Grugok Arena,

Oerbora, Daggerfall

7:00 a.m 21st Banem 1092.

Uruk-thai, an ancient orcish tradition passed down through countless generations to reduce the all too real danger of an orc extinction by their own hands. It was said the first Uruk-thai started when two warring orc clans realized they had lost over seventy percent of their population. In order to prevent the losses from getting any worse, the Uruk and Uthai chiefs came to an agreement to host a duel to the death, to which the winner would go all the spoils.

History is not sure of the final champion's identity, but there are those who speculate that the eventual name of the tradition, Uruk-thai, suggests that the Uruk chief emerged victorious. Regardless, the important point is that following this, whenever an orc wanted to usurp another, rather than a bloody battle which would diminish the orcish forces, an Uruk-thai would be issued, which every war chief was obliged to answer at least once a month.

Strangely enough, despite the lure of the throne, Grimlock's reign as War Chief had seen very few Uruk-thai challenges. No orc was stupid enough to throw their lives away at the feet of this absolute monster.

But this day was different! On this day, an orc had actually issued Grimlock an Uruk-thai challenge! Renark Ragelock had dared to challenge the War Chief's throne! Had Renark dug his own grave, or would there be an upset after all these years. The surrounding orcs nervously watched as the Grimlock rose to his feet, ax in hand.

At a corner of the arena, the member of Silver Spear sat among a company of curious wisbens and traders. Their guildmaster, Brilith Loneheart's beautiful green eyes sparkled as she observed the battle, eager to see who the eventual winner.

Grimlock, who at full height, stood a whole head above Renark, glared at the smaller orc as he hoisted his battle ax. "This is your last chance, Ragelock. Are you certain you want to do this?"

"Cut the bullshit, Grimlock," spat Renark as his tightened his grip around the axes. "Cut the bullshit Grimlock. I won't falter so easily."

"That is unfortunate." Grimlock's eyes narrowed. "We are about to lose an outstanding orc."

Renark's gaze burned hot as roared, "Yes we are!" and then charged at the waiting Grimlock. Once he was in range, Renark's right hand crashed down. Grimlock was game to the strike, however, and blocked with his ax's handle. In response, Renark roared and swung with his left at the larger orc's ribs. Grimlock, however, easily angled his ax's handle down and parried the blow. But the larger orc was not done. With both Renark's hands in odd positions, it opened up his midriff to a harsh strike from Grimlock's leg.

Renark coughed in shock as he was sent sliding back, but he immediately collected himself and crossed his axes over his head.

BANG!

Just in time, it proved, as Grimlock's ax crashed into the crossed blade. The massive blow forced Ragelock to his knees, muscles strained as he struggled to prevent the ax blade from cutting into his face.

"Why did you challenge me Ragelock?" Grimlock questioned, unbridled rage in his eyes as he pushed down. "Are you working for the wisben now!?"

Renark gritted his teeth, incensed by the accusation. "I don't work for anyone!" he roared as he pushed against the blade with all his strength. Unfortunately for him, Grimlock relaxed his force right before Ragelock pushed up, resulting in the smaller orc almost jumping into the air as he misjudged the required force.

BAM!
Grimlock smashed his foot into Renark's exposed midriff, sending the orc tumbling across the ground. Grrimlock charged at the orc for a quick follow-up. Before Renark could right himself, Grimlock swung down his ax with a heavy vengeance.

Renark's instincts blared heavy warnings as he sensed the incoming danger. Crack! The orc immediately stabbed his ax into the earth, pulling him to a hard stop. BAM! Grimlock's ax crashed into the earth a few inches in front of Renark – so close, in fact, that the orc's back crashed against the blade, causing a sizeable gash in his back.

Ignoring the pain in his back, Renark took advantage of Grimlock's shock to retaliate with a crunching kick at the orc's ankle. The strike destabilized Grimlock, causing him to almost topple over, but he held onto his ax, regaining his balance at the last moment. However, that split-second was enough for Renark to launch another devastating kick at Grimlock's ribs.

The blow sent the War Chief careening across the arena to the sounds of loud cheering, but he quickly stabilized himself by stabbing his ax's handle into the ground. Grimlock looked up at Renark, who stood up from the ground, twin axes in hand, and endless determination in his eyes. "Heh, I suppose you are not as useless as I thought," Grimlock praised as he pulled himself to full height and tightly gripped his ax. With a small grin, he called, "Come to your death."

Renark, in turn, roared in rage and then once again charged at Grimlock. Having learned from his past mistake, he avoided starting with a wide swing, and instead utilized short, tight and quick strikes, aiming for speed and precision over power.

Renark's rapid assault placed immense pressure on Grimlock, but he calmly parried each strike while patiently awaiting an opportunity. Renark, seeing his assault was not working, swung even faster, and more erratically, alternating between torso, feet and head strikes near seamlessly.

Unfortunately, no matter how hard Renark tried, Grimlock appeared to have an answer to every test he posed. Eventually, after several minutes of continued, assault, Renark seemed to tire as his swings' speed gradually reduced.

Grimlock's eyes shone as the opportunity he sought suddenly presented itself before him. The orc roared as he brandished his ax and pushed against Renark's blades. The fatigued Renark could not resist being pushed back a couple of steps. Grimlock pounced at the opportunity, launching a deadly strike from the ground in an arc to the sky.

Renark recognized the danger and instantly jumped back, barely raising his axes in time to block the strike. Despite the block, the force proved too much for the airborne orc. It sent him flying several feet away. Luckily, Renark retained the presence of mind to plant his feet firmly into the ground, preventing himself from being dragged further.

Renark roared as soon as he came to a stop and once again rushed toward Grimlock, without fear or hesitation. Grimlock, for his part, charged at Renark, no longer content with letting the younger orc control the initiative. However, Grimlock had only covered a few meters, when he instantly sensed immediate danger, to which he replied by instinctively covering his head with his ax.

Clang!

Grimlock stared in shock at the short ax temporarily hovering in front of him after ricocheting off his own ax. 'Renark!' Grimlock quickly looked ahead but was shocked to find no trace of the challenger orc. 'Where!?'

Grimlock's thought instantly cut off when every single hair on his body suddenly stood on end. This had only happened a handful of times in Grimlock's life. It was a portend of certain death! Luckily, the War Chief's instincts were truly extraordinary. He suddenly took a step back and then smashed his ax toward the earth.

This proved to be the right choice as Grimlock spotted Renark sliding across the earth, his second ax already curving upward toward his abdomen. Fortunately, after seeing Grimlock's ax, the younger orc was forced to redirect his strike to intercept.

Both orc's eyes met, challenge and murder exploding between them as their axes struck each other with a massive BANG! The clash proved too heavy for both blades, and they exploded, sending shrapnel flying in all directions.

Renark shut his eyes as shrapnel tore into his skin and eyelids, drawing blood. Grimlock however, instinctively shielded his eyes with ki. The larger orc ignored the pain as shrapnel stabbed into his body, and instead grabbed a handful from the air. With a deft flick of his fingers, he pushed the shrapnel between his knuckles, and then punched down hard.

BAM!
Grimlock's blow nearly dislocated Renark's jaw but did send him crashing headfirst into the dirt. Grimlock followed up with a savage kick to the downed orc's jaw that sent him flying upward. Grimlock charged the airborne orc and unleashed a series of bloody, devastating punches in quick succession. Gritting his teeth, he roared and punched hard, sending Renark once again crashing to the ground. Only this time, he stomped the orc's head into the ground for good measure.

"Pathetic," Grimlock cursed as he spat at the ground and then said as he walked over to the resting place of the ax Renark had thrown. "Not only did you betray your kind, but you lack the conviction and will to follow through till the end." Grimlock picked up the ax and then commented as he examined the blade, "You are not half the orc Durst is, and you will never be. If it were him, I would have hesitated to agree to this duel." He walked over to Renark's side, angry eyes glaring at the fallen orc as he declared, "There is no way he lost to the likes of you. Once I am done with you, I will seek out those wisben and deal with them too."

Grimlock raised the ax high above his head and then roared as he swung down with all his might, "Die!"

BAM!
"What!?" Grimlock shouted in shock as a hand reached out and grabbed his arm, preventing it from landing the killing blow. The War Chief stared in disbelief as Renark's grip tightened around his wrist, the upstart's grip exhibiting an impossible amount of strength as it slowly crushed the wrist bone.

That was not the end of it though.

Renark's eyes shot open, and Grimlock temporarily forgot his pain as he stared at the orc's corneas which had turned completely blood red, with a few drops of blood dripping out of his eyes.

Hundreds of old, wizened orcs around the arena shot to their feet, eyes wide in shock as they stared at the blood-soaked eyes and Renark's heavily veined arm. "It can't be?" someone whispered.

"It's been extinct for centuries?"

"Is it really?"

Grimlock, who happened to be the closest and could feel Renark's strength for himself had no choice but to admit. "Impossible! He's a Berserker! A Berserker Orc!" Upon realizing what he was up against, Grimlock did not dare take any more chances. He relinquished the ax and quickly wrested his arm from Renark's grip before jumping back to create distance.

The War Chief grimaced as he cradled his crushed wrist, cursing his bad luck and carelessness. However, as he watched the semi-unconscious Renark rise to his feet, teeth bared in a dog-like growl, he knew that this was not the time to moan about his predicament.

He had to do something and do it fast! Unfortunately, Renark Ragelock had on intentions of giving Grimlock time to regroup.

BOOM!

Like a bolt from a cannon, Renark bombed toward Grimlock with a single push. The berserker roared bloody murder as he unleashed a punch packed with the fury of a tormented devil.

Grimlock's grunted as he raised his left hand and caught the punch. Unfortunately, a mean right hook left hook followed, striking the War Chief's jaw. Grimlock spat out a tooth as his head was sent flying, but retaliated with a knee to Renark's gut.

Renark doubled over as a result of the blow, and Grimlock seized the opportunity to grab the younger orc's head. With an angry roar, Grimlock rammed Renark's head into his knee multiple times, intent on bashing the orc's head in if needed.

BAM!
Renark, however, had other plans. After the seventh strike, the orc gathered his wits and placed his palms beneath his head, blocking the blow. He then roared as he burst forward, destabilizing Grimlock, and sending them both crashing to the ground.

Renark, however, recovered first and quickly mounted the fallen Grimlock. His eyes, as he glared at his fallen enemy, held only hate and murder, no inkling of the intelligent orc left. Renark pinned Grimlock to the ground, pinning the war chief's arms to the ground with his knees. With a manic roar, he proceeded to unleash a flurry of blows at the chief's head and chest with no regard for the blood that splattered back onto him.

Things seemed dire for Grimlock, but just when it seemed like the winner had been decided, the old orc's legs shot upward, and in an unbelievable show of flexibility, wrapped around Renark's neck from behind. Grimlock grunted and then pushed backward.

Renark roared in rage, but was forced to follow the momentum of Grimlock's leg, or risk having his neck snapped. Following the momentum, he was forced to roll away from Grimlock, giving the War Chief a chance to rise to his feet, battered and bloodied, but still very much in the fight.

"A berserker," Grimlock murmured with a grimace as he wiped the blood from his forehead. "If nothing else, it was worth it to see this sight for myself." The orc grabbed his cracked right wrist with his left hand, and with a pained grimace, forcefully set his bones back in place. He flexed his right hand afterward, testing out the pain. Although there were still quite a few fractures in there, at the very least, the hand was still useable.

Grimlock raised his hands, gaze set as he stared at the berserker across from him. "Come."

Almost like he had been awaiting those words, Renark charged at Grimlock one final time.

BOOM!

CRASH!

What followed was a truly glorious battle, the likes of which was only seen once in a few years. Both orcs threw caution to the wind as they traded blow for blow. It was a fierce battle between Grimlock's skills and Renark's wild tenacity and instinct. The earth trembled with each step these titans took as they engaged in a bloody dance around the arena, painting each piece of the earth with their blood.

At some point, the orcs stopped cheering as they watched this desperate battle unfold before their eyes. Their hearts stirred every time Grimlock deflected a punch and retaliated with a crushing strike, and their blood boiled each time Renark burst through Grimlock's blocks and clawed or even bit into the chief's flesh.

Within these two, the orcs could feel traces of their old blood. The bloody skill of the Orcish Berserkers millennia ago. The force that was so terrifying, the entire world once banded in an effort to wipe them out. A tribe so brutal that the continent was forced to make a peace treaty with the orcs as long as they agreed to have Ferulic remove their Berserker trait, which would, in turn, remove the curse that made them such ruthless warmongerers.

Ferulic had succeeded. He did indeed remove all traces of the berserker's curse from the orcs. Unfortunately, or rather, fortunately, Mother Nature was tenacious. Centuries came and went, and through a series of lucky coincidences, the berserker trait was once again made manifest.

Even worse, upon watching this glorious fight, several Orcs began to feel their hearts racing, pumping hot blood coursing through their veins. They could feel a new force growing within their souls. What it was, no one knew yet, but it could definitely prove to be a continent-altering event!

However, none of this had anything to do with the combatants in the arena.

Renark and Grimlock continuously bashed away at each other, tearing flesh and breaking bones. Unfortunately, as time passed, only one of the two seemed to be affected by the ailments.

Grimlock slowed as the injuries piled, but as per the nature of the Berserker, Renark only grew stronger with each new injury. The signs were beginning to show too, as Renark began to slowly overpower the older orc, progressively landing more punches and dealing increased damage as time passed.

However, Renark's overconfidence proved to be his undoing, as just when it seemed he had the victory in the bag, Grimlock suddenly sprung with renewed vigor, kneeing the younger orc in the abdomen.

Renark staggered backward, clutching his stomach as he grimaced in pain. The orc's briefly shut eyes prevented him from seeing Grimlock pick up the dropped ax as he charged.

With a triumphant roar, Grimlock raised the ax over his head, prepared to swing down and behead the opposition in one sweep.

Bam!

However, to everyone's shock, whether as a result of fatigue or carelessness, Grimlock suddenly tripped, causing him to miss his strike by a large margin. It also rendered him completely helpless as a recovered Renark suddenly rushed behind his arms around his neck.

Before Grimlock could free himself, Renark, who had regained clarity, whispered with tears in his eyes, "Grimlock, Thank you for everything you taught me. You can leave the tribe to me." Tightening his grip, Renark regretfully added, "Also, this Uruk-thai is your win..."

CRACK!

A/N: Well, that covers that... Kinda sad to see Grimlock go... But what did Renark mean by Grimlock won that Uruk-thai?