A Position To Be Desired [As Apparent By How Often It Changes Hands]

[christman 2289]

A CALL TO CHALLENGE

 

 

From within cretinous depths, behind the shadow of the forest, did a shrill screech emanate. Followed in rapid succession, the sickening thwack of a felled beast upon a rock below reared through the leaves. As birds in droves flocked skywards, and the deer of the land were sent hurdling; as trees ceased their swaying, and a quietness came upon the lands, night came upon that fateful forest. Yet, for the creature at the call, it harboured not the sleep many of the descendants fell to.

 

For, now did that fateful Lur come to work. With fingers quick, meat was ripped from the bone of a felled elk. Devoured in motions quick, and skinned of its pelt. Not a piece was to waste, as the antlers came to adorn her cranium, and the visceral remains sunk to replenish the floor below.

 

Yet, the importance of the animal's hide came to be seen. As it was cleaned tediously, with the greened limbs o' uruk-spawn, and tanned upon a rack of make-shift nature.

 

In days to come by, said hide was tacked to the nation's board of Krugmar. Nails substituted for the bones that animal once bore. Upon it, writ in the ink of bloodied tools, words had been drawn. Scrawled in the language native to those of Krug, it read:

 

Frum Azh Uruk tu Duh Goi

 

En Krugmar, owr blarglaynd - Owr goi. Zumting hazz bin rivf truougt duh ztreetz; zurgen tru owr peepul, agh lurken en owr blargz. Et ezz ah dark ztayn upun owr komuniti, et haz taykun huld ub owr brudahz, agh zizturz, agh wi hab mayd nub grukk tu chayng et.

 

Duh znagadum ub Krugmar, haz bekoym a mezz. Ah joyk. Duh znagaz wi beur daht gib owr nazzun ztrength, hab bekoym enfectud wiff dezeez. Duh dezeez ub dizrizpekt. Ub nub zelf-dizziplin. Dey grukk nub duh kuztumz, nur duh wei ub lyf owr goi behuldz.

 

Yet, et ez nub dei fult. Et ez nub duh fult ub duh znagz whu wurk en owr goi, nur duh bruddahz agh zizturz whu tyk wipp agh own dem. Nub. Et ez duh fult ub buht azh puzzizun - harbured bi mani ub duh uruk-kynd

 

Zu tayk dizz leddur, az mi offizul dizzaprovul ub duh kurrent huldur ub duh Znagagoff. Tayk dizz decree tu bi mi challyng tu lat, Ulug.

 

Mi, Tor’Lur, demahnd change. Agh mi will du et mizelf

 

 

 

Spoiler

Here's the decree in English, since Blah may be a little difficult to understand.

 

From One Orc to The City

 

In Krugmar, our homeland - our city. Something has been rife throughout the streets; surging through our people, and lurking in our houses. It is a dark stain upon our community, it has taken hold of our brothers and sisters, and we have made no mind to change it.

 

The slavedom of Krugmar, has become a mess. A joke. The slaves we bear that give our nation strength, have become infected with disease. The disease of disrespect. Of no self-discipline. They know not the customs, nor the way of life our city beholds.

 

Yet, it is not their fault. It is not the fault of the slaves who work our city, nor the brothers or sisters who take the whip and own them. No. It is the fault of but one position - harboured by many of the orc-kind.

 

So take this letter, as my official disapproval of the current holder of the Snagagoth. Take this decree to be my challenge to you Ulug.

 

I, Tor’Lur, demand change. And I will do it myself

 

[AmericanSimp 510]

Batigak'Braduk looks to the missive, a notable huff escaping his maw as the uruk glanced toward the city of Krugmar, "Da tik ov honor, may nub bi lozt yet." The braduk then turning to step toward the heart of Almaris, etching and developing his unending plans