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Something within Jaina warmed at the sight of Kul Tiran sailors mingling with the dwarven patrons in the taproom of the Thunderbrew Distillery. It was rare for Kul Tirans to travel so far south into Khaz Modan but Menethil Harbor needed help. So Daelin Proudmoore sent his eldest son to Ironforge to negotiate terms of trade and aid with Magni Bronzebeard directly.
Having never been to Ironforge, herself, Jaina immediately jumped at the chance to accompany her brother on this very important diplomatic mission. The negotiation table was no place for a sixteen year old human but that didn't mean she couldn't be useful elsewhere. She took it upon herself to take the some of the sailors Derek brought inland with them to go on an expedition to explore the nearby town of Khandros and taste test the legendary Thunder Ale. Her brother merely laughed at her offer and told her to make sure they brought back two kegs for the ship.
So Jaina sat in a corner of the Thunderbrew distillery sipping from a tankard ale. From her vantage point, she could see the dwarven innkeeper, his assistant and the barmaids hurrying about trying to keep the tankards full. So far her brother's men were behaving themselves. It helped, she mused, that the sailors and the dwarves appeared to share a passion for good drink and storytelling.
A strong gust of cold air cut through the warmth of the room and she looked up to find the cause. She paused mid-sip and blinked. An entire squad of elven rangers, bundled up in heavy fur-lined cloaks entered the space. Jaina hummed thoughtfully. While it was rare for Kul Tirans to be so far south, it was near unheard of that even one high elf would be in the area much less an entire squad of rangers.
The innkeeper seemed unfazed by the sudden appearance of such exotic guests. Instead, he merely greeted them cheerfully in Common and took their orders. It was clear that the elves were unused to the cold mountain air and snow of the mountain. They were all shaking visibly to a man despite their heavy furs and the warmth of the taproom. Some of the sailors gave up two of the tables closes to the great hearth that dominated the far end of the taproom. The elves, most of them women, Jaina noted, appeared grateful for the tables and its proximity to warmth. The sailors moved on, crowding more closely around other tables but every so often they would cast curious glances at the elves. Unlike her fellow countrymen, Jaina was used to seeing high elves. They were everywhere in Dalaran, though she knew only one or two who would even consider stepping foot into a place like Thunderbrew Distillery.
She sipped at her ale as she studied the high elves. They had lined up their ornately carved longbows neatly against the wall nearest to the tables and as they warmed up, began to shed their cloaks. They wore light leather and mail armor gilded with delicate eleven filigree and quivers bristling with colorful fletching. The warmth of the fire and the constant flow of good beer and spiced bread appeared to have its intended effect of loosening up the rangers. It was enough that some of the dwarves and humans began to approach them with more tankards of beer and an invitation to join their conversation.
Jaina watched this exchange with a smile. It was nice to see the mingling of races outside of Dalaran. She took her own tankard to the bar and swapped it for a fresh one before walking up towards two of the rangers huddled together around one end of a table conversing in Thalassian.
"Bal'a dash," she greeted them in her heavily accented Thalassian. The rangers blinked, looking surprised at the sound of their traditional greeting on the clumsy tongue of a human woman. One of them smiled back, "Greetings." Her own Common carried the lilting accent Jaina had grown used to hearing from the elven mages. The other one moved over a bit more, creating a space for Jaina to sit down. She took the unspoken invite and introduced herself. She noted, with some relief, that her new companions did not seem familiar with the Proudmoore name.
As Jaina chatted with the rangers, she learned the rangers were part of a new unit designed to resurrect the old mission of the Farstriders; defending Quel'Thasas from beyond its borders. As part of the unit's new mission, the Ranger-General arranged to have the squad conduct training exercises in the area. She even hired on some of the dwarven hunters to act as their guides. The Ranger-General herself was somewhere in the area, working with their guides on setting up the next exercise.
During her conversation, Jaina heard the sound of something large and heavy being dragged across the taproom's stone floors. When she looked up, she saw dwarves, humans and elves alike shoving benches and heavy tables around to create a clearing around a small table.
Sitting at the table was one of the sailors and one of the rangers.
"Oh no," she muttered, a sudden sense of forboding washing over her. She and her ranger companions watched the sailor and the ranger prepare for their match. The sailor, a man named Johnson, cracked his knuckles and rubbed his shoulders. He was well built, appearing as sturdy as the ships he sailed. The ranger across from him did the same. She had a more slender build but with the wide powerful shoulders of an archer who spent a lifetime perfecting her craft. When elbows hit the table, Jaina groaned. They were preparing to arm wrestle. Though she spent most of her time in Dalaran these days, she knew her people. She'd seen one too many tests of strength in the crowded pubs of Kul Tiras to know that this would not end well.
She quickly scanned the room looking for the squad's superior officer. None of the elves appeared to bear any recognizable symbol of leadership.
A shout and a curse tore her attention away. She turned just in time to see the ranger slam Johnson's arm down onto the heavy oak top. Several of the rangers cheered and a few sailors whistled loudly in appreciation. One of them slapped Johnson on the shoulder, laughing at his reddening face. Johnson was still swearing when he jabbed a meaty
finger in the ranger's direction. "Best two out of three!" He shouted and the Kul Tirans cheered.
The ranger smirked. "Bring it on," she said as she flexed her fingers.
Jaina started to stand. She counted twelve rangers, not including the one at the table, eleven Kul Tiran sailors, not including Johnson, and about a dozen dwarves. She stopped counting and stared at the dwarves. A crowd surrounded two of them. She could see the glint of silver changing hands. Of course. They were taking bets. A part of her wondered what the odds were.
She turned her gaze to focus on the contest. She frowned slightly, chewing on her lower lip as she watched the two contestants strain against the other. The crowd around them cheered words of encouragement in a confusing mix of Common and Thalassian. She could see sweat beading on the ranger's forehead while Johnson's face turned red from the strain. They were both giving it their all. Johnson was forcing the ranger's arm down quarter inch by quarter inch. Suddenly, too quick for Jaina to see, the ranger slammed the sailor's arm down to the table.
The other elves and those who bet on the ranger cheered but Jaina wasn't paying attention to them. She was watching her own sailors. She was already half way across the room when Johnson rose to his feet, knocking the chair to the floor. "You CHEAT!" He roared at the ranger. Jaina started forward but before anyone could intervene, he swung his fist across the table.
Several things happened in quick succession. The ranger stumbled backwards from the surprise attack. Her squad mates caught her and closed ranks as insults started to fly between the two groups. Jaina stepped between the two parties just as one of the elves picked up a full tankard of ale and threw the contents of it in a wide arc. The bulk of the ale hit Jaina square in the face. Alcohol stung her eyes and the room descended into a shocked silence as she wiped the drink from her face with her left hand.
Someone roared behind her, "They attacked Lady Jaina! GET THEM!" Suddenly the tap room erupted into violence. Kul Tirans surged forward, half of them already drunk, with arms swinging. The ranger squad scattered with startling efficiency and slipped between the sailors, using their shorter height and slimmer build to their advantage.
Jaina experienced a moment of disbelief and then launched herself at the ranger who threw the beer in her face. "For the Tides!" she shouted as her momentum knocked the ranger off her feet and straight to the ground. The two grappled for a while. The ranger managed to flip Jaina onto her back before the mage managed to shove the heel of her hand underneath the ranger's jaw, snapping her head upwards while using the temporary gap to drive her knee upwards into the elf's stomach. The ranger lost her hold and and fell backwards with a startled gasp. Jaina quickly got back to her feet. The ranger scrambled to her feet a moment later and threw out a punch with her right arm. In her haste, she over extended her arm. Jaina reached up and grabbed the passing wrist with her left hand before the elf could pull back. She leveraged her grip and her height to yank the elf towards her. She delivered two quick jabs to her ribs before letting the high elf go and sending her flying backwards into a table with a well placed forward kick.
She looked about the taproom. Tables and benches were flipped over and she suddenly realized why most of the seats were largely benches. It made hitting someone over the head with a random piece of furniture a lot harder. Since hitting someone with a chair was out, Jaina resorted to tapping the shoulder of the nearest ranger with her back towards her. When the elf turned, she grinned broadly and delivered a right hook straight to her face. The force of the blow sent the ranger reeling but Jaina didn't give her any breathing room. She stepped forward, crowding into the other woman's space and followed up with a left handed kidney punch. The second punch send the ranger staggering backwards, gasping for breath.
Before Jaina could land a finishing blow, strong arms slid under her armpits and pulled. She felt herself getting yanked backwards even as she cursed loudly. Rather than try to break free of the hold, Jaina grabbed the wrists of the high elf holding her back and leaned back into the body. She used the leverage to jump upwards and kick out with both feet. The soles of her boots hit the charging ranger in front of her square in the chest. Even with the din of full on bar fight going on, she could hear the snap of a bone breaking. The ranger she kicked went down and the one holding her up staggered backwards under both the weight and the force of Jaina's movements.
The heavy oak door to the taproom flew open and hit the wall like a crack of thunder. Instantly the room went still and as one, all eyes turned towards the brewery entrance. A high elf resplendent in her blue and gold armor stood at the top of the stairs staring down into the main room with eyes that glowed nearly as brightly as the fireplace. The ranger still clinging to Jaina immediately let go, dropping her to the ground with an unceremonious thud. Rangers broke off, leaving the Kul Tirans still standing somewhat bewildered. Jaina rose to her feet with a groan, rubbing lightly at her bruised back.
The high elf at the top of the stairs barked something in Thalassian. The entire squadron snapped to attention and collected their things. They filed out of the taproom in an orderly fashion, though Jaina noted with some pride that at least two of them needed help getting out the door. The high elf cast her gaze about the taproom with a stony expression. Her eyes narrowed slightly in recognition when she spotted Jaina. Her ears twitched and she gave the mage a slight incline of her head before turning away without saying another word.
Jaina swallowed hard as she watched the elven woman leave. She only tore her eyes away from the space the woman once stood when a heavy hand patted her shoulder. Instinctively, she grasped the hand and spun on her heel, twisting the offending arm with it. The sailor the arm belonged to yelped, "L-lady Jaina!"
Blushing lightly, she immediately dropped the arm. "Ah! Sorry sorry! Are you alright?"
The sailor grinned, the flesh around one eye already starting to bruise, "Been worse. Thank the tides you're not hurt. Your brother would have our hides if we let something happen to you."
Jaina laughed, "He'd never let me hear the end of it. Come on. Let's get everyone back on their feet."
Later that evening, when Jaina and the sailors finally returned to Ironforge, Jaina told Derek about the fight. She apologized profusely for not stopping the fight between their men and the elven rangers. Derek merely laughed, clapping Jaina on the back. "Remember this Jaina, a Proudmoore never backs down from a fight." He grinned at her with a mischievous glint in his eye. "We'll let father take care of the diplomatic fall out. Now tell me again about how you dropped two eleven rangers in one fight."
Jaina flushed with pride at her brother's words and launched into the story once again.