THE ORCS REMEMBER
A Raguk flag stands in the black ash sea of the volcanic lands
A red-hued orc would stand from within the camp, towering over the others as they feasted upon their hunted prey
“FUR TUU LONG DAH ORKS HAV BEEN ZHIT OHN BY DAH EMPIRE KUNTZ!”
Disgruntled murmurs would rise up from the gathering orcs, however still listening intently.
“FUR TUU LONG WEAK REXS HAV LED DAH ORKS!
Murmurs would contort into the nodding of heads, and some from the crowd even spitting offside.
“FUR TUU LONG DAH ORKS HAV FORGOTTEN TRADITION!”
Then, the shields and cleavers would start to clang together, rising up as a tide of sorts until it emerged a roar.
“WHEN WUZ DAH LAZT TIK DAH ORKS WON AH BATTUL? NUB UNDUR DIZ WEAK GOBO REX!”
The goblins would hurry to their war-drums, and the atmosphere darkened with anticipation, silence taking the air; giving space for the ork to finish.
“DIS DAY MARKS DAH CHANGE OB DAT! ANIAZH WHO ZTANDS WIFF DIZ FAKE REX ‘BURBUR’LUR’ AHM AH WHITEWAZH! IF LAT KLOMPS WIFF EMPIRE KUNTZ, LAT AHM AH WHITEWAZH!
DIZ AHM LATZ ONLEE CHANCE, ZTAND WIFF MI, OR LATZ WIHLL FAZE DAH WRATH OB DAH RED TIDE!”
Then, as the ork’s final words escaped his maw, so would a flurry of roars from the rowdy crowds. Once more the war drums sound, once more the steel is sharpened. And once more, the orks shall return to strength.
With that, the orc and others who agreed, left the camp, the only time they shall return, is for bloodshed.