Grok Gargle, the most awful orc on campus.

You decide to start with the biggest, and dumbest target first. Orcs are not known for their subtlety or tactics. They plow forward, taking the hits and then hitting back harder and more ferocious than anything they face. "Anything but me." You say to yourself with a smile.

You walk with purpose out of the library and down the halls past the throng of unwashed, unloved losers that eye fuck you looking for a weakness to exploit, you don't even bother glaring back. They're not worth the effort. You feel a hateful laughter rumbling deep inside you, and it kind of scares you. Just yesterday, you were one of these losers, and now all your so called strength comes from a lower power, and you wonder if that really makes you above these anonymous assholes...or below them?

It's a philosophical discussion you no longer have the time to ponder. The only thing you can focus on is those creatures on your list. Your prey. You forget the questions and the crowd passing you by and plan your attack on Grok. The first problem is the obvious one, Orcs are massive **** machines that can ignore pain, near fatal injury, and are too damn stupid to fool with most illusions. From your studies you found that most warlocks avoid hand to hand battle with orcs, as when push comes to shove, they would rather die than willingly submit and therefore aren't worth the trouble.

Since you don't want to end up a bimbo bombshell fucked for all eternity without relief, you do think he's worth the trouble. Despite all the warnings and his lack of any obvious weak spots, you have a certain quiet confident confidence that you can take him down. You have something most warlocks don't...a lifetime of weakness. You feel the hateful chuckle rising. None of these so called monsters and masters have a clue...but it's all the better for you if they learn the hard way.

"Hey, shrimp, whachoo doin' in the alpha halls? You lost?" You have to crane your neck to see who is taunting you. It's a seven foot, hulking brute that even the magical uniform can only barely give a human appearance to. He licks his thick lips and his pockmarked cheeks spread into a rictus grin. His beady pig eyes gleam greedily down at you. Grok Gargle, in the flesh. Since it's clear what he has planned for you, you figure you might as well play along, since it will at least get you alone with him.

"Oh yeah...heh heh. Sorry it's my first day. My name's Brian Brand. I'm a witch boy, but I got nervous and skipped my first day of classes." You smile up stupidly and Grok leans down to give you a good sniff. You blush instinctively and he smiles again, it's no friendlier looking with repetition. That's fine with you, the crueler they are, the less you worry about turning them out for Saderos.

Grok grabs you with one of his meaty paws and chuckles, a low, deep thundercloud of a laugh not unlike the one rising up in your belly. You ignore both and continue to smile sheepishly as your new friend leads you to the slaughter. "Guh huh huh! Don't you worry, frosh. I'll show you a fun place to hang out. Hurr hurr hurr!" His laugh makes your skin crawl and every instinct tells you to strike now, while he's unsuspecting, but something tells you that what he lacks in intellect, he more than makes up for in instinct. You keep smiling and keep your mind floaty and uncertain. Your guard is down, but that just makes you more dangerous, just so long as Grok doesn't sniff you out.

You arrive in an abandoned classroom and Grok blocks the door with his heavy frame behind you. He lets go of you and you turn and look up at him, smiling stupidly. If you can just get him to lower his guard for just a second...

TWACK

You fly across the room and land painfully as you crash into the wall on the opposite end of the room. Your body screams in agony and your mind reels. You couldn't even see the blow. You see Grok slowly stripping, his skin growing hard and greyish, his body growing to twice your size, and his 'smile' grows wider and full of thick, almost tusk like fangs that protrude from his lower jaw. "Stupid frosh. You think to make your name from Grok? You think I let a 'witch boi' take me unaware? You think just cuz I'm the strongest in school it means I'm the stupidest? HURR HURR HURR! Well, since you went to all the trouble to trap me, I guess I might as well show you why I don't scare from warlocks."

You look over his body and see that it is covered in scars...no, not scars...RUNES! He is covered head to toe in protection spells. All borne of pain and sacrifice, making them even more potent. From what little you've gleaned, your intelligence doesn't give you any advantage when it comes to magik. It's will versus will, and Grok has plenty to spare. That is, unless you can take him by surprise. You smile, and are gratified to see Grok flinch, ever so slightly. "Heh. Before we get started, I just wanted to say, even though I'm about to turn you out and fuck you until you love me, it's nothing personal."

"GUH HUH HUH Nothing...HURR HURR personal? BWUUH HUUUUUUH HUUUUUUH!" His big belly bounces with his laughter, but it holds rather solid. His yellow eyes narrow and his thick, worm-like lips pull into a gruesome grimace. "Well, so you know, when I break all bones in your body and fuck flesh pile I leave behind...IT WILL BE FUCKING PERSONAL!"

He rushes toward you, you only have chance to stop him. You could cast a spell, but only one...or you could try something much stupider...