Skurz

Steady heartbeat. Slow echo in urban jungle. Twenty feet straight up cleared in three quick flips. Street lamp fading in distance. Bowstring relaxed, arrow ready. Target acquired.

...

I would kill him without hesitation or regret.

Skurz's excited grunts turned into a cruel smile on his face. Even as his home was being threatened, his Orcish blood boiled in this kind of combat. It had been a while since he visited the gladiatorial pits and fighting such an extensive battle with this mysterious new enemy provided him with a means to exercise himself like he had not done since the Darkest Day. He lobbed the corpse aside as the weapon that could have been called a mace in a former life pierced through to the other side. The bundle crashed hopelessly against a nearby wall and slumped to the floor.

Bringing his mace to bear, Skurz did the unthinkable. Summoning enough muscle control in his mangled hand to do so, he lobbed his weapon into the bloodied mess and managed to catch it. He would attempt to divert the hammer from its preordained path by grabbing at its handle. By doing so, he would open the wolf-man to a merciless beating from the black mace.

If he failed to do so, Skurz had a different idea altogether...

A noble woman.

I think that if Kazhor Kazaag doesn't become a 'thing,' imma scream.

@Amaranth_Strix:

Op, never mind :o

@RumbleMan_Exe:

High there sleepy head :3

@614azrael:

<3

I guess this is a thing now ._.

Even though we haven't met, I don't like it.

The wolf-man continued to insist on using the blunted and distorted mace as well as the war hammer he had neglected to use until now. A ghoul managed to sneak up on the Orc king during his analysis of the situation and with a pair of vice-like arms squeezed down on the raw muscle of the mighty Orc's arm as well as impaled his feet into the floor to secure Skurz in place and prevent him from defending against at least half of the incoming attacks. In theory this would have resulted in Skurz losing the battle and falling into a bloody mangled heap. In practice, however, Orcs are capable of many surprises.

Firstly, Skurz began to tense his muscles in preparation for what he was about to do. A steady increase in draw strength would only alert the ghoul to his intentions. When all was in place, he only had a second to initiate the counterattack. He tore the ghoul not only from his roots but also from his legs. In a bloody arc accented with the creature's intestines following the motion of the defensive swing, Skurz placed him as a meat shield against the incoming stabbing attacks. The clay mask did not detach during this time, so the mace and pick on the hammer stuck perfectly in the semi-alive flesh. Only after the weapons would impale through to the other side would the mask fall away and Skurz throw the disheveled corpse aside, thereby disarming the wolf-man if the defensive maneuver proved successful.

Skurz would continue to fight defensively no longer after such an event and he would attempt to crush his foe's head into the floor with his black mace in one bone-crunching strike.

---

All of this one scenario played out in the Orc king's mind like the smoke-readings of his most trusted shamans. Yet he prepared for error where he needed to, such as if he was too slow in stopping the mace and war-pick from piercing his hide then he would make sure it was his chest and not his head. Then, using the ghoul holding him in place as a crude bludgeoning weapon, he would use it to distract the wolf-man from the black mace heading to sweep him under its mighty razor-sharp edges. He was ready to take the pain where he needed it, because even the most horrendous of injuries provided him a way to disorient his foe by appearing to come back from the dead. Skurz had not been king of the brutal Orc race for so long for no reason.