The Prowling Forest, Part 11

The Flood

The stench of putrefying algae hung heavily over the cracking hearth of what had been Blubberfen. The few surviving, skeletal trees creaked in the breeze. Yet, the attention of all the Ironforged and their gnoblars was on the two figures grappled in a bear hug.
As soon as the different parties had met at sunset, it was clear leadership must have been decided once and for all. But with so little provisions left, an eating competition was out of the question. Without a word, the Tyrant and Crusher had charged at each other and started belly wrestling.
After hours of bouncing off each other with neither able to get an advantage, Hrothgur had lowered his head and grabbed Skargat, forcing both Tyrant's arms against his massive chest. The move surprised Skargat, and for a moment he staggered back. Then he planted his rear foot and twisted around, robbing Hrothgur of his advantage and breaking his grip enough to slid his own arms free and grab the Crusher.
Now they were both pushing forward, one arm around the other's shoulder and the other around their waist, their meaty fists clutched over the opponent's back. Neither was advancing.
Then, with a might bellow, Skargat arched his shoulders backward and lifted Hrothgur, all the while tightening his grip. The Tyrant spun around and then released the Crusher who sailed through the air and slammed against a dying tree, uprooting it.
Skargat stared at the Ironforged, panting heavily.
"Anyone's anything to say?" he growled.
In the following silence, the drunken laughters of the Swordfyshes sailed through the night.
"Good! That's the last time I want to hear those orruks laughing. Cargo and Braggoth! At dawn you'll pick the five best gnoblars, leave the other two to tend the wounded. Then we'll burst that dam! My way this time! And that will remind you all why I'm called Brainglut!"

***

At fist light, Krashhart and Ol' Mudgob stood atop their crude dam. Behind them, Lugger Dag and Flotsum awaited in the wailing mangrove copse.

The Ironforged advanced, each ogor shielding the gnoblars with their bulk. The diminutive creatures puffed their chests, for they had been given the most important task.

Krashhart surprised everybody with his quick reaction. He barged past Ol' Mudgod and leapt from the dam, the Gristle Grinder hefted over his head and aimed at that of Skargat.
The Tyrant seemed to ignore him, instead turning to kick Loota. The gnoblar flew through the air squeeling. As the Gristle Grinder glanced Skargat's helm, Loota landed with a heavy tud, rolled forward and then started running towards the most distant struts.

The Warchanter came at Skargat again, but the Tyrant ducked and countered with a low blow, sweeping Krashhart off his feet. The orruk landed on his back. Skargat lifted his foot and slammed it down with all his weight on Krashhart's chest, squeezing all the breath out of him.

Faced with such a display of both cunning and brutality, Ol' Mudgob panicked. Instead of rushing to protect the nearest strut, the shaman poured eldritch blasts on Skargat. But the Gulping God was smiling upon him, and the Waaagh! energy washed off him.

Braggoth seized upon the shaman's mistake and climbed up the riverbank, cutting Ol' Mudgob off from Sneeka and Basha which immediately pressed and lit their blasting charges into the dam.

Burna and Loota followed suit, as they had been instructed, screaming with glee at their own prowess.

Cargo advanced toward yet another strut, Watcha in tow. In front of them, Lugger and Flotsum rushed out of the wailing mangroves to protect it.

But it made no difference. With a mighty thunder, all three charges exploded simulteously, scattering debris in all directions. In a split second, the echoes of the blast were drowned by the rumble of a wall of water coming crushing through.

***

Hrothgur had wondered away, the shame of his defeat too strong for him to rejoin the Gluttons. He ventured deep into the Prowling Forest and came upon an opening on the flank of a rocky hill.
Somehow, he managed to crawl through the narrow passage and emerged into a hidden cave. There, he spotted a chest. As it opened it, it revealed a trove of books and azyrite astrolabes. But what caught the Crusher's attention were the vials marked with a skull and crossbones.

He unstoppered one and the acryd smell of Blight Serpent Venom hit his nostrils. With a grin, he stashed them in his satchel. If he could not win leadership with strength, callousness would do.