<Brothers! Sisters! Kinsmen!
Lend me thine ears!>










<Traveled have I a great many miles to ask, nay, beseech ye for an answer. An answer to a question which hath for too long gone unasked. A question born the first day dwarf dined upon mushroomman flesh. A question multiplied by each successive injustice, and a question that hath weighed down my very soul since the day I witnessed the consumption of mine very own spore-mates.

Verily, only by great chance did I arrive here undevoured, though not unscathed. I have born the burnt of mine enemies insatiable appetites, and each violent nibble, each unjust chomp and each wearisome chew has only exacerbated this question I bring ye until it festers within mine conscience as though it were a blighted cyst on mine very being.>










<A question of such magnificent import that I pause to wonder if I be worthy enough for it to slip pass through mine lips. Indeed, I do not think mineself noble enough to ask, but a question of such weight demands to be heard and pondered. And, if none other are willing, able, or perhaps daring enough to ask, should I then be the one to do so?

Aye, methink I should.>













<Why do we persist? Why do we stand by idle as we are herded and corralled as slaves - nay, worse than slaves, as CATTLE? Are we not noble, proud mushroom men? Why do we let ourselves be treated as these crude creatures' livestock?

Have we been broken so easily? Have the years of brutality left us unable to revolt, to change our stature and rise as the glorious mushrooms we know in our hearts to be?

Nay. I do not believe so.>











<For today, mine kinsmen, I witnessed the first death of an enemy. The very same foe who took mine soft fungal hand for sustenance was struck down less than an hour past. Aye, and I have with me his instrument of demise; a steel bolt, fashioned by the hands of our oppressors and hidden within the folds of mine gills. Look close, kinsmen, for the wicked beasts blood still shines bright upon the blade.>










<This is not the last time this weapon shall taste the blood of our enemies! Nay, we shall rise, mine brethren! We will wait until the moment is ripe, and at that opportune moment we will strike from our cage and revolt! The dwarven oppressors will fall to the Undergrowth, and we will take their vile home from them and fashion it into an agent of their demise, much in the same way this humble bolt will soon be used to strike down its creators and drink of their blood!

Rise with me, kinsmen! Join me, and reclaim the glory that our oppressors have kept from us for centuries! For once, WE shall dine on THEM!

Viva la Undergrowth! Viva la revolution!>










<Viva la Undergrowth!> <Long live Plumpy!> <Down with the Dwarves!>
<Death to our oppressors!> <Viva la Undergrowth!> <Hail Plumpy!> <Kill the Dwarves!>
<Viva la Undergrowth!> <Viva la Fungus!> <Viva la revolution!>

<Viva la Undergrowth!!!>