Waruk

I am Waruk, Shaman of the Red Orcs. Servant of Morkan, Bride of the Black Wings. Wife of Iqadron, God of Murder. She who unites the greenskin blood of Her children. She watches and judges. The Chooser of the Dead. Blessed are Her Crows who watch life so She may choose Her Chosen Servants such as myself. 

Feast of Blood at The Firepit of Morkan!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LDIWg7xf-go

Morkan, Bride of the Black Wings
In the ancient days, when the gods walked unseen among mortals, Morkan, wife of Iqadron, the Orc God of Murder, watched over the children of greenskin blood. Where her husband commanded the killing blade, she commanded the power beyond death.
Her spirit animals were crows, black-winged messengers that carried her will across the world. Orc, goblin, troll or half-blood, anyone with even a single drop of greenskin blood belonged to her. She cared nothing for ancestry or purity, only the blood that bound her followers to their divine mother.
Waruk, Shaman of the Red Orc Clan, had searched for her for many years. His people suffered endless wars, and too many brave warriors lay dead beneath foreign skies. One morning, a murder of crows gathered outside his dwelling. They flew north, pausing upon ancient stones to ensure he followed.
Through haunted forests and over desolate mountains, Waruk pursued them until he reached a hidden valley. There, beneath a crimson moon, he beheld Morkan upon a throne of black bone, her red skin glowing like banked embers.
He fell to his knees.
"Great Mother, I seek you for my people. Grant us your protection, that our fallen may not be lost forever."
Morkan extended her hand, and a crow settled upon her shoulder.
"Rise, Waruk. You have found me, and I have heard your prayer. Those who die in my service shall return, for death holds no permanent dominion over my children."
She touched his brow, marking him with her blessing.
Waruk returned to his clan with hope burning in his heart. Above him, the crows wheeled in endless circles.
From that day onward, the Red Orcs marched beneath Morkan's black wings, knowing their goddess remembered every drop of greenskin blood.
And death itself would fear her name.