Moby_Derp

Gukdan would stand at the entrance to his blargh, clad in his usual attire. "Anuber Uruk flat'd? Uh well, nebur gruk'd him zu whutever. Zpirids muhr important... Bud ztill, mite az well go vizit dem."

Will you ever make me a version of Gukdan's skin, with a beard.

Has my work not been properly noted? Tsk tsk, I challenge you to a duel for my name on the contribution list. *Throws Glove*

Behind the great land of Krug, bellowed a great sandstorm, making its way through the harsh deserts. The dusty tendrils stretched through every crack and crevice surrounding the mighty city of San'Raakh, bursting through the streets, it made its way past the city and disappearing into the oceans. Yet, deep into the storm's centre stood what many would call a beast, clad in dull-grey robes, his face scarred by the sands of the desert as he made his way throughout the many ruins and destroyed cities of the sandy plains. Within the city, the once dormant flames of the many forges of San'Raakh sparked into being... Sparks burst from their stone cages, and the flames bellowed in a deadly roar as they spit and hissed at the Orcs working their craft: as if Gentharuz himself had blessed the ferocious smiths of Krug. Harsh whispers seemed to erupt from the monstrous flames, the Smith's hammers seeming to hit with the force of a hundred Orcs and the many blades of Krugmar shining brilliantly from their sheaths. As the wretch made his way into the streets of San'Raakh, it appeared that the forges fell silent, their flames dying and wavering as if in fear of his arrival... Behind the robes, the creature donned full-plate of dull-grey steel with tint of crimson... The legendary steel of the Raguk. The forge seemed to call his name, the flames reaching out for his skin... "Gukdan... Gukdan... Gukdan..." He had returned.

"Huw luvely fur ah gift tu bi zent tu uz... Led'z zi wub's on board..." Gukdan would begin to make his way to the ship.

Leyd: Physical Strength, Dominance

Brought a tear to my eye.

Barry Buckleberry ponders within his home, observing his great collection of shrooms, big and small. "Ah' fine place Rivershire is, but I do wonder wot de ot'ers will t'ink."

Gukdan thinks to himself "Wub dumbzkahz."

"Wub dah zkah? Am lat kopyin' uz Raguk?" Gukdan would ask, clearly angered by the plagiarism.

Gukdan laughs, having just defeated many undead in the Westerlands. "Guez lat kan unlee truzt Urukz tu do zuch ah job."

Smells like free bandit rp. huehuehue

Gukdan would tighten the belt around his armour, checking his equipment one last time before marching out of his blargh. "Ghashkrut-Grish. It am tik fur dah bluud tu flow..."

Gukdan would sit within his blargh, cleaning and polishing his armour. "Ah hozh advanze agenzt dah nubded... Wi am ztill nub finizh'd huwever..."

agreed

Gukdan sat alone within his cave, pondering over the recent thoughts, scratching his chin a few times before standing. "Huw upzetting dat mi wuz nub invited, bud uh well... Did nub wunt tu zhuw anyazh up... It appearz mi will hab lotz ub wurk on mi handz."