The Law is the Law

[Narthok 10416]

 

The Law is the Law
 

Spoiler

 

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It is a terrible thing to break a promise.

 

This has long been known amongst the Urukim. What is a broken promise if not a long lie. Our forefather, Krug, the first Uruk. Eternal enemy of the lie-speaker. It is from his example that we derive our purpose. It is from his example that we can know wisdom. 

 

We Urukim are not a wise people. Our young warriors, slaves to the fire in their blood, die, often before their 20th moon. Our ancients recoil from the burden, the obligation of passing on wisdom. But even these know so little. What wisdom is known is kept close to the chest. A legacy of the countless centuries of Urukim war.

 

Who is the greatest enemy of the Uruk? Another Uruk.

 

Who has shed more greenskin blood than any other? The Urukim. It is a terrible break a promise. It is a terrible thing to tell a lie, to dance the tongue dance as the humans do. But what is graver still is to snuff out the life of a child of Krug. 

 

When the wise of the Urukim; few that there are, pass the old wisdom to the deaf ears of the young warriors, they often fail to explain the why behind the wisdom. Why do we, children of Krug, hold ourselves as truth-speakers. Why do we bind ourselves in the steel-strong word chains of promises and oaths. Why is the loss of a single Uruk life such a tragedy.

 

Sit and listen. For amongst the Clans and the Tribes I am known by the name Thrall, today I hope to share what little wisdom I have gained by listening to those who were truly wise. 

 

To be Urukim is firstly to share the blood of Krug the first Uruk. But that is not enough. There are many, shameful wanderers who have abandoned the duties of our race for the temptations of the world. These lost ones may look like Urukim, they even speak and behave like Urukim. But for those who labour every day to keep the precepts of Krug, they are not us. 

 

Why? Much in the fashion that the smith fashions the knife to cut meat, and the axe to hew lumber, the children of Krug, images of the first and the greatest derive our purpose from the end for which we were made. Why do the children of the Orcfather tower over the other races. Why were were made with great strength of limb, with vast fang and tusk. Why are we DIFFERENT from the others.

 

The Elf is a human with long ears. The Dwarf is a stout human. But who can say that the Urukim resemble any of these common races. We are a race set apart, and we have been set apart for a great mission. As our great-sire was the only one to successfully resist the lie-speaker, that great and hated enemy of all life, enemy of all that is good in this world, we his many children are made for that same purpose. 

 

When the warrior holds the war-axe or the fine spear in his hand he hears its song in his palm. Every inch of the beautifully made weapon cries out to be used for its purpose. So too with the Uruk. 

 

It is for this reason, we, set aside as the great enemy of the lie-speaker that we are the most hated, the most despised by the lie-speaker and his innumerable slaves. The others are laden with mild burdens, brief life, greed for all that glitters and sparkles, few children.

 

How can these trifles compare to the great flaming bonds that have been placed upon the very soul of our race. Each day, everyone of us is forced to contend with the blood-fire. That permanent siren-song of war-madness that dwells in the heart and in the blood of all children of Krug. The lie-speaker, in his great terror of our forebear, has always schemed to hinder us, the race made to oppose him.

 

This is the WHY that lays under the feet of all other Uruk wisdom. We do not lie because we are reflections of Krug, because we oppose the tongue-dance, the thousand tiny harmless children of the the evil one, born with each fresh false-word given beath. We keep our promises because it is only with honour and virtue, obeyed even to the terrible destructive end that the world can be freed from its slavery to the great enemy. 

 

We mourn the death of every Uruk because each child of Krug who falls needlessly is one less warrior in our great struggle against the gaping maw of oblivion. For an Uruk to kill an Uruk is to rob the great struggle for reasons of pathetic pride and desire. WEAK.

 

 

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But what of the Urukim in the world. What of their pacts and promises. What of the Horde.

 

In my absence I have learned that the Urukim have come to dance the tongue-dance. That they claim that promises and oaths are worth nothing and that only the rule of the strong matters. That the law is not the law because it obstructs the desires of the strong.

 

When did the children of Krug cut the tusks of their soul and stain their spirits pink to live and speak as the common races? What great shame I have felt in receiving this news. All of the blood spilt. The mountains of skulls and oceans of tears shed by the children of Krug to pull ourselves from the endless-war of all clans. To prove to the world that we are not slaves to the blood-fire. That the word of the Urukim is a stronger bond than the greatest of steel chains. 

 

The Horde-law, a guarantee of peace between the tribes who had come to trust the Urukim? Is it to be cast aside so easily? Do our oaths to tribes and allies mean so little? Are we to prove the lies of the world correct? Are we to act as honourless animals. Beasts on two legs with concern for little more than loot and the flow of blood?

 

If this is all that it means to be an Uruk then I shall this very day climb to the highest peak of the great desert, finally freed by the sacrifice of countless Uruk warriors, and I shall open my throat in sight of the sky and the stars.

 

But I do not believe that this pathetic beast-slavery, this bandit dishonour is what it means to be Urukim. Atleast not yet.

 

The wise Elders who came before us carved the way of tomorrow out of our ignorance and many centuried slavery. And now we, children of the Orcfather, eternal enemies of the liespeaker stand at a cross-road. The great struggle stretches out before us into eternity, a potentially endless war against the enemy of all life. Are we to finally cast of our ancient chains and embrace what we were always meant to be. Or shall we bend like WEAK REEDS IN THE WIND. Shall we give in to the blood fire, indulge in PATHETIC temptations of blood-lust and pride. Break all promises and oaths and dance the tongue dance under the weeping stars?

 

 

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Skalvor has given up the mantle of Rex. Now comes the time to speak of the future for the Horde of Many Tribes and the Urukim.

 

I am called Thrall by the clans and the tribes. I ask that the clans and the tribes gather for Horde-Klamor. I will stake my claim for Rex and for Hordespeaker. I and my brethren intend to continue on the great struggle of Krug as understood by Grommash. Let those who love the memory of the first Hordespeaker show themselves now.

 

KLAMOR: SATURDAY 12PM EST

 

[Samson Option 9652]

  

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮

Spoiler

 

 

“Where once dunes toppled the grasses”

“Where once Skalvor Rex moved the masses”

“Our tide & time as Urukim recedes now”

“When the Rex & his strongest-willed do bow”

“A fell hour & its effects curtain our desert”

“Krug our Father pardon us as the brittlebones have hurt”

“Our cohesion with their youth dressed in green-skins”

“They were bored! Such is the lie they stole & now fence”

“But Krug our Father, let it not be said”

“That the Taunttongue ignored Thrall's call who read”

“From your way & taught me my place in the most rugged land”

“I will heed the call and make clear where I stand”

“The Urukim requires a Rex of sage mind & steady hands”

“Not green-skin wearing brittlebone warbands”

“Zoliz'in ( @yuk33 ) & Zhu'runa ( @Aelesh ), we return from our exile now”

“Let us eclipse this desert & see what portents we bring”

 

 

[MrMojoMordor 2413]

Bon'Ox - the 8-times failed politician stands in colorful clothes, with a mask & a fake name.
Abandoning Uruk pride & trying to become a Jester in a Lord's house.
 

It's the only way for a non-Horde-regular Uruk to make political commentary these days.

Also to hide from his responsibilities & cause mischief with the aid of the Spirits to chase away boredom.