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  2. [!] This missive is spread on the boards of Orcgrimmar. I, Ukmatûm, yeller of Raguk, claims the title of Yazgurtan of the Horde. To the vassals and bruddahs who did not pay their taxes, I am coming for you. If any oppose to such, klomp me. Signed Ukmatûm of clan Raguk, yeller of the pantheon, travelling merchant, Yazgurtan of the Horde.
  3. The redskin shared some words at the shrine with the Qalasheen, Kwee and Lurs, before having to leave for work. As he returned from his salesman job, he passed by the shrine, cutting his pinky finger and leaving it near the remains of the false idol. A gift to Gazigazh and to the sacred land the uruk now walked.
  4. A redskin smiled as he witnessed the destruction of the acursed shrine built on orkish land. The uruk tapped his horse and made his way towards the Qalasheen camp, hoping to share drugs and drinks with the honorable warriors.
  5. The Raguk yeller was sharpening his greataxe when the missive reached him. "Cannub trust the words of lesser beings. Should never have been trusted to follow the path of the spirits." The blind uruk set on to rally more warriors and end the filth of the west once and for all. "Dishonnor ahm to be met with grîsh. Izû skaat ah-lât gaam-golug Atemu."
  6. The Machine of Eternal Drudgery: an icon of the Naakh-za-Barash. The large cog represents Leyd, whereas the smaller cogs represent Gentharuz and Gazigash respectively. Gazigazh-khlaar. Khlaargrîsh. The thunderous voice of the yeller filled the cavern. Hear Gazigazh. Hear the blood. A thousand broken voices answered. Ghaashgrîsh norknûl. Ghaasgrîsh thrâk gaam. The words of old blah echoed on the cold walls of stone. Hear Gentharuz. Hear the flames. A thousand chants filled the cave. Leydlûk skaat. Leydlûk nork. The flames of the firepit danced on the walls. Hear Leyd. Hear the wrath. The voices of a thousand ancestral spirits chanted. The lutauman stood away from the fire pit, his ichor dripping into the flames. The painted walls of the cave showed moving images of a settlement in the desert. Large towers raised from the ground, spitting black smog into the air of the south. The echoes of the spirit realm turned quiet as the orkish blood boiled in the fire. [!] Letters are sent across Aevos, carrying the seal of an ancient clan. To my grîsh, I call you back to the honorbound lands. Return for we have been summoned by the pantheon. Gentharuz called for the flames to rise out of the sands. Gazigazh called for a tidal wave of blood to wash away the filth. Leyd called for the submission of lesser being, for his strength to flow through us. The cogs of industry will be fueled with the desert. Return to the Horde. Return to Raguk. Signed Ûkmatum, Blood of Kharak “Plaguebringer” Raguk, Yeller of clan Raguk.
  7. "Grîsh hûl, grîsh hôn." The chant of old blah echoed in Borok's mind. "Kaal Akaal hôn izûbu grîsh, izûbu golm ah-nûl." Words flowing with every blade that hit his form, with every wound created on his shell. "Izû slai, izû mat, izû slai urkzû." From darkness came whispers, soon turning to hissing voices. "Already? We expected you to last a few more years." Blood flowed from the redskin's neck. "This shell is destroyed." A mace hit him in the back of the head, ringing bells in his mind. "Guess we will have to start from scratch." "Ah.. ate.. latz.. sistah.." He did not manage to finish his sentence and drowned in his own blood. Life vanished from Ar-Borok's form for a second time. Darkness welcomed him once more. Until light returned. A faint golden light, seen through glass. The glass was shattered. Liquid flowed on the cold stone, followed by flesh. From the north rose a brown uruk, making his way back to the south.
  8. The old Redskin grinned a tusked smile as he reads his daily pages of orkish drama. He ventured to find Drus, wishing to fix the dishonorable part of a fight between Falum and him. "Kranklûk needs eyes to klomp."
  9. The redskinned uruk now wants to get on a boat and sing.
  10. Name : Ukmatûm of clan Raguk race : Uruk Shaman class : Witch doctor Teacher : Krothuul'Ram
  11. The Akaal let out an angered grunt as he looked over the missive. For him, a whitewash will always be a whitewash, even if a bruddah speak otherwise.
  12. The redskinned uruk smiled the tusked smile as he saw the missive. "Hosh. Second wagh done, on with the next."
  13. [!] missives are spread in Orcgrimmar by goblin courriers wearing the colors of clan Akaal. To Grommash, Rex of the Horde. To Apek and Minto, Targoth and Dominus of the Horde. We urûkhim have bled for the wars of worms. We urûkhim have fought in a war without honor for years now. A war that does not concern us, a war that brings us out of our ancestral land. For what? We rally and follow the orders of lesser beings, follow their stupidity in diplomacy and battle. Enough! This war does not concern us, we have no duty to defend the land of filths. We gain no honor by rallying to fight the battle of mortals. No more honorbound blood will flow for the degeneracy of men. I, Ar-Borok, Kukaal of clan Akaal calls for the fourth Klamor of Orcgrimmar. Let us speak under the eyes of the spirits, let them guide our next steps. Urûkhim grîsh ôk-hûl, urûkhim grîsh ôk-hôn. Kaal Akaal hôn izûbu golm. Signed by Ar-Borok, Kukaal of clan Akaal, Destroyer of Elysium, Druglord of the south, Champion of Ogrol, The Immortal.
  14. An old uruk enjoys his favorite paper by the firepit of the capital, eager to hear more about the Qualasheen that will soon settle the honorbound lands.
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