Cheezzy_Garlik

“Diz like soopa epik. Wazh dere wallz wiff dere grukkaz. Turn da skiez black wiff fete DOOM!” Said Grishlûk’Raguk. The aging shaman from deep within the bowels of his clan hall, as he worked away on a secret project.

Grishlûk’Raguk dabbed up his new crimson brother. The armor of Leydlûk clamoring against the large uruk as he did.

When Tabby joined the server he was 12 years old… he joined last year or maybe later :O …idk matta, making a 13 year old a moderator isn’t a good look

I would never play a based esotheric redskin-pilled gigachad orc.

Worshipping spirits with extra steps. make more lesser spirits, make an ork while your at it ; )

Grishlûk’Raguk sits on a barstool, next to DA GREAT KAPTIN FISHBREF!!! and reads the whitewash notice alone with him. “Ha, mi grukz sum wytwazhes gunna bi all pissy.”

“Dat point syztem wuz dumma dan a olog wiff uh toomur” Says Grishlûk’Raguk

“Datz ah dum name fur ah Raguk” -Said Grishlûk’Raguk , Son of Nagg, Son of Blood, Chosen of Leydlûk, Wargoth of Clan Raguk

Damn daz Krazy -Grishluk’Raguk

Grishlûk’Raguk Stared down at the missive, chewing on a Thundakrug brownie from his recliner within his house in Haelu’nor. He lifted his reading specs to make sure that his name wasn’t listed, then he folded it up and stuck it in the rest of the missives. The Uruk slowly growing a beer gut. “Eh, dey may stink like zhit, but maybe we don’t turn dere grizh into booz, wen Mi alreddi makin grapez uv Gazigash.”

I got a 1 month ban + appeal for saying that the only reason I would log onto the server was to spite it. I didn’t log onto the server to spite it nor did I plan too, my joke was taken out of context yet I still suffered the consequences of breaking the rules without breaking ANY rule. Pls fix this, I don’t see how I can write an appeal that makes coherent sense. : )

Mid

Freewud free Gar_Lik

I’d like to mention again, that I was rebanned for a month + appeal after an already 1 month ban for saying “I will only log on to spite the server”. Matta said it was to keep the server safe from me. I consider that bs. I’d like a change of admin but it won’t happen cus the person who oversees that is…the admins

JUST ******* LEAVE! ITS FOR YOUR OWN GOOD!!

Grishlûk’Raguk did in fact not listen to the manic blabbering from a fool, from the top of the city and continued his meditation in the deep bowels of the Orcish Citadel.

GO THE **** OUTSIDE PLEASE, but put on sunscreen

Was there ever a time when Admin team wasn’t just full of people with hate boners and overdeveloped god complexes that wanted to flex how powerful they were by putting their hairy ass belly in your face and tried to make you lick their sweaty ass balls?

Only 15 words?!?! Guess no more war chants : /

You’ve been playing for 11 years? And haven’t been groomed once? That’s gotta be a record somewhere

build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build build

The Days grew long and tiresome for the Crimson goth of the Raguk Clan. Grishlûk’Raguk was once without title, was once a simple Uruk in search of meaning, of a purpose. Once he had grown to his full strength as a Witch Doctor, the Greater Spirit of Blood and Bone had taken a liking to him, choosing this orc to be her Champion, her greatest of zealots to follow out her every will and spread her name across the far reaches of every land! “Grishlûk, your constant worship and sacrifices have pleased me, however it is not enough my lovely child. Take these boons, and with it spread my name to each person in Almaris. Grishlûk, my Chosen, Strengthen my hall, and fill my chalice!” With this, The Blood Mother sent her champion back to the mortal plane. His purpose was clear, and his determination absolute. The great spirit had blessed the goth with a multitude of boons that day, the first was his Longsword, a blade that once held high regard amongst the many smiths across Almaris, now had a place among the tongue of the many shamans of The Iron Uzg. For whenever it was held by Grishlûk, The blade began to excrete a never ending stream of blood, to coat the blade as he used it to slaughter those who stood to oppose the Great Gazigash. His second was a staff, what was once a normal walking stick had contorted and twisted, knotting and corrupting itself. It charred itself, turning as black as charcoal. A decrepit hand made of the knotted wood of the staff grew from the head of the wood. Within the palm of this “hand” was a small ball of blood red fire that would never extinguish. Seemingly fueling this fire was the constant pumping of the visible blood veins that twisted in and out of the accursed staff. The final boon that Gazigash had granted upon her Chosen was an enhancement to his bloodlust, causing him to not just constantly crave the heat of battle, but the very stench, taste, and feeling of blood. He needed it, like he needed to breathe. Through the coming Decades, Grishlûk had disappeared, after succumbing to his first bout of his enhanced bloodlust, he almost killed his closest Ally and fellow spirit Worshiper. This horrified the Raguk, who fled the Citadel of Krugmar, he was ashamed of himself and vowed to never return until he could control his hunger for Blood. It took decades, and longer to learn to keep his bloodlust on check. Once he had mastered his savagery, he returned to the goi, in which he had come across a great beast, with wings as large as a house and eyes made of fire! The Raguk let his bloodlust take control of him! His eyes erupted in white flame. He single handedly fell the beast, Savagely butchering it with his Bloodletters blade, not stopping until every ounce of the creatures life essence had left its mangled corpse. The old Orc Hu-Din had witnessed this battle, and dubbed the Goth, Grishlûk “The Violent”. From that day on, word would spread of the Goth of Clan Raguk’s Savagery and relentlessness during the heat of battle. It has spread so far that even the great Spirit of War, Bloodlust and Rage ENROHK had heard of this Orc. One night as the Raguk slept within the bowels of his Clan Hall, Enrohk entered his dreams, pulling his body out of his sleep and into the Ash wasteland and war torn hellscape of Enrohk’s realm. “Grishlûk, Wargoth of Clan Raguk? You are the one they deem “The Violent”?” The towering giant of a greater spirit asked the Red orc “Dat mi iz o’ Ilzgûl ub Wagh, wub du lat wish uv mi?” Grishlûk responded “You will spread my name, crush your enemies in my name!” The spirit demanded However Grishlûk did not budge “Nub! Mi allegianze iz tu Gazigash, mi iz ‘er Chozen agh mi will kontinue on mi paff in ‘er name!” This was an insult to the great spirit of war, a spit in the face. Enrohk gave no response other than banishing the goth from his realm and leaving his dreams. Grishlûk thought nothing more of this interaction, however as the days passed, he found it harder to control his bloodlust, he founds that the veins on his body turned black, and the tusks in his maw changed as if they had a mind of their own, twisting into some sort of giant lion's fangs. Eventually Grishlûk’s Bloodlust was a part of his hourly life, every minute he fought his urge to not just kill, but to destroy and burn and maim whatever was in sight. He could no longer sleep, as every time he closed his eyes, he saw The Uzg in flames. His kin slaughtered and their charred bodies hung from rooftops and stuck to pikes. The skies turned black as bright red lightning ruptured through the clouds. At the center of this nightmare was Grishlûk, however his once blood red skinned had turned black, and his eyes turned red. In his right hand he held the torch that would burn the world, and in his left he held the severed head of Rex Ar-Borok’Akaal!

A towering Wargoth, with skin as red as blood strides through the Jungles and forests surrounding the Orcish Citadel and Elven City. He strokes the head of his mighty War Elephant as he remarks to himself “ ”Diz iz reeli starting tu gitz annoyin, wunz mi ziege enginez iz komplete, dere walls will crumble like old dog zhit…in da wind” The goth takes his charred, blackened staff and holds the flame of it to the sky. “Gazigazh, Lo’ Gazigazh. Grîzh tu hûn Grîzh tu hôn”

hehe this is exactly what i wanted time to spin a web

A Crimson skinned Wargoth sat alone in a pool of blood beneath his Grish’Drû, his Blood Willow. The flesh and bone tree swayed in the wind as the voices of rage invaded his mind. His zealous worship of Enrohk had transformed his bloodlust from a once constant thought in the back of his mind to being almost every thought. He fought against his urge every moment…but now the shaman was given his chance to embrace his nature and show the true ferocity of an unchained Son of Krug! He clenched his charred, blackened staff with his talon, gripping the pulsing blood veins twisting through the charred wood with the razor sharp steel blades on his fingers. “Grizh tu hûn, Grizh tu hôn”