Almost immediately, several dozen orcs took to their feet. Many were not exactly shining examples of orc power, and the similarities in their smaller statures were immediately noticed. Several growls of discontent arose at the obvious show of dishonour. Challenging orcs who were clearly so much weaker was not Looked upon fondly by the orc nation.

Realising that he'd been had, Rolk snarled at those who stood, but before he could speak again, Grolfir himself raised to his feet. He did not Look remotely pleased.

“It is no small thing for a pup to ask a challenge, Gregory Hopkins.”

The huge warchief gave the human a thunderous look of disapproval, before turning toward Rolk at which point the thunder turned to lightning.

“But neither is it acceptable for a damned pup to behave in such a way, Rolk Stormbane. I shall grant this request to put a swift end to the matter. Do you accept the challenge?”

Rolk growled with loathing for the human, but had little choice if he ever wanted to be able to show his face in orc society again.

“I accept." He pointedly bashed his club against the ground to select his weapon of choice and turned to face Gregory.

"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!" Janette whispered to herself, sinking her head into her hands in disbelief.

“Just when I think he can't get any crazier he goes and picks a fight with The Incredible Hulk."

“I will take all that you have!" Rolk roared before once again setting into a heavy charge.

Gregory Lifted his shield and set his feet in the sand; looking on at the muscular monstrosity charging in an attempt to presumably tear him limb from Limb. He broke into his own charge, eliciting quite a few gasps from their audience. It had looked extremely foolhardy for the smaller human to charge like that even with a number of orcs at his back. Doing it by himself seemed downright insane.

As the moment of contact grew nearer, Gregory lifted his bat into the air behind him to prepare for a huge swing whilst lifting his shield as if ready to take the full impact head-on. Rolk responded with a bloodthirsty gleam in his eyes, lifting his own club up above his head to crush the human in a single blow.

So it came as quite the surprise when Gregory disappeared.

At least, that's what it looked like to Rolk as he swung his club at empty air. In fact, Gregory had not been stupid enough pick a fight with a steamroller, and instead had fallen at the Last minute to slide across the sand and wedge his shield in front of Rolk's feet. The manoeuvre couldn't have worked better if Gregory had fired his enemy from a damned cannon, as Rolk's charge combined with his feet being suddenly taken from beneath him sent the huge orc flying spectacularly through the air.

His club landed on the ground first, and it was soon followed by his head which connected against his own weapon with a sickening crack.

Gregory was back on his feet in moments, but it no longer mattered.

Rolk landed with his back in the sand, utterly unconscious by the time his feet hit the ground.

Standing back at his full height, Gregory looked over to Grolfir and

Ulag for confirmation of the victory. Grolfir nodded and went to retake his seat whilst Ulag took his place on the edge of the viewing box.

“The Runts claim victory over The Berserkers!"