The KMG had an RP event that was fishing in Mar'at, this takes place during (and after) that.
Huuza of the Darkspear sat on the Mar’at dock with his legs dangling in the water and his fishing pole laying forgotten at his side. He had already filled a basket with his catch, there was no need to catch any more. Apparently his companions had decided the same - the mercenaries had all abandoned their work and were relaxing both in and out of the lake. It was beautiful day with a warm sun blazing over the palm trees and the cool water. But even with the clear sky, a dark cloud had found a way to cast it’s shadow over one member of the gathering.
In an unguarded moment Huuza had told them that being here reminded him of home, of the lost Darkspear Islands. And it was the truth, even if the comparison was a bit thin. Home.. When Huuza thought of home he didn’t think of memories of his childhood spent under the tropical sun nor the few happy months he had spent with his mate. The memories that crowded his thoughts were darker and claustrophobic - the village in ruins, his friends and family dead, Kalli lying lifeless in a pool of blood. It was years ago but he still felt her absence.
Having lost the good mood he had previously been enjoying, Huuza made a half-hearted effort to pull away from the dark thoughts and focus on the present day. He cheered with the others as Wrokk successfully demonstrated his method of fishing using only a rock, and tried to find some curiosity in the Earthen Ring representative who had come to speak with Grazzug. But the day was ruined, so he finally just gathered up his belongings and left to return to their camp.
It was as he was putting the fishing pole back on the supply cart that his long ears picked out a noise that seemed out of place. There was someone moving around to the north of the camp, someone who was very much not one of the Ramkahen.
Suspicious, he tossed aside the pole and grabbed his weapons. He left camp going northeast, following the faint sounds of man and animal. It didn’t take long to find the source against the long unbroken sand dune - one of the human bandits had brought his camel down to the river. They were leaving and not a threat.
If it had been any other day, Huuza would have let him go. But on this day, the memories of trolls dying and dead at the hands of the Kul Tiras invaders clung too close.
He ran light-footed over the sand, asking for the wind to push him along and for the earth beneath him to steady the sand as he passed over. When he got close, he took one of his axes and threw it at the man, hitting him in the leg and sending him sprawling. The camel took off running, leaving its master to his fate.
A few more steps and Huuza was on top of his victim. He flipped the human over onto his back while grabbing his weapon and sending it skittering away across the ground.
“Filthy human!” He snarled, pressing his thumbs into the soft throat, watching the man squirm as he gasped for breath. “You dead, ya know dat?” The first blow with the axe had taken a large chunk of meat from the man’s leg, he was already bleeding badly. But Huuza had no plans to wait for him to bleed to death.
“I swore on de dead body o’ my mate ta kill you humans.” He knew the man couldn’t understand him, but he was enjoying the struggle of the body beneath him. A sharp pain at his side showed that the man had kept a dagger hidden away in the clothing, and he casually reached down to grab it. “Never bothered ta keep count, but I’ve done my bit in gettin’ vengeance for what ya people did. Ain’t so hungry for it these days, but I also ain’t about ta turn down a chance when it comes ta me.”
He held the little knife up to the man’s face and let it sink into the pink skin. As the blood pooled around the blade, his scowl turned to something more fearsome - a savage smile full of tusks and teeth. He looked around to make sure that there was nobody to witness what would come next.
He leaned back down to address the fading human, “Thrall he said we had ta become civilized ta join de Horde, and give up certain o’ our practices. But he ain’t in charge anymore, and de orcs ain’t as civilized as they claim. And, anyway, there ain’t anyone around ta complain about what I’m gonna do.”
Rising from his position over the human, he ripped off the man’s shirt. He tossed the dagger aside and used his larger axe to open the man’s chest and crack apart the ribs. Reaching in, he fished around through the various organs before pulling out the heart.
The sun was sinking low on the horizon when Huuza finally walked back into their camp. He was in a much better mood, with both of his axes hanging from his belt and a little too much blood still lingering on his lips.