-- Throwing his weapons to the ground, Raemah grunts and acknowledges you. "Sit, and listen." He forcefully points to the ground.
"My people, the Blackrock Clan, was not always ruled by that brute Rend Blackhand. We were once a glorious, proud clan; we held some of the greatest warriors that the Old Horde had seen." He throws a tattered banner to your feet, nodding at it. "We were strong in arm and number. Our leader was, after Orgrim Doomhammer's death, my grandfather. Jubei'thos, the Red-skinned Slayer, Blood Drinker of Alterac, and most notably...Foeslaughter." He sits, taking the banner and placing it in his pack.
"I was a coward, a weakling, back then. I was only spared from exile due to the black blood that ran through my veins, the blood of our Chieftain. I was sent with a small group, in the wintry months, to hunt and thin the numbers of ogres, our once-allies." Raemah sighs, growling under his breath. "They slaughtered us all, leaving me for dead. I was saved by a... blue-eyed elf priestess. Weeks passed until I would see her again.
My grandfather routinely sacrificed humans, dwarves, elves, and whoever he found to be outside of his rule, for demonic rituals. I saw the elf girl, my "Elf Sister," in a throng of captured soldiers. My vision went red..." He pulls out a piece of dried and cured meat, ripping it and chewing slowly. He swallows the meat, continuing with his story.
"I let out a warcry that would have rivaled Hellscream himself and charged those who held the prisoners. Flesh, bone, organs, even plate and mail was utterly shattered. To keep myself from dragging on... The girl was released, by force, and I left for the west that day. My grandfather was killed only a month later by the Scourge's generals." He crosses the swords before him.
"Before his death, before the raid on my old home, my grandfather had come to his senses. He began to embrace the spirits again, turning from his demonic masters! ...A messenger brought this news to me, half-dead and starved. He said that Jubei'thos's last words were 'I am glad 'he' is gone. The boy is the son of my son, and is the bearer of my blood. He must carry on the legacy of Foeslaughter, since my actions have damned me.' My grandfather was a good man, friend, simply addled for a time." Raemah finishes his story, stands, and walks off.