This was written during MoP, to explain some of the story aspects.
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He sat on the steps of the tavern, a tankard of ale in one hand and the other stroking the head of the big golden cat that was sprawled beside him. Pogeyan rumbled happily, the closest sound to a purr the big cat could make. If it could be said to be peaceful in that noisy, active place, Hallax was at peace. He was home.
Around him, the main square of the world’s most magnificent city buzzed with life and activity. Orgrimmar was always busy during the day but some days it was hectic. The taverns did a roaring trade, the market vendors hawked their wares happily, groups of friends gathered to plan the day’s activity or to drink or to fight or just to be there.
Hallax remembered the day he had first come to Orgrimmar as a young, naïve hunter on his first trip to the big city. He’d stood outside the gate, gawking up at the enormous wooden palisade walls topped by spiked towers, with the red and black banner of the Horde flying proudly in the breeze. Born and raised in a small village in the hills of Kalimdor, he’d never seen anything like it, and his heart had swelled with pride that his people, the Orcs, and had built and sustained this amazing place.
On that day he had pledged his life to Thrall…Oh, Thrall, how I miss you…and had never doubted that allegiance. Well, perhaps now and then when he thought on their current Warchief. As unfamiliar as he was with the greater tactical workings of the Horde, even Hallax could tell that Garrosh was obsessed in his hatred of the Alliance, to the point where his rage sometimes overcame his common sense. Assuming he had common sense.
Orcs, after all, where not known to have a lot of that. They had relied on the Trolls to offer them solid counsel and the Elves to whisper advice. But Garrosh had put the Trolls at a distance and the Elves seemed silent of late. Whether they were afraid or simply disenchanted, Hallax did not know. He was not privy to the greater goings on of the Horde leadership.
I know you are off doing great and important deeds, Thrall, but I hope you complete them soon and return. I fear the future of the Horde without you.
From the building next door to where he sat, Hallax heard the brassy quarrelsome voice of one of the auctioneers.
"I’m telling you friend, you can’t beat a Goblin deal. Our commission is tiny. Alright, not so tiny but worth every copper. We’ll make you rich!"
Hallax wasn’t sure about the Goblins. They were greedy, bad tempered little things and they worshipped wealth the way another person worshipped a deity. Not that they couldn’t fight when it came to it; they were tough, dirty fighters who could slice a windpipe as quick as you’d want in a fight. And he had to admit, they’d made him some decent money on the auction house. He sold his skins for a good profit, enough to outfiht himself with decent gear and buy good mounts.
“Will you get your big fat butt off the step, a better person wants entry.”
Hallax’s hand went to his dagger before he squinted against the sun and realized who it was.
“Lanellia, you’ll insult the wrong Orc one day and end up with a foot down your gizzard.”
The slim elven hunter sat down beside him, comfortably close. “All Orcs are wrong Orcs, don’t you know. How do you go this fine day, my friend?” She put her own beast, a rather ugly spider, off to the side. “Do you like my new pet?”
Hallax shuddered. “Spiders. What is this thing you have with giant spiders?”
She shrugged one elegant shoulder, tossing her silver hair back. “Trust me, my friend, when an Alliance grub sees Manylegs there going for them, they shed a few pounds running before she even bites them.” She grinned, showing white teeth. “I’m like my spider, I like to play with my food.”
Hallax gestured to the barmaid for another tankard of ale. “For an elf you are very Orcish.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. So, any plans for today?”
“Not yet. I’m feeling adventurous, any suggestions?”
Lanellia took out her dagger and stone and began to sharpen the already needle sharp edge. “I thought perhaps we might get a few other adventurous types together and take on the beasts in Shadowfang Keep. I hear there are good riches to be had there.”
As they planned the day, the great drum boomed the hour, the guard flights swooped overhead and the smell of roasting meat drifted out from the tavern.
It was, indeed, a good day to be in Orgrimmar.