CURSE #5
“The cowardly blunderers who fled from the goatmen in front of our Norscan allies. You bring shame upon your houses. May you father simpletons. May you dig deep and find nought but rock. May your beards uncurl and your hats diminish in stature. I curse you.”
(Context: Tonight, my chaos dwarfs were allied into my Norscan raiders and really let the side down. Curse of new paint? The cowards shot a few harpies but fled the second it started to look dangerous. How embarrassing in front of the chaos warriors?)