| abstract | - Evening was the best time to be in Orgrimmar. The sun was set, the breeze was cool, and the heat radiating from the sun-baked rocks left a pleasant warmth in the air. Ajeera whistled an old song through her tusks as she sauntered down the main street of the Drag. I know I'm not the only flower you see, but what can I do? You are a good-lookin' bee... A raucous cat-call from a shop made her grin. She looked over to see if the call was worth returning but the grin slid from her face as she recognized a red-headed troll. Ol'juk?! She was so surprised that she stopped in her tracks, the tune dying on her lips. The last time she had seen "uncle" Ol'juk he had lewdly insinuated that he was her true father. They'd faced off in the Valley of Honour but she had been much younger, uncertain of both her abilities and her right to challenge him as an adult did. That had been years ago. What the fel does he want? The other warrior smirked, a lewd, unpleasant expression, and loped over. "Ho dere, leel 'Jeera," he said, scooping her into a crushing hug before she could stop him. "Give ya faddah a kiss, eh?" Jeera grabbed his shoulders, hauled herself up and kneed him hard in the ribs. He staggered back, gasping a laugh as the crowd rapidly melted away around them. "Don't touch me, Ol'juk. And don't you dare call yourself my father," she spat in Zandalar. "Oh? Aren't I? Where do you think you got your red hair, eh?" "My mother, you drunk cretin." "Ok, ok... so you're not my daughter? Does that mean we can fuck? Cause I'd love to have all three Bar'atts." Ajeera growled low. "Aunt Ketsuki would never lay with a crazy outcast like you, and mother neither. Pretty sure she spent twenty years in the wilderness just to avoid your ugly face." Someone hollered "troll fight!" but she ignored the orcs. "You take that bile back or I'll kill you," she stated flatly. "You're even easier to rile then your mother. Bet you're a screamer, too." "Give Karlak'ji my regards in the afterlife." "C'mon little 'Jee-jee," he said, smirking as he turned the troll's word for a hooker into a nickname. "Don't be that way. Your family's for loving, not fighting." Ajeera roared at him, ripping her axe free from it's sling on her back. He drew a sword, taunting her a last time. "After I beat you here, I'll bring you back to Un'Goro. I don't mind my brother's sloppy seconds - I got your mother first, after all -" The bestial roar as she charged him cut off what he was about to say. He was forced to leap sideways to dodge the massive blow from the battleaxe that would have taken a limb clean off. Ol'juk turned a handspring to land on his feet and drew a second sword as Jeera slid to a stop, her bare feet skidding in the red earth. Without pausing she launched herself at him again, screaming in berserker rage. Ol'juk met her charge, bellowing his own defiant shout as he parried her axe with both of his blades, catching the haft between them. She twisted the axe and kicked for his head but he ducked under it and shifted his weight, planting a solid front kick to her chest. She staggered back a step under the force but gave her axe a half spin and caught one of his swords under the moon-shaped blades of her axe's head. With a fierce tug she wrenched it from his grasp, partially disarming him. The move was costly, though. As she pulled one sword from him he swung the other low, catching her below the ribs. The cut was shallow but long and Ajeera felt a sudden rush of blood down her side. Ol'juk danced back with a vicious grin. "First blood, Jee-jee," he taunted. "Why don't you admit I'm the better fighter?" Ajeera spat at his face. He turned his head to avoid it and she lunged again, swinging a short, vicious strike at his legs. With an oath the older troll leapt straight up and over the blow, bring his own sword around to slash at her face as he landed. She couldn't recover in time to parry - the axe was too heavy. She let go with her right hand and brought her gauntleted fist up to catch it. The thorium rang as the steel blade struck. She felt the blow up to the shoulder but the thorium never gave. She grabbed for his sword, trusting to the strength of the gauntlet even as he grabbed the haft of her axe where she'd let go. The two trolls stared at each other for a moment, faces flushed with battlerage, each trying to disarm the other. Red strained to pull back her axe but he was as strong as she - maybe more - and while his grip on the axe was as good as hers, her grip on his sword was starting to slip. Her father's - her real father's teaching came to her then. Trick them. Kill them. Win. She grinned, growling a low, feral growl of a different nature. "Fight me, then, uncle, if you think you can take me." And she let go. Ol'juk barked a sharp, crazy laugh. He threw the weapons aside and shifted to the Darkspear's traditional fighting stance. Ajeera threw down her gauntlets and charged him. Her first haymaker went over his guard and caught him on the jaw. His head snapped back and his long tusks caught the underside of her forearm. It sliced the skin open to the muscle. The pain infuriated her. She jerked her right arm away and grabbed the dazed troll's tusk with her left, tugging him sharply forward as she brought up a high knee to his head. The angle was wrong, though, and the blow lacked force. Ol'juk twisted his head, stabbing with his tusks, loosening her grip on them enough to duck low and grab her legs. He lifted her high to drop her over backwards but she kept a firm grip on one arm as she went down. To the onlookers it seemed like he had her pinned but in reality his situation was more precarious. He could not threaten her neck or face with his tusks from his half-guard position and had to settle for kneeing her in the ribs to try and take the wind out of her. Red's ribs, however, could take more pounding than one knee could give and she savagely bit into his side as they wrestled for position on the ground. She kept one hand on one of his tusks to keep his head twisted sideways, so he couldn't gore her side. She pulled her other hand free and brought it up to her face even as he grabbed her hair to pull her smaller but still sharp tusks away from his exposed side. As her head smacked against the ground she dug her fingers into the bite wound, hooked them around the skin and exposed tissue and pulled. As he bellowed in pain and anger she heaved him upwards and half slid out from under him. He slashed viciously with his tusks, slicing open her shoulder before she could grab them and force his head back. A quick knee to the groin had him rolling off and before the strength left her wounded arms, Red had twisted around to put him in an open arm lock. She immediately broke his arm at the elbow, then jerked it around viciously. With a quick shove she rolled away from him and back to her feet. She was aware that the guards had arrived but knew they'd never interfere in a "Sen'jin Shitstorm" until the blood rage had worn off. She roared in anger, lettering the rage ride her, and lunged for the fallen troll. Ol'juk's face was as dark as her as he roared back and kipped up. The way his left arm hung made a watching orc gag and several children scream, whether in terror or delight it was impossible to tell. The two trolls charged each other again. This time Red tried to stay standing, ready to outbox the effectively one-armed troll. She darted around him, keeping her distance enough to avoid a take down and kicking constantly. He came at her wildly, his rage uncontrolled, unharnessed and ultimately useless against the better-trained warrior. A sneer twisted her lips as she finally dropped him by connecting a roundhouse to his temple. In an instant she was on him, pinning his shoulders down with her knees. He looked up at her, his eyes unfocused. "Kindi?" he asked in a confused, almost hopeful tone, reaching with his good hand as if to touch her face. "I..." Ajeera spat an oath at him and punched him in the neck as hard as she could.
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