TROIKA!!!

You hear Murook shout but you were too busy trying not to burst into flames. Your insides were on fire! Falling to your knees, you hug your stomach and pray it doesn’t burst open. Hell, even your lower half wasn’t spared! The pain was intense for another few moments before beginning to subside. Cracking your eyes open, you glance up and gap at what you’re seeing.

All of the goblins were glowing, or more like their markings were glowing. It was faint but they all glowed, Reta’s purple markings gave off a more bright if not ominous one. Standing up, you see that you’re on markings are glowing. But that isn’t your only change.

You weren’t exactly ripped, not like Murook, but you did have some decent muscles. Now, however, your stomach had a little more definition, a faint outline of a four-pack showing. Your arms and biceps had little bit more muscle them, flexing a bit showed your new gifted strength.

Looking down, you could only imagine what happened below the belt.

“What did you do, you goblin bitch?!” A deep but angered voice spoke out.

Looking up, you see Murook also glowing but he’s deadly gaze is focused solely on the goblin shaman who still had her smirk on her face.

“Make fair fight.” She speaks as she looks at him. “You prove strength when came. Now prove dominance with less.”

Now actually looking, the orc does look less bulky than when you first met him. Not a lot mind you, he still looked like he could knock your head off, but he now had less mass and muscles to him.

“Should win, strength return.” She tilts her head and smiles innocently. “Big, strong Murook scared he lose?”

The large beast glared down at the smiling goblin with hate. He snorts loudly, you wouldn’t be surprised if flames shot out his nose. “When this is over, I’ll take that staff and shove it up that tight ass of yours.”

Reta kept smiling before snapping her fingers. Her two followers bowed to us and returned to her side. Reta raises her staff and stomps the ground twice. The beating and banging of the instruments returned in **** along with chanting from those without one. You stood completely up as the female began her walk back towards the circle with her masked assistants.

She stood at the edge near two drummers and turned around to gaze at the combatants. The rhythm increasing as she raised her arms to the night sky. “And now…”

“TROOOIKAAA!!!”

Slowly, you walked forward as Murook strides towards with purpose. He was big already but no as he got closer, you truly see the difference between the two of you.

“Before we fight, I’d least like to know your name.” Despite the focused look on his face, he managed to bring back his smirk. “You know part of mine, I am Murook of clan Alrock! And yours?”

You stand a foot from each other. Raising your fists, you get into a fighting stance.

“Alder. Alder Dorsin-”

You barely got a guard up when a large fist comes from the side and knocks you to the ground. Taking the air out of you, you glance up only to quickly roll out of the way of Murook’s boot coming down on your head. Scrambling, you get to your feet and jump back to avoid another strike. Holding your throbbing arm, you glare at the smug-looking orc as he rubs his knuckle.

“That would have normally broken it.” He says. “Guess that gunk did more than weaken me.”

Rushing forward, he takes another swing and you jump back. Taking another, you jump to the side and run around him. Turning, he attempts to backhand you results in hitting air. Ducking down to avoid the hit, you thrust your leg forward and kick him in the stomach, getting a grunt out of him as you jump back.

Speed and distance is your only way of winning. Face to face is a **** sentence even with the strength difference. Circling each other, your breathing hard as Murook has an annoyed look. Snorting, he charges forward with fists raised.

The entire tribe watches the two of you, him swinging fists with the **** of a bull, you dodging and getting in hits when you can. Reta sits on the ground, staff in her lap with a neutral look on her face as the other goblins continue to play or shout at the fight before them.

One ill-timed punch, Murook catches your fist. Grinning, he grabs your arm crushingly, twists, and pulls. Weightless for a moment, you cry out in pain as you're slammed back first into the ground. Pulling you up by the arm, he throws you again to the ground and then places his knee to your throat.

Gagging, you desperately struggle at the pressure on your throat. Eyes watering as you gaze up at an evilly grinning orc as he leans down, your captured arm twisted in a way for added pain. Losing air fast, your free hand frantically searches the ground for something, anything to help! Darkness encroaching, you clutch whatever dirt and twigs you could, bring it close and throw it in the orc’s face. Crying out, his knee raises off your throat enough for you to move out as he rubs his eyes.

Quickly, you shoot up and catch the orc with an uppercut to the jaw, the act releasing your arm and you follow with a jumping knee to the face. Dazed and stunned, Murook staggers backward and you press on this advantage with a flurry of punches, haymakers, whatever you could throw. Growing increasingly irritated, the orc roars loudly, the volume encompassing all other noise. The shout stunned you for a second, which Murook took as a large green fist surged straight towards you.

You once got kicked by a horse, put your arm in a sling for a month. This time was more so, and more damaging as you flew backward, bounce off the ground once, twice, your head hitting the ground as you skid across the ground, stopping just a few feet from the goblin circle.