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OLD WOUNDS REOPENED


Mickaelhz
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Mika Goldhand would look over the missive with nothing but a simple nod upon his features filled with thought ”Then for Urguan it shall be, my blade will be red with blood and my armour worn out only through a BATTLE OF HONOR!he’d say before shouting out the dwarven cryARUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU” as he is making his way away from the missive to inform his close friends and family that he might not return for a while

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A younger Uruk, green in skin and experience, grins with excitement at the prospect of his very first battle. The gravity of the situation has not reached the young man as he marks a page in his journal for his first war poem.

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A large kub pounds his fists against his chest wildly, his eyes bloodshot as he’d scream “WAAAAAAGHHHHHHHH” among his brethren, shaking the halls of Krugmar. Orcs of all shape and size would file through the forge, hammers and banging of metal sounding throughout the castle.

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”Go hit medul wif hammur mijetZ!” Bapzapz calls out.

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The fetus of a baby ireheart would chuckle. . .

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Aru! Aru! Aru! Nagorain would shout as he would sharpen his axe

 

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Gimgrimmor unzips his bagpipes with Dwarven Intent.

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