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This is a welcome to brother Raognu Saargh, long overdue. gorod Mordok po'rikhem magh!
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The night was dark as the two heavyset trolls lumbered through the forest. Many moons past, they had forsaken the peaceful, idiot society of trolls to roam the dark forests, discovering their land and creating much more than they had ever hoped to achieve.
On Torgol's back was strapped a crude stone sword that they had chiseled of granite. He kept it honed as sharply as was possible, and replaced it when necessary. Durgrim kept, upon his body, many knives made of wood and stone that he would often use for hunting. He had become of a deadly aim with his knives, and when it became necessary, he wielded a blade similar to Torgol's.
There came a night that the two brothers, bound in blood and rite, heard the anguished cries of what sounded like a fellow to their blood. It was hard, in that dark and twisted forest, to mistake the painful cries of a wounded Troll for anything else. Quickly, and silently, they moved among the thick black trunks to where they could see what was going on.
Only a few meters away, three humans had captured one of their kin, a young, tattooed shaman that neither Torgol nor Durgrim recognized from the village they hailed from. As before, when he and Durgrim had met, the symbol upon Torgol's shoulder began to burn insistently. Instantly, the Leader knew that this young shaman was meant to fight alongside him, for the ancestors had spoken.
With an insistent nudge to Durgrim and a battle cry that shook the very stones around them, Torgol Mordok leapt into battle, drawing the stone blade from his back and swinging it with an insistent deadliness. The three humans, caught by surprise, barely had time to raise their weapons before the two brothers had slaughtered each of them with ease.
"Khakham nokha'lai?" Torgol asked the young shaman, who was bleeding from many a terrible wound and indeed lay close to death.
"Nakha'lai," the shaman breathed. "Moreakh kod tojokh meh'jahna."
Summoning up the will of his ancestors, Torgol Mordok lay his hands upon the dying shaman. A green light shone from his knobbed fingers, and the wounds instantly healed. In the same moment, the black symbol of Clan Mordok affixed itself to the shaman, forever binding him to the Clan.
"Jakha toh majeh?" Torgol asked.
"Raognu Saargh," came the reply.
Together, Torgol and Durgrim saluted the newest member of Clan Mordok, with a roar into the night.
"Khajameh!"
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"khakham nokha'lai?" - Are you alive?
"Nakha'lai." - I live.
"Moreakh kod tojokh meh'jahna." - They can't kill me.