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WHAM!

That wasn't a fist. Whatever that thing was no sane or thoughtful person should ever disrespect the sheer pain it can inflict by comparing those wrecking balls of meat and bone to something as mundane as a simple punch. I had enough sense to see it coming, enough time to almost brace for it, and a lifetime flashing through my eyes in a single instant once he slammed down into my belly.

Right on the belly button!

It felt as if the world was moving in slow motion, my hind legs twisting up toward the roof and my face lunging forward. Folded in half by the sheer force of his blow, eyes bulging and my tongue dragging to one sid- ... CRUNCH!

When this happened out in the open there wasn't any height limitation. But sitting with my back up on the table, the roof had rather annoying objections to how far my feet and tail would reach. Unfortunately for the roof my foot was stronger, smashing apart wooden beams and sending in a surging flurry of snow and wind. Kicking the roof was involuntary, I swear! And my belly still hurt much more than my foot ever would.

That fox was busy picking up my backpack in a hurry, latching his grubby little thieving paws on it.

Gasping, gaping, if I tried to say anything I don't think even I would have been able to tell, instead I just waved my claw in his general direction to ward him off all the while trying not to die from sensory overload. Hard to move, hard to breathe, painfully easy to think so long as what I happened to be thinking about was pain.

The ork wasn't finished, right fist pulling back just fast enough for his left fist to surge down. Too big to dodge, can't move, can't roll, I try to maneuver my arms up to block it maybe? Instead I just feel him smash the top of my arm and hammer it down like a nail. My arm clawed hand sinking down more than a foot into my belly and once more propping the other ends of my body skywar- ... CRASH! COLD! Ohcoldcoldcold!

Now it was my face that tore through the roof, smashing through two separate layers of well insulated wood and now popping up just over the top of a house. I could see the angled curve as it's pointed center juts up to my left, and the impact apparently sent a explosion of snow in all directions.

But my face didn't hurt at all, the skull had armored scales and thick horns.

By the gods my stomach hurt so badly. And to those very same gods, if I let mere pain stop me from securing the orb, I would never live this down.

Tears turning to ice in the corners of my eyes, my front claws grip into the roof for support so I can swing my hips down under me. I could now watch from above, my stuck foot tearing away entire chunks of wood and shingles, bringing the warm room to a sudden gale of swirling snowflakes. Violently, and dangerously, I dropped my legs up underneath me. Full weight bearing down into a table that was clearly designed to hold a dragon.

SLAMSLAMSLAMSLAM!

One strike, then another, and another still, and even more, in the span of an eye-blink I felt meaty wrecking balls start to utterly demolish my sense of determination. No holding back, no rearing up for a power blow, he just positioned himself in front of me and started wailing all-out. Yeah, I was crying all right? I screamed loud, I screamed hard, and even my scream took on a comical wobblyness as the sound distorts with each consecutive hit. His fists alternating left and right, one sinking in all the way to his elbow and jabbing so hard I was sure he could punch my back from the front. And then his other arm slams into a spot next to the blubber, sinking all the way down and rebounding the first strike back out.

I had become an inflatable bouncy toy and this Orc was using me as his punching bag!

My feet slipped out beneath me, one leg clinging to the table while my other scrapes down to the floor. I landed on my belly you know, because of course I did, the bottom of my chin cracking the stone when it impacts. My entire body now curled up, half draping over the sides, as I stare ahead to that half naked Orc. His fists still raised and a sickening aura of satisfaction coming off of him. I could taste his sadistic glee, he felt as if he were enacting righteous vengeance.

I felt like I was going to puke, and it was all I could do to keep from falling down and curling into a ball.

The orb!

A glance to the left, I could see that fox out of the corner of my eye. He had my satchel in his hands and was already at the far doorway. If he escapes ...

Can't let that happen. Swing! My tail whips through the air like lightning, and the fox doesn't even see me coming. The sharp tip slams into his shoulder, throws the little guy far away from the door, and he crunches into the far wall with a howl of pain. The satchel now dropped, and that fox slumping to the floor. Stunned and staggered, and I have no idea if anything was broken or not.

Have to care about that later, maybe remember to come back and heal him when all is said and done-smack.

Slap.

Slapslaps.

The hits felt so very different from that explosion of pain earlier. I had to turn and stare at the Orc now, blinking at those dangerous looking fists that strike out with a vicious zeal into the side of my face. It stung, I guess. A wet slap, a surprising shudder, I could feel the force of his punches rattle across my skin such even my tail shaken by the impact. But this barely phased me.

I started to stand up. I wasn't feeling especially polite at the time, and might have offered a very toothy growl. My aching stomach now concealed by the table I lay on, my arms griping for purchase and my legs working to support myself. Had to get on my feet, had to run before I cause any more collateral damage.

SLAP! He strikes me directly in the nose, and I don't even blink at him now.

"Why are you doing this!?" I hiss through strained teeth. Yeah, I guess I was angrier than I thought I'd be and couldn't bring myself to hide it. "Now two people are hurt because of you, and for what! To steal a shiny bit of glass?"

"Two people?" The Orc actually stops his assault out of sheer confusion.

I decided not to let up, making sure my feet were stable and that I was holding position halfway on this table. It gave me even more of a height advantage, shoulders hunched so my head had to duck to keep level with him.

"The fox thief over there, and the receptionist at the front desk. This building is fancy and has to be expensive, you know! Even if it wasn't, you're very rude to go breaking walls in a house you don't own. You should apologize. Right now."

"ME?!" the Orc bellows, his breath hot against my face even as ice swirled behind him. "You were the one with no restraint, YOU were the one who tore the roof open behind us! Don't you dare blame this on me you filthy faggot ridden dragon sucker!"

"Well who started the fight? Huh! You don't see me throwing any punches to helpless people on a table!"

The Orc now swings his fist toward my face while screaming, louder and angrier. "Helpless. HELPLESS?!" It whaps almost harmlessly. Enough force to sting, and it could sort of hurt, but it's not like he'd ever get any real damage through. So long as I braced and grit my teeth he was barely knocking my head back.

"My people have died because of your thieving ways!" another bap, coming in from the opposite side and lining up my nose for his third punch. "We had a guardian until you took them away! We had magic, we had power, we had protection!"

Strike, strike, strike, the assault was weak but relentless and started driving me back. I closed my eyes and now flinched at each of the slams, building momentum and hitting harder, then harder still. By the god's name, what was this man talking about?

"But you dragons wanted what we had. You were powerful enough to take it, cruel enough to shove us aside! THAT. FUCKING. ORB. BELONGS. TO. THE. ORCS!" Each and every word was now punctuated by a swing. A harsh slam that knocks into my cheeks, batters my nose, sends me reeling away more for the speed of it than the force. His words more hurtful than the blows.

Blood sprays away on one of the strikes, but it wasn't mine. I could see his fists were now dripping red and the knuckles were burst open with torn skin. This .... No ...

"Stop, stop! J-just stop it, we can talk about this!" I start to speak. I could taste the vindication in his voice, I could taste that same opportunity. A ruthless zeal toward a rare opportunity, the flavor of what it feels like to stop at nothing to achieve a worthy goal. It tasted so similar to mine, and how I thought I should feel, but this was the orc's emotions. And his burning desire dwarfed mine a hundred fold.

"Shut up, SHUT up, SHUT UP!" he screeches in a deep boom, a hammerfist knocking the top of my head down. Then his other fist swings up, crunching into the bottom of my chin. I'm sent rising, lifting off the ground, my horns scraping into the roof while my front arms waggle for any sort of purchase.

PAAAAIIIIINNNN!

And right as my chest was up and my belly exposed, guess where he decided to hit. No, come on now. Guess. I'm sure you'll be really surprised.

Coherent thought was no longer possible past that point, my armor withstanding every strike he could throw at me with only weak little taps, yet the moment he hit my gut it was like pain had enveloped my entire mind. I couldn't taste magic anymore, I couldn't feel my arms, my eyes seem to fill with twinkling stars that block my vision. I could smell blue, and for some weird reason it smelled like strawberries.

I was dimly aware of what had happened a few seconds later, my senses coming back to me and showing a view of how I'd crashed through a wooden door and into that long hallway. My foot was on top of the fox, and that orc was breathing heavily. Staring at me from across the room.

Hurt to think. Hurt to breathe. I was folded in on myself with my face between my legs, I guess I must have crumpled like normal and his blow had enough force to knock me several yards back.

If there were any other people in here I'd have landed on top of them. I could have seriously hurt someone just by getting tossed around. Even that little fox guy, I was only a few feet away from landing on him! If he were sat on I don't know how much more damage it would have done than my tail had already managed.

The fox groans, bracing his paws onto the ground and trying to stagger back up, but my foot was still on top of him.

I rolled forward and moved to scoop the bag out of his hands. Wait, no. I TRIED to roll forward, and fell onto my side in a whimpering puddle of moans and aches while my belly screamed at me to stretch out. I just couldn't do it, bringing my body to move was impossible.

Then that orc started walking toward me, his shoulders swaying with each step and his face a twisted mess of pride, anger, of pain and glee. He started to approach right as I was still on my side with most of my belly exposed. He could just start kicking me, or wailing those punches even harder! This was going to hurt more, for the first time in a long while I could see exactly where the belly blows were coming from and not be taken by surprise.

My tail twitched.

Stop trying to stand up, just use my tail, looping the end beneath that fox's shoulder and cupping it into the strap of my bag. Slide my tail closer toward my belly, letting shaking hands grasp through the leather to latch around the orb itself.

The orc was upon me now.

Hold tight and curl up, put my elbow over the side of my gut, bring my knees up and hope the curve is enough. It wasn't, just like with the fox my belly was always too big and my limbs were always too small, leaving plenty of openings for even his meat shaped wrecking balls to slam down.

A hard squelch near the bottom of my rib cage, a fist that swings down from the side and still manages to hit my belly button, but only by squashing through four feet of rubber flesh along the way down. Twisting the skin, stretching my gut taut, and folding his fist so deep he had to plant his feet on my hips just for the leverage to pull it back out.

Eyes wide and mouth open, desperate gasps of wheezing breath, my right leg twitching along the ground. But I had to keep hold of the orb, I just had to make sure nothing takes it awa- ...

SLAM!SLAM!SLAM!SLAM!

Four rapidfire punches as he holds me still with one arm and jackhammers his fist into my belly with the other. One, then two, then three, and I was in so much pain I lost count and felt like giving up. I could taste his passion, feel his sense of success and pride flowing through me. Finally laying low a hated enemy, the cathartic release of decades long pent up suppression.

Feeling his sensations right now would have been so much nicer than the brutal humiliation of my own scenario. But I couldn't be like that.

Or could I?

His fist strikes me again, but the pain was just more of the same now, A sharp, expansive throbbing that brings all of my thoughts to that single sensation. I knew he would attack once more. I could match the rhythm, I could feel the beat of his movement like the drumming in a song. And I could prepare.

Just nudging my elbow right where his fist was going to land, and watching as he broke his hand on the hard, tapered joint. My scales now speckled with his blood, but entirely unharmed. His fists raw and bruised, one twisted at the wrong angle. The orc starts to scream louder than I ever had, he still had the breath to shout with.

I saw the fox coming to, tucking his legs under him and bracing against the wall for support.

He could stand, so why didn't I?

The more I thought about it, the more I realized there wasn't any reason. It was all just pain, and if I kept feeling it for long enough I should be able to ignore it. Right? I started ignoring it. Never to the point it went away, but enough that I could tuck my legs under me. Twist around to face my two attackers, the fox now off to one side and the orc staring me down with this mix of fear and hatred. I stared him down as well, before limping forward and slashing my claws in his general direction.

I rend the air, my claws make contact with his shoulder, and with just enough of a point for him to feel I start holding my grip.

He tries to shake me off with his one good hand, slapping into the inner forarm. I respond by throwing my head forward and snapping at his nose, my dagger-sharp teeth leaving a loud clack. He's terrified now, moving to back off, even if it means running his skin through the sharp tip of my fingernails. Three long trails of red that would one day give him a distinct scar, if the battered hands weren't enough. And in his panic the orc stumbles over his own feet, tripping backwards and landing in a heap.

For the first time in a long while I was above him. Taller to the point I had to look down at him, the victor in a fight with undisputed mastery. I could feel his sense of pride genuinely now. Even through the pain of a gut punch, I was a dragon. I was invincible! I was the strongest this world had ever seen!

"You." I hissed out angrily, making sure to show him my teeth. "Are." I slammed my claws into the ground next to his head, a clear threat while my form was overtaking his. I could see the fear in his eyes, I could taste the fact he wondered if I would kill him here. "GOING!" I screamed now, breath and fangs blasting into his face, the hard chill of the outside storm sending a trail of powered snow over the both of us. "TO APPOLOGIZE!"

I ended in a furious roar. If no one had heard the loud crashing, the pained screams, or the melee of a fight before now, there wasn't any ignoring it from this point. The roar of a full dragon's attention delivered right into his face, enough to cow most any intelligent creature, and more than enough to cement home the idea that he wasn't going to be stealing any dragon artifacts from now on, even if he was deluded into thinking the orcs could make something so delicate.

Victory. I was winning. I could be proud of something for once- ...

And that's right when the pain went from a dull thob aching all over my belly, to a single needle-point reaching from one side to the other. It felt like my gut was just taffy inside a leather bag, a single fist reaching from the left side all the way to the right. It felt like pan had formed up a neat little line and then decided to grab everything around it and add that nearby flesh to the pain party.

Tears were in my eyes, and the cold air froze them immediately. A shaky gasp, a breaking voice ...

"a-aa-a-aa-aa-a-a-a-aaa-a" I couldn't even manage a girlish squeal.

You would have thought this came from the orc maybe, a wild swing when he had me right on top of him. But no, even though the force wasn't nearly enough to send me flying, the sheer pain that overwhelmed every ounce of self control I'd forced on myself to keep moving through the orc's attacks was from those tiny little paws of a now very pissed off fox.

That little thief had come up from the side and wailed into me, and it was all I could do to back away from him. Swipe! He struck the air in front of my belly and stumbled over his own feet. I gasped, thankful for his miss while wondering just how hard I had hit him before, and not wasting this opportunity to step away from him. Try to gather my breath, try to hold onto that crystal.

But he keeps coming, a duck under my head that brings him right in line for my chest, an underhanded blow that I couldn't possibly move fast enough to avoid. But this one hit the ribs, and it was nowhere near as paralyzing as the belly blows from before. I'm on my feet and stunned, rather than sprawling on the ground crying.

He dances to one side and slams a kneecap into my belly button, the entire rounded curve of my gut denting in from the center and then rebounding back like a reverse trampoline. This time the sensation was one of my guts turning to water and a wave flowing across the skin.

"A-aaahh ..." my tiny scream gasps out, sucking air for all the good it did me. But I still held onto the crystal ball.

The fox thief tries to bring his leg up again for a kick, but I just barely manage to throw my weight to the far side, dodging away from him and leaving the fuzzy bastard slightly off-balance. Perfect time for my tail to swing out and move to sweep his legs. Hurt to move, hurt to breathe, I couldn't say a word, but I was still fighting. Half delirious from more suffering than I'd have ever imagined before taking this job, and I was in the fight.

Sweep. Flop.

I was winning the fight, his body spun through the air once when his legs were knocked aside with enough force to flip them above his head, and he kept tumbling until he was a gasping heap on the ground. Stunned and trying to get back up. Can't let that happen.

A step forward. Well, no that would be lying. A limp forward in three claws, just getting within reach and lifting my free hand up high enough to place the center of my palm on his back. Hold him down, threaten him with the claws. Yeah, having a voice and being able to stretch my belly out would have been really nice right now, but I don't think aggressively crying on him will be all that intimidating. So claws it was, and hope he could figure out the message.

One claw tucked under his shoulder, another fingernail pressed against his neck, a thick finger curling the other shoulder and prodding his ribs. If I wanted to be a terrible person I could probably have torn his arms off given the difference in strength, at the very least this was the equivalent of a knife to his throat.

Flash of green!

Movement, to my left!

It was easy to see the big orc coming at me with a scowl on his face and a broken hand held back. If I weren't in so much pain I could have probably dodged the swing, or attacked him first. So hard to move while my belly is screaming me to just sprawl out and stretch, and there was no way I'd deliberately expose myself like that in the middle of this fight. However much I wanted to.

A swinging uppercut that comes in like a haymaker, slams his entire forarm over the length of my belly, his fist poking out one side and his shoulder pressed against my pudge. All while rocketing upward with a loud SLAP!

I was airborn again, my spine bending inward and smashing into the roof, while my legs and tail and face were all just coming along for the ride. My face was tucked between my hind legs for the rise upward, and then once my back hits the roof everything straitens out. Back of my horns slamming into wood, the bottom of my heels crunching through a support beam. My back exposed to freezing cold and swirling snow, all while giving my belly a moment of being mercifully flat. It wasn't stretched out as much as I'd have preferred, but it eased a small fraction of the never-ending pain.

Then I fell back down to the floor of course, and there was nothing to it but belly flopping into hard cement. The resounding crunch as my body displaces air, like the crack of a whip. The single hard slap of every part of my belly all impacting at once. There was no squash and stretch, no molding and deforming in shape, this was flat against flat in the worlds most horrific slap.

Belly flopping onto water is painful enough.

Going belly first into smooth stone floors, my chin cracking into the ground and my claws tearing open chunks of the scenary.

I. Could. Not. Move.

Pain flooded in from the very core of my being, a sensation that snuffed out any feeling my arms might have had, it made my tail numb and my face almost act as if it weren't even there. Every bit of my awareness focused so exclusively on that tummy, all of the belly, from loins to chest, trying to recover from that stinging slap.

The impact didn't even penetrate all that deep, unlike the massive blows or the striking jabs this was just a stinging all over the skin. A wide slap that hits everywhere rather than a shoving punch that deals actual damage.

I wanted to breathe, I wanted to cry, it was all I could do to keep from curling back into a ball and just letting darkness take me. But I couldn't manage to get my arms to respond, even when looking right at them.

Thud, thud, the orc came closer to me. His bare feet next to my shoulders. A free hand reaching down, grasping at the orb in my claws.

No ....

NOOOOooooo!

Maybe it was shakey, but I was on my feet and snapping at his arm all the same. Vision went black for a moment, I could taste blood in the air. Did I bite him? No, that taste of iron was from biting my own tongue. Maybe that's why you shouldn't use teeth in a real fight.

Up, swing, it was too slow and awkward. Easy for the Orc to dodge out from under my arm.

A shove forward, a vicious elbow right to the nose, but that was so much less painful than the dull stinging across my midsection that I could ignore it entirely. He wasn't going to stop this, talking would never work, and as sure as the gods are my witness he wasn't afraid to face off against a dragon. I had to end this, soon, before someone really gets hurt.

I slash now. Claws in one hand fully extended, raking into the air near his face. A close shave if he hadn't ducked back, but when I went to punch with my other arm I ended up stumbling. Can't let go of the orb.

He takes advantage of the stumble by pressing under my guard, ducking beneath my neck, and trying to strike his fist into my gut. WHAM! And then I'm reeling in even more pain, one deep spike of agony piercing just above the belly button, now mixing amongst the wide-spread ocean of stinging pain.

I lash out again. Don't have the skill to actually match him, but I must surely have the durability to outlast him. If only I could aim properly through the pain, and my furious attempts weren't so halfhearted and limp.

The orc ducks to my left now, making sure to stay within reach of my orb. Another stike, another horrifically painful blow that makes stars swirl across my vision and leaves me to wonder if my gut will ever be comfortable again. Can't let him win though, so I swing blindly with my elbow and shove a shoulder into his face, while my clawed hand reaches for a leg.

You'd think trying to pull his leg would have just been a silly little thing, or that maybe I could have made a pun out of it.

CRUNCH! And then tumble, the battered, tired orc fell onto his back and cried out in a mix of rage and panic. He was on the ground, now was my chance.

A struggle to get back up, I had the mass and strength on my side but he had the skill and technique. He manages to curl his hips up and make for an awkward crouch, while I turn and try to press my advantage. Claw. Bite. Rend!

No skill involved, no grand strategy, and no more holding back. My free hand rakes across his face, drawing lines of blood to match the bruises and now leaving a strait gash in the middle of his left fang. But he hasn't flinched. My fist bashes down where his head used to be, but an elbow lifting up to deflect and his neck swiveling to one side thwarted the blow. My jaws snap over his face, but his injured hand shoves my cheeks to the side and leave me tearing into the flooring.

Okay, I wasn't exactly good at mauling people. It's not a skillet I've ever considered worth having until now, alright? And the fact I was having trouble even staying conscious and my whole world was pain and belly blows were overtaking my every waking thought didn't make any of this easier, not one bit!

A hard shove from the orc trying to lift himself up, trying to crawl away from me. But I kept on him, pressing down his legs with my weight alone, crawling after him as he tries to slink away, slinks closer to the now busted door frame.

You'd really think I'd get used to surprise belly blows by now, wouldn't you? Blame it on the pain. I could barely tell what was right in front of me, peripheral vision was sort of skill too advanced for my mental facilities here.

CLANG! And then the sounds of me whimpering, eyes bulging wide and my back arching like a terrified cat. A look to the left to see that darned fox thief, bleeding and bruised and still very injured, having already swing a metal pipe into my gut that managed to more than distract me from tearing into his buddy.

CLANG!CLANGCLANGCLANGCALNGCLANGCALNG

The flurry of baps against my face was less immediately dangerous and more an annoying distraction. Like having someone sucker punch you with iron knuckles only to fallow it up by whapping your nose with a newspaper over and over again. It made me blink, it made me back up, it made me roar!

And when that same pipe whacked into the back of my throat, I didn't hesitate from simply biting down.

The pipe broke. Shards of metal splintering away, the fox now terrified as he holds onto the jagged end, and my mouth now dripping with blood and metal and more than a little drool. I growled with a feral resolve, knowing full well that if I went all out and unrestrained against this one then there wouldn't be a fox left. I almost considered it.

Right up until the orc decided to chime in by standing up.

Yes, I was still on top of him.

And yes, when he lopped my belly over the side of his shoulders and staggered to his feet, I was taken aback by the sudden feeling of vertigo. Thank you for noticing. It is very disconcerting when your feet are all too suddenly not connected with the floor. If I hadn't been so busy floundering I might have even managed to fight back.

Toss! Flop, I land on my side and skid towards the far wall. Scales leaving a trail of sparks when they scrape over the floor with a harsh grind, the chance of starting a fire kept low only by the sheer din of numerous openings for the cold wings and sheets of snow to come spiraling in.

I start clawing my way to my feet, the fox looking like he was about to drop and the orc looking all but defeated. He stares down at his mangled hand, thinking something over. The depression in his eyes, as if hope was dangled before him and then snatched away.

"I ... c-can help ..." I wheeze out, quiet and agonized. I saw a blur of green and white when my eyes were out of focus, and after a blink it would clear up for a few seconds. "W-when I have ... have magic ... I can heal you ..."

Those were not the correct words to offer.

The orc steels his resolve. He limps toward the stone table, thick granite that was carved to resemble a bed, built for the durability needed to support even the heaviest of dragons.

This orc, whoever this guy is, places both hands near the bottom of the table. His good hand gripping the side, his ruined hand curling up underneath. And then he lifts.

Ignoring pain every bit as much as I was right then, the orc lifts and the table rises. Up to his chest, up to his head. Above his head, carried high in shaky hands while the man strides forward on wobbly legs.

I managed to make it to my feet as well, and would have put up a fight if not for that blasted fox. Darting in beneath my reach, moving faster than I could track at the moment, and jabbing into my gut. Just enough to throw me off balance, more than enough to keep me distracted by the stacking pain.

CRUNCH!

The orc swings his table, and the entire mass of stone bonks onto the side of my head. Throwing my back a bit, crashing into the scales on my shoulder. The stone cracks while I remain unbroken.

Another crack, another crunch, this orc lifts up high with both arms and slams it down onto my back, directly over the space. Body bracing under the weight, I bare it with strain and almost fall back to my knees. But the fox darted away. And even this massive improvised club just wasn't enough. An orc wielding a weapon larger and heavier than his own body, and my scales just shrug it off.

It hurt, yes. Bit nothing broke.

He raises high, using two hands and fighting through obvious strain, his muscles bulging to keep everything stable and his body looking as if were about to give out at any moment. I get my revenge.

Closed fist, a single strike, extending my punch out toward his gut to give the orc a belly blow. It was like punching iron, my fist bouncing off without noticeably affecting him, and left to await another ineffectual drop from the stone. His entire strategy seeming to revolve around letting the thing drop on me rather than having to slam it dow- ...

No.

He kicks.

With the stone above his head, he kicks right into my gut to send me twirling away. Punted off my feet, left rolling onto my back and grasping at air. A soft gaze now looking up, alarmed and hurt and laying prone while he holds the stone so high.

"N-no ..."

My belly up, while he holds a stone block larger than I was right above me. There weren't enough nopes in the world to convey how terrified I was in right that instant.

"Orcs. Will. Be. Free." He grunts through obvious pain, and then slams it down.

Indescribable. The belly flop was a wide sting like an ocean of torment, reaching everywhere but not going deep. The punches were a stabbing wound, reaching deep but staying localized. This?

This did both. Everything. All of the pain everywhere, flattening my entire gut into itself and leaving my body no room to curl up, no give beyond my belly compressing beneath the weight. The block crumbles against me in a shower of dust and pebbles,

Hearing those final words, knowing I've lost, I've failed, and that this insane orc bested a dragon ... he ...

Darkness overtakes me.

A welcoming emptiness that leaves me free. Free from the awful, nightmare bellyaches.

And at this point I don't care how long I'm out for.