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Moloch drove in hard against Chief Yip Yip, wildly slashing at the Hozen and driving it around the arena. The Hozen continued backing away from the noble, nursing its wounded hand and trying to stay out of reach of Moloch’s dagger. At length, the Hozen was at last cornered against the arena wall, and Moloch began to move in for the kill. At that moment, with a howl of rage, the Hozen launched itself against the noble. Surprised by his opponent’s sudden onslaught, von Zinzer gave ground and evaded the initial strike.
Now the momentum of the battle ground to a halt, and the fight began to resemble its earlier stages, when Moloch had, rather than press the attack, chose to feel out Yip Yip’s capabilities. There were a couple of moments when von Zinzer thought that he saw an opening, but rather than take it, chose to feint or dodge, extending the fight and ensuring that the noble would be able to end the combat with a single well-placed strike. The two combatants were very nearly equally matched at this point, Moloch’s rationality impaired by the curtain of red hanging over his vision, Yip Yip by his bloody hand.
Moloch leaped backwards, dodging a strike form the Hozen, and the monkey-like being leaped in pursuit. As soon as the Hozen was within about three feet, von Zinzer shifted from a backhand to a fencer’s grip, and there was a faint click, barely even audible to Moloch’s ears. Yip Yip abruptly stopped in midair, and an observer looking very closely could see a fine gleaming line of metal partially buried in the fur of the Hozen’s right side, despite the fact that the hilt of Moloch’s main gauche was at the completely wrong angle. The noble slammed his dagger hand to the ground, bearing the Hozen chief along with it. As the hapless creature was lying on the sand, Moloch followed it down, still in human form.
Yip Yip never even had time to scream. Moloch drove straight for the throat, and his unnaturally sharp fangs ripped through veins and the airway, and a bright red fountain of arterial spray erupted from the dying Hozen’s throat. Claw-tipped fingers flashed downward, pulling out the dagger and tossing it aside, all thought of picking up and cleaning his weaponry forgotten in the heat of the moment. One of the most disconcerting things about Moloch was his secret of how he managed to stay in human form, even when he was ripping into a still-warm corpse: the apothecary’s mix that had restored his mind was incomplete, and only partially derived from the full cure. It kept him from easily sliding into his wolf-like form; that was something Moloch could only do with great difficulty. Even then, the desires of his other half broke through, and the noble found it easier to simply slake his hunger under circumstances that he controlled rather than fight it constantly.
The noble tore into Yip Yip’s body, using his hands to rip apart flesh. Moloch knelt over the Hozen and worried at it, tearing off dripping chunks of meat, reducing the body into a scattered array of disemboweled organs as von Zinzer continued to feed.
Xian Li watched Moloch finish the Hozen, shreding the poor creature, ripping flesh from bone. "It is like watching a tiger devour a mushan." she commented, shuddering as she watched fur, blood and organs fly across the arena "He is far more of a animal than the creature he faced."
She shook her head and turned back to the bar not wanting to watch the disgusting primal display going on in the ring.
Aliyara looked up from here book at the painful howlings, the crowd gasping in the viscous display of terror. Aliyara quirked an eyebrow, and went right back to her task at hand, just finishing a few minor details of the noble prior to his entering the arena. She nibbles the end of the charcoal, a slight dark smudge lingering along her lip before she shuts her book and stuffing it back into the back of her pants.
She was bored now, she just so happened to catch sight of more of her kin arriving, some claiming to be brawlers. She runs her fingers over her forehead, thick droplets of sweat condensing along her finger tips and flinging off in one direction. It was so bloody hot, and humid. She wiggles a little in her seat, her armor binding up the sweat soaked linens underneath. Letting forth an annoyed grunt, she ponders how long it will be before she enters the ring herself.
She sighs heavily, throwing herself onto he feet and pops her hips as she makes her way to the bar. She lays her forearms to rest, bending just slightly, and dropping back a leg. She best remain hydrated, the humidity would no doubt affect her stamina in the arena. She drops a few coins on the surface and points out her drink of choice. Ice water.
Alabron shook his head at the violent display the noble put on for the audience. "Disgusting dog." He spit on the ground as an insult to the man. He got up and headed over to the bar. He ordered another mead, still not feeling the effects of alcohol. He looked around the bar and noticed a female kaldorei who had ordered ice water. "Brutal show, huh?" That's all he said as he took his drink and was about to head for his seat.
Azurara could hardly bring herself to watch that thing in the arena mangle the body of the hozen. In all the combat she had seen, she had never seen anything so... horrid. "This is why I prefer to study." she said quietly as she turned away from the arena. Another Kaldorei woman who ordered ice water. Then a kaldorei man, the one who fought the giant croc earlier joined them.
"Brutal show, huh?" He said.
While he was probably not talking to her, she responded. "It's disgusting. That thing in the arena should be put down like the rabid animal it is." She refused to acknowledge that that thing in the arena was even a person. Sighing she took a metal mug from her small pouch and placed it on the bar. She left the pouch on the ground at her feet. Concentrating she conjured a refreshing ice cold beverage and began to drink it.
"Well done Moloch! Congratulations on a great win! Very bloody!" Pixie said into her microphone the crowding roaring in approval, their choler up which is exactly what she had wanted. "For our next fight we have yet another wolf, Kalipsia Darkfang! She's pretty new around here so I think we should go easy on the lady!" Pixie said, the crowding still roaring hoping that this Worgen would let her primal nature take over just like Moloch's had.
"Up against her today is... Zian, The Spectral Tiger!!!!" Pixie said as both combatants were transported into the ring. Zian looking fierce and a roar echoing out of the spectral beast. "Let's have ourselves a fight!!!!! 3... 2... 1... FIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Pixie roared and the crowd joined in, cheering on whoever they were throwing money down as the bookies walked through the stands and the arena accepting bets with 3:1 odds against Kalipsia's victory.
Ashok frowned as he watched the end of the of the fight, he had known that it might end like that. Yip Yip had done the wrong thing in pissing Moloch off, at least now Ashok had a better grasp of what to expect from the noble. "Bartender, refill for me and get me a glass of your best scotch on ice please." Ashok said, dropping a few more coins on the bar as the drinks were brought to him. He then took a sip of his whiskey and waited till he saw Moloch to give him his scotch.
Ashok then noticed the name that had been called as the next opponent of the worgen he had been speaking to. "Sh*t she's in for a world of hurt, I've seen three brawler's go up against that cat, and all three got torn to pieces. Here's to hoping she fares better." Ashok said to no one in particular at the bar, but others joined in as Ashok gave a bookie three gold coins on Kalipsia. Ashok then sighed as he turned to watch the fight, wondering how this Worgen would handle fighting the cat.
After the display of brutality Kalipsia heard her name called out. She stood up from her seat just before being transported into the ring, blinking a couple of times to help shake off the haze caused by the sudden transportation. Before her stood a massive spectral beast that loudly roared to the delight of the crowd. Quickly the worgen's hands moved up to grasp the handles of the pair of blades held firmly on her back, thumbs running over the buckles that held each blade in place on the hilt to release them into her possession. With a deliberately slow motion, intended to show off the weapons as they were drawn, she pulled her blades out and dropped into a defensive stance.
The tiger glared into the eyes of its combatant, fiercely growling as the pair stared each other down. Before Kalipsia rushed blindly in at the beast she spotted small bits of dried blood and damaged fur, suggesting that her opponent had defeated others within the arena before. The warrior decided it was best to test her foe first and slowly started to move to the side, her action mirrored by Zian. For a few moments they both circled the arena floor, waiting for the right moment to strike.
From the stands a drunken yell rung out and an empty bottle was flung, smashing against the worgen's shoulderplate and distracting her for a quick moment. The beast saw its chance and lunged forward, roaring loudly as it moved in to try for an easy kill. The worgen roared back and charged forward, lowering her shoulder and barreling into Zian quickly. The tiger was knocked from the air but managed to quickly swipe, slashing the worgen across the legs and leaving a numbing feeling in them. She growled as the feeling slowed her movement a little and stole her follow-up strike away as the tiger jumped up to its feet. It growled loudly and lunged again, landing on Kalipsia to knock her to the arena floor.
The crowd went wild as they anticipated a quick, bloody finish once the worgen fell. Zian roared as he raked claws against plate, but before he could do much more than scratch the warrior raised her head to smash it against the tiger's, surprising and stunning it for long enough to be thrown off. Kalipsia rolled quickly into a crouched position and swung her blades, carving into the disoriented beast's side before it was able to scramble up and out of her reach. The foes stared each other down again, each growling lowly as they tensed in anticipation of the other's next move.
Edited by Kalipsia on 2/13/2013 4:41 AM PST
After ordering their drinks, Donithil a water filled with ice and Deliane another whiskey, the twins sat down and decided to watch the end of Moloch von Zinzer's fight. They were watching intently, all while trying to listen to the others around them. It was pointless to eavesdrop now; the crowd was so riled up from the fight, their cheers and hollers were far too loud.
"Rather savage, don't you think?" Donithil muttered, taking a sip from his glass, hoping it'd cool him down. It did help his throat, but a drop of sweat still rolled down his forehead. He wiped it away, for the hundredth time wishing his armor wasn't black. All it did was absorb heat, and he was usually used to warm weather, but this was unbearable.
Deliane held her whiskey glass in her hand elegantly, swishing it around just a tiny bit. She eyed the arena underneath her hood, making out what she could. The match was coming to an end and Moloch had made the final move. Or so she thought.
Chief Yip Yip's body was being flayed, suddenly becoming a chew toy, or a meal, for the worgen. Deliane only sipped her whiskey as she watched, her eyebrows going up. It definitely wasn't what either of them were expecting of the man who seemed so noble. Then again, it shouldn't surprise them. All nobles seem to have dirty secrets, and Moloch's was more vicious than dirty.
"Savage indeed." Deliane replied, the fight ending and she placed her whiskey down on the table. "The crowd loved it though. Maybe they're more savage than the man himself."
Donithil nodded, thinking about Deliane's point as they emptied the arena and placed the new brawlers in. The people here, viewing all of this, must have been uncivilized. Of course, they didn't have high expectations when they came here, but for people to roar and cheer at the sight of blood and death was barbaric. They lived in a world filled with war and they couldn't sate their blood lust outside? It was a bit mind boggling to Donithil.
The crowd had dimmed down and the twins were finally able to hear conversations. Most of the other brawlers were disgusted, and Donithil had to agree with them. He had thought the same thing, but his face didn't show it, nor did his actions. He kept a business-like demeanor, allowing Deliane to hold the expressions, though even she matched him.
The next fighter in was another worgen, causing Deliane to roll her eyes. How much bloodshed did these people want? Maybe she'd actually be civil with her fight, still fulfilling the needs of the people, but with a sword instead. Deliane highly doubted it though; they were still animals, still feral, and still cursed.
Donithil watched the fight, this time with the opponent as a spectral tiger. He quirked one eyebrow, glancing at Deliane. She nodded once at him, both silently agreeing it was a nice surprise. The fight was almost close to boring, but the tiger finally leapt at her, allowing it to truly begin.
"So far, she seems tame. Using her head rather than her claws. Literally." Deliane snickered, finishing her whiskey and looking at Donithil. He nodded, lifting up his hand to get the attention of a nearby waitress. When she came around, Deliane had a wry smile on her face. "Oh, Donnie, you're buying more drin-"
"Two waters, ice please." Donithil ordered, placing both glasses on the woman's tray. She nodded, skittering away to the bar. Deliane's smiled vanished quickly, a scowl in the way. Donithil only smirked with a shrug. "You need to be hydrated, properly, for our fight. We're probably not too far away now."
The noble picked himself up from savaging the Hozen's corpse in time to collect his weapons before being teleported out of the arena. Moloch was, quite simply, a mess: a stream of blood had splashed from his mouth to his boots, and there were flecks of gore stuck to his clothing. As soon as he reached his bought-and-paid-for section of the first tier, the Shadow Corps. sergeant held out a fresh suit and pair of trousers with a raised eyebrow.
"Rather sloppy form, sir." he remarked drily.
"I'm aware." Moloch replied in a mildly irritated tone: it was unfair, perhaps, as he was more upset with himself than the sergeant. "That was for the benefit of the crowd. The sight of a human ripping into a warm body? The peasantry goes wild over something like that, as you saw."
"And?" Moloch sighed.
"And... I lost control." The sergeant remained silent, and seeing that there was not relief coming from that direction, the noble continued. "It's getting easier as the years pass, but I still get these... flashes. You've been with me since the first: you know how I was like the first couple of years." The sergeant nodded as von Zinzer went on. "Still, this isn't a complete disaster. The other contestants will probably react with a mixture of horror and disgust. They'll believe that I'm a wild animal rather than a fully rational being, and they won't expect me to exert the level of control that I normally do. And with that, I need to change out of this suit." Moloch took the change of clothing from the sergeant and walked out of the arena for a few minutes.
When he came back in, rather than going to his private section, Moloch decided to go back to the bar where he had left his gloves and cape. It would certainly give him a chance to evaluate the other contestants and their reaction to his little bit of exhibition in the arena. With a polite smile, his lips covering his teeth, Moloch picked up the articles of clothing he had left behind.
"My apologies for that display in the arena." von Zinzer said as he pulled on his gloves and re-attached his cape. "The mind may stay the same, but the requirements of the body... not so much. Shifting into my worgen form probably would have helped with ripping the body apart, but that's a bit difficult for me." The noble sat down next to Ashok and picked up a scotch, sipping it idly as he watched Kalipsia fight Zian.
"Spectral beasts: marvelous fun on a hunt." he remarked to the small group that was apparently treating the bar as their regular hangout. "Tracking one through a Northrend snowstorm, not knowing when it may spring out of the gloom and start savaging the group? Better yet. I do so hope that they'll be able to simulate certain conditions as this picks up in popularity. Actually, I might be able to help them on that front..." Moloch idly trailed off, muttering to himself as he thought of possible improvements to the arena.
Seeing that Moloch had returned he left his place at the bar and approached the noble, "Good fight, though rather ferocious I will say. I've only ever met one other Worgen who can do what you do and still let their rage get the better of them." Ashok said in a friendly tone, handing von Zinzer the scotch he had ordered for him, the cool amber liquid gleaming quietly in the light of the dimming afternoon sun. It would soon be evening and Ashok wondered how the crowd would react to the Brawler's night time fights that were always very enjoyable.
"As to hunting spectral beasts, I prefer leaving that to others who enjoy it more, there are other things in the world that need killing besides beasts. Especially in Northrend..." Ashok said, trailing off as his mind was sent back to that time two years ago when he fought under the banner of the Alliance and as a paladin. He mentally wrenched himself from those thoughts and back to the present watching the fight that was going on with some interest. "I'll say she beats the cat, albeit she'll come out of it a bit banged up."
After a bit of time Kalipsia thought she saw an opportunity as the beast's eyes glanced back at the cut she had made on its side and charged forward. Zian's attention was drawn back to the worgen as he lunged forward as well, both meeting in the center of the arena to trade blows. The spectral cat swiped and slashed, but his claws could just barely scratch the plated armor. With more confidence Kalipsia pushed forward, quickly striking at the beast and making several deep slashes along her opponent's hide as the warrior forced the beast farther back across the floor.
The sound of the roaring crowd seemed almost nonexistent as Kalipsia moved in for a large strike, bringing her massive blade up over her head to smash down on the tiger. Zian, however, seemed to get more than a second wind as a gleam appeared in his eye and he started slashing and biting with more force and speed than he had shown before. With such a surprise assault the worgen lost grip on the sword in her primary hand, bringing it down too quickly to parry a strike and having it knocked from her grasp across the arena. She took several steps back, remaining just ahead of the tiger, to regain her footing. With a deep growl she threw the other blade onto the sandy arena floor, letting feral instincts take over as she held up her clawed hands and roared.
Zian pressed his advantage and lunged, but the warrior was prepared and caught the tiger in the air. She punched hard at his gut as back claws raked along her arm and shoulders, leaving deep gashes as the claws tore through the metal. Kalipsia twisted her foot and threw the beast hard against the floor, head first, to stun him. As the feline was recovering from the blow the warrior's foot smashed down on Zian's back left leg with a loud crunching noise of bone breaking. The tiger roared in pain and stumbled forward to try and get away but had difficulty moving quickly, something the worgen planned to take full advantage of as she lunged toward the injured beast.
Zian made a last attempt to finish the battle quickly as he leaped with all the strength he could muster and bite at the worgen's throat, but the warrior moved an arm quickly to block the tiger's head. Jaws bit down hard, nearly crushing bone in their grasp, as Zian clamped down and held tight. With blood running down the tiger's face the warrior grasped Zian's head with her left hand, reaching over the head to give more leverage. A savage roar erupted from the worgen as she pulled both arms in separate directions, forcing the tiger's head to turn sideways and causing a loud snap! of neck bones breaking. Zian went limp against his foe, the life fading from his bright eyes.
After prying open the dead beast's jaws and rescuing her arm from his maw the warrior collected her weapons and moved back to the corpse. She sheathed one blade and used the other to start cutting into the body of the tiger's underside. The first thing to be removed was the heart, which was held up for the viewing pleasure of the crowd before being devoured quickly. With her display finished the warrior proceeded to quickly remove the skin from Zian's corpse, thinking about how nice a cloak the hide would make.
Edited by Kalipsia on 2/15/2013 5:49 AM PST
The death knight was set into being entirely nonchalantly oblivious as to what was going on behind her. She had been watching, entirely unconcernedly, the fights, wondering what the nonsense she was expecting would be.
It was one of those funny feelings you get, you think something's going to happen, you're just not sure when. With a mental shrug, the death knight attributed it to her current mental state and leaned on the railing, even in the sweltering heat, she looked entirely at ease, not sweating, not panting, not even breathing at the moment, the hoarfrost on her armor glinting in the sunlight.
Her unnatural chill was mostly defeated by the weather, but that didn't mean she felt the heat. Not that she felt the cold, either, though. The picture of bored annoyance that was written across her face was entirely genuine, and she lounged languidly on the railing still, silently watching.
The Worgen and the cat were going at it with claws on both sides. She was, however, cheering along with the rest of the crowd at the cat’s death, stll evaluating the fighter herself, though, debating the best way to go about winning the crowd's favor.
Edited by Allaynna on 2/16/2013 9:27 AM PST
90 Pandaren Monk
Xian Li turned back to the fighting after Moloch returned, she watched the other Worgen fight a spirit beast, she had heard about these rare creatures, but she had never seen one before now, she felt a little sad, that such a majestic creature was being forced to fight for the entertainment of others.
In the end the Worgen came out alive, with a rather nasty wound on her arm, Xian Li watched and the Worgen cut out the creature's heart and, after showing it to the crowd, ate it, then proceeded to skin the beast for it's pelt. "Another primal display." She muttered "Are all Worgen such beasts? And she's not even taking the meat, that would make a rather good steak, if prepared properly." She sighed turning back to the bar, despite not having the coin to order a drink.
As the crowd cheered at the bloodshed and several among the crowd started booing and shouting in anger at losing their bets Pixie smiled as Kalipsia was teleported out of the arena. The sun was setting and it was time to get the lights on and the fights going again. "What a fight what a fight! Pixie shouted into her microphone, the crowd roaring in approval.
"Now that night is beginning it fall its time to get this arena lit up and more fights to go down! You want that yes?" She asked, the crowd roaring in response, "Very well! Lights please!" She shouted and suddenly goblin generators thrummed to life and lights filled the arena to the crowd's delight.
"Next up we have Xian Li Honningbrew!!! This little pandaren is new and so we are going to give her something easy! She'll be fighting against... Razor, the kobold king!!" Pixie shouted lifting her hands in the air as the two combatants were teleported into the ring.
"Get ready! Set! 1... 2... 3... FIGHT!!!!!" Pixie shouted and watched as the crowd hooted and hollered.
Aliyara leaned over the counter of the bar, her forearms at rest along its surface. She periodically tipped the glass of ice water to her lips, swallowing at the voice of one of her kin.
"Brutal show. Huh?” her ears twitch at.
She runs her arm over her mouth, stray drops clinging to her lips before staining as a small, wet spot along the length of her arm armor. She smiles politely to the man, nodding ever so slightly in return. Her immediate attention is drawn away as, yet, another Kaldorei across the way, speaks.
“It’s disgusting. That thing should be put down like the rabid animal it is.”
Aliyara frowned a little, finding her kin’s words a bit harsh. This was a brawler’s death match, blood should be expected. Still, she forces a smile and looks back and forth between the two curiously, still bent over the bar, both hands gripped tightly around the glass.
She wasn’t too interested in the brawls; she found her own ways to pass the time, truly just waiting for her name to be called. Her ears twitch at the sound of new combatants, growls and yelps echoing from the arena. She figured it was an animal fight, which she felt to be more disgusting. She’d cringe at the sound of breaking bones, her nose wrinkling unpleasantly. When her time comes, she hopes it is a humanoid. One that could think and understand the fate it subscribed itself too.
A new name was called, this one she might watch, a Pandaren. She has heard of their unique fighting styles, and the skill and effectiveness of such. Perhaps she’d learn something. She turns her body and stands straight, folding her arms over her chest and leaning her rear against the counter of the bar, a curious brow quirked.
Edited by Aliyaras on 2/19/2013 4:15 PM PST
"As to hunting spectral beasts, I prefer leaving that to others who enjoy it more, there are other things in the world that need killing besides beasts. Especially in Northrend..."
Moloch waited as Ashok drifted off. Clearly, something had happened in Northrend that had deeply affected Longshadow: hardly surprising, considering that the nature of the war against the Lich King. The human-form worgen took a sip of whiskey while the ex-paladin collected himself.
"I'll say she beats the cat, albeit she'll come out of it a bit banged up."
"Of course she'll beat the cat." Moloch scoffed. "This is warm-up entertainment, nothing more. They're throwing soft stuff at us, something to give the crowd their blood sport, get them riled up, drunk, and betting money. The only reason that Hozen even managed to steal part of my suit was because I haven't had the opportunity to go on a hunt in Pandaria yet." The last part was mostly braggadocio, but it had been a rather easy fight.
"Now, this Pandaren; I am rather interested in seeing if they truly are the fighting masters that they've been made out to be. If they aren't... fear, terror, and desperation are my three favorite marinades.
"Finally, that Night Elf over there -I heard him call me a 'disgusting dog' that should be put down. You appear to know a bit about the procedures of this establishment. What is the accepted protocol for issuing a challenge to another combatant?"
1 Human Warrior
Krieg remembered his first flight. It had not lasted more than a few moments before he had ended up in a battered heap on the ground. His mother, ancestors bless her, had come racing out tears in her eyes terror in her heart, cradling her battered and bruised boy. He had remembered her hot tears falling onto his tender skin, yet he knew not why she had cried. Those first, awkward moments of flight had stirred something inside him. A great love had been born that day, one that would never leave him even unto the day he joined his ancestors, flight.
As the wind howled past him, sun shining blindingly off the clouds he was among, Krieg Stromrider could do only one thing. Arching his back the young dwarf let out a bellow of pure unadulterated joy, one that was quickly answered by his most trusted companion and oldest friend Swiftfeather.
With a flick of his wing, the majestic gryphon caught a down draft sending the pair hurtling from the heavens at break neck speed. Before them the vast jungles of stranglethorn spread out before him like a work of art. The hot humid air blasted his exposed, weather-beaten skin as the pair descended from the cool upper air currents.
With a squawk, Swiftfeather broke right, he had spotted their destination. What seemed like a spec of dirt began to grow ever faster and began to form a great brownish bowl. Before him lay the mighty gurabashi arena, and the Brawlers guild whom he would try and join. They were almost there; soon the Dwarf would have what he came for, gold, and beer. With a tap of his feet, he gave the signal too Swiftfeather, and the pair made their final descent.
Furling his wings too his body, Swiftfeather and Krieg fell from the sky like a meteor. Knuckles white, adrenaline flowing, heart pounding in his chest, Krieg was in Nirvana. Ever closer the pair came to the unrelenting earth, faster and faster they descended until at the last possible second Swiftfeather snapped his wings open. The sudden deceleration caused a tremendous gust of wind and an impressive thunderclap to echo throughout the immediate area. The pair landed amidst a crowd of angry customers and contestants, whom were now laying prone on the ground, wishing to be granted access into the arena.
Still mounted atop Swiftfeather, the pair made their way up the sandstone ramp to the entrance which was blocked off by two imposing taruen guards. Before they could ask, Krieg reached into his green raptor leather vest and showed his slightly crumple invitation. With a nod the guards allowed them to pass, much to the displeasure of the crowd whom was just getting on their collective feet.
As he stepped forward, Krieg could hear the lusty howls of the onlookers as well as the clash of steel from down in the pit of the arena. Taking in a deep breath of the humid air, Krieg made his way towards the bar where it looked like most of the fighters were huddled around. Dismounting, Krieg covered the last leg quite quickly as the thought of food and alcohol acted quite motivationally upon him.
Seeing a dwarf, the bar tender approached and immediately began spouting off the ale list, which was no slight to krieg as it saved him some breath. “Aye, Gim ‘me two flasks o stout, n two large croc’ stakes laddy, n mak’ it snappy!” With a roll of his eye, the bartender quickly produced the food and spirits allowing the dwarf to make his way back to Swiftfeather.
Too one inexperienced in the way of food and drink, it would seem like it would take a miracle to make it all in one strip, however, Kireg was far from inexperienced. With deft ease, the dwarf danced his way around fellow patrons and obstacles until he found an empty table large enough for Swiftfeather to lay next to, and that had a view of the carnage going on in the pit.
Dropping the two flasks of stout in front of him, Krieg tossed one steak to swift feather and one to himself. Famished the friend wolfed down their crocolisk steaks. The spiced meat went down smooth, not too gamy not to tender, just smack dab in the center. Leaning back in his chair Krieg let out a long sigh as he stretched out his body from his long flight. Extending his hand, The Wildhammer dwarf grasped the first flask and began slamming it down as he watched an elf do battle with a crocolisk, with the dwarf found quite humorous, since he had just done battle with a croc off his own and had come out the victor
"You appear to know a bit about the procedures of this establishment. What is the accepted protocol for issuing a challenge to another combatant?"
Ashok raised his eyebrow at the Gilnean and smirked, "The guards will put you down quickly if you try to fight him out here, wait till you are a higher rank and maybe challenge him then; for now just let the little pretty elf boy talk smack. He's your regular run of the muck Kaldorei marksman, nothing special about him." Ashok said, just loud enough for the Night Elf to hear.
He than handed Moloch the drink he had ordered him, "Here's for a good show, seems like you brought a whole retinue with you, guessing you are expecting trouble eh?" Ashok asked, sure that was the case and looking to find out as much as he could. The warrior didn't want to be caught with his pants down if the same people who were hunting Moloch were hunting him, it wouldn't do. Not to mention it might be helpful to have a friend with some firepower behind him.
Moloch looked like the type Ashok might dislike for their personality but someone he could stomach to keep surviving as he was. Ashok took a drink of his whiskey to mask his own disgust at the word surviving. He hated how far he had fallen, but he didn't have much choice in the matter.
"Here's for a good show, seems like you brought a whole retinue with you, guessing you are expecting trouble eh?"
"Retinue?" Moloch raised his eyebrows at Ashok as he sipped at his own whiskey. "Oh, you mean the people in the rather distinctive purple-orange armor? They're actually here on the orders of a friend of mine. I thought I had managed to give him the slip, but when I got here, I found a section of the lower tier already reserved and a few of the Sha... a few of my 'retinue' already here. He can be rather overprotective at times, not without good reason." The noble took another sip and swirled the drink around, contemplating life and the chain of events he had sparked half a lifetime ago.
"Suffice it to say that I have a rather longstanding feud with another House. We Stormwind nobles are very good at keeping vendettas, but right now they and I have something of an unofficial truce. They don't send assassins after me and put contracts out, and I don't do my best to hunt down and destroy every branch of their House. I highly doubt that they even know I'm here, much less have some assassins waiting in the wings to strike."
Edited by Einherrjar on 2/22/2013 1:19 PM PST
With watching eyes, Donithil had been observing the fight between the spectral tiger and the worgen the entire time, deciding to zone out and ignore his sister for the time being. Deliane didn't seem to mind; she was bored out of her wits though waiting for their turn. She sat at the table, drumming her manicured fingers along it, tapping her foot, swiveling in her chair and winking at some of the men hanging around the bar. She finally let out an audible sigh to Donithil, catching his attention with a quick glance, then he proceeded to watch the ending of the fight.
"Donnieeee, this is getting so boring. Can't we jus-"
"Maybe," Donithil began, cutting a quick gaze to his sister, looking rather irritated, making her shut her mouth immediately. He only gave her such a look when he was getting annoyed; it was rare of her to annoy him, but she didn't like it at all. "if you paid attention to the fight, you would learn something from these brawler's."
Deliane only raised a brow smally at him, only he noticing it underneath her hood. "Nothing for us to learn from them, we have our own way of fighting. Learning how they fight, how they plan and strategize, is good knowledge though. You were paying attention earlier, were you not? Did you just get tired of seeing the same old routine?"
The female twin didn't know what to say. She did get bored of seeing everyone fight and she had been paying attention. Deliane merely shrugged at him, giving Donithil answer enough as he nodded towards the arena, her focus brought back over there. The fight was nearly over, the worgen and tiger up against one another, until finally, his neck snapped. Donithil and Deliane exchanged a glance, thinking the bravado was over, until the heart of the tiger was cut out and eaten.
"Well... thanks for making me pay attention to that." Deliane muttered, shuddering. Donithil snickered, a crooked smile appearing on his face. "Oh it wasn't that bad. You've seen worse, with me."
Deliane was about to argue, but Donithil only raised a sly eyebrow at her. She smirked, remembering the night when Two Tooth Larry had gotten drunk off his rump, getting into a fight with someone at a bar in town once, and his leg getting sliced right off. After that, he had a limp and a peg leg.
"Maybe we shouldn't have left to come here. We could've been helping Larry with his leg and all." Deliane suggested. She really hadn't wanted to come here in the first place, but Donithil had insisted. She still stuck by her opinion though.
"Larry's fine, he's had his leg off for about a year now. Come on, look, a new fighter's about to be in the ring." Donithil informed her, as the announcer said the Panderan would be going in. "Now this one, I hope you're willing to pay attention to."
Edited by Valamunre on 2/22/2013 12:45 PM PST
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