Gar! It has been this way fer as long as my grandspawns knew! Orcish pick on Beasties. Beasties burn up Bonies. Bonies scare Orkish, and Orkish raid Scalies! That always wuz. The glory of the Orkish was in fighting, raiding, hoarding. The seizing of treasure! The building of lair, the battle, the war! Keeping our turf! Building our lairs! Trapping the intruders, stealing their gold. The miles and miles and piles and piles of treasure and corpses. This wuz our way.
Then an unfoul wind began to blow. Our Shamans knew it and warned us of a great danger. But we were blind and hungry, and instead of listening to our shamans, we ate them. And they were delicious. Not one of us regrets eating the shamen, but could we not have waited for them to finish talking, could we not have resisted filling their mouths with the delicious ceremonial stuffing. Perhaps we could not have, for this has also always been, our tradition of eating those who bring bad news. But we should have listened first.
The pink-skins came. The pink-skins came with pretty speech and shiny pointy things. The pink-skins came with fire, with metal skin, they came to take what we had rightfully stolen from the scalies and the bonies! They burned our lairs! They stole our treasure! And the smell! That pink smell that comes from their pink skin, that smell of flowers and sunshine and happiness that invades everything. That smell that almost makes us smile. Almost.
We were lost, and then we heard those first wonderful sounds. Crash! Right foot stepped! Kaboom! Left foot landed! Kerrunch earth impacted! Kerratch building crumpled! Big boom sounds. Earth wuz quaking. Grendel was walking. We were waking. Grendel walked across the land, kicking puny pink-skins out of his way, smashing the pink-skin towns, blotting out the foul sun when he walked in front of it. Grendel we had heard his name. Grendel, the pink-skin slayer. Grendel, the eater of men. Grendel came to our new shamen, those who had learned to only tell us good things. Grendel told us the story of his past, the story of where the pink-skins came from.
Grendel showed us how to trick pink-skins, how to trap them. He showed us how to use their shiny pointy things against them, how to wear their metal skin. Grendel taught us to fight back. Grendel showed us how to make the pink-skins bring us treasure. And Grendel smelled really, really bad. We Orkish knew our day had come again, that we would again have treasure and battle, that now we had a glorious third enemy, the pink-skin clan who built their lairs on the surface.
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