Prologue

"Mog, are you certain of this?" "I am unsure of a lot of things these days, Kazaal. But of this I am certain. Our only hope of taking back our land is to build our strength. We cannot walk in and take even a fraction of land with only a few thousand orcs, even with Trocloc's Clan. We need more warriors." "I have never doubted you, and never shall. I trust your judgement over my own." "Your words honor me, Kazaal." After less than a month of negotiation, Clan Lowscar has agreed to bend the knee. Lowscar is one of the largest goblin tribes in the Sunscar Desert, second only to Clan Ravenshadow. As the pair of orcs walk through their cavern home, Malzug was searching for his ally, Trocloc Tuskbreaker. Trocloc is the Chieftain of the ogre Clan Steelskin, and Mog had asked him to be sure to bring some of his finest warriors, to show their new recruits what they are joining. Clan Steelskin and Clan Sunscar are two of the oldest clans in Valhiim, and for the past 35 years they have been close allies. But, it was not until Malzug Mog'gurruk Warbringer, the mighty son of Mahllfur Rockarm, made his plans to take back their home from the rechted lizardmen that Trocloc realized that this was a chance to unite his people, and fight the lizardmen instead of each other, so he was the first to bend the knee. It took little negotiation to convince Lowscar to join them. With a clan as large as Sunscar asking for their loyalty in return for bringing them back to their ancestrial home, they were happy to bend the knee. While walking into the chamber in which the ceremony was to take place, Malzug quickly spotted his large friend and started walking towards him. He was leading twenty of his finest warriors, the tallest of which was nearly 16 feet tall. " Trocloc," Mog calls out in a booming voice, "thank you for coming, my friend." Upon hearing his Chieftain and old friends' voice, the ogre turned and greeted him by kneeling, followed by the twenty ogres with him. "Mog, I am glad to see you are winning over more of our people, especially such a large tribe as the Lowscars. I also want to introduce one of my finest warriors, my son, Krac Stonemaul." Upon his introduction, the warrior steps forth. And surprisingly, it was not the gargantuan ogre, but it was one of about 13 foot. As he kneeled, Mog realized why he is called Stonemaul. On his back is an enormous maul, with a heavy oaken and iron handle at least eight feet long and as big around as Mog's arm, and on the end was a stone nearly twice the size of an orc's chest encased in iron bands. It must weigh at least four hundred pounds. "Rise, Krac Stonemaul. If you can wield that weapon effectively in battle, I cannot wait to fight beside you, as long as you watch your back swing." With a tusk-filled grin, Krac, and the other's begin to rise. "That honor cannot come soon enough, Chieftain. I yearn to prove my strength to you and my people on the field of battle." "If your father has taught you any of his battle prowess, then you shall achieve this honor more than easily." Responded Mog with a glance at Trocloc, who was fighting a smile at his chieftains praise. "And who are the rest of your fine warriors, Trocloc? I notice several unfamiliar faces amongst these ogres." Kazaal asks. After introducing several more young bloods, Mog asks Kazaal to take them to where the ceremony will take place, telling him to make sure that Mogawg and his people have arrived safely. Despite many tribes wanting peace in one form or another, many more do not, so Mog sent some orcs to act as an escort, since they will be moving slow while moving warriors, women and children. They will be moving into Sunclaw Cave with the rest of the united clans. The cavern is enormous, enough to fit tens of thousands of orcs ogres and goblins. As soon as the group is out of ear shot, Trocloc speaks, with an obvious look of worry and anger. "These are troubling times, Mog. Right now, as we are here, at a rally of peace, a rally dedicated to the union of our tribes, others are butchering one another. This savagery must be put to an end. And soon." Mog let out a sigh and replied. "Yes, I know. I heard of many of these atrocities. Whitewitch and Mistymoon, Normarsh and the Stonestriders. The burning of many villages. Too many villages. I fear not all will bend as easy as Lowscar has. I fear even more that some will not bend at all. That they will not appeal to reason. These are indeed troubling times, my friend. But they will not remain this way long." "If they will not appeal to reason, they will fall to force. This I promise you, Chieftain." Trocloc said in a deep, rattling voice that would terrify most lesser creatures. As much as Mog wanted to prevent attacking other clans and forcing them into submission, that does not mean he fears to do so. His numbers have swollen well beyond any other clan for a hundred miles. He will try to prevent war between his people, but it will not be possible for long. He must get them to bend the knee, and begin the offensive against the lizardmen with haste. They must not have time to prepare for what is coming. For what they deserve. After finishing their conversation, Mog and Trocloc head to the chamber where thousands of orcs, ogres and goblins are waiting. Upon arrival, Mog is relieved to see that Lowscar has apparently arrived unscathed. Kazaal approaches Mog. "Chieftain, whenever you are ready, they have all arrived." "Thank you, Kazaal." The two orcs, along with Trocloc, approach the front of the mass of newcomers. Upon stopping, Kazaal announces his Chieftain. " "Chieftain Malzug Mog'gurruk Warbringer. Uniter of Clans. Chieftain of Chieftains. Bringer of war, but only to those whom desire it." Mog steps forward, and looks over his audience before speaking. "Yes. I am these things. But those are just empty titles. They are empty, and I shall fill them. Today marks the beginning of something great. Something never before seen. We will return to our home. We return to green grass. Plenty of game to hunt. Wood for villages. Stone for walls. Fresh water. Rain. But first, we must come together. To make this vision real, we must set our differences aside, and bring our similarities together and be one. We must open our eyes to see what others cannot, what others will not. We must see the truth. So I ask you. Do you want these things? Revenge on the creatures who forced our peoples out centuries ago? Then kneel. All who want these things and more. Kneel. Kneel, and become one amongst many. Kneel and swear your loyalty to your Chieftain Mogawg. And kneel and swear your loyalty to me. And to one another. Swear your loyalty to kinsmen, friends, and even enemies, for after this, we shall all become kinsmen. That is all that I ask." Before he could conclude his final sentence, thousands of goblins began to kneel. The Chieftain approached Mog and layed down his spear at his feet and kneeled. "I swear to you my loyalty, as well as that of my people, Chieftain of Chieftains." "Rise, Mogawg. And everyone else. Rise. We are one from today fourth. Welcome all." This was the first of many such great ceremonies.