The Vosh Rakh wear masks and that's all right by me. I'd rather keep my name out of this, if it's all the same to you. I'm - well, let's call me Rohg. I was a decent Orc. I listened to my clan chief. I tried to live by the Grudge and the Broken Promise. And then I had a revalation. I heard the word of Trinimac and my life was completely changed.
So what happened? I was on my way to visit the city of Orsinium, taking a barrel of my clan's famous tree-stump ale to trade, when I was bodily assulted by a gang of Vosh Rakh recruiters. Praise Trinimac's name! They wrestled me to the ground, pulled a sack over my head, and took me to some secret location. I don't mind admitting I was scared for my life!
After what seemed like hours, one of the Vosh Rakh elders removed my hood. She said that she was going to show me the error of my old-fashioned thinking. That she was going to open my mind and make me more receptible to Trinimac's holy message. I won't go into too many details, but I will say that her methods included frequent beatings, endless repetition of key phrases, threats against my family, and a judicious amount of vile-tasting beverage that she explained would help me better understand the words of Trinimac.
When I finally relented and declared my devotion to Trinimac and the Vosh Rakhm, the process only continued for another hour before the elder was convinced of my sincerety. Then I was given my mask and robes and welcomed into the fellowship of the Vosh Rakh. Praise Trinimac!
Now? Now I'm a loyal member of the fellowship, one of Trinimac's sharp blades. I fight for the Vosh Rakh. I will die for the Vosh Rakh, if they ask me to. But here's a little secret - I don't want to be a Vosh Rakh! As far as I can tell, most of the recent converts don't want to be a part of the group. We just can't help ourselves. The recruitment drive is that good.