Mak'Gora

This one wasn't written by me but by the infinitely more talented Ghelgor. It does however concern Grim, so with his permission I'm posting it here:

A few ogre corpses littered the floor of the cave, freshly slain and still bleeding from gruesome axe and sword wounds. But they were not important, slain only for being in the way. Circling each-other, two orcs paced in the midst of the corpses, weapons drawn and ready to fight. A Mak'gora had been invoked and accepted. Ghelgor could barely contain his rage, his disdain for his adversary filled his mind. Months of tension had all led to this moment, Grimgutz Stonepaw would die by his hand tonight. He hesitated for too long as Grimgutz lunged forward, sweeping his sword at his adversary's chest. Ghelgor leaped back, the sword scraping across his metal chest-plate. "Wake up, Bloodseeker!" Grimgutz grinned and readied his sword for another strike. With a roar, Ghelgor charged at him, bringing his axe down hard on the sword, forcing Grimgutz to his knees as he parried. Following up with a swift and hard kick to the face, drawing blood, Ghelgor stood over his fallen opponent with his axe raised to make the killing blow. He was surprised at how easy it had been. Perhaps Grim was not as good a warrior as he had been led to believe.

As Ghelgor's axe started on its descent, Grimgutz deftly drove his sword into Ghelgor's leg while rolling to the side and scrambling to his feet with remarkable speed. The blade of the axe struck the cave floor with an ear-piercing sound. Before he could turn around, Ghelgor felt a hard boot on his back, kicking him forcefully towards the floor. Tumbling over his own axe, he landed face first on the hard surface, breaking his nose for the umpteenth time. Rolling to the side, he swooped up his axe as he got up. His pierced leg slowly covered his boot in black blood, but he was still largely unaware of the wound, caught up as he were in his growing bloodrage. The taste of blood in his mouth fueled his rage further. Grimgutz had resumed his stance, ready for the counter-attack that was sure to come. Ghelgor was not about to disappoint him. Screaming gutturally, spraying blood from his mouth as he did so, he charged with all his might at the enemy, swinging his axe madly. Grimgutz parried the first swing and retaliated with a couple of accurate slashes at Ghelgor's arm and shoulder. Ghelgor was engulfed by the trance of his rage, pushing through Grim's assault without bothering to parry, letting the sword slash his right arm and pierce his left shoulder in order to land a crushing blow to Grim's chest, the axe cutting a large gash.

Grimgutz stumbled back against the cave wall, his sword still pointing defiantly at Ghelgor who stood breathing heavily with his bloodied axe raised yet again, his eyes bloodshot, black veins pulsing. Ghelgor saw everything clearer than before, even as blood filled his tear ducts. Grimgutz roared, leaping from the wall and slamming his sword down against Ghelgor's axe, pushing it down far enough for the blade to nick Ghelgor's scalp before it forced him on his back. Seeing Skysplitter coming towards him, Ghelgor acted quickly, swinging his axe at Grim's legs, the handle of it sweeping him off his feet. In his blood-induced clarity, Ghelgor realised that the battle had to end soon or there'd be no more blood to draw from. Scrambling to his feet once more, he advanced on Grim, axe held high. Grimgutz had managed to get up on one knee and made a desperate lunge, piercing Ghelgor's side with his sword, the blade exiting through the back, just inches from the spine. Growling and with nostrils flaring, Ghelgor gave Grim an upper-cut, sending him flying back and taking the sword with him. Ghelgor grimaced at the now perceivable pain but pushed through with his plan to end the fight.

Grimgutz, sprawled on the floor with blood flowing steadily from the gash across his chest, reached feebly for his sword a short distance from him, where it had landed. Ghelgor stomped down hard on the outstretched hand, hearing the subtle cracking of bones. Grimgutz looked up at him with an unfocused gaze, coughing blood, before his eyes rolled up in his skull and he lost conciousness. He had proven to be a worthy adversary. Ghelgor swayed as he stood, holding the axe raised to finish the Mak'gora the old-fashioned way. But as his strength started to leave him, so did his rage and clarity of mind. Doubts seeped in, weakening his resolve. He despised Grim's naive and childish view of the world and of honour, but at the same time he couldn't help but admire it. There was something appealing in his views, and they represented the New Horde. Slaying Grim now would be sealing Ghelgor's own fate as a dwindling relic of the past. Growling and spitting blood, Ghelgor stumbled away from the body of his defeated foe. He wasn't ready to submit to that fate just yet.

Swaying and stumbling, Ghelgor exited the cave, dragging his axe behind him. Every step heavier than the last, he wondered if he'd reach Dreadmaul Hold before the last drop of blood left his old and battered body.