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Meet Zargut Bashkarak. Slugga Boy, professional git, and proud member of Warboss Rearchompa's tribe. He's a rather typical Slugga boy by all standards, not too big but not too small, wears a somewhat rusty helmet to battle, has a slugga and a choppa on his left and right hand respectively, and usually only has just enough teef on his person to buy, say, a roast squig leg. He has a chipped left tusk, a massive bullet wound scar on his right shoulder, and his green skin is of a more mossy disposition. All and all, he doesn't stand out all too much from his fellow boyz, and one could easily lose him in a crowd of other Orks, whether they be Slugga Boyz, Shoota Boyz, and everything else in between.
Even among other Orks he isn't really remarkable. He's big enough to scare a couple of Grots into submission, but that was really it. In the battlefield, his primary job is simply to rush to whatever target everyone else was rushing towards to. He isn't really brutal or all that kunnin', so his main strategy during a fight is "shoot wildly, then run in choppa swinging when the dakka runs out." The most important role he ever had in a battle was that one time a Nob used him as cannonball against an enemy Killa Kan.
Even back at the main camp no one paid him any mind. If they did, they usually said to him "Move outta mah way, git!" or "Oi! Gimme yer teef or I'll bash yer zoggin' 'ead in!" That last one usually resulted in a fight, one which he almost always lost. Personality wise, he wasn't really all that distinct. He was loud (like any other Ork), loved fighting (like any other Ork), and had poor table manners (like any other Ork).
In short, by Ork standards, he's kind of boring.
But where other Orks saw just another face in the war machine, Zargut himself knew that he possessed something the other Orks didn't: an introspective mind.
Zargut entered a massive, ramshackle building, opening the doors and revealing a mess hall inside. The lights were constantly flickering, the place had an omnipresent stench, and the floor was so dirty, it had it's own ecosystem of microscopic organisms.
As it happened, this place was quite luxurious. It was the preferred mess hall of the Warboss himself, so they had a bit of flair that the other mess halls on the camp didn't, namely crude tapestries of epic battles of old, shiny and flashy weapons of all kinds, and most notably, a giant skull of an alien monster, hanging as a trophy to the far left. Zargut usually didn't have the means to attend such a fine establishment, but as it happened, his pockets were full of teef after yesterday's battle against some of Warboss Ribbreaka's Nobs. Not only he manage to gain a hefty amount of teef after the battle, he also had the fortune of smashing the faces in of some Bad Moons that Ribbreaka had hired, so his pockets were full of teef just waiting to be spent.
All around him, Orks were shouting, stuffing various food and drinks down their gullets, and some even fist-fighting. He recognized many of the patrons here as lads that fought with him against the Nobs and survived, including, to his distaste, Ulgog Delkhap, who was busy chugging some liquid while everyone around him chanted.
He went over to the Ork who served the food, who was busy yelling at some Grots to hurry up with the cooking. Upon getting his attention, the server presented him with a full menu. Specialties included the Woody Dee-loight (a spicy drink made of an entire tree that has been distilled into pure liquid), Diggy-Diggy Bitz (various mushrooms of questionable origin mixed with freshly-dead rats. Cooked medium and seasoned with cigar ash), Frozen Nibblies (insects frozen though dry ice), Challunge o' da Gods (5 foot tall slab of raw meat. The challenge was who could fit the whole thing in his mouth without choking), Roast Squig (the whole thing, not just bits and pieces!) and the Warboss' favorite, Kick With Da Boot Dat Grot's Rear (sliced off Grot buttocks, cooked well-done, glazed with honey and served with the severed tentacles of a local cephalopod as garnish. The Boss was called Rearchompa for a reason).
Zargut made his order. Naturally, an order in an Orkish establishment involves unhinged screaming from both parties.
Zargut took his seat at an empty table to the far right of the room, one next to a wall, taking off his helmet. On that wall was one of one of the tapestries. It depicted a bunch of Orks standing triumphantly next to a settled voidship. It was a depiction of the first Orks that arrived on Greenplace, over five or six hundred years ago by this point.
If he remembered his history correctly, Greenplace was once a temperate planet, home to a developing species of aliens who had just managed to discover fire. Had the Orks not arrived, they would have been on their way to become the undisputed masters of this world.
Then the Orks came and slaughtered every last one of them, and then ate the ones who survived. They were really disappointing to kill, too, which is most likely why none of the tapestries depicted them.
It was then that Zargut heard a high-pitched scream from the kitchens. A little later, the Ork server showed up with his ordered meal of well-done Grot butt-cheeks, along with a mug of surprisingly clear water.
Zargut ate his meal with the etiquette that was expected of any self-respecting Ork: with his bare hands, chewing without closing his mouth, causing dribbles of food to get everywhere. As he slurped the tentacles, he took a look back at the tapestry. After those aliens, the Orks came to dominate Greenplace, building camps and massive factories all across its four continents. Then they immediately started fighting each other, partly because of territory disputes, but mostly to remedy the boredom. Thus, the single force that came to this planet was fractured into several different tribes. And thus the tribes fought each other for hundreds of years, rising and falling along the way.
As he took a swig from his mug, Zargut turned towards the source of the one time the tribes of the planet united: the trophy head. About two hundred years ago, these things suddenly came out of the sky one day. They had an appetite greater than even the Orks, and immediately went about devouring everything in sight. He thought they were called 'nids or something, apparently after the name the 'umies gave them.
It was a glorious fight, it was told. All the Orks in Greenspace coming together to krump the ever-living zog out of those bugs. Everyone bellowed out a mighty WAAAGH! that managed to attract some neighboring greenskins to come and join the fight. So great and apocalyptic was this war, that Greenplace, already suffering under the threads of Orkish industry, now became a husk of itself, covered in blasted out wastelands. Such a shame that Zargut didn't exist back then. What wouldn't he give to even catch a glimpse of such a thing.
Eventually, after an untold number of casualties on both sides, the alien bugs left. Then the Orks immediately back to fighting each other, the excuse being that none of them wanted to share the sharp and exotic teef of the aliens. And thus the tribes fought each other for hundreds of years, rising and falling along the way.
And so, this leads to the present. These days, there really wasn't a justification for fighting. It was usually just "those gits have stuff we like, let's krump them" or "they have a factory full of stuff that explodes, let's have them go boom" or "we just don't like them".
Thus, as he sat in a dingy mess hall and chewed on the glazed Grot rear, did Zargut began to think. Orks loved to fight, right? That's why they were constantly getting into wars, even when there was no reason for them to. In fact, fighting was, in some ways, a religious experience, evidenced by how many Orks said they saw visions of Gork and Mork while fighting. Just about facet of Ork society was geared towards fighting in some way. And yet, the last truly great battle, a place where they could get the closest to their gods, was two hundred years ago, with the time since then having been against each other. Though they could be devastating and adrenaline pumping, they obviously couldn't compare to the sheer epicness of the fight against the 'nids. Obviously, what was needed was a massive outside force to unite the greenskins into a massive WAAAGH! But did they need to? What if, Zargut wondered, he gave up on the inherent fightiness of the Orks? What if he just..... stopped fighting?
A terrifying thought, of course. The very notion of not fighting sent shivers down his spine. But if he stopped and thought about, he began to formulate a philosophy.
Gork and Mork themselves were, obviously, the Orkiest of all Orks around, but they didn't fight everywhere, right? Sure, the Weirdboyz and Yellerz said they were busy fighting each other and various other things that lived in the Warp, but that still meant there were time when they didn't fight. They didn't descend from the heavens to fight whatever battles their children fought. Indeed, talking to prophets that subsequently heralded the next WAAAGH! involved taking their sweet time not fighting and giving visions to future Bosses. So, logically, that meant there was time that was spent not fighting! So what if he did just that? Not fight when he has the choice not to?
There would be a reason for not fighting, of course. WAAAGHS! didn't happen with every single battle, and while Orks, for example himself, enjoyed battle as they should, it didn't have the same sort rapture that a WAAAGH! would. There must have been a reason why a WAAAGH! happened as rarely as it did. Zargut then noted that a WAAAGH! never happened against other Orks. Of course it didn't. Why would Gork and Mork intentionally put such harm over their children? That obviously meant that they must have waited in the heaven above for Orks to stop fighting, and unite as brothers in one glorious yell. For that to happen though, a single Ork must take initiative and stop fighting.
As he idly munched on a tentacle, Zargut could now see himself doing just that. Not fighting whenever some git called him names, taking his life easy, becoming a sort of mentor and teacher among the boyz. Yes, he would become a Super Ork, able to impose values and ideas himself. No longer would he have to listen to someone bigger than him telling him what to do. His teachings will spread, and he will become the new Boss of all of Greenplace! A Super Ork would be able to glimpse at the majesty that were Gork and Mork. He would become their next prophet, congratulating him and his students for not lashing out at every given opportunity. And for his patience, he would receive a vision of a WAAAGH! the likes of which the universe has never seen before! It would be beautiful! Green as far as the eye can see, dakka flying everywhere! It brought a tear to his eye just thinking about it.
Yes! He will become the herald of a new way of thinking! He would call it: Zargutilism. He would teach greenskins all around that fighting at every chance is not the answer! That they should wait patiently, and a new WAAAGH! would come to them eventually! And in that moment, a new Ork was born. Zargut Bashkarak swore that he would make himself an example of the philosophy in which he lived by. No more lashing out at every chance for him! He would become the herald of a new age for Orkkind, remembered as the greatest thinker this zogging universe had ever seen! He could already feel himself becoming calmer by the second, a zen master in a sea of barbarity, so once the great WAAAGH! came, he would unleash that rage as much as his heart desired! And that example would start toda-
*CLONK*
Something heavy hit the top of his head, snapping the Slugga Boy out of his euphoria. As he rubbed his head in in pain, he looked up to see Ulgog standing over him with a crooked grin. In his hand was Zargut's mug of water.
"Saw ya starin' off into da distance," he growled. "Wha's da mattah? Ye saw a ghost er sumthin'? 'Cause if ya did, ya need ta go to a Dok ta get yer head checked, mate!"
Everyone around him laughed.
"Here, I knowz wot will make ye snap outta it!"
He then splashed the water all over Zargut's face. Then threw the mug away and took a bite out of the unfinished Grot rear.
Zargut charged at him screaming.
Zargut eventually found himself planted face down on some dirt near a warbike workshop. As he gathered his bearings, he saw his helmet lying not too far away. After putting it one, he checked his person. He still had his slugga and choppa, but pockets, once full of teef, were now completely empty. He slowly remembered what happened.
After he charged at Ulgog, a massive fight broke out in the mess hall. This caused the Ork server to get a shoota and blast several of the patrons' brains out. When the chaos stopped, he broke up Zargut and Ulgog. After punching the zog out of both of them, he demanded they pay him not only for the meals, but for the damages caused to his establishment (in other words, give me all your teef). He then kicked them both out as hard as he could.
Zargut grumbled something under his breath, stretched himself, and started walking with no particular destination in mind.
Maybe it was due to being hit on the head with a mug. Maybe it was due to rage at Ulgog. Maybe it was getting the daylight knocked out of him by the server. Maybe he just didn't care. But at that moment, Zargut Bashkarak completely forgot about the philosophy that he just made up.