Game of Throw

"What are they doing?" Sheyla asked, confused at the orcs' moves. They've been staying at the center of the arena for almost an entire hour. 

"Is it possible that they are waiting for us?" George said. 

"This is a certainty more than a possibility," Aito replied. Now that he thought about it, there was never a fixed time limit to the fights. This meant that orcs if they so desired, could simply wait it out until the humans launched an attack. "The question is, why?"

Ogoro took off his new helmet he had taken from an orc since his old one had been reduced to a pulp. Wiping off the sweat on his face, he said, "Damn, it's getting hotter by the passing minutes." 

"Here," George said, conjuring a lower pressured water bullet on top of Ogoro's head, splashing the grey-haired man. 

"How refreshing. I'm truly glad you joined our team for the sixth floor. Don't know how we would have managed in that heat without you."