The Flower in the Sepulcher

naheeda's jurnal 11

war is breething its stench al over the nek of the citee. the swamp smels of evel. yet no one can see the obveous thret to tref. there are signs evrywere. dead orcs. clans vanishing. the creeping kingdom has come bak. plant orcs rising from the deeps. dead and alive. not alive and not dead. places of power huming with the forces of fire and air. the newly printed coins with faces of dead vampire kings. it is all so damn obveous. the water elf kings whore the grey lady the high prestess hide there heads in the swamp. there ears are filed with muk. no mater wat we say they do not lisen. they still need proof. when orcs die there is no problem. onlee til the citee fok are afected. humans and elfs. that is when people pay atenshion.

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my brothers and sisters of the swamp have shared there wisdom with me. called me to a meeting of the clans both orcs of the citee and swamp. the orc abominashions are cursed. a curse almost as old as the swamp itsself. a orc war cheef wanted more power. i cannot blame him. when you can have the power to crush the skulls of your enemees and conkur every man orc and elf who dares to challenge you. but he did not think of the price. power is only good if you can keep it.

the songs say the orc cheef spawned three sons. each one was given an objec of great power. a sword a croun a spear. i must get these items to unite the clans. to defeat the high cheef who lives but is alredee dead. i no the items places. the colective nos one way to save the citee.

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