Beats Bloodthirster

As he ran, he arched the whole of his mountainous bulk backwards, rearing for an almighty punch. And you know, don’t you, that when the snarling daemon had got itself good and ready for that, he chucked out a leg fast as lightning, and kicked it right in its stupid, warp-spawned guts. Every ork’s got a favourite god out of the two, and when all those who favoured Mork saw such a perfectly done bit of gittery, they lost the plot. The cheer was so forceful it was like weather, and the most incredible thing happened – at the very peak of the ork roar, the hole the fing had come out of sputtered and went dim for a second.
The monster was staggered by the gut-kick. Only for a heartbeat, but that was all the boss needed. He charged in so fast I’m surprised he didn’t overtake his own foot, and just smashed into the daemon with all the elegance of a scrap-train hitting a cliff. He barrelled the horror to the ground, pinning it there under his enormous weight, and that made all the Gorkers in the crowd erupt. The hole in the world crackled and went dark again, and for longer this time.
The fight was over then, in truth. All the agility in the warp ain’t no use when there’s a massive warboss sitting on top of you. And it wasn’t like Ghazghkull was gonna give his enemy time to think of a way out. Even before his foe’s back hit the steel, the Prophet’s forearm was coming down, and it hit like a boulder. That arm thudded down again and again and again, while the boss held the daemon’s horn with his wounded left hand. They weren’t punches; he was using his whole arm like it was a club, for its raw weight, smashing it down in such quick succession you’d swear it never came back up again after each strike. And all the while that stupid monster just scrabbled at him hopelessly with its claws. The crowd began chanting in time with the blows, barking the word ‘orks’ fiercer and fiercer with each hit, and the warp-hole started pulsing on and off, so the whole chamber was strobing to the rhythm of the Prophet’s rage.
Ghazghkull kept hammering down long after the daemon stopped fighting back. I don’t think those things can die, so I couldn’t say he killed it. But it was busted up so bad it couldn’t move, and when he’d got bored of battering it, Ghazghkull picked up the body and chucked it back through the hole in the world. And then with nothing else to fight, the boss squared up to the guttering portal itself with a grimace of pure hate.
‘Is that it?’ he bellowed into the warp, voice soaring with the contempt of the gods themselves. ‘That was pathetic!’ he roared, and I swear if it was possible for an unknowable rent in the fabric of space to cower, that’s what I saw happen then. ‘Send something bigger!’ demanded the Prophet.
But nothing came out. There was just the hole in the world, standing between Ghazghkull and the galaxy he’d claimed. I’ll admit we still had one big problem, which was that we were still stuck drifting around Urk’s dead sun, until there was a way of getting that hole closed. But of course, Ghazghkull had something in mind.

Ghazghkull Thraka: Prophet of the WAAAGH