My eyes shoot open and I am greeted by the stars in the night sky. It is a beautiful sight, beautiful enough to make me forget where I am and who I was for a second. But then, pain shoots across my face as I remember the sequence of events. It all rushes back to me, like a large ocean wave crashing onto the cliffs.

Fuck! I remember! How’d I kill that lioness again? How’d my spear do that and manage to pierce all the way through her skull? And did my father just leave me to die? I banish the last thought from my mind immediately, if he had left me to die he wouldn’t have patched me up and brought me here. But still, the first question still remained unanswered, my memory is vague but I remember that a lightning bolt hit it and then it glowed red. That had to be some kind of magic.

I sigh loudly, deciding to find my bearings first. I sit up quickly, beginning to look around. I could see in the night, thankfully, my orcish blood allows me to do so. I could see Chaganath sleeping next to me, laying on his back and his spear cradled towards his chest like a child. It would almost be comical if he wasn’t able to kill someone with it. Orcs, when they went hunting, didn’t typically have sleeping bags or tents or what not. They didn’t need to, orcs were made of tougher stock and could brave the elements.

However, out of the corner of my eye I saw a crackling glare, glancing over, a small campfire had been made which made my eyes water as I looked at it. The flame crackled and hissed as the wood and charcoal burned. Of course, no orc was stupid enough to sleep without a campfire out in the wide open plains. The creatures of the night feared fire, allowing one to sleep relatively undisturbed through the night.

Of course, there were still cases of orcs being ambushed and killed by others, most likely goblins considering most orcs don’t perform something cowardly like sneak attacks. The best time for a goblin to kill an orc is when they are unaware and when they are at their most vulnerable.

I look to my right, a large pile of bloody sacks were hauled in the corner. Most likely chopped up bits of the zebra, lionnesses that attacked us and...Chad. It was hard to survive in the open plains of this world, eating the deceased pets wasn't uncommon. Tears welled up in my eyes as I felt my hand shake and my vision go blurry. Oh my pet hyena, only known her for 2 years and she perished because of my idiocy.

I held the palm to my face, feeling that there were bandages there. The bleeding across my face had stopped but the wound still ached and even lightly touching them caused a sharp jolt of pain. This, of course, worsened the tears, causing them to flow freely from my eyes.

I let out a single sob, coughing violently as I tried to hold back my trembling voice from leaving my mouth. Of course, it was then when I heard a rustling sound behind me. Immediately, I whip around, placing a hand at my waist… to find that I had been disarmed.

Of course, I immediately relaxed when I found out it was my father, letting my muscles loosen and letting me drop to the floor. I realised tear streaks were still on my face, immediately grabbing some of the loose fur wrapped around my face to wipe them quickly before greeting my father.

While in the process of doing so, he stops me and places a hand on my shoulder. Before speaking in his quiet baritone voice.

“Hiding one’s emotions is not a good thing my son. Do not think less of yourself for grieving for your dead companion. Showing emotion is natural. Why do you think us Orcs roar when we enter battle? It is an emotional response.”

I cough violently, it was unlike the way I had been taught in the gang. Crying was weakness, showing stoic and strong behaviour was how you survived. If you cried at all, you were weak and people could take advantage of that. Being weak invited being attacked.

He continues on to speak, “Worry not Simba. You have proven to me and Chaganath that you will become a fine warrior. Dry your tears and we shall feast on, what was her name? [Chad]... Quite an odd name, how’d you come up with it.”

Of course, I used the actual english word for chad instead of an orc name, so I had to come up with something.

“Uhhhh, I just made it up father, meshed some random sounds together. I wanted the name to be unique.”

He gives a small chuckle before shaking his head lightly, “Alright, when day breaks we’ll eat [Chad] to remember her spirit and have her fierce hunting prowess stay with us forever more. May her spirit enrich your now proven warrior zeal. Now, get some rest. I will continue to keep watch tonight.”

I nod, finally noticing how tired I felt, my muscles were still sore and achy. No matter how strong orcs were, we still required at least a good night's sleep to recover. I walk back over to the campfire, it gets cold at night after all, flopping down in front of it. I lay on my back, deciding to deal with the questions I had for my father in the morning. I sigh loudly, letting my eyes close and slowly drifting off to sleep.

_____

Gortholax’s perspective

Standing watch is a pretty tedious thing to do, not that it is necessarily hard per say. But it’s a pain in the fucking ass. Having to stay up late at night and stand guard is a pretty annoying thing to do. But, that is the duty of the chieftain after all. To put themselves forward, as the strongest and most powerful member of the tribe.

Still, I’m glad my son’s safe now. I was right to let him tackle the lioness by himself. Sure, most orc children would have to reach at least the age of 5 to be able to fight a lioness on their own with weapons. Of course, that’s all in theory anyway, most 5 year olds would buckle and run at the sight of a lioness. But my son is chosen for Pandar after all, he’s special and despite being 2 years early. He’s managed to make his way out in the world.

Most Orcs reach maturity at around age 10 to 14. But it seems my boy is growing fast and will be hitting his peak soon enough. Perhaps it is the blessing of Pandar on his body. That his body cannot wait to grow up fast enough, able to reach their peak strength as soon as possible. Most Orcs begin to show signs of wear and tear at around 50 or 60, but most die when they reach their 40s. 40 is the age when an Orcs strength starts waning. It may not be that significant, but that small gap in strength is all that it needs to be to get killed.

I stare up at the night sky, exhaling loudly. The stars always looked so beautiful on a night like this. The night could be so loud after all, the soft blow of the wind and the chirping of cicadas. The fire kept away most of the beasts that prowled in the night, such as Lions. But I am certain the stench of the chunks of lion flesh we had in the sacks would keep them away.

I continued contemplating, wondering about the state of things and the future. Speaking of which, Pandar’s blessing. My son’s spear was struck by lightning just about the time he was about to jam it into the skull of the lion. That had to be divine intervention, there was no way that during a sunny day in the afternoon that a lightning strike would come out of nowhere.

It was written in the prophecy as well. That “the weapons of Pandar’s champion would be blessed by the force of the raging storm and his body the strength of the furious wind.” The raging storm had to be lightning, right? Still, didn’t magic rot the body and slowly cause the body to become weaker? Which is why most Shamans were either born physically deformed or sickly?

So, what does that mean for Simba? The strength of the furious wind, would that be that Pandar would fortify his body while allowing him to channel magic? Damn it all, this shit is confusing. I’ll have to speak with our shaman, Gorgoloth when we get back. I look around me, hearing the faint rustle of the wind among the grass.

I sigh loudly again, continuing to keep watch. It was going to be a long night.

_____

Takeshi/Simba’s perspective

I grunted, being shaken awake by some unknown person. I groaned loudly, sitting up and rubbing my eyes. I was about to speak before a large orcish hand was placed gently over my mouth. I glanced over to who covered my mouth and it was the awakened Chaganath. He glared into the brush around us, judging by the time of day, it should be about dawn. I had finally felt freshed up and my wounds no longer ached as much as they did before.

He whispers quietly in my ear, “We’re being watched. Something in the brush is watching us. I don’t know who and I don’t know what. Keep quiet. I’ll go to inform your father.”

I nod quickly, deciding to shut up. I stared at the brush, my eyes darting this way and that. I couldn’t make out any signs of the people that were watching us. Who were they anyway? What were they doing? What did they want with us? I slowly reached for my spear, gripping onto it tightly as I made my way slowly to my weapons.

Of course, Chaganath was going to inform my father, who was keeping watch. My father turned to look at him and all of a sudden, all hell broke loose. The sky was suddenly covered by around 30 spears. My eyes glazed over for a half second, but the whistling noise they made, forced me to dive out of the way. I managed to dive out of the way of the spears, the stone heads slamming down into the earth.

Immediately, I dove back into the brush, away from the small clearing we had made and drew my dagger, it was time for some fighting. I look over at the clearing and my father had disappeared, presumably having ducked into the brush.

However, Chaganath was not so lucky. His mind was preoccupied and he was loaded up with stress that he had failed to notice 3 spears aimed towards him. In his folly, he laid on the ground dying. His face lolled towards mine, his eyes devoid of emotion and glassed over. A spear embedded in his throat, another in his ribcage and another right in his stomach.

A painful death, as blood trickled out of his mouth and a gurgling sound could be heard. It was evident that he was choking on his blood and would not live to tell the tale. Out of the brush, a loud rustling could be heard as nearly 30 goblins moved into the small clearing.

Each and everyone of them carried tall oval shields, spears and daggers of various sorts. They seemed to have boiled leather for armor, with some lizard or crocodile scale vests or shoulder plates on some of them. This was a relatively well off goblin tribe, but what was most important was the tallest of them.

A goblin in the centre stood at 4’0, on his hip was a steel gladius. The dull metallic grey shone in the dawn light. This was no ordinary tribe, goblins and orcs in the savannah rarely had metal, let alone steel. They were a foe to be reckoned with. His, what I assumed to be an elite guard, all had bronze weapons of varying degrees.

The chieftain and the elite group had bronze oval shields, greaves, shoulder plating, wrist plating and helmets. They were a wealthy group and were well equipped to fight. All of them were dressed like Hoplites, except without the cuirass. It would probably be too hot to move in under the heat. The Goblin chieftain jammed his steel gladius through the eye socket of the dying Chaganath, killing him immediately. With a leery grin he began to speak, baring his teeth like a hyena.

_____

Goblin chieftain Mish’nik’s perspective

Wow! What a lucky day eh? From having raided a human mining settlement two dozen miles away from here, having stormed all the way back with a shit ton of loot and having come across 3 orcs with food! Just when we were about to run out of our rations! How lucky! The biggest and baddest one was killed, now to deal with the rest of them.

“Come on out Orcs!” I cried, waiting for a response. Of course, there was none.

“Are you all cowards? I thought Orcs enslaved goblins, no? Why are you so afraid of a bunch of lowly goblins. Maybe, you’re just a bunch of chickens after all!”

To this, my small retinue of men erupted in raucous laughter. The plan was to goad out the two remaining orcs. The main threat was the adult, the shorter orc wouldn’t be a problem to deal with. Orcs were afraid of using “underhanded methods” after all, refusing to do ambushes. Instead preferring to fight in pitched combats! Ha! Now, their pride and downfall would be their folly!

Of course, the adult orc immediately springs up, bronze spear and shield in hand. The round bronze shield and spear glimmered in the dawn light. Of course, both goblins and orcs had night vision which meant we could see clearly in the darkness. I made a loud cackle, stepping forward from the middle of the crowd and stepping in front of the tall orc.

The orc stood at least a solid 3 feet and a half taller than me. I whistled loudly, looking directly up at him as he stared down at me.

“Aren’t you a tall one’

“Yeah.”

The orc was quieter than most, unlike the other one’s I’ve fought before who were loud and charged immediately like an idiot. He was smarter than the rest, with a deep voice like most other orcs, but quiet.

“Where’s the child? I only see you?”

Had the orc told the child to run off? Sure, the orcs might be a prideful and stupid race of people, but not stupid enough to risk a child’s life in war. Of course, the orc chieftain said nothing.

I sighed loudly, “Well men! Kil-”

Mid sentence, a sudden spear flies out of the brush and then another in quick succession. The two spears hit true, striking the two goblins nearest to the brush. One through the neck and another through the back of the skull. All eyes instinctively turn to the sound, which a few paid with their life.

With a sudden swing of the shield, which I somehow managed to see out of the corner of my eye and duck under, however, 2 of my troops were not so lucky. The edge of the shield had apparently been sharpened and managed to slice open both of the goblins faces. A howl of pain filled the air, as blood and flesh spewed into the air.

In an instant, the formerly organized veteran goblin tribe descended into chaos. We were the ones performing the guerilla warfare, we never had guerilla warfare ever performed on us. It descended into chaos as the adult orc began hacking and slashing his way through the goblin lines.

The non elites began panicking, of course, I immediately pull back to recuperate. Everything had gone to shit. Everyone had FUCKING, GONE TO SHIT!

I manage to let out an angry cry as the orc came charging towards my elites, amidst the scattering goblins.

“COME AND FUCKING GET IT!”

______

Takeshi/Simba’s perspective

I’d fucking did it! Just like from the streets before, ambush the rival gang before they have any time to react to what you’re doing. Two spears, two goblins down. In the ensuing chaos that my father created, I managed to drag the two bodies into the brush with me.

I quickly took their stone spears before moving silently and slowly. The goblins were running into the brush trying to stop me, while others were just trying to plain run away. The goblin closing in on my position got a quick spear through the throat. The gurgling cry of the dying creature allerted the attention of the others as they rushed towards me through the thick grass.

I immediately pulled out my dagger, holding it in a low grip. I had done some knife fighting when I was a human, not fun, but I knew what to do in these kinds of shitty situations. A goblin burst from the bush, lunging towards me. He must’ve assumed since I was a kid I didn’t know how to fight? No, I had spent a year training the goblin martial arts, which were most likely reserved to the elites.

Since these rank and file grunts obviously didn’t know how to fight well. I quickly parried aside his spear arm with an elbow strike, stepping in quickly with a dagger strike. I jammed the dagger right into his jugular, forcing him onto the floor with my weight. I was 4’0 and a lot heavier than your average goblin after all.

Immediately, I grabbed the spear, rolling off of him as another spear stabbed into the goblins corpse, a second after I rolled off of him. I swung the spear upward, jamming it through the crotch of the goblin. It went clean through, that’s gotta hurt like a bitch.

The screams of the wounded and dying goblins filled the air, the stench of blood and guts filled my nostrils. Ah, just like the good old days. A quick twist of the wrist to widen the wound inside the goblin and then letting him fall over. I stand up quickly, raising my fists instinctively. But the goblins were either fleeing or slowly making their way towards me.

I could hear my father fighting in the distance, the roaring of the orc and the cries of the goblins filled the air. Shit! The elites were back there, I needed to help! Mid thought, two goblins pounced at me with their oval shields and spears.

In an instant, I swung my fist backward, smashing into one of their large protruding noses, crushing it in an instant. The goblin howled and fell back, collapsing onto the ground. The other one was a second too slow, the axe swing quickly avoided as I weaved my head to the side. In an instant, I swung my elbow downward, Muay Thai style. The elbow smashed into the forehead of the lunging goblin, smashing it back down to earth.

With both of them stunned, I picked up the oval shield and two spears. The sound of fighting was near me and I could hear the few remaining goblins still in the fight closing on me. In an instant, I spurred into action, sprinting towards the sound of bronze on bronze, the roaring of an orc and the shrill cries of the goblins made its way through the air.

Another goblin managed to catch up to me, with the others hot my tail. It leapt forward, diving into my legs and tackling me through the tall grass and into the brush. Shit! I was caught, my head smacked into the hard earth as I groaned loudly. The impact had jarred my head, but I could still see.

In an instant, my eyes comprehend the magnitude of the situation. My father held a bronze round shield and bronze khopesh in his hand, blood stained all over him. Dents could be seen in the bronze shield where strikes had been made, cuts and gashes across his torso and arm could be seen from enemy weapons. From the 10 goblins that were fighting him, only 3 remained.

The 7 others laid on the ground, bleeding out and dead, some of them killed by their own weapons. Some killed with a deft khopesh strike and others being run through with a spear. The fight had been going on for 30 to 40 seconds at the most, but for a split second, it seemed time slowed down.

All I could see was a wounded goblin, his guts spilling out onto the floor from a deep cut, sprinting as fast as he could towards my father with a spear. His dying wish, to kill my father. As my father advances forward, swinging his shield and khopesh, cleaving through the air as the goblins darted around him.

As they tried to surround him, they were cut off from a deft khopesh strike or shield bash, or just a plain old fist in their direction. All I could see was the spear being sent forward, from one of his blind spots, right in his direction. If I wasn’t trying to stop my father from dying, I would be incredibly impressed with the tenacity and mental fortitude the goblin had.

But alas, I had to stop my father from dying. But sad to say, I was pinned under the goblin and my weapons were knocked out of my grip. As the goblin on my back, raised his dagger to jam in the back of my head, I let out a primal roar. As I did, a loud strike of thunder erupted through the dawn sky.

I managed to force the goblin off of me in a feat of strength, what I remember, which is very little. I could feel a deep berserker rage take hold of me, as if I was a savage lion, driven mad by rage, wanting to tear apart the rival hyenas trying to kill off my brothers. I was the lion, powered by the lightning of pandar.

My eyes glow red as my body is surrounded with crackling red electricity. I swing my hands outward to stop the goblin from stabbing my father. As my roar echoed through the lands, a red lightning bolt erupts from my hand, crashing into the goblin who attempted to spear my father.

This all happened in a single second, and the aftermath was pretty damn bloody. The lightning seemed to wreath my body, managing to shock and crash against the body of the goblin that tried to stab me. The lightning bolt shot from my hand colliding into the body that tried to stab my father.

What happened to the two goblins was a grisly fate. In an instant, both of them suffered from a severe heart attack and thermal burns. Smoke and fire erupted from their body as their flesh was set alight from the strike, the high voltage of the electricity fried their brains and caused internal hemorrhaging, causing blood to leak from their eyes, noses, ears and mouths as they laid on the floor, burning to a crisp.

All eyes turned towards me, as the red glow of electricity crackled around my body. I let out a primal roar, swinging my hands back, my fingers curled as if I could claw and tear someone apart. And it began to rain, a heavy deluge of rain poured down onto the battlefield. Thunder and lightning streaked across the heavens.

I heaved loudly, my eyes glazed over in red as the electricity crackled all around me. I leant forward, almost if I was a lion myself and let out another roar. All I could hear in that instance was the roaring of the lion in my mind, the lion spirit of lightning, Pandar himself.

PROVE THAT YOU KNOW HOW TO WIELD MY GIFT CHILD, PROVE THAT YOU ARE WORTHY TO BE MY CHAMPION. AND YOUR REWARD SHALL BE THE SPOILS OF THIS BATTLE! DESCEND INTO THE BATTLE AS AN ORC WARRIOR AND RETURN AS A LION OF PANDAR!

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Feedback/comments are appreciated as always. If you enjoy, please upvote the post, thanks! Oh also, any speculation about the future of the story? Feel free to leave that in the comments too, I fucking love that shit.