"You want me to kick your ass, fuck face?"

Grok stops dead in his tracks. For a moment, he looks like you've punched square in the face. And then he laughs, "GWAH HAH HAAAAH! What do you think, punk? You gonna try some spell to make you big? It won't work...I am strongest no matter what." He slowly makes his way over to you, chuckling and licking his lips.

You have a plan...not a good one, not even a particularly sane one, but it's the best you've got. You **** yourself to stand on your shaky legs and spit out the blood in your mouth. No way, Guacamole Garble. All I need is these human hands and my willpower. We'll exchange blows, and the first one to quit gets fucked." He hesitates again, and this time you smile.

He moves so fast, he is on you before you can breath. You feel yourself kicking helplessly in the air before you realize he's grabbed you. His hot, rancid breath hits your face almost as hard as his punch. You take a deep breath, enduring the taste of day old vomit filling your lungs. You cock your arm back and strike him with your full body weight. He doesn't even budge. You spit out, "What's the matter, Glug Girlie? Scared of a human?"

CRACK

You fly up into the air and CRASH down onto the desks below you. Pain explodes inside you and you struggle to breath. You feel a primal fear latch onto the base of your neck and scream of surrender, but you shut it out. You manage to wheeze a raspy laugh and Grok bellows, "SHUT MOUTH! You think I won't kill? You think rules protect you? Then keep push me!"

You spit out some more blood...and a tooth this time. You smile as you **** yourself to stand on your rickety legs. You stumble over to the orc, each step more painful than the last. You finally reach him. He stares down at you, dumbfounded as you reel back and strike him as hard as you can, which isn't hard at all. Before he can laugh, you snarl, "What's the matter, Glock Cumgurgle, scared I'll hurt you if we keep going? By the way, what kind of name is Gluk Gluhguhguh? It sounds like you're **** on a cock."

SMACK

You skid across the room, slamming into the teachers desk so hard you crack it in two. You spit out another spray of blood as you wheeze and struggle for air. Grok throws back his head and roars. The sound is like an elephant being murdered. It's all you can do to stop yourself from crying. Then the orc snatches you up and lifts you to his face. He's so huge, his mouth looks big enough to crush your head as he shouts, "MY! NAME! IS! GRULOCK GARGEREL! You stupid hoomans never say it right!"

"Got you, bitch." The orc drops you to the floor as he stumbles back, suddenly terrified. He looks around, too late, he notices that your blood has formed a triangle, the sacred shape. Worse, now you know his true name, which you can use to bind him. More than anything, it's his fear which undoes him. He flinches, drops his guard. He's never faced anything like you before. He can hurt you, crush you, kill you, but not break you, and as a result he has no idea what to do with you. You take a deep breath, and with every ounce of will in your body you chant, "Grulock Gargarell, yb ruoy emane kigam sdnib eeht, emoceb eht tlus fo ym smaerd!"