Dwarven blood, Iron Bonds
It ain't bin long since I joined with tha Khaz Modan Infantry, but I can tell ye two thin's, they know 'ow ta drink an they know 'ow ta fight, sometimes both at tha same time.
It's tha' time o't year again. Brewfest. N'er has their bin a better 'scuse to get rip roarin' drunk an start a few scraps wi' those that say a dwarf cannae 'old 'is drink.
Oh tha grand ol' Duke of Eastvale, 'e only had ten men, 'e marched them inta a murloc camp an were never seen again. a deep dwarvish voice sang across the festival.
Chuckles came from the visitors and stall standers as they watched the drunken chestnut bearded dwarf stumble onto a table.
Stick round lads an lasses, I got more fer ya !
The long bearded dwarf takes in a deep breath and a complimentary flagon of Barleybrew and throws the empty flagon at the Ogre stand.
Big green orcy sat on a wall, big green orcy had a great fall...all the kings 'orses an all tha kings men jus kept stabbin 'im again an again.
The crowd went wild for the intoxicated dwarf. Movrak looked out amongst the cheering drunken Alliance members followed by the blurred beer soaked grass rising up to meet him.
Wha' a day tha' were lad, bu' darker times are t'arrive. I remember wakin' up wi' a head tha felt like it 'ad been sat on by an ogre, an a breath that tasted like a murloc had crawled down t'me gut an dropped dead.
Oi laddy wake up, ya cannae stay 'ere. This is Infantry lands, an' ya not in tha Infantry. Movrak opened his eyes to see a Dark skinned, dark haired dwarf pointing the sharp end of an axe into his face.
Shiny... Movrak grunted as he held his head and sat up from the cold stone floor. The Infantry y'say lad? Must be me lucky day.
Ya wha? Lucky day? Nae lad ya boot ta be gutted an fed.... at that point the dark dwarf was interrupted by a much taller less hostile dwarf.
Durin tha be 'nuff now laddy. Ya gona scare the youngblood.
Aye chief. with that the dark dwarf known as Durin relaxed his axe and stood back to let the mighty dwarf speak.
Ya in grand comp'ny dwarf, I am Grimsteel, General of the Khaz Modan Infantry. And y'are?
Grudgebearer, General, Movrak Grudgebearer...I bin lookin fer ya. Movrak got to his feet and gave a half hearted salute. I wana become an Infantry recruit...
Grimsteel stroked his flame yellow beard as his beady eyes watched Movrak give a toothy grin, showing a front tooth that seemed to be made from a chunk of iron ore.
Would ya be willin' ta serve wi Duty and Protect tha' which matters? Grimsteel asked in a deep powerful tone.
Duty, Protecshun an Ale lad, tha's all I live fer e'er since them blasted troggs attacked Kharanos. Movrak clenched his armoured fist tightly.
Bleedin' troggs... Durin spat on the floor.
Aye, indeed Durin. Grimsteel replied with a wicked smile. Ya sound like me kinda dwarf, Grudgebearer, I now accept ya as a recruit o'tha Khaz Modan Infantry.
Aye shiny. Movrak saluted the two dwarves respectfully
Ya wuddnae 'appen t'av any brew ?