorn skull was present and though there would have been a second one, its face was bashed in too much to be worth displaying. There was also a couple of fish skeletons, and the prize of my wall so far, the skull of the enormous frog that had so rudely attempted to eat me.

Pig Sticka had also received an upgrade, courtesy of the crude forge I had managed to get going out in the fort’s yard. It had likely been a proper forge with bellows and everything at one point but none of that extra stuff remained. Enough remained that I was able to extend my simple knife into a short sword complete with a studded handguard that would make punching extra good.

I had also managed to dry the frog’s hide and turn it into some rather crude leather pants. I didn't think its skin would be worth much, but it was actually surprisingly tough. As soon as the mucous was cleaned off, the flesh shriveled, becoming like tanned leather with minimal working necessary. The pants themselves were loose, with enough room to grow, while also being tough enough to take a grazing swipe from Pig Sticka.

After securing them with a belt I had made from some plant fiber, I nodded to no one in particular and stepped outside. Looking around I noticed that it was early evening, with the sun slowly setting in the distance. A part of me wanted to locate Ponyville and potentially hit up the main six but I brushed that aside for the moment.

I needed to get meaner, and greener, real quick. I also needed to get an army, but first thing was first, I had to become a full-blown ork boy, preferably the size of a nob, or else any potential spawn I may have wouldn't even listen to me in the first place.

“Right den, let's go kill us someth'n big an angry. I need me a fight, and I need one right quick like,” I declared.

Stomping off into the woods, I was about to head back to the swamp, only to think of that creepy bunny. Choosing instead another random direction, I found myself quickly becoming swallowed up by the deep, dark forest. Though the shadows closed in around me, I felt no fear, and crept along, knife in hand, back bent, and body low to the ground.

I was getting pretty big, but I was still sneaky, as evidenced by all the startled forest life I bumped into. From squirrels to a pair of lounging raccoons, no one seemed to see me coming until I was only a few feet away. Spooking the critters and making them sprint off into the bush was amusing, but didn't help me much so I restrained that urge from then on.

Almost an hour later I was ready to pick another direction when I stumbled into a small clearing. Though there were plenty of trees, they were all very tall, and lacking branches that weren't at least thirty feet off the ground. It was a forest of towering trunks, with almost no bushes present and only a short grass that came up to almost my chin.

I wasn't alone, however, and I ducked low when I spotted what looked to be a timberwolf standing only a few feet away. He wasn't moving, so I snuck up behind him, Pig Sticka raised high in the air, though I never ended up bringing the weapon back down. Instead, I walked up the rest of the way and did what any ork would do when they were confused, I poked something with my finger.

“It's a rock,” I muttered.

My eyes went wide and I fell into a low stance, gaze sweeping left and right.

“Cockatrice,” I murmured.

Sure enough, now that I knew what kind of situation I was in, I noticed that there were a bunch of other statues littered all over the place. Owls, snakes, a wolverine, a handful of birds near a porcupine, and even a young bear were all turned to stone. Though perhaps the most numerous were the many short rabbit-looking critters that sported antlers like that of a deer.

“Jackalopes?” I whispered aloud.

There was a whole bunch of the things and each one seemed to be either mid headbut or other attack. Clearly, these little buggers were territorial and held no fear about fighting a cockatrice which was kinda crazy. I brushed aside the strange critters and considered if I was really going to fight a magical creature so early on in my development.

“Uv kourse I am. I ain't no runt no more,” I declared to myself.

With my confidence buoyed by Orkish bravado, I looked around, attempting to locate the cockatrice in question. I found him chewing on a half-eaten statue of a petrified jackalope across the clearing. He hadn't noticed me yet, as he was idly pecking at the thing, taking breaks to chew loudly on the pieces of stone he managed to chip off.

Sneaking up behind him, I briefly considered backing out, going back to base, and painting my pants purple. Though it was the sneakiest color, I didn't have any paint, so I tossed that idea aside. With my body low, and my pace slow, I weaved around the various statues until I was directly behind the cocatrice.

There I sat quietly, waiting for him to lean down and pick another chunk of stone from the ground. A few seconds later he did just that, giving me the opening I needed to charge in, Pig Sticka raised high over my head. The surprise was complete, though I kinda wasted the advantage by screaming ‘Waaaaaugh’ at the top of my lungs.

Though I had ruined the element of surprise, I traded it for startlingly him enough that he was left open. However, rather than burying my knife in the back of his head, he moved just out of the way enough that I lopped off one of his wings. The scaly chicken with the a single leathery appendage cried out like a rooster, stumbling back and flapping its one remaining wing.

“Stupid bird. I'z gonna chop yer up gud,” I muttered to myself.

I was about to go in for another swipe when I made the mistake of looking the stupid thing in the eye. Though I swiftly looked away, the damage was done, and my knife arm was quickly turning to stone. The feeling left my fingers a moment later, and Pig Sticka fell from my grip, the petrification creeping up from my elbow all the way to my wrist.

Even as quick as it was, the petrification wasn't as fast as in the show, and the bird seemed to notice this as well as it let out an irritated snort. Despite that, I still had only a few seconds to kill the blasted thing before I was turned to stone, so I had to move with great haste. My first thought was to grab Pig Sticka with my free hand but I ignored that, and simply raised my now mostly stone limb.

My foe’s confused expression vanished the moment I used my numb limb like a club, bludgeoning it in the side of the head. It tried to look me in the eye, but a second smack sent its gaze downward, causing my left leg to start turning to stone as well. It tried again almost immediately but by then I had fallen into a rhythm of bashing my arm against its face.

Left, right, left right, the bird’s beak shattered, and one eyeball became a crushed mass of flesh, the damage quickly stacking up. It tried to use its tail in a desperate attempt to slam the appendage into my chest and stop my attacks, but I simply took it without flinching. It was battered, bruised, and damaged, but the petrification of my leg and arm was nearing my hip and shoulder.

Thankfully the tail swipe had left it open, and with a final strike, I brought my stone fist down on the top of its head, crushing its skull. Wet brains and fresh blood shot out of the mangled stump, the creature’s body wavering from side to side before falling to the ground. There it lay twitching for several seconds before finally falling still.

The moment this happened, the petrification reversed ten times as quickly as it had progressed, quickly receding into nothing.

“Stupid bird,” I muttered.

While I picked up Pig Sticka and wondered what I wanted to do with the cockatrice’s corpse, I noticed something strange. The other statues were beginning to come to life again, with the color slowly returning to their forms. The littlest creatures were first, the various snakes, small birds, or other tiny mammals taking off into the woods.

I grabbed the cockatrice’s corpse and ran over to a tree, avoiding the mad stampede of confused creatures as they took off in all directions. No one attacked one another, with even the wolves, timber or otherwise, simply too confused to do anything but run. Which was good because the feeling still hadn't returned to my arm or leg so I wasn't keen on another big fight so soon. Doubly so since there was a bear that was twice my size and the rest of the predators weren't too far behind him in the bulk department.

In only a few short seconds the clearing was well, almost clear though it was about then that I noticed that the jackalopes were starting to unfreeze. They must have been the last ones to get petrified because they were all slowly coming to at about the same time. Including the one missing most of its head and one leg, who immediately started gurgling and hopping at me.

“Ew, stay away from me ya gross fing,” I muttered.

I tried to use Pig Sticka to keep it at bay but my arm was still half numb so it stumbled past my reach and weakly slapped against my chest. It died immediately after but not before getting its weird bright blue blood all over my brand-new pants. As I was whining about this change of fortune, the rest of the jackalopes turned to me in near-perfect unison.

“Oh no,” I muttered.

The thirteen or so jackalopes came charging at me, the wee buggers lowering their horns in an attempt to gore me. Though they came up to just past my crotch, they were surprisingly sturdy-looking things that I didn't want to test. Unfortunately, they wanted to test me and charged at me despite my hasty cries of innocence.

“Ahh zogg it. I was look'n for a gud scrap anyway,” I announced before raising Pig Sticka high. “Waaaaaaaaaugh!”

Apparently, they were not prepared for me to meet their charge with one of my own, as the first jackalope had his brains spilled everywhere before he had a chance to blink. As his lifeless corpse hit the ground I spun on the closest critter and grabbed his horns with my free hand. I then brought Pig Sticka down on his neck with enough force to free his head from his shoulders and empty the contents of his heart onto the forest floor.

At that point, the melee became incredibly confusing, as I got slammed in the back by a jackalope. As he was getting back up for another slam attempt I turned and slashed his belly open only to get hit from the side. I tried to hit back, but they were pummelling me from all angles with a relentless barrage of blunt horns and bitter fury.

I lost myself to the chaos of the fight, swinging at anything that moved and wracking up more injuries than I could count. Bruises became so numerous that they covered me like a second skin, and about at the midway point one of the jackalopes managed to break my leg. I cut him from shoulder to crotch and was ready to attack another when a jackalope hit my free arm with enough force to knock it from its socket.

With Pig Sticka still held tight I hacked, whacked, and chopped until finally nothing was moving except for me. It was at this point that I realized just how close the fight was, as a pile of bodies surrounded me while everything from my neck down ached something fierce. I grabbed my arm and popped it back into place before raising my arms above my head and releasing a cry of victory.

“Waaaaaaaaaaugh!” I bellowed.

Banging the flat of my blade against my chest, I screamed until my lungs threatened to give out. Then I sat back and waited for the strange sensation to heal the rest of my injuries. Just after it had finished and I was ready to start dragging away my kills, I began to feel oddly heavy for some reason. Tiredness overcame me for the first time, though I fended it off long enough to gather up the majority of the bodies.

I then hauled the armload of mutilated corpses to a small out of the thicket of trees, dumping them in a bush so I could come back for them later. I only bothered bringing the cocatrice’s body back with me, as I was too exhausted to drag the rest at the moment. I wanted to cook him up but the tiredness was becoming overwhelming so I slunk back to my sitting spot. Plunking down, I closed my eyes, but couldn't get comfortable.

Following my urges, I began to dig down into the soft earth with just my fingers. I don't know why I was doing this but for some reason, I knew it was something I simply had to do. Even the earth collapsing above me and burying me completely didn't bother me and in fact, felt oddly pleasant.

After a bit of wiggling, I curled into a ball and for the first time fell completely and utterly to sleep.