Tempers had flared in the camp as the followers of Zorbag and Nasha got in each other's faces, swore a lot, and generally postured. The instrumental moment in the formation of a hierarchical proto-state, however, occurred when Zorbag dug a big pit near where Nasha usually relieved himself in the morning, filled it with snakes that he'd caught, and then covered it in leaves. When Nasha shuffled out one morning with a full bladder, he promptly fell down the pit and was so badly bitten that by the time one of his boyz helped pull him out, his arms were so swollen and inflamed that they looked like balloons.
This made him the target of much mockery and ribald laughter, and the wavering boyz decided that they just couldn't take someone seriously when he couldn't even pick up a spear.
To general acclaim, reinforced by the fear of others who were worried there might be more snake pits waiting for them when they went to piss in the morning, Zorbag was proclaimed to be the biggest and 'ardest ork in the Blue Flash Tribe. And - it is said - he grew three inches that day.
With a crude hierarchy in place, the Blue Flash Tribe survived the winter with only minimal cannibalism. And they didn't even need to eat each other; they just did it for fun. With both fire and a regular supply of both trapped animals and grots, the radical innovations of this crude tribe of orks meant that life was vastly better than it had been back when they set out for the swamp. Better yet, as the snow started to melt, under the layers of whiteness they found the first new one of the boyz, pulled hollering from the hollow under a rotten tree stump he'd grown in.
He was promptly taken before Zorbag, sitting upon his throne of— well, it was mostly rocks, but in fairness he'd covered it with some wild boar skins so it was at least slightly more comfortable. He had his sacred smasha stick resting against the throne, a wooden club with a lump from the sacred pit on the end. A snaggle-toothed black bird perched on the back, its beady eyes locked on the newcomer; from wooden cages snakes hissed. As he took the new ork in, Zorbag casually reached into one of the cakes and pulled out a snake, biting its head off thoughtfully while tossing the body to his crow.
"Oi, fanks boss, you're da best," said the crow, swallowing the body whole. The crows had taken well to orkish as a language. "Wotcha thinking, mate?"
"I fink," Zorbag said, brow creasing with the weight of leadership and more importantly the burden of cognition, "if da snow is meltin', dat means…"
"What does it mean?" the crow asked, after Zorbag trailed away.
"It mean the snow ain't gonna be here anymore."
"... yeah?"
"Nah, ya burd. Get it? Dere's gonna be more boyz bein' found if the snow is meltin'."
"Yeah?"
"Wot if them boyz don't fink I'm da boss? Dat git Nasha might try something."
"Wotcha gonna do, boss?"
The Trials of Leadership
What does Zorbag do to try to reinforce his grip on power?
[ ] Big festival in honour of the Blue and the secret of fire. More food an' the blessing of the Blue will show everyone Zorbag's the best.
[ ] Find the biggest snake in the forest and kill it. You gotta respect Zorbag if he goes an' traps an' kills one of dem snakes that's as tall as a tree.
[ ] Go pick a fight with some of the boyz that didn't follow them to the swamp. Orks iz always up for a brawl so they won't question him if they're fightin' others.