All Novel Sweet
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The hornet was one of Gregory’s battle tactics. It involved splitting up the pack to spread out into individual duels with their opponents. The lighter trio of Gregory, Nullik and Frelki would then give their opponents the run-around whilst teaming up with their allies at opportune moments.Content property of NôvelDra/ma.Org.
Frun and Wrut immediately split up, and Gregory saw that Frun was left with one opponent whilst Wrut drew the alpha and his friend along with him.
“Dammit!” He grit his teeth whilst avoiding a swing from his own opponent and ducked underneath it before running toward Wrut at a full sprint.
The great thing about the hornet was that it relied on quick and powerful ambush attacks in order to work. So the club in his hands was actually suited for the task.
It also helped immensely when a greenish blur buzzed past the enemy alpha’s left flank and swung its club so hard into his ribs that he spun around on the spot.
Frelki had apparently not been put out of the match on that first charge.
Her presence lit a sliver of hope in Gregory’s chest as he picked up the pace and mirrored her attack on Wrut’s other opponent. He caught him hard against the orc’s hip and Wrut immediately took the distraction to bring down his huge club moments later to incapacitate the opponent.
“Fall in!” The dreadlocked alpha yelled out. Their opponents did exactly that and quickly retreated into a circular huddle.
“Dammit.” Gregory growled. They weren’t going to get many attacks of opportunity with their enemy so close together. “Rhino!”
At the call, The Runts shifted their own stances to settle in behind Frun in a small and tightly packed formation. They waited a beat, and Gregory saw the enemy alpha looking at him directly. The Runts each lifted one hand to each other’s shoulders and as a single unit they released three perfectly timed grunts to tune their pacing before charging right at the centre of their enemies huddle.
Wrut fell in immediately behind Frun with Gregory backing them up and Frelki taking the left flank. All of them stayed tight in a close formation that would normally have had Ulf at Gregory’s side and Nullik taking up the right. The traditional orcish charge would generally have been tactical suicide for them; but in such close quarters they could back each other up much easier.
The Rhino’s charge hit hard, but the enemy alpha moved quickly out of the way revealing a fairly wide open space in their centre.
“Shit!” Gregory yelled out as Frun practically gored an enemy pack member with the end of his long-club.
Despite that impact, and the successful takedown that followed, it was clear enough that their opponents had at least some appreciation for tactics over brute force. The hollow they had created in their formation seemingly at the last moment was immediately filled, and The Runts were then set upon from all sides.
There was nothing left to do but fight. Frun fell back in on Wrut’s armless flank to defend his friend, and Gregory teamed up with Frelki to try and hold the rear as best they could. By now they were outnumbered 5-4, and in such close quarters with her overly heavy weapon, Frelki was the first to go down. Their enemy then focused on Frun and he soon fell in a 3 on 1 engagement. After that it wasn’t long before Wrut was outflanked to hit the dirt.
This left Gregory alone in a circle of orcs, and he braced himself for another beating.
“Hold!”
It was the enemy alpha. He’d stopped and lowered his twin short-clubs. His pack-mates looked to him as if they couldn’t quite believe what he’d said, but then each in turn stepped back and lowered their weapons.
Unsure as to what to make of this, Gregory tactfully lowered his own short-club whilst keeping it tight in his grip. The alpha stood before him and took a step forward, he reached up over to the back of his head and loosed the tie that kept his dreadlocks at bay. The thick ropes of black hair spilled down around his face to his shoulders. Once that was done, he looked down to Gregory’s club before meeting his gaze.
“Where are the weapons you fought with before?” he asked in the usual blunt orcish fashion.
“We wanted to fight in the old way.” Gregory said.
Ulf had limped off to the exclusion zone of the pit where fallen fighters went to watch their packs. He’d been dutifully staring at his feet since he’d fallen, but this made him raise his head. The pits carried noise extremely well, and everyone in the place could hear the conversation happening in the middle of the sand.
“You are shit at fighting in the old way,” the alpha noted.
“My friend over there sent you spinning for a while.” Gregory cocked his thumb over his shoulder to where Frelki sat. “And we put one of your guys out.”
The alpha frowned at that, but seemed to be considering something else.
“I wanted to fight the pack that beat The Bear Claws. If I hold over this match, and ask for another in three days time, will they come here and fight us?”
Gregory wanted to yell hell yes! Instead, he turned around and looked toward where Ulf was sat watching them. His alpha curled his lip over his tusk, and then pointedly stood up before throwing down his clubs and storming out of the pits. The human shook his head and then looked back toward the rest of The Runts.
“What do you guys think?” he asked.
Each of them immediately stood and threw down their own clubs, but instead of marching away they balled their fists and growled at their opponents.
“I guess that means yes then.” Gregory turned back to the dreadlocked orc and nodded.
An eruption of murmurs went through the crowd. Did this mean that the human was now the alpha? Was it even allowed to stop a proving match in the middle of a bout? What the hell was wrong with the war chief’s son that he would abandon his pack like that?
All eyes then turned to Ulag.
The old, grizzled proving master had also been watching the exchange with seemingly distant curiosity. When both Gregory and Dreadlocks turned to look at him, he waited for a while as if weighing his options. It was after a tense few moments that he nodded his approval.