Blood On The Horizon

[Zezimus 1523]

 

As darkness slowly begins to envelope the lands of the Grand Kingdom of Urguan, the High Prophet, Morgrim Grandaxe make a slow stride up towards the battlements of the great dwarven city of Kal’Ithrun. Between his teeth rests a large wooden pipe, from which a steady plume of smoke continues to rise. He looks up into the sky stretching high above him. A vastness of clouds blanket his view, rolling from one end of the horizon to the other. Yet upon this night, something was unusual. He looked now upon a sky of red, an omen of which many would deem a sign from the gods that bloodshed was soon to come.

 

Unsure of whether to delve into such frivolous thought however, the dwarf places a stubby finger into the end of the pipe, extinguishing the flame as he proceeds to make his way down towards the clergy district. Once within, Morgrim makes his way towards the great shrine of Dungrimm, the patron of his clan. He looks to the clergy racks, lifting an ornate crimson robe over his shoulders, proceeding thereafter to stretch his fingers around a large golden sceptre, its hilt imbued with a variety of jewels uncovered from within the deepest depths of the dwarven mines. Stepping up towards the altar as a crowd of dwarves begin to assemble around him, he looks from dwarf to dwarf, his arms outspread and the sceptre raised slightly off of the ground. Speaking in a tone of sincerity, his voice resonates throughout the hall.

 

 

“Sons ov Urguan! Let it beh known t’at ah call up'awn ye all 'awn t’is day tuh offeh wut guidance ah can upon t’e mattah ov t’is war weh foind ourselves facin'. Ah speak tuh ye nawt ahs ‘an ‘oigh Prophet ‘er aneht’in’ but t’e mortal bein’ ah ‘am. T’ough t’e gods ‘ave goided maeh t’rough t’e yers, it seems weh ‘ave reached ah troubled crossruud in our nation’s ‘istoreh. N’ ah will sum’toimes ask mehself wut became ov t’e days weh wud drink n’ feast ‘eartileh wit’in’ our mead ‘alls… Ah ask wut becam’ ov t’ose days wer’ weh ‘ad nawt anothah care beyun’ t’e walls ov own ‘omes! T’erefur’, ah mus’ admit t’at ah’ve ‘ad mah fair share ov doubt upon t’e mattah ov war… T’is mah belief t’at weh ar’ nawt tuh interfere wit’in’ t’e affairs ov othahs wit’out valued reason. Whethah ‘er nawt we ‘ad t’at reason ‘as becom’ ah mattah ov dispute in recent days ‘owevah.

 

Suh tuh admit t’at t’e will ov t’e gods is nawt clear ‘awn t’e mattah… Ah will say t’is. Weh ‘ave aged n’ suh tuh ‘as t’e world in which weh liv’. T’e mountains, t’e trees, t’e animals… All ‘ave changed wit’ us. Weh face an unfamiliar land frum t’at ov our ancestors wer’ peace is nuh lun’er tuh pursuit ov maneh n’ instead, war ‘as becum’ t'e woidah means ov determinin' 'o is roight or wrun'. ‘owevah, t’is important weh remain truh tuh our way… Fer iff weh ar’ tuh truleh up’old Yemekar’s Balance, weh can nawt fer'evah becom' driven baeh conflict.”

 

“T’is becom’ clear t’at ah beh brought tuh t’e decision ov whethah ah wud support t’is troubled cause… N’ maybeh aye, ah duh nawt… Maybah ah duh. Yet fer t’ose loike ‘oi ‘o doubt t’is, ah ask t’at ye ‘ear wut ah ‘ave t’say. Despoite t’e stabiliteh ov recent yers, weh ar’ ah nation ov conflict… Our past ‘as baehn plagued wit’ ah troubled ‘istoreh ov violence n’ war. Yet loike t’e purpose Yemekar bestowed upon us, weh ar’ seekahs ov t’e peace. T’ese Carrions may nawt ‘ave sought war but t’eir people sureleh did… Enuff suh t’at t’ey wud mock n’ insult us, even ahs t’e must sacred ov ceremonehs wus bein’ performed upon t’e Grand King.  T’eir expansions upon our territoreh, t’eir outroight disdain ov aneh ‘o follow ah faith othah t’an t’eir own doctrine. Ar’ t’ese t’e marks ov ah peaceful n’ cordial nation?

 

Ye ‘ave been called tuh foight fer ye Kingdom n’ ye race. Yet duh nawt duh suh becus’ ye ‘ave baehn asked tuh. Foight becus’ iff ye duh nawt, t’ere will com’ ah day w’en t’is conflict will ag’en rear its ‘ead upon our uwn kin. T’e ‘uman loives ar’ suh short t’at t’ey fail tuh see bey’un’ t’eir uwn ends. T’eir petteh roivalries n’ distaste fer aneh nawt ov t’eir uwn cultur’ ‘as left t’eir moinds weak n’ susceptible tuh corruption. Aye, fer t’e shadow ov Khorvad ‘s left its mark greatleh. Fer t’ose ‘o shall fall, Dungrimm will goide ‘awn tuh t’e great ‘alls ov t’e aftahloife. Ye ar’ dwarves! T’e sons of Urguan, t’e chosen ov our creator tuh defend against t’e toide ov evil. Nuh mattah t’e ‘orrors weh face, ‘er t’e kin weh luus, weh ‘ave nevah surrendered tuh t’e darkness!”

 

“‘ear now t’at t’e onleh truh judgement beh t’at ov t’e gods... Fer t’is t’ey ‘o will deem ‘o’s cause is wun ov honour n' roighteousness. Suh let t’is foight beh Yemekar’s judgement… Iff weh ar’ t’e fail, weh duh suh knuwin’ t’at weh ar’ stroivin’ fer ah cause, unfavoured baeh t’e gods weh serv’. N’ yet iff weh ar’ tuh succeed ‘owevah, fate ‘as led us alun’ t’e path ov gloreh. Ye ‘ave each naow tuh decoide which road yuh will take. Ah pray t’at Dungrimm n' Anbella will goide ye all w’en t’e toime com’s tuh make t’at decision.”

 

Morgrim lowers his arms, his brown eyes gleaming across the crowd of dwarves. For like the wars of old, the time would soon come where they would all be called upon to fight in the name of their creator.

[Rig 17584]

Someone cheers. "FER DIZZEH!"

[Serf 647]

"Bah, we shoold 'o just stayed oot 'o a war t'at is nae ur problem an' just make a profit from t'ere bodies. Per'aps one day tae Brathmordakin can send us a Grand King tae one day t'ink before sendin' ur kin an' cousins into a pointless war."

[Zezimus 1523]

Morgrim looks towards Thoak, gently nodding his head as he runs his stubby fingers through his braided beard.

 

"Aye, per'aps ye 'ave reason tuh believe such wurds ar' true. 'owevah, t'ere is nuh turnin' back now. Weh mus' pray t'at t'e gods ar' wit' t'ose 'o mus' join t'is foight n' let fate decoide wut 'appens frum 'ere. Ah can onleh 'ope weh liv' tuh see t'e end ov it."

[Mucky 443]

Someone cheers. "FER DIZZEH!"

no

[Dreek 1633]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.