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Yeah, I work fast Here's a story about Orks, drinking, relaxing, cheating, but most importantly, friendship.

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A Game of Bossgob.

Somewhere on the central plains of the Arkhona Mainlands lies a small rickidy settlement. It has no barracks made of repurposed Imperial metal and rockrete, no flying fields with Flyboyz constantly buzzing to leave the binding earth behind, and no Mek workshops, constantly toiling to build the next big monster of metal. No, this little settlement had one particular attraction: Da Fhirsty Grot.

Da Fhirsty Grot was an acclaimed saloon owned by the grizzled but passionate Skar-Brewah Gazzagog. Having fought in WAAAGH Skarblitz since its inception, Gazzagog grew old, rich and acclaimed, and at last decided to retire as a Brewer. Upon arrival in the Arkhona system, and with support from the wealth of the Bad Moon Warlord, Gazzagog build a saloon in the middle of nowhere, in unclaimed lands with nothing but a small running freshwater fountain.

Soon, as the forward troops truly began establishing control, Da Fhirsty Grot became the main "watering hole" for the many Orks fighting in the Mainland, or traveling in vast caravans of Trukks and Battlewagons, eager for a mug of Fungus Beer before going into battle with the armoured Astartes, the skittering Tyranid hordes or maybe even the lithe Eldar. It became the place to rewind, to relax, and to prepare for new, brutal campaigns into the forts of the Arkhona Mainland.

Today, howver, the saloon, and the surrounding buildings - Grot settlements, protected by Gazzagog's bodyguard in exchange for workforce, barracks for traveling Warbands and the occasional lue - were quiet, baking in the sun. It wasn't a day for staying inside the metal cabinets; even Ork skin would take harm from the triplet suns of the Arkhona system in broad daylight.

But all in all, it was a beautiful day that day. The resident Kultists where storming around the plains for jollies and the saloon itself was quiet - The servant grots used the opportunity to get a bit of cleaning done. Once in a while, one could hear a scream, or the sound of a gunshot, and occasionally, a fight would break out to beat the monotomy. Had a human witnessed this spectacle, they would've have turned around, no matter how much they needed shelter and water. To an Ork, it was tuesday, and a relaxed one at that.

It was an early afternoon. Outside Da Fhirsty Grot Saluun sat two Orks engaged in a brutal duel. For some Orks, such a battle involve sharp fangs, clunky weapons and intense ferocity, but this pair struggled not with brawn, but with their minds.

"And I'z drawin' up a... Nob. Hmmm..." said the largest of the two, as he took a metal piece from their rusty table. His name was simply Krooza, and his title was 'Ead Stompa, but to those who served under him, he was the Krooza Nob.

Clad in blue and iron armour, a fluffy and torn leather jacket stolen from an Imperial ace pilot he had taken from his cockpit in mid-air, and with a pair of flyer googles hanging around his wide neck, Krooza was easy to recognize; and better that way too, for Krooza didn't accept subordinates to act carelessly around him - Not that any would want to; his bulk was close to that of a Warboss in size, and with armour, he could rival even Dreadnoughts outright. He was a Boss Stormnob, and to serve in his 'Urrikane Smashas Storm Mob was a great honour for any young Stormboy.

"I already know'z what'd I'd do wiff dat." the other said, more wellspoken than the first. He was noticably smaller than his opponent, but no less darker toned, showing his scarred status. Nazzruk Morkboss was his name, and he was the Boss Nob of the Darkstabbas Kommandos.

Occasionally called "Da Facepuncha" by excitable Yoofs, Nazzruk's climb to the rank of Boss Nob was by no means typical. Some murmour about Nazzruk owning an old servitor and dozens of human litteratur pieces, which he apparently learned Gothic from, and other believe him to have his own agenda in the Lead Belcha Klan; but no one disputes where his title came from. In an unarmoured, unarmed duel against his prior Boss Nob, Nazzruk beat his opponnent with a single punch to the jaw after having lost several times. Imperial analytics believe Nazzruk to be a rare Ork able to learn from his mistakes and develop his skills by study; to the Boyz, he's blessed by Mork himself.

Beside their table was a large machine with straps upon it; a Techpriest would've called it a suicide missile, but Krooza called it his 'Urrikane Blasta, and it was the best jump pack in the Klan. Leaning on it was a Choppa, lean and jagged. Unlike the Choppas of other Nobs, who can bend ceramite and destroy rockrete, "Da Shiv", as Nazzruk called it, was no bigger than a Boy's Choppa. It was a precicion weapon, just like it's owner.

"Oh yeah?! So what'd ya do wiff it, ya squeeshy grot?" Krooza yelled at his friend, but Nazzruk didn't mind it.

"Well, why'd I tell ya? That'd be no fun. But if you'se really dat dense, I can get un' o' da Meks; dey at least know 'ow ta play..." Nazzruk said with a smirk.

"Why ya lil'... FINE. I's forcin' Ya Squig ta eat da Nob." the Krooza said and placed another jagged piece of metal on Nazzruk's table half, on top of a pile of metal like it.

"... Dat was not a gud idea, let me tell ya..." Morkboss teased. He looked like he enjoyed the Stormnob's rage immensely.

The two Orks were playing the game of Bossgob; a favourite of Orks everywhere. The rules were simple; both players had a "Gob", a pile of seven metal cards in the shape of the fangs adorning the armour of the Wolves of Fenris. On each of the cards, a symbol was inscribed: three Grots, two Boyz, one Nob and one Boss mark. The players, as many as there were, would put all of them on the table in front of them, face down, and then remove one Boss card. From here on, the participants would wager, throwing in Ork teeth on their chance of winning.

Nazzruk drew up a card and flipped it; on the rusty, bluish piece of metal was ingraven the symbol "Boy". Now, he had the option to place the card on any Ork's own "Gob". "Gob", the Orkish glyph for "maw", represented a Face Eater Squig, the most ferocious of the small critters following the Ork eco-system everywhere they went, and the cards represented what the Squig would eat. The goal was to have cards in an ascending manner in his pile, going from Grot, to Boy and to Nob and Boss, and so, to grow their "Squig" into a monster, capable of toppling castles.

The winner was the owner of the Gob who had the longest stream of eaten Orks. If a Gob got a card too big for it, it would automatically lose. To place a larger card on a Gob pile without losing, the Gob pile had to have at least two of the smaller size; so a Boy would only be eaten when the Gob had two Grots, and a Nob would only be eaten when there was two Boyz and so one. A Gob that managed to eat a Boss was called a Bossgob, and if an Ork held a Bossgob at the end of the game, he would win by default.

Every turn, a player would either draw a card and place it in whatever Gob they wanted, or remove a card from their bowl at random and place it back into the pile. The game ended when both Orks had decided to pass on both drawing, removing or throwing extra teef into the pot.

"I's placin' dis 'ere card in wiff ya." Nazzruk said, placing the metal card on the top of Krooza's Gob, without showing the card. Hiding information was not illegal in Bossgob.

The Krooza looked at Nazzruk with slight annoyence; he knew his partner would cheat if given the option to. It was an expected part of the game; if a player wasn't seen cheating, it was considered legal. If it was seen, it was legal if the cheating Ork in question wasn't in clobbering size. As such, Bossgob had a fair share of meta-game based on the size of the Ork players as well.

"I's raisin'," Krooza said in a deep, monotone voice, indicating near victory for the Morkboss. Krooza had not been good at keep track of his Gob since the third card, and Nazzruk had exploited it to greatest ability. He had already cheated five times, and Krooza hadn't noticed once.

Krooza placed a gold-plated tooth in the pot; clearly a withhold piece of wealth he was not entirely happy with parting. With a sigh of defeat, he drew a card from the pile; his expression didn't improve the least. He took a swig of his triple strength Fungus Beer and placed it with the force of a Thunder Hammer.

"Are ya gettin' enuff soon? You's loosin', ya know." Morkboss reminded him. Nazzruk loved winning, but he also loved not being smashed by the physically superior Stormnob, and so would at least like to keep a friendly tone with Krooza. Besides, the Krooza was perhaps one of the only Nobs he had ever been able to talk properly to; the others just blabbered about battle, battle, battle; not how to wage it. But the Krooza a Stormnob, and Stormers had some sense of strategy. It was refreshing for the Boss Nob.

"ARE YA ACCUSIN' ME O' GIVEN UP?!" Krooza yelled, the trinkets hanging from the clothing above them rattling by the sheer power of his voice. This gruff voice pierced the sky over the citadels of the puny humans in their tin armour to let them know that the hurricane had come for them, and Nazzruk knew the same fate would fall upon him, was he not savvy with his words from now on.

Not that he'd ever clobber Nazzruk. Krooza would perhaps be the brawn of the two Orks, but he hadn't come to his position of power through sheer murder and destruction. Even his bouts of rage and aggression at his position in the game wasn't heartfelt; it was his way of getting some fun out of the game. While he always liked a good game of Bossgob, he played it mainly for Nazzruk's sake; if it stood to him, they'd go infiltrate some fortress and scalp some stupid Eldar. But then again, it was hot outside, and Gazzagog's Fungus Beer was fantastic, so it wasn't all bad.

"Ya certainly look like it, ya pansy." Nazzruk said casually while drawing a card; but his expression froze. It was the Boss card. Nazzruk hid his surprise and tried to look like he was worried.

"Hehah, who's a pansy NOW?!", Krooza said, putting his huge fist to the table. "Are ya really out o' option, Nazz?".

"O' course I ain't. Watta ya takin' me for." Nazzruk said contemplatingly, faking his excitement over his luck. He himself could not use the Boss card, but he was sure Krooza hadn't got all it took to make a Bossgob. Slowly, as if conflicted about his decicion, Nazzruk picked up the card and placed it on Krooza's Gob - Victory was near.

Krooza didn't respond right away. Leaning back, as if surrendering, the Stormboss declared "I's callin'.".

"Callin'?! Already? I thought ya wanted ta fight 'til da bitta end?". Nazzruk was, for the first time that afternoon, confused.

"Ih see wen I's bein' beaten, an' i don' need to lose no more teef, so I's callin'.".

"... Alright. I's callin' too, den." Nazzruk said, putting the bowl of teeth on its head, to ensure no one would steal from the pot. The two Orks revealed their Gobs at the same time, placing the bottom card to the left, the next right after and so on. Soon, all cards where on the table, in two, barely neat lines.

Nazzruk looked up at his opponent, truly stunned. "... You'se got ya'self a Bossgob, Krooz.".

"I 'ave? Well, dat means I've won, ain't dat right?" the Krooza Nob said with pretend surprise in his voice.

The two Bosses exchanged a long, intense look. The Grots around them stopped their work, fearful that they'd have to clean up after the enevitable mess, and Boyz saw the two massive Orks and waited to see who'd throw the first punch. The saloon was quiet, and the wind seemed to only increase the ensuing drama. Everyone held their breath to see what of the saloon would be left standing.

But suddenly, in total unison, the two Orks burst into a hearty laugh, jabbing at each other and clapping each other on the back. All the remaining greenskins resumed their day, more or less happy for the outcome.

"I 'ad ya for real, didn't I?" Krooza said with a booming, excited voice.

"Yeah, ya 'ad me. Ya pile o' Grox dung." Nazzruk replied, still slightly stunned by his loss.

"HEHA! Grox dung, is dat it? Well alroight denn; dis 'ere pile o' dung's gonna buy ya sum' Ale, 'ow about dat?" Krooza said, putting his hand on the smaller Nazzruk's back.

"On ya?" Nazzruk said, surprised at the sudden bout of generosity from the Death Skull.

Krooza looked at his friend with a smile.

"... Yeah. On me.".

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That was a amusing read, well done and do keep them comming. particulary enjoyed the Ork Kommando

Very cool. Love the name of the pub, imagining a little comic sign out front and all.

Really loved the whole card game concept, and very nicely executed too. I can imagine it was a trick thing to write up but you did it so well. Shades of 'Cripple Mr Onion" but with orks.

Thanks for a great original read.

 Trondheim wrote:
That was a amusing read, well done and do keep them comming. particulary enjoyed the Ork Kommando

I'm happy you do; he's my "main character", so to say Krooza is another Ork player from Eternal Crusade, if you'd like to know.

Really enjoyed reading this, one of the best ork stories I've seen to be fair.