Overlooking Ulangi, by Pahnna

Our (unofficial) Creation, by Ardus

Under waters deep, before our time,
Legions of Evil did reside.
A single creature dared oppose...
Never surrendering to his foes.
Great genius this being possessed,
In concocting plans, he was the best.

Grooks were his divine invention!
Race that could defeat ANY contraption!
Over time, and much shed blood,
Our race prevailed! I knew we would.
Killing villains is our calling,
So lets give evil a SUPREME mauling :-).

Grook acrostic, by Grumaul

Undeniable faith in each other...
Longing for a higher standard of excellence...
Always ready to defend the Ulangi cause...
Never wasting time on foolish goals...
Groping through the darkness, searching for light...
Immortal in mind and in spirit...

Giving themselves up for their beliefs...
Righting all the wrongs in this world...
Opening the door of freedom to others...
On and on we march in this war for success...
Keeping close to each other so we won't lose hope...
Searching and findiing the truth in every possible way...

This is what we stand for and what we must remember to hold on to...
We are the Grooks of Ulangi.

Eat the bugs, do I!, by Vlad, the Poet Grook

Eat the bugs, do I!

Under the waves, I swim
Looking for bugs, I am!
Any I find, I eat
Now, when I bug I spy, WHAM!
Grook belly, the bug now is in!
In the water, I look again

Grooks are froggies, we are
Red meat, should not we eat
Only the bugs, says I!
Our meals can't be beat!
Kiss a grook, find a prince
Still eat bugs, does the frog prince!!

~Vlad, the Poet Grook, am I

Grook acrostic, by Logistics

Unlike any others,
Lazily lying,
Able to relax,
Nogging, laughing, thwapping, drinking,
Good for fun, good for everything,
Instead of eating us, eat with us.

Grooks in action, one of us threatened,
Racing to the front lines,
Our Magis Magi-ing, Arcanists Arcan-ing, Warlocks warlock-ing, Sentinels Sentinat-ing, Side by Side, we all fight,
Our eyes flash, skin bubbles, mouths water at the enemy fleeing, and yet we persist and...
Kill that fly, he never had a chance.

Grook acrostic, by Azor

Green gilled grooks
Rant and ramble aimlessly
Over and through the water,
On and on and on (and on?)
Kick a mockingbird and call it Pete.
Susan is a Grook, but she doesn't like mockingbirds.

"Mud", by Pahnna

Mud is such a basic word.
Like "dirt" or "it" or "cat."
Don't get me wrong, these words have their place
in mundane and idle chit-chat.
It is fine if this is all the verbosity
within your easy reach.
But we scholarly Grooks prefer
more specific speech.

Much better to traipse through saturated sediment,
and feel it squish and squelch between one's webbed toes.
It might be fine to use simple words, I suppose
But why call it mud, when you can call it muck?
And slide down a hillside though slippery sludge?

When the swamp is your home
and daily through slime and grime you roam,
you learn a more precise sort of language,
like those residing far in the north
who have a hundred different words for "snow," so I'm told.

Lest you think this sounds like snobbery,
be assured that this isn't the case.
For if as a froggy young child you had played a game of chase
through the mildewy marshes of Ulangi,
hide and seek in the murky miasma
hovering in the boggy foggy air,
then you too might have learnt
the language of my amphibious race.

Alas, for those who choose the plain old mud,
I wish you contentment.
A cow chews over and over the same old cud,
complacently,
because that it all she knows.
But as for me, I'd get too bored of the simple mud.
I'll choose to feel the gurgling goop,
the squelching slime,
the magnificent muck
and glorious gunk,
oozing between my froggy toes.