SmackSmack

Oh wow.

@wootdahnootthanks for buying me a new computer

lol!

Pact with Zmazha Drolzu and his mentor, Ghoraza, made their way toward the Raguk District, their pace deliberate as they neared their destination. As they arrived at the forge, they came to a steady halt, and Ghoraza began to speak. An Animizt possesses /Fruum/. This am the representation ob how much Spiritual power lat can cast with, agh the cozt ob spells. Right now lat have a meagre amount . But such will grow az lat increase in strength. As Ghoraza continued to explain the fundamentals of Animism to his student, a question suddenly arose in Drolzu's mind. Without hesitation, he turned to Ghoraza and asked. Wub are we going to be doing? Huw will I zummyn mi zpirit? Ghoraza would quickly answer the question that his student had just asked. We ahm to activate the spell Commune to speak wid lat pacted Spirit. Lat am nub strong enough to cast such a spell on lat own, but lat have we. A long pause followed his mentor's answer, and after a moment of reflection, he finally spoke again. Lat already am capable of exerting lat Fruum- to wield the metal upon lat body, or for aesthetic manipulation of lat abilities. Ghoraza extended one of his hands, and a brilliant flare of fire erupted from his fingertips. The instant Drolzu saw flames erupt from Ghoraza's fingertips, he would immediately yell. Wub da zkah iz going on! As Drolzu began to speak again, Ghoraza would quickly talk over him saying Iz latz turn now It took Drolzu several attempts to exert his elemental spirit to his hands, but after a few tries and with growing focus, he finally succeeded. After succeeding to cast his elemental spirit to his hands, he would quickly turn to Ghoraza before saying Dyd mi do et? Ghoraza's eyes lit up with excitement the moment he saw his student's hand gradually transforming into metal. In almost an instant he would say Indeed. Lat am an Animist brudda! His student quickly turned to him and asked, Wub should we do now? Ghoraza wasted no time in responding to his student's question. We ahm to perform the spell Commune. Ghoraza carefully etched the symbol of metal onto the ground before speaking to Drolzu. Go get the zhomo, we need him to make an offering to your spirit. The moment Drolzu heard this, he immediately rushed through the city, searching for the shaman. He finally found him in the tavern and urged him to follow him. As soon as Drolzu came back with the shaman, Ghoraza would instantly tell him. We need lat grizh to summon latz spirit Drolzu would almost immediately pull out his pocket knife, making a small little incision onto his hand, letting the blood drip onto the symbol below. As soon as he did this, the shaman would begin to speak Griishûm aghburz lat, latob burz bruddah glob lat amg latûrz After the shaman made his offering, he quickly departed. As he left, smoke began to swirl around the duo, lifting them off the ground along with everything else in the vicinity. In an instant, all the metal nearby gravitated toward a single point, twisting and contorting into the shape of a massive war hammer. As the smoke dissipated, Drolzu's spirit began to materialize from the thick haze, taking form before both of their eyes. Thys iz lat zpirit Drolzu. Lat may begin speaking to it. Before Drolzu could utter a word, his spirit spoke to him first. You will need action, small shard. You have yet to bear the weight of my power, nor possess the soul to do so yet. How are ideas spread? Drolzu paused, contemplating for a moment before responding to his spirit. Ideas are spread through word of mouth, sculptures that have been made by people. Drolzu's spirit continued to speak. And through action, you may wield my strength to kill the evils of this world, to guide those who would fall to darkness. When you are stronger, you will be able to bring others to witness me like this, and usher them into the faith. To enhance my power you may make totems in this realm, create artifacts in my name, or reign its calamity when you seek to destroy your enemies.

"These people are racist. It's because I'm Jerry isn't it." Jerry spoke with a frown on his face

“Yacht does not rhyme with Jerry” It was early the morning of the siege of stassion. Drolzu’Gorkil, known often to the common-man by his nickname “Jerry” stood upon the Covenant’s oddly high walls. He peered over expecting to see the ‘anthill’ as it had been termed. Indeed his gaze revealed the target of his attack, yet more than that even he saw his comrades, and orcish brothers prepared to face the fire of the trebuchet he was prepared to fire. He had received a letter prior from the soldiers of Veletz and warriors of Krugmar, and kept it unopened, yet now he could not help but read. Jerry now I know I was wrong, I messed up and now you’re gone Jerry I’m sorry I neglected you, oh I never expected you to run away and leave me feeling this empty. Your blah right now would sound like music to me. Please come home because I miss you Jerry. Jerry come home, Jerry come home. Drolzu cast his blade to the ground. He would fight no more. It would be better to stand and perish alongside his friends than to triumph among snakes. He would fight rather than be forgotten as just another ‘fleeper’ of the Covenant. The battle ensued, and as he started his departure from the battleground, he'd stop and say, "Zorry Banjo, but nub zorry everyazh elze." As he starts laughing mischievously, he strolls his way in the sunset, not towards Haense but towards Veletz. Jerry was returning home. You've met with a terrible fate, haven't you?

JERRY’S FERRY “Thanks Jerry” -Captain Banjo https://youtu.be/c9ps42Frh6Y?feature=shared IN A GALAXY FAR FAR AWAY… A continent torn by war! On the continent of Aevos, two sides duel for supremacy of the world, where friendships are tested on the battlefield, a sailor named Drolzu’Gorkil makes a daring choice. Switching from the sinister VELETZ forces to join the valiant ranks of the YACHTMEN, led by Captain Banjo. As alliances shift, a new chapter unfolds, and the fate of the cosmos hangs in the balance. Drolzu’Gorkil met the Captain upon his galleon docked in the Haense harbor. It was a fine winter night, Ferrymas Eve, and the two friends rejoiced in a fine drink of Hot Chocolate (the Haense Queen’s finest) and a little jolly Ferrymas music played by Captain Banjo’s legendary banjo. “Drolzu, you need a better nickname my friend. What about ‘Jerry’?” “Yub yub, mi lyke Jerri.” Drolzu’Jerry’Gorkil responded to the Captain, delighted by the thought of fighting alongside his old friend. Memories were coming back to him of the good old days… back when he first joined the Ferrymen. Captain Banjo… Adzy… Valentin… Django… Avalloc… Leonidas… [the list goes on]. Perhaps one day his comrades would all be fighting on the same side once again. “Mi zo hahpi wi klomp tugehtda mi ol frehynd. Zing mei e zong Banjo!” Banjo took out his banjo and began strumming his guitar before breaking out his new greatest single, JERRY THE ORC. “You know Banjo and Brick and Adzy and Lyulen… Jesus and Django and Andronikos and Valentin… But do you recall? The most famous Ferryman of all. Jerry the red-skinned orc Had a very shiny tusk! And if you ever saw him, you would say he’s so sexy! All of the other Ferrymen, Used to laugh and call him names! They never let poor Jerry, join in any Orenian raiding parties! Then one foggy Ferrymas Eve, Captain Banjo came to him. ‘Jerry, with your great strength Will you fight the Adrians with me?’ Then all the people loved him! As they shouted out with glee, ‘Jerry the Red-skinned Orc, you’ll go down in history!’ Signed,

Drolzu'Gorkil dunz zah borgondi aend redyz hyz zult vur zah waghs tu komz.