Og’Dei’s perspective

I am Og’Dei, a high caste member born into the Asatru tribe under Chieftain Gortholax. Of course, due to my high caste nature and being put into my own war squad, I have slain many goblins, putting them to the sword. However, in my 6 years of life, I have yet to see such a skilled warrior such as the child of the Chieftain, Simba.

First was when he was 2, having defeated a child twice his age and beat him down with his bare fists alone. Of course, I seeked to emulate him immediately before I would join my own war squad. I was not the best fighter out of all the high castes, being given command of my own little war squad of 5 people.

Of course, as I watched Simba spar and learnt his movements, I slowly began to emulate him. Learning how to punch, learning how to fight properly in unarmed combat. And I have put the skills to test with trial and error. The way Simba fought was unlike any other style I’ve seen, the subdued ferocity, the rage, the intensity, the sublime nature was completely unseen.

Orcs really only wrestled and swung their arms around wildly when they fought, but not Simba. He honed his strikes, rarely engaging in wrestling actions, considering most people he fought were heavier and larger than him. He managed to hone down the craft of striking, avoiding grappling and wrestling on the ground.

I was now going to put it to the test, with a proper high caste member from another tribe. I was essentially going in blind, no knowledge of they were going to fight, no prior history and such. They seemed to be a year older, good, I knew the young lord Simba was watching and I wanted to make sure I would impress him with my display of combat.

He was also taller than me and heavier. I stood at 5’1 and weighed in at 120 pounds, with the other person standing at 5’3 and probably around 130 or 140 pounds. A solid 10 pound and 1 inch gap, at best. He, like other orcs got into the grappling stance, keeping their hands out in front of them, almost like they were going to charge forward.

It was almost predictable, their left knee was set forward and bent down. Most Orcs simply ran into each other and smashed into each other, before throwing one another to the ground and wrestling it out there. Perhaps it was a good thing after all, considering most battles would end on the ground, if you ran out of a weapon. Managing to throw a weapon leaves a perfect opening to stab them through with a dagger or any back up weapon.

But this was a sparring match, and I had the definitive advantage. As the battle began with a shout from one of the orcs from yet another clan serving as the referee. The opponent rushed towards me with malicious intent, but of course, I was prepared.

A quick snapping front kick, right to their lead knee sent them buckling down, their knee jerking out and their leg locking out. I swung my upper body down, my right elbow flashing down like a hatchet blow. The elbow smashed right into the temple of the orc, sending him tumbling to the ground.

I quickly shuffled back, letting my opponent get back up on his feet. I was not going to take the bait and go down to the ground with him. Of course, cheers erupted around me from various members of various tribes. Mostly children or teenagers, of course, most of them being under 10. As the cheers rained down on me, I spared a glance to where Simba was standing. The interested and intent look in his eyes made my heart skip a beat. Confidence welled up inside me as the potential for me being able to land a spot in his retinue began.

Yes, I was willing to give up my 4 followers to be granted a spot in the young lords retinue. It was worth it. As the opponent struggled to his feet, I quickly locked my eyes forward. I was not going to lose this battle.

_______

Simba’s perspective

In all honesty, the Orc kid from my tribe had done well. I guess the fan boy had enough bite to back up his bark. He had executed the mae geri front kick perfectly, the heel of the foot smashing into the knee. If his opponent didn’t hyperextended his knee, there’s going to be a nasty swell and a severe amount of pain on that knee. His mobility is going to be hindered significantly against the fanboy.

The elbow that smashed into his temple had sliced him open. The blood running down his cut was blocking out the vision in one of his eyes. Not a good start, only having one eye makes judging depth a lot harder. Proper depth perception is essentially reliant on having two eyes in and of itself. Both of them squared off, with the large orc being now more hesitant of the smaller one.

The smaller one, fanboy, as I now referred to him since I didn't know his name, was most likely going to win. He obviously had studied the techniques I used and had done so with at the very least, a modicum of talent. Perhaps I would recruit him, he was the only orc as of now, that I was aware of that had properly grasped the striking techniques of kickboxing.

A quick vertical jab, the fist clashed right into the nose of the larger orc, causing him to scrunch up his face in pain and recoil slightly. Bad move, when you can land a power shot, you shouldn’t be throwing out jabs. However, fanboy capitalized on it, throwing a “one two” combination, returning with a vertical right straight on the base of the orcs chin, knocking it up into the air.

He closed the distance quickly, throwing down the elbow with his upper body twisting into it once more, the elbow smashing right into the lip of his opponent, splitting it open. Good job, more blood loss means more damage. The opponent will be easier to pick apart, normally if this was in the human world, the fight would’ve probably stopped by now, but it hasn’t. So, the fight had to continue.

Fanboy followed up with another front kick, slamming the heel of his foot right into the person's diaphragm, otherwise known as the solar plexus. Interesting, I was surprised that he knew of that specific location. He might be a tad bit smarter than what I took him for, even if he loses, I’ll have to take into consideration his capabilities today.

The big boy orc doubled over, collapsing to the ground as he heaved violently, clutching his sternum and throat in an effort to try and breathe. Fanboy reared his leg up, before smashing the heel down on the crown of his opponent, executing a near perfect ace kick. The opponent was knocked unconscious as his face smashed into the ground.

Roars of cheering and clapping erupted as Fanboy turned around, basking in the glory with his arms opened wide. As he looks towards me, I gesture with a finger for him to come towards me. With a look of joy across his face, he immediately rushes towards me. I ignore the views of envy as he stops in front of me, looking expectantly.

I gesture for people to stop crowding, they complied quickly of course. I glanced over, seeing the rest of them all stare at me, at least from my tribe. I give them a glare, giving them good warning that I wasn’t to be trifled with. They quickly separated as I walked off, followed by my entourage and fanboy.

As we shuffled out of the crowd formed out of the sparring ring, we sat back down at the table, as fanboy sat across me, I began to speak.

______

Og’Dei’s

“So, tell me your name and tell me your age?” Simba asked me, despite his age, he already developed a relatively deep voice by orc standards. Clad in the rich furs of a lion, his status was shown plain as day. And the fact that at his hips were sheathed weapons, that I knew were steel, hammered that fact home even further.

I respond quickly, not wanting to disappoint the young lord who had now taken an interest in me, “My name’s Og’Dei lord, and I’m 6 years old.”

He seems to pause, pondering for a second. He looks me up and down, obviously trying to gauge my physical ability. As I was relatively wealthy, I could afford to wear expensive pelts, with leopard fur serving as a sleeveless vest of sorts. This allowed for my well muscled arms and shoulders to be shown off, as well as my large hands. He seems to nod, before continuing to speak.

“So, Og’Dei, I am curious, where did you learn to fight like that?”

I blink for a few seconds, wondering how he didn’t know. Was it not obvious who I learnt to fight from? I reply, “From you of course.”

“How?”

I pause again, what did he mean by “how” ? Was it not obvious? I continue to answer like nothing was wrong,

“By watching your fights, by watching the way you move and replicating them.”

“I see, and why did you choose to replicate my fighting technique?”

“Because you keep winning with it, sticking to ways that do not work is stupid. I should strive for victory, therefore, I used your techniques.”

“Did you invent any new ones?”

What an odd question, “No, I did not invent any new ones.”

He sighed loudly, being evidently disappointed with my response. Yet again, it was an odd response. I furrow my brow, a little confused as to why he was disappointed.

“What’s wrong? Did you expect me to create new techniques myself?”

“Honestly, yes. Considering the talent you showed just now, I was a little disappointed that you failed to do so. But I guess that just means my standards have been too high.”

“Huh? How did you expect me to create the new techniques? I’m not a genius.”

“The fact that you managed to learn the techniques that I performed solely from just watching, already shows that you are.”

My face glowed slightly, with a strong welling sense of pride filling up from the bottom of the stomach all the way to my heart. He called me a genius! The best fighter under the age of 12 called me a genius! I failed to come up with a response, stammering there like an idiot.

A mild grin appeared on Simba’s face as he managed a small chuckle with his two subordinates. One I didn’t recognize, the other one that did was obviously Chaganath, son of Chaganath, the late second in command. Second only to the Chieftain Gortholax.

“Well then, considering your skill. I presume you have men undr your command?”

“Yes. I am in charge of my own small boyhood war squad of 5. I am willing to abandon them to join you my lord!”

He raised a brow, before speaking quietly, “Do not spread this around. But I am to be promoted to a ten man commander so I can keep your squad and have them serve under me, just like you will. Is that acceptable?’

I nod rigorously, a wide grin spreading across my face. “Of course my lord! I will serve you loyally in the future in all things!”

He nods, with yet another faint smile on his face, “Good, good. Now, I have to get to my own personal business. I’ll speak to you once more later on the day. We’ll have to spar soon after all.”

He places a hand on my shoulder, before walking off with his retinue, leaving me behind at the table to contemplate my thoughts. All that filled my mind was overwhelming joy, this had to be the happiest day of my life, by far!

_______

Simba’s perspective

I walked off back to the fight pit. The day was still young and I was quite bored. As my retinue followed a few paces behind me, they knew right now wasn’t a good time to disturb me. I was deep in thought after all, slowly pushing my way and making my way forward to the fight pit. There didn’t seem to be a fight going on and many people were shouting about how they were going to fight next.

I couldn’t help but let out a snort. Orcs trying to solve things civilly and without fighting? That wasn’t going to last. I exhaled loudly, gesturing for my subordinates to stay. I walked forward into the middle of the pit before clearing my throat and shouting loudly,

“I AM SIMBA, SON OF CHIEFTAIN GORTHOLAX OF THE ASATRU TRIBE! ONLY A FELLOW HIGH CASTE MEMBER MAY FIGHT ME, WHO HAS THE BALLS TO CHALLENGE ME!”

Of course, that got the result I wanted. A whole host of people, around 10 to 15 immediately clawed their way forward. Of course, they were all high caste. I could tell by their clothing, with elements of lion, leopard, rhino and cheetah fur. These children, ranging from probably 6 to 9 years old, were all high caste members of various tribes.

I quickly looked for the strongest and I found him. A boy with a few battle scars, lion fur trappings around his waist, pants and boots but no shirt. His muscular wide frame could be shown to all. His large chest and 4 pack bulged outward as his thick sinewy muscles flexed and shifted underneath his skin. He stood at around 5’4, and probably around 150 pounds. A perfect test for me.

I pointed my finger at him, “What’s your name?”

He steps forward, obviously aware that he was the one being challenged, flexing his muscles as he stood in front of me. His bald head and multiple scars across his chest, torso and face were in full view. Some from claws, some from blades and some from the jaws of beasts.

“I am Sub’Dai, son of Er’k of the Asmodai tribe!”

“Well met, Sub’Dai, son of Er’K!”

I quickly got into my own fighting stance, as he quickly matched mine. At least the orcs were orderly enough to quickly shuffle out of the pit, giving us space. I got into my standard kickboxing orthodox stance, bobbing back and forth on my legs slightly, with a perfect balance.

He reciprocated, leaning downward and crouched downward, spreading his leg outward. It was obvious, he was going to try and grab, then intercept me. He extended his hands outward, his fingers splayed, ready to snatch and throw me.

I grinned, it had been a while since I had a proper blood boiling fight! As one of the orcs stepped forward, waving his arm down, signalling the duel. I let out a primal shout, as my opponent did as well, rushing forward to meet him in combat!

Under the witness of dozens of orcs and Pandar, I would prove to the other tribes I was the Chosen of Pandar!

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