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Match D: Orkz Orkz Orkz Orkz | Mike Ehrmantraut

Started by Luca, August 22, 2021, 01:07:43 PM

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In a clash between two or the universe's most effective killers, who will survive?

Orkz Orkz Orkz Orkz
8 (100%)
Mike Ehrmantraut
0 (0%)

Total Members Voted: 8

Voting closed: August 23, 2021, 01:07:43 PM

Luca






Information

Write up an example of a battle in any form you choose. Be as elaborate or as simple as you wish. Be analytical and methodical or fanciful and storylike. Whichever you like best. Then vote in the poll to reflect how your match has turned out. The results of the poll will determine the outcome and a canonical shitpost will be developed which expresses that result. You are not required to write a battle post to vote, although it is recommended.

Votes will only be displayed after the poll closes.













Orkz Orkz Orkz Orkz





















Age:ORKZ DON' 'AVE BIRFDAYZ, BUT DA BIGGA' DA ORK, DA OLDA' 'E IZ - AND WE'RE ALL BIG
Strength:9 ORKZ IZ TUFF
Agility:4 ORKZ IZ KWIK
Wits:0 ORKZ KANT GET WIT OTHAWIZE DA SHOOTAZ' DON' WERK
Spirit:3 ORKZ ONLY LIV FOR DA WAAAGH!!!
Magic:0 WE DON' GOT NO ODDBOYZ 'ERE
Affinity:2 OUR SHOOTAZ, STABBAZ AN' CHOPPAZ ALMOZ' ALWAYZ WORKZ
Command:1 ALL DA BOYZ GOT IZ EACH OTHA
Luck:6 WE GOT 'ERE WIFOUT DYIN', AND IF ORKZ FINK IT, ORKZ KAN DO IT




WE ORK BOYZ ARE 'ERE FA' ONE 'FING AND ONE 'FING ONLY: TA PRUV DAT WE ARE DA BEST AT DA SHOOTIN' AND DA BOOMIN' AND DA STABBIN' AND DA CHOMPIN' AND DA STOMPIN'. TA DO DIZ, WE GOTZ OUR SHOOTAZ DAT GO DAKKA DAKKA DAKKA DAKKA DAKKA DAKKA DAKKA DAKKA DAKKA DAKKA DAKKA DAKKA DAKKA, OUR BIG BOOMAZ DAT MAKE DA BIG BOOMAZ AND OUR KLOZE KWARTAH KOMBAT WEPUNZ DAT GO STABBA STABBA, CHOMPA CHOMPA AND WHACKA WHACKA.

ONCE DA BOYZ PRUV TA ALL YOUZ PUNY HUMINZ AND ANIMULZ AND OBJEKS DAT WE IZ DA MOS' POWAFU', WE IZ GON' KEEP LOOKIN' FA' OTHA' TINGZ TA FIGHT. KOZ DAT IZ WAT WE ORKZ ORKZ ORKZ ORKZ ORKZ ORKZ ORKZ ORKZ DO. WE JUS LUV TA FIGHT.

Mike Ehrmantraut





















Age:76-81
Strength:1
Agility:1
Wits:8
Spirit:0
Magic:0
Affinity:6
Command:8
Luck:1




Michael "Mike" Ehrmantraut is one of the most dangerous men west of the Mississippi. Whilst his old age hinders his strength and mobility, he makes up for it with his calm manner, voice of reason and cunningness. Mike knows the criminal business inside out and can easily outwit his opponents, and can flex his strength and brutality with his legion of foot soldiers and cronies under his command, in addition to his prowess with weapons. Don't expect mercy from this man: he doesn't do half measures.








        Results



          Orkz Orkz Orkz Orkz


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   8

           Mike Ehrmantraut        




0   



       


Nangka

"'ERE WE GO, 'ERE WE GO, 'ERE WE GO, 'ERE WE GO, 'ERE WE GO, 'ERE WE GO, 'ERE WE GO, 'ERE WE GO."

A low rumble could be felt in the distance. The heavily accented chanting of "here we go" was growing louder and louder, and the men and women of Albuquerque, New Mexico, were very, very scared. Many were packing up their bags and heading out of town immediately. Others, like Mike Ehrmantraut and his hundreds of foot soldiers were gathering together at this fast-food joint somewhere in town. It sells burgers. Or chicken. I don't know, I've never watched Breaking Bad.

But the point is, these armed men all have guns, they're all paid very well and they want to keep being paid well. And so, they decide to join up with Ehrmantraut, their boss, and defend this place. Most of the boys show up. But a very small handful are noticeably absent. They didn't know it, but those that didn't show up had joined their families in running away from Albuquerque.

"Let's get this over with quick!" yelled Ehrmantraut, as loud as he can. His voice isn't as strong as it used to be in his younger days, but he still has a commanding aura around him, and those that couldn't hear him asked to get caught up by the others that could. "I have an audition later. As a guy in some weird sitcom about a high school, or a community college, or something. I don't know. They're going to pay me well, which means I'm going to pay you well. So man your posts. The sooner we defend this burger joint, or chicken joint, or whatever, the sooner we can get out of here."

The men did as they were all told. Perhaps a hundred strong, they all had the finest weapons they could acquire. They were all legal, of course. New Mexico's gun laws may not be very restrictive, but every single person here went through the process of getting a license to carry large-caliber and automatic firearms. As they should.

The rumbling in the ground started gaining speed. The chanting of "'ERE WE GO, 'ERE WE GO, 'ERE WE GO, 'ERE WE GO" was louder now. Clearer. And with that chanting came other loud noises. Firearms randomly going off. Random yells of pain and terror. The beings that were making this noise were already in Albuquerque, and they were causing chaos.

Ehrmantraut's men could watch the chaos unfold in the distance. Firearms were going off everywhere, buildings were randomly exploding and many more were catching fire. After a few more minutes, Ehrmantraut and his men were finally able to see who they were up against.

They were tall. Unnaturally tall. Perhaps nine feet tall on average. Their physique made them look very bulky, and their skin was green all over. They were the Orkz.

Da Orkz lined themselves up at the end of the parking lot surrounding the fast-food restaurant. They had all different kinds of weapons with them. Firearms that looked like they would explode after one shot. Rusty-looking swords, axes and mallets. One Ork Boy had a cartoonish-looking rocket launcher. The head of the rocket was painted bright red and everything.

As Da Orkz assembled, one Ork went forward and got on top of a parked car. Its roof bending heavily under the weight of the beast. This one Ork had a claw for a hand, and a rusty and blood-stained sword on the other. He was taller than the other Orkz by a foot, and he yelled: "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!!!"

As one, all Da Ork Boyz yelled the same thing. Urged on by their leader, they charged, firing wildly at anything in front of them. Most of their shots missed. The one Ork with the rocket launcher tried to aim the thing, but it backfired and sent him flying off in the opposite direction. Another Ork with what looked like a cobbled-together shotgun was similarly blown back after firing just one shot. Some of the other Orkz tripped on themselves as they charged forward. They yelled in pain and cursed at their fellow Orkz for trampling over them in the chaos. The Ork Boss who made the first yell was stuck in the back. The roof of the car he stood on could not take his weight, and as he stepped forward it broke underneath him.

But despite all these mistakes, there were many more Orkz that were still making their way to the fast-food restaurant. Many of Ehrmantraut's men had already started firing the moment the Orkz charged. Many Orkz were felled by accurate gunfire, many more just kept going despite getting hit several times. One man just gave up after shooting an Ork straight in the chest with his entire magazine, but the Ork just kept going.

"To hell with this," he said, and he ran off to the back exit of the restaurant. He called up his spouse, and he was gone with his family in minutes.

Most of Ehrmantraut's other men also got out. Others were cut down by the horde of Orkz. The weak and, by comparison, skinny-looking humans stood no chance to the towering, bulky Orkz, even if the weapons of the aliens were primitive in comparison to the well-armed 'Muricans.

The Orkz ransacked the entire restaurant. All the chairs were turned over. The cash register was smashed by one Ork with a mallet, who just really liked to smash things. The kitchen was similarly smashed. Except for the food. Which was burgers, or chickens, or something. I really can't stress enough how I have never watched this show.

In any case, they grabbed up all the food to be eaten later. Everything else - the fryers, the refrigerators, all of it was smashed. Smashed, smashed, smashed.

As the Orkz left the restaurant, the bodies of their victims were strewn all over the floor. One of them was Ehrmantraut, whose old heart gave out just as he saw the first Orkz.

ORKZ ORKZ ORKZ ORKZ WIN!!!

Emily

#2



        Results



          Orkz Orkz Orkz Orkz


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█ █ █ █ █ █ █ █
   8

           Mike Ehrmantraut        




0   



       


     Mike Ehrmantraut stood in the living room of his organisation's most talented meth cook, Walter White. He held a handgun in his hand, a revolver, staring down another old man haunted by his past, by his failures. He had just been giving Walter one of those speeches he always did, the kind where he related a story from his many centuries of life to the current predicament. Really what he wanted to do was get home and eat a pimento and cheese sandwich, maybe think about calling his daughter and then not doing it. You know, normal sad old man who's made a lot of mistakes in his life stuff.

There had been distant thunder outside, every few seconds for the last several minutes. It had been months since the last time they'd gotten rain in Albuquerque, but when he'd been watching his sports updates on the news that morning, the weather on the 8's had given a 10% chance of rain that evening. Mike sighed, a big, full-bodied action, and gave a look to Walter. "Do you understand, shithead?"

"I do," Walter's face was extremely still and grim, sort of a standby for the man at this point. He didn't seem to have a lot of range as a character.

"Aright," Mike holstered the gun and walked to the door. "Don't let me see you do it again," he said over his shoulder.

He expected to see rain, or maybe just distant lightning when he opened the door, but instead Mike saw a hulking behemoth crossing the yard. At least nine feet tall, the green-skinned beast was dressed in leather and metal armour, a chequered sheet draped over one shoulder and a wicked axe held in one hand. Their jaw was offset with the presence of giant tusks and a line of drool dripped down from one side. In the middle distance, Mike could see red planes pouring smoke from the back firing machine guns onto the suburban housing of the neighbourhood. More creatures were propelled through the air on the backs of rockets, screaming and laughing as they fell back to earth. Even further away, Mike saw sihlouetted against the light pollution of the city gargantuan lizards with fortresses built on their backs stomping through downtown.

"WAH HA HA, WOT 'AVE WE 'ERE?" shouted the ork, brandishing a jagged metallic gun of some sort upon noticing Mike. "PUNY, SMOL!"

The ork levelled the gun at Mike, who slammed the door and dodged to the side, back in Walter's living room. A loud BANG preceded a dozen holes appearing in the door, ripping it off the top hinge, leaving it to hang at an awkward angle in its frame. Hobbling to the window, Mike aimed and took a shot at the ork. The bullet clanged ineffectually off the armour, and the ork let out a loud laugh. "ME AN' DA BOYZ COME TO YOUR WORLD ON WAAGH, LIL ONE. WE 'ERE WIF DA SHOOTAZ AND DA SLUGGAZ AND DA ARDBOYZ." He punctuated each group of his compatriots with another shot, leaving a series of holes in the wall.

Mike took a breath. What was he going to do? He realised in that moment, as he caught the glint of another ork's armour in the window next to him, and yet another in the far window, that he had gotten through all of these fights and killed all these people in his past because they were idiots. He remembered that guy who ran down a hallway, completely blind, screaming and shooting straight forward. Or the other one that waited for him to raise the gun to exactly the right height. Shit, he thought, he hadn't fought a capable person in his entire goddamned life.

"waaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" came the first distant, but quickly closer and closer scream of an entire population of orks. Mike only had just enough time to turn his gaze, to see a meteor coming directly for the house. The Ardboy had cleared out, but Mike had nowhere to go as the rok smashed directly into that little house in that little suburb in the middle of Albuquerque. Another smear on the face of history, in the unending inevitability of the Waagh.


ORKZ! ORKZ! ORKZ! ORKZ!
Flawless Victory