Watyll

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=22ut_pzoWgY Far to the North, over ranges, and rivers, over mountains, and valleys, crouches a single, solitary fortress. It was once called Greywyn in the tongue of men, home of the valiant, stalwart, and watchful Teutonic Order. The days are looked upon proudly in the days when the Knights fought their neighbors to the South in a better war. When the rivers ran thick with blood. Aye, those were the days. Eventually however, the proud order was disbanded by the one they called savior. Their own emperor, their allfather, had betrayed them for his favored sons the Flays. However, some knights remained. Loyal to their cause and their history, they protected the North from unseen threats. For they knew that not only the savage, tribal boarmen lurked beyond the ice wall, but unspeakable evil. And then, when the world needed power the most, the Emperor, and all his men boarded boats, and set off from the shores of Anthos, the third continent. Their savior abandoning for a second time, the valiant Teutons were unsure of what to do. In a fit of what may have been grief, or rage, the Hochmeister, Jonathan Black, demolished the proud Castle Greywyn, and the Knights fled. And there the ruined fortress sat. Unguarded from the North. Unwatched from the South. It was then that evil crept in on silent claws, and darkened wings. Pools of corruption formed in the ground, taint filled the air. The water boiled and transformed to lava. The armies of the Glurtzfolok, and their cruel masters had invaded the now empty castle. But no more would it be known as its true name, Castle Greywyn, but a twisted, corrupted name in a foul, blackened language spoken by those who bring the night. Urkvorkuhz Ghûl. Soon tainted tendrils of corruption waved in the air, writhing as if in some eternal agony, and the sound of hammers ringing on forges rang throughout. The army was readying itself, but for what? The outside world could only guess... Then, the hammers ceased. A great silence swept through the castle, the South waited, listening. Then, a sudden cry, a clamor, a great roar swept through the land, Rog-votaks, hulking and brutal, whipping their underlings with cruel, lithe cords, bellowing orders. Zongots scurried amongst the feet of the Kambasor, repairing armor here and there. Kalus readied their twisted bows, checking for any oddities or malfunctions. The North gate was opened, and a small garrison left behind at Urkvorkuhz Ghûl. The large part of the army marched Northwards, turning West immediately after. Where were they going? The South could only wait, and watch with bated breath. The Hammer Will Fall.

*Many guards pour out and mutilate the man, because they are such evil monsters, and not because he is fueling rebellion*

Grand Vizier Niccolo nods and applauds the mans speech.

((With Chaq's leave I'll be finishing this up)) The lone figure glides down the glacial wall, horse kicking up small flakes of blackened ice and snow as it rides downwards towards the waiting Knights of Dread. The army of Glurtzfolok waits atop the glacial peak, archers nocking twisted arrows of bone and obsidian onto still more twisted bows of aged wood and wizened tissue. All is quiet on both sides as the figure awaits at the base of the wall, halting his dark mount. The wind blows violently in the North, but the figures cloak does not blow in the wind as it should, staying still, draped around the dark figure like a burial shroud. Deep ember eyes glow out from the black hood of the cloak, and a sudden pain, like a spike, pierces the mind of the Regent of Dread, burrowing into his innermost thoughts. A single word is made clear. "Come." The red eyes watch from barren blackness.

The Grand Vizier nods solemnly. "Long live the King!"

=|= An Edict, Issued and confirmed before the Grace of God by His Majesty, King William Horen III, Formerly Emperor William Horen III =|= 1. Henceforth, The Holy Oren Empire will cease to be known as such, and will now be known as the Kingdom of Oren. 2. Henceforth, Emperor William Horen III will cease to be known as such, and will now be known as King William Horen III. 3. Henceforth, the Kingdoms of Hanseti and Renatus do not exist, only the Kingdom of Oren. 4. Henceforth, Salvus is granted to the Grand Kingdom of Urguan, to use as their own. 5. Henceforth, the Elven Princedom of Malinor is granted independence from the Kingdom of Oren, and is granted all their previous land North of the Cloud Temple and West of Salvus 6. Henceforth, the Kingdom of Kaedrin no longer exists as a state. 7. Henceforth, the Westerlands shall be given to the Grand Kingdom of Urguan, to do with as they choose. 8. Henceforth, the Kingdom of Urguan and the Kingdom of Oren will cease to be in a state of war. =|= May Peace Reign Over Us =|=

The Grand Vizier looks at one of the posters of the revolution. He sighs and rubs his forehead. "Truly, the greed of evil men is the greatest of sins."

Gaius's wisdom has never failed me :3

Aye. Dwarves are bred to fight orcs, the weak dwarves get killed off fighting the orcs, the stronger ones survive and pass on their traits. Natural selection until there is a race of mini Popeyes. However the strength is not so much in the blows they can give as much as how many blows dwarves can withstand. They are a stubborn, hardy race and should probably be given a defense buff instead of a damage buff.

Ptah made a relevant point. You have no right to tell him otherwise. My personal opinion on the matter is that things should be balanced out among the four races. Orcs with strength buffs, elves with speed and jump boosts, dwarves also with damage boosts, and humans with no boosts, as in the lore their strength is in numbers. This is how it works in game now, with Oren having far more players than the other races.

((Good luck old friend)) Rama's charred and blackened body sits burning upon the fire. Perhaps it is some muscle spasm of death, but his stoic face appears to be set in a half smile.