Grett had awoke not long ago when the sound of shuffling feet and clinking chains drifted toward him from beyond the darkness of his hood. He was still dazed and exceptionally sore from the beating he'd recieved but he was still able to tell that several people were now in the room with him. Unfortunately, none of those he assumed were his captors moved close enough for him to headbutt. Those in the room, were, however, well within range of the strings of vile obscenities he flung at them as well as mocking gibes claiming none of them knew how to give a proper beating, threats of obscenely grisly murder, and questioning of their mothers' sexual morality. Nothing he said got a rise out of his captors, much to his frustration.

He verbally abused his captors from the moment they arrived to the moment the door to the room clanged shut. The Ork Hunter was left to his own thoughts and the soreness in his ribs once more. He attempted to wriggle free of his bonds for the hundreth time to no avail but that didn't stop him from trying a hundredth and first time. A harsh sigh escaped what was left of his lips and the tooth-shaped projections on the cyberneric half of his jaw. Despite his assertion his captors didn't know how to beat a man, he was forced to acknowledge their proficiency at securing bindings. 

He soon became aware of shallow breathing in the darkness. From his count there were at least four other people in the room, possibly more, now shackled in the room with him. 
"Oi!" he called out, "any of you awake?"