With fist raised high and sword in hand,

An Orclach Captain leads his band

To riches greater then gems or gold.

For glory, blood, and vict'ries told

Did marching boots and clashing steel

Rouse unbeating hearts to feel

The pride of Orlachmar of yore.

 

"To strike fear all across this land,"

Shouted fearless Cap-i-tan,

"We must purge the young and old,

the weak, the sick, the strong, the bold.

And all who will not come to heel

The cries of 'HOOOOOOO' in ears will peal,

The shout of Orlachmar of yore."

 

Rumb'ling roars did shake the sand

And steel-clad feet marched on command

'Neath blood-soaked gates where lives untold

To Lady d'Lardick's axe are sold.

Those on the road before them reeled,

The cattle and the pilgrims wheeled

From grins like Orlachmar's of yore.

 

The road of Acknor was unmanned

So into fields did spread the Band.

To slaughter furred and orcs untold

Their corpses rot with pittance gold.

And as the Chief fell to his steel,

Disgust from Captain's mouth did spill,

"Weak shards from Orlachmar of yore."

 

With lust unsated they did disband

A solemn march back to the gates.

Disturb-ed thoughts in Captain's mind

Would give no peace - would not abate.

 

How could those poor and broken fools,

Which he could not help but abhor,

Be rem'nants from the Taint so cruel,

Corrupted, Orlachmar of yore.

 

Tis thus from block of bloodied stone,

That Captain stripped of pride and rank,

Did for his traitor's words attone,

By loos-ed head, to be quite frank.

 

None must forget the Engine's ways!

To all Orclach drink deep your lore,

In you the Elder's shards shall stay

The pride of Orlachmar of yore.