Chapter 4: The Tavern

Ladoreith sat in the Salty Sailor Tavern with Lawrence and Duruk. She sipped at her flask of port, while listening to Lawrence babble endlessly, without really paying attention. Every now and then she'd nod politely, or throw in an "Oh how fascinating." But engineering never held much interest for her, and that seemed to be all he wanted to talk about. However, he had mentioned that he was in Booty Bay with Duruk for a rest in between their travels.

For the most part, the orc hunter sat in silence, drinking from a skin of water. After a while, he turned in Ladoreith's direction and said, "You have a strange accent for a Night Elf. Where are you from?"

Ladoreith took a large gulp of port, nervous at the tone of his questioning. "Oh, I've lived here since I was little," she said, trying to sound casual. Lawrence looked suddenly disinterested at the direction the conversation was going. Duruk shook his head and muttered something, but his head suddenly shot up.

Lawrence noticed this and asked, "What's the trouble?"

Duruk, leaning into the center of the table, said, "The two Stormwind Marines across the room – no, don't look – are wondering why a 'good looking Night Elf is drinking with a couple of Hordies.' We could be in for a fight."

"Shit," said Ladoreith, as she heard the sound of chairs scraping across the room. "Act casual." She heard the heavy, plate-clad footsteps that announced the presence of the marines.

"Excuse me, ma'am," said an inebriated voice, "Are these two botherin' you? …hic!"

Ladoreith turned to see a very tall, well-muscled human man. There was another beside him, who was a little more slight, but still threatening. The young woman flashed the most innocent smile she could muster and said "Oh no, not at all. We were just discussing our favorite fighters in the Gurubashi Arena."

The taller man put on a smile of false civility and said, "Sounds like a good time. But, you know, where I come from, girls like you don't fraternize with their kind."

Ladoreith saw the foul look he gave Lawrence and Duruk. "I understand that," she said nodding slowly, "But quite frankly, I don't give a fuck what you do and don't approve of."

The entire tavern grew silent. Ladoreith heard Lawrence inhale sharply behind her. Both marines were growing red in the face, and stumbling for words. Ladoreith heard a low rumbling sound from behind her, and she realized that Duruk was chuckling. She turned around, and the orc threw his head back in a cackling laugh. "What are you laughing at, mongrel?" asked the marine. Duruk calmed down, but said nothing.

"I'll give you something to laugh at," the man said, drawing his sword. Ladoreith stood up from her chair, and gave the man a good punch in the face. Not expecting the blow, he reeled back, giving Lawrence and Duruk enough time to assume battle stances. The smaller marine backhanded Ladoreith, his plate gauntlet opening a gash in the side of her face. Lawrence fired a shadowbolt at the larger man, hitting him in the chest. Then, Duruk was upon him, grappling with him on the tavern floor.

Ladoreith pulled one of her father's daggers from her belt and swiped at the smaller man, as he dodged. It was at this moment that one of the bruisers came into the tavern. "Alright, alright. That's enough," he said. He came between Ladoreith and the smaller marine. Turning to the innkeeper, he asked, "Who started this altercation here?"

The innkeeper pointed at the large marine and said "This one here drew his sword at the orc. The elf punched him and everyone else joined in after that."

"Okay," said the bruiser. He gestured at the marines and said, "Boys, restrain 'em." A group of uniformed goblins handcuffed the two men and led them out of the tavern. The bruiser then turned to Ladoreith and gave her a stern look.

"How ya doing, Louis?" asked the elf, with a grin on her face.

Louis leaned toward her and hissed, "You'd better run home to your pop before I throw you in jail." Ladoreith nodded and gathered her things. As she left the tavern, Lawrence called after her.

"Will we be seeing you again?"

Ladoreith shrugged at him, and walked out the door.

Ladoreith stumbled into the door of her home. She felt lightheaded from the alcohol and the blood she had lost. She laid her catch from the day on the kitchen table and sat down heavily. She heard the limping footsteps of her father coming into the room. "Where da hell have you been?" he asked angrily. The wound on her face gave him his answer. "Oh no. Not another fight," he said in exasperation.

"At least I didn't start it this time," said Ladoreith. Halkek gave her a look that could have killed a kodo on the spot, and set to cleaning her wound.

"It's not as bad as it looks, but I'll still need to stitch it up," he said. He picked a needle and suture out of his first aid kit, and began to mend the wound. He took a deep, sad breath and said "I'm not always gonna be here ta patch ya up, ya know."

"Papa, why are you talking like that?"

"I've been thinking about what you said about training. You need to learn to take care of yourself, and I think I might have found someone who would be willing to teach you."

Ladoreith looked up in anticipation. An almost unintelligible stream of questions streamed from her mouth. Halkek held up one hand to silence her and said, "I'll be taking you to see him two days from now. He might decide to teach you, he might not. Don't get your hopes up too much."

Ladoreith nodded, and kept quiet. "Now, go to bed child," said Halkek, "I'll see you in the morning."

"See you in the morning, papa."

Halkek and Ladoreith stood outside of a small hut in the middle of the Stranglethorn Jungle. There were a few holes in the roof, and there was a small yard to the side containing three dilapidated training dummies. The place looked as if it was abandoned, and Ladoreith looked at her father in apprehension.

"Don' be shy," he said, "You're the one who wants to be trained. You go knock."

Ladoreith sighed shakily, and approached the door, which seemed ready to fall off its hinges. She looked back at Halkek, and she could tell that he was trying to contain his nervousness. Taking a deep breath, she knocked firmly on the door. There was a scuffling sound coming from inside, and a deep voice grumbled "On my way."

The door opened suddenly, and in it stood a very tall and broad man, with grey hair pulled back into a ponytail. It was clear that he had just woken up, and the smell of liquor emanated from him. He looked Ladoreith up and down and asked, "Whaddaya want, kid?"

Taken aback by his tone, the elf pointed back toward Halkek and said, "I believe my father approached you about my training, sir." The man's eyes followed Ladoreith's gesture to rest on the old troll standing up the path. His grey eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"When you said she was adopted, this wasn't quite what I expected," he called out to Halkek.

Before Halkek could respond, Ladoreith quipped, "To be fair, you aren't quite what I expected either."

The man looked at Ladoreith for what seemed like a very long time. He observed her facial expression and body language, looking for any clue as to her character. After a while, he extended his hand and said, "The name's Maverston. And yours?"

The elf looked at the man's hand apprehensively before taking it and replying, "It's Ladoreith. Nice to meet you."

Maverston nodded and said, "Well, Ladoreith, I guess we better get started."

It had been three hours since Halkek and Ladoreith had arrived at Maverston's house. So far, things were not going well at all. They had tried one handed weapons, but Ladoreith lacked the finesse and subtlety to wield them. She was slightly better with two handed weapons, but she had difficulty with the largeness of them. Maverston, seeming exasperated kicked the outside wall of his house. The vibration caused some of the training weapons leaning against the wall to begin tipping over in Halkek's direction. Ladoreith, seeing this, ran over and pulled the troll away from the wall, and instinctively brought up her arm to shield herself from the wooden weapons.

After the last of the training weapons had clattered to the ground, Maverston approached Ladoreith. Stroking his stubbly chin, he asked, "You're very protective, aren't you?"

"I suppose," replied Ladoreith. But Maverston had stopped listening to her. The gears were working in his mind, and they weren't going to be stopped. He went over to the weapons rack and picked out a small buckler and a one handed sword. After he handed them to Ladoreith, he chose a two handed sword for himself.

Without warning, he lunged at Ladoreith. She brought up the shield in self-defense, and swung at him with the wooden weapon, catching his shoulder. "That's more like it!" said the old warrior. He lunged at her again, but Ladoreith dodged out of the way, sending him running past her. Then, she used her shield to deliver a blow to his back. Maverston faced her and held up his hand to end the sparring session.

"We've figured out where your strengths are, which is good," he said, "But I think that's enough for the first day. Come back twice a week to continue your progress."

"Thank you for the opportunity," said Ladoreith.

Maverston simply turned toward his ramshackle house and said, "See you later." Taking this cue, Ladoreith and Halkek got on their mounts and began to head toward home.