Sonnet of an Orc

I, a waned champion, was forced out from lair.

Tides had turn; Orsinium fell worse.

Wandering the wicked road, beg one fare,

Tragedy creeps me, filled not with remorse.

But oh my love, I know you are busy,

Feel my pain, love; my suffering, for now.

Oh, please, help me; guide me in this crazy,

Wretched, accursed cesspool, oh tell me how,

To live in this racist community.

How hard my tears desire for our kindred,

Citizens here match not our identity.

Worry not, valor in me is inbred.

Nowhere this be a farewell song, my love,

I will return, for you’re the best to have.

Orsinium – Kingdom for Orcs that was sacked and rebuilt four times.


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