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This section details the heroic sacrifice of our Clan Father, Varad Mordok. His memory is to be revered at all times and always. |
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Happy as a troll could be, with the pain of the symbol burned into his shoulder still throbbing at his mind, Varad Mordok stepped from his hut. He looked around the dismal swamp and wrinkled his large nose against it. Apparently, with this ambition had come a sense of awakening, a sense of enlightenment. He realized that the disorder and dismal surroundings of the trolls was what kept them from achieving greatness.
It was time for this to change.
"Varad!" a voice called. He turned to face three large warrior Trolls that wore the decorations of the Shamans.
"kameh'jo?" Varad asked.
They seized his arms and pulled them tightly behind his back. He winced against the pain, but it was nothing compared to what he had experienced only a few hours earlier. He closed his eyes against them. They had no idea what they were doing.
They hauled him before the Shamans. With his hands tied tightly behind him by a piece of crude hemp rope, he was unceremoniously dumped into the circle of fires, around which sat not only the clan Chieftain, but the four other Shamans. The light from the flames was nearly blinding; he could see nothing but shadows beyond the perimeter of the circle. The war drums beat loudly in his brain, echoed in his ears and in his bones.
"Mordok!" one of the shamans shouted. "kagh khamada!"
The war drums went silent. Following the command, Varad slowly rose to his feet. He held his head up proudly, though they looked down upon him. The heat from the fires was slowly burning his skin, but as before, he could hardly feel it. The throbbing of his burned shoulder was far worse than any pain he had ever felt.
"khakh raj'da, dvor jon'dueh khada. rikh khedasha?" the Shaman's voice rung out in the silence as he read the charges.
How could he deny the charges? He had been dabbling in black arts that were forbidden by the Shamans, but he knew that his intentions were more important. His goal was to unite the scattered clans into one. The same sense of enlightenment came over him once again. There was a greater purpose here, and one that could be better served by his death.
His son, though. They wouldn't let his boy live if he were condemned to die. There had to be a way that could further his purpose... the ancestors would not have granted him this power if there weren't.
Then he had it.
"khamo djera," he said. "khamo djera kod kharda. kval dja rogha."
"khakh mehja'na, Mordok," the Shaman replied.
Varad slowly looked at the ground. He was going to die, but a feeling of peace swept over him.
"haja."
"mehja'nokh!" the Shaman screamed.
The next few moments were filled with blinding pain. The spears of the hunters pierced his flesh, his bones, and tore through the symbol burned into his shoulder. He screamed in agony as the weapons ripped his body apart.
He lay dying in the center of the circle, the fires around him, blood spattering the sand. Slowly, painfully, he coughed.
"gorod Mordok ma'ja khore," he said softly. "gorod Mordok po'rakhemo... magh..."
Blackness enveloped him.
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khameh'jo? = what do you want?
kagh khamada! = stand or rise (command)
khakh raj'da, dvor jon'dueh khada. = You are accused of practicing forbidden (black) blood magic.
rikh khedasha? = (lit.) True this is? but translates to: How do you plead?
khamo djera = Evil spirits
khamo djera kod kharda. = Evil spirits influenced me.
kval dja rogha = I worked alone. (Spoken only to acquit another [in this case, his son] from any involvement.)
khakh mehja'na, Mordok. = You will die, Mordok.
haja = yes (his saying yes was tantamount to an affirmation of the sentence)
meja'nokh = kill him!
gorod Mordok ma'ja khore = Clan Mordok will live on.
gorod Mordok po'rakhemo magh = All
will hail Clan Mordok.