Rukhur's boots caused a solid crunch on the sand-covered pebbles that constituted the scenery outside of Uldaman, no matter how hard he tried to soften his steps. The Dark Iron scout was anxious, taking care not to veer too far away for as long as possible from the well-protected dig site encampment that his clan had set up outside the ancient titanic site. Eventually though, the night's task forced him to make for the night's darkness on his own.

The last couple of days had made the Shadowforge troops stay on their guard. Trogg activity had been on the rise for a while now, with diggers lost and tunnels collapsed by the hour, and a frightening peak had been reached at the beginning of the week: a wave of troggs had appeared, seemingly from out of nowhere, not from inside Uldaman but out of the Loch Modan region. Simultaneously, the doors to the titanic complex had spewn forth hundreds of the creatures and crushed the Dark Irons in a pincer movement they hadn't considered the primitive creatures capable of. A few of the survivors that had tried to defend the outside dig claimed a dwarf or earthen had led them but even intense questioning by Ambassador Infernus at Angor Fortress - a lovely euphemism for slowly being roasted to death, Rukhur always found - had yielded no further clues on that.

It all boiled down to a frightening thought, however: the troglodyte, unfinished-looking proto-humanoids suddenly employing tactics!

Rukhur crept closer towards the unmarked border that separated the Badlands from the Loch region, using the moonless night to approach the hated enemy's territory. He suspected that damn dwarf he had been sent out to make an end of was lurking there somewhere, probably too smart to have a fire going but there were bound to be other signs.

That was another thing: damn troggs were bad enough but now there were Bronzebeards snooping around, too. He had spotted a few of them wander past, Explorers' League by the look of them, and he had a pretty good idea where they were headed after tracking them to Hammertoe's dig site.

Hot on their heels came the bloody fool he was looking for now, with his annoying distractions, mainly set up to get a clear shot at the prospectors, it seemed, and his persistent needling of the outer guard perimeter. Losses were slim but the commander had his nerves torn to shreds by the week's happenings and would not stand for it any longer.

And along came Rukhur, like so many times before.

He closed his hand around the hilt of his short battle axe for reassurance, briefly pausing, before he continued on his way towards the banks of the Loch. Somehow, he was sure that he would find his new Bronzebeard friend there, predictably drawn to the fishing opportunities there instead of risking the bear-infested woods.

Rukhur wasn't disappointed. In the cover of the night, he allowed himself a grin, peering through the reeds at the prone form of a dwarf lying - seemingly asleep - in the shadow of two large boulders that formed a natural roof over his head.

Trust them to feel safe on their home turf, Rukhur thought as he moved closer, his axe now in his hand.

Warily, he circled the dwarf's camp, checking for the usual traps and other pitfalls the Bronzebeards so dutifully - and predictably - placed to ensure an undisturbed night's rest, disarming what he found with ease while trying to remain soundless to ensure his subject did not wake up prematurely or, as it were, ever again.

Satisfied with his progress, he finally approached the sleeping form, his shadow falling on the prone dwarf in the sleeping bag with the axe raised high. A low, muffled sound in his victim's throat told him he must have made a noise, after all, for the Bronzebeard suddenly buckled under the cover of his blanket and tried to sit up.

Not wanting any fuss, Rukhur brought the axe down on his head, splitting the skull neatly and causing all movement to cease. The blood on the axe's head looked black in the moonless night and as he peered at the hunched-over form of the now-dead enemy, he could barely make out his facial features.

"Dark night, isn't it?", said a voice behind him.

The audible CLICK! of a gun hammer being cocked followed this.

With a rising sense of dread, Rukhur dropped his axe, not daring to turn around and risk getting his head blown off.

"I see", he said. "Who, may I ask, have I just killed, then?"

"One of yer own, bub." Somehow, the Bronzebeard with the gun managed to make his grin audible as he spoke. "Introduced hi'self as High Prospector Tobruk event'shully. Well. After I cut orf ‘is pinky."

Rukhur's heart sank. He looked back down at the dead dwarf in the sleeping bag. Everything was shades of gray in the night but the corpse's hair was a shade darker than it should have been. With his foot, he kicked away the sleeping bag and saw that someone had expertly tied his victim up with several fishermen's knots, conveniently out of sight.

"He did not call out", Rukhur remarked.

"Yer might need a tongue fer that", was the reply.

The Dark Iron dwarf nodded. Mercy was something the Bronzebeards had heard of but they did not necessarily think it applied to Thaurissan's followers.

"But don' worry, lad. ‘E spilled t'beans afore I ‘ad ter shut him up."

Rukhur risked a peek over his shoulder to face what he no longer could refer to as his intended victim but, probably, his soon-to-be murderer. The Bronzebeard stood on top of one of the boulders, a double-barreled shotgun trained on Rukhur's head and a grim expression on his face. His bright, flax-colored beard stood out even in the murky darkness.

"I take it that I will not get out of this alive?"

The Bronzebeard - Narath - answered this with a grin.

Not long after, the geese broke from the reeds as two shots tore away the stillness of the Loch Modan night.

From a notice deposited at the Thelsamar way station of the Ironforge Explorers' League:

Boots,

Urgent! Got a hold of a darkie prospector - Wulfhardt no longer in possession of shard - trogg uprising fecked them all up good - shard probably reclaimed by troggs, taken into Uldaman - whereabouts of Wulfhardt unknown - track lost in confusion - darkies in disarray, reinforcement out of Angor Fortress arriving as I write this - good news: shard not with Shadowforge troops - bad news: expedition into Uldaman required - off trying to find Wulfhardt!

Narath