StoryTellerMan
11-01-2008, 03:08 PM
Of blood and thunder, of righteous fire and of the strength of the Dragon, these are our oaths. All fear us, and few hunt us. Of all the races in Agon, the Orks are the conquerors of the world, the very center of civilization is held in our fists! The Fire Dragon spares us because we are the best, we are the strongest, we are the Orks. Our drums sound with the thunder that erupts from her throat when she graces the earth with her flames, our cleavers ring with the noise of her claws scraping against rocks, and our battlecries echo hers. We are born of mettle far stronger than a human, far prouder than the alfar, far advanced than the mahirim, far more knowledgeable than the mirdain, and certainly far larger than the dwarves. The fiber in our beings is the fabric of our world, and without the Orks, Agon would surrender to chaos. We do not destroy, we maintain. We do not disrupt, we balance. We do not make war, war follows us. We are the Orks.
We do not kill needlessly, we kill the weak, those not worthy of the Fire Dragon's saving. We are the judgmentals, we decide the fate of those that the gods would normally decide. The Orks march to liberate Agon from its shackles--the puny and meek races that dare call themselves sentient beings. We march not to war, we march to the Fire Dragon, and with each human, dwarf, mirdain, alfar and mahirim slain, the Fire Dragon grows closer, and The Great Burning is kindled. All will bow to us when our campaign is finished, when the Fire Dragon is satisfied. The brilliance of the Mirdain will fall before her, the strength of the dwarves will be minuscule in comparison, the will of the humans will break as twigs underfoot, the magic of the alfar will be like cotton thrown against the scales of the Fire Dragon, and even the Mahirim--with their bestial strength and animal vigor--will be child's play to the Fire Dragon, and to the growing armies of the Orks.
Beware, foul races of Agon, for your time is coming! Your gods are infants when compared to the Fire Dragon, your armies are of children, when facing the Orks and your magic has no effect. Arrows cannot pierce the hides of the holy, and no spear will be lodged in our skulls. We are the Orks, and before you have the chance to thrust your spear, or fire your arrow, the beards of our axes and the faces of our hammers will be embedded into your flesh. Die now, we Orks proclaim! Die, so that the Fire Dragon may use her powers on more worthy foes! Revel in our power, and kneel to our strength, for we are the Orks, and perhaps you may be our servants and stableboys in the new era that the Fire Dragon brings.
Hearken now, and listen well, for the words of the Fire Dragon will not speak in mercy again: Bow to your kings, your lords, the Orks, and a less-painful death will be given to you. For all the heretics that dare try to inhibit our progress: run and hide, for the rocks and crevasses of the earth will be the only place left for rodents like you when the Fire Dragon comes, and The Great Burning is ignited! Kneel to our God, bow to our power, and tell all passerby to beware; For we are the Orks.
We do not kill needlessly, we kill the weak, those not worthy of the Fire Dragon's saving. We are the judgmentals, we decide the fate of those that the gods would normally decide. The Orks march to liberate Agon from its shackles--the puny and meek races that dare call themselves sentient beings. We march not to war, we march to the Fire Dragon, and with each human, dwarf, mirdain, alfar and mahirim slain, the Fire Dragon grows closer, and The Great Burning is kindled. All will bow to us when our campaign is finished, when the Fire Dragon is satisfied. The brilliance of the Mirdain will fall before her, the strength of the dwarves will be minuscule in comparison, the will of the humans will break as twigs underfoot, the magic of the alfar will be like cotton thrown against the scales of the Fire Dragon, and even the Mahirim--with their bestial strength and animal vigor--will be child's play to the Fire Dragon, and to the growing armies of the Orks.
Beware, foul races of Agon, for your time is coming! Your gods are infants when compared to the Fire Dragon, your armies are of children, when facing the Orks and your magic has no effect. Arrows cannot pierce the hides of the holy, and no spear will be lodged in our skulls. We are the Orks, and before you have the chance to thrust your spear, or fire your arrow, the beards of our axes and the faces of our hammers will be embedded into your flesh. Die now, we Orks proclaim! Die, so that the Fire Dragon may use her powers on more worthy foes! Revel in our power, and kneel to our strength, for we are the Orks, and perhaps you may be our servants and stableboys in the new era that the Fire Dragon brings.
Hearken now, and listen well, for the words of the Fire Dragon will not speak in mercy again: Bow to your kings, your lords, the Orks, and a less-painful death will be given to you. For all the heretics that dare try to inhibit our progress: run and hide, for the rocks and crevasses of the earth will be the only place left for rodents like you when the Fire Dragon comes, and The Great Burning is ignited! Kneel to our God, bow to our power, and tell all passerby to beware; For we are the Orks.