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[chars][reserve]Da Boyz

Submitted By: Date: September 28, 2005, 08:36:02 AM Views: 682
Summary: The ‘uman’s big guns blasted entire trukk sized chunks out of the side of the ‘uman buildings as Boss Grakka’s [i](dat’s me)[/i] host of green skinned Nobz marched down the battle torn streets. Da Boss’ bodyguard consisted of the tribe’s biggest meanest orks, the most proper of the Boss’ boyz. None of the Nobz really minded the constant booming from ‘uman artillery, the orks moving into the city were too busy running down the last of the ‘uman defenders, and most of the big guns were fixed on killing them.

Grakka and his gang would usually be on the front of a charge, it’s just proper Ork fashion, and against a proper Ork enemy Grakka could find his rival Boss ready to meet him, but they weren’t fighting Orks, they were fighting weedy ‘umans, and Grakka and his Nobz were busy tracking down the weedy Colonel that had run off, leaving his boyz behind. Grakka and the Nobz were angry that this weedy non-Ork had taken them away from all the good fighting, and doubly so for making them chase him this far.

“Why do dem ‘uman build such big buildin, dey know we gonna Waagh an’ stoop dem all flat again.” Big Boy was Grakka’s attack squig, a big muscle bound Ork, slow witted but deadly with any sort of weapon. (Big Boy runz off two commandz, “gettum boy” and “Stop gettinum boy.”)

“Cuz dey be stupid—”

“And pink.”

The Twins, Grim and Gull, Orks spawning from the same embryo usually result in weak small unorky youths, which rarely survive in the tribe. Grim and Gull are exceptions to this trait, being that their aggression and constant fighting with each other lead them to grow fast and learn quick, qualities essential for any Ork to survive. Interrupting Grim got Gull a good thwack on the skull, to which Gull responded with a prod from his choppa, the bickering continued until Grakka stepped in a pounded their heads together. (Dem good propa Orks, only problem iz you neva know who iz who. I think Grim is da one with da hair…maybe dats Gull.)

Three war buggies zinged down the street towards the fighting, the gunners yelling and taunting the Nobz as they passed. Skraga grimaced his teeth and spat a large green loogy at them and took a large swig of his freshly looted barrel of ‘uman rum, a barrel with the label “Gasoline” written on its side.

“Des ‘uman’s couldn’t brew a propa ale if you squeezed the squig for dem. Damned ‘uman can’t do nuffon right.” Skraga took another swig and caught up with his comrades. (Skraga become a better fighta with every drink he has, so I make sure he has all da ale he needz before a fight.)

Grakka remained silent, scanning the streets for any sign that he was going in the right direction. Bad Grub flanked Grakka on his left, his power klaw hanging anxious and unused at his side. Grakka’s most cunning Nob and one of his best fighters, Bad Grub was a prime candidate to challenge Grakka for Boss-dom. That would be something Grakka would have to worry about later (Worry about? I look forward to it!).

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