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The great hall was filled with thousends of dwarf clansmen, and a thousend thundereous voices filled the chamber. Each dwarf was in his own little disscusion or argument and each was eagerly anticipating the Kings speech. Each dwarf knew they were going to war, thats why they were all in there finest green clothes with there best armour and family weapons.
As the king strode onto his stand, a silence filled the hall. Then he Spoke, with a voice only comparable to that of Grungni himself,
''As many of you know, we are going to war. But this is not just some ponsy elven rampage or troubles with the men of the empire, it is an expedition. An expedition to explore new lands and make new homes. It is an oppertunity to gain riches of the likes you have never seen. But most importantly, it is an oppertunity to spill elvish blood in the name of vengence. We march north tommorow, and we will stop off at Bugmans while were there!''
A great cheer filled the hall, perhaps for the promise of war, or perhaps for the promise of Ale. We may never know. One things for sure, the Oldland will belong to the Dwarfs!!
By the way, the Oldlands is the island we are fighting for in our campaign.
And yes we will win
A Promise to a dead man means nothing.
Heh.. Now i know why the title didnt make sense
Can't really comment on that one.. It's so short.
Funny twist in the end..
Its a bit cliched
â€œCry â€˜Havocâ€™ and let slip the dogs of war!â€? - Julius Caesar, Act III, Scene I