The dust inside Brawl’gar Arena was aggressive. Recent fights had stirred up the earthen floor, pushing a large plume towards the entrance. Nearly everyone was coughing and those with allergies were leaving. Ash already had a headache and the dirty haze made it worse.
In addition to the pain in the back of her skull, she’d been feeling nauseated all morning. Nerves , she figured. She was anxious as well as eager to find the halforcen. If the rumour turned out to be true.
The path to the back where the bar and kitchen were located seemed interminably long. She was stopped at least four times by peddlers of odds and sundry and once by an arena employee asking if she were there to fight. She was almost there when the ringmaster announced the appearance of a previously retired champion. The crowd cheered as a blood elf warrior in old, well-used armour entered the ring. A small, foxlike creature Ash had never seen before followed the warrior.
Everyone who had been in the bar exited when the new fight was announced. A crowd pushed against Ash as they made their way to the ring or bookies. Frustration shook her as the steps that should have taken less than a minute took nearly ten. By the time she entered the bar it was empty, save the barkeep.
He looked up as she came in. “Not interested in seeing the old champ get dusted by the newcomer?”
“Not really.” Small talk will loosen him up, she thought. “Who is the newcomer?”
The barkeep gathered dishes and glasses from the tables. “Did you see ‘im? He’s a little horror, that vulpera.”
“Vul-pera?” Ash sat down at the bar so that when he came back, she wouldn’t have to yell her questions.
“Yep.” He tilted his head toward the wall of pictures behind the counter. “He’s the one on the right. Ya haven’t seen one before?”
Ash shook her head. “I’ve been away.”
“Well, they’re slowly making themselves known around here. Baine sure misjudged them at first.” He set the tub of dirty dishes behind the counter. “What can I get for you?”
“Baine? Baine Bloodhoof?”
The barkeep stopped what he was doing and stared at Ash. “You have been away. You do know we’re under council rule now, right?”
Ash wasn’t curious enough to ask. She had more pressing matters. “Yes, of course. I was just distracted by the fight.” She motioned towards the ring where the vulpera had just fired a large hand-cannon and his opponent was rolling on the ground.
“Hmph!” The barkeep leaned forward. “Celoren is going to get his behind kicked. Again. He should have given up seventeen fights ago.”
“The announcer mentioned he’s come out of retirement?”
“He claims he’s back and ready to reclaim his title.” The barkeep pointed to another picture with Celoren holding a large, ornate belt. “Personally, I think he needs the money.”
Ash nodded as if she cared about the goings on of down-on-his-luck blood elf. “Do you have any Dalaran Noir?” She would rather drink from the Bloodvenom River than take sip of Dalaran Noir.
“Eh, this is a fight club, lady. I got mostly rum and punch. The closest thing I got to the fancy stuff is a wine that’s kinda fruity.” He held up a bottle. “Do you want it?”
The rum sounded fantastic, but Ash nodded and set two silver on the bar. She looked back at the fight ring while the barkeep pulled a glass off a shelf. “When I came in, a large group was leaving yet you are here by yourself. Do you not have anyone to help you when it gets busy?”
He squinted, sizing Ash up. “You looking for work?”
She kept her eyes on the fight. The vulpera was now standing on top of the blood elf’s chest, pummelling the face shield of the fallen man. “No, just wondering how this place is kept running by one person.”
“My wife helps out sometimes. But it’s mostly just me.” He filled the glass up halfway and pushed one silver back towards her. “It might not be to your liking.”
It wasn’t. “It’s fine.” She glanced back at him for a moment before turning to see the blood elf stagger to his feet as the crowd roared. “I was curious because I heard a little rumour a while back.”
The barkeep’s squint became a scowl. “A rumour. About my bar?”
“I’m sure it was nothing.” She took another sip and smiled. “After all, it was clearly unfounded.”
His hand, cracked and dry from years of washing dishes, slapped the top of the bar with crinkled thud. His expression of consternation was almost comical. “What did you hear?”
“I heard you keep underage orc girls in your employ.”
His cheeks swelled. “Baine would have my hide.”
Damn. Another dead end. She managed a smile. “I see.”
“Besides,” he leaned forward. “You can’t trust those jolly green giants with glass. They’ll literally crush the overhead budget.”
“Rumours get started by the wildest of imaginations.” Ash closed her eyes for a moment and rubbed the back of her head. “So you’ve never had any orcs working here? At all?”
“Absolutely not! Who told you that bit of a twisted nickle?”
“I’m not sure. I travel so much.” She wasn’t going to give him the name. Her informant in Booty Bay would never trust her again. “But if I recall correctly, I believe it was at the Speedbarge Bar in Thousand Needles.”
“Damn that Pozzik! He lets the worst kind in there.”
Ash coughed. She was feeling quite unwell. Setting down the glass, she slid several silver towards him. “Thanks for the drink. This dust is getting to me.”
The barkeep took the money with a nod and went back to washing glasses, grumbling about incompetent goblins.
Her stomach knotted like Kypari Zar, Ash left just as the vulpera was declared the winner. Outside, she found a bench, slid down until she was prone and sighed.
