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December 2007



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Original Wide Awake

jinxedpoet in blackwaterstory

To Be the Best

Original Link: Here

Koryc Boaalb. He was a skilled fighter. Some said he might go to the top. But to Koryc, it wasn't about the fame, the fortune, the perks. No, to him, it was only about being the best. The best what, you may ask. The best at what he does. And Boaalb was a Boxer. He had fought Draenei that punched so hard that sometimes he wasn't sure if he was boxing or trying to give the Deeprun tram a kiss.

He had sparred with Night elves that could dodge a flurry of blows but respond with lightning that the eye could barely register. And yet, one way or another, he had managed to survive that one last round, that one final barrage.

Yes, no one questioned the cast-iron jaw of Koryc Boaalb. What people questioned, was his potential. Every day was either a fight or a training session. To him, there was Boxing, and death. But today was the culmination of everything he had ever learned, today was Koryc Boaalb's baptism under fire.

They had brought in, with the blessings of both the Alliance and The Horde, the most promising fighter from either faction. Before him stood a brute of a brute of a Mok'nathal. The hulking Half-orc looked like he ordered steel as an appetizer. Muscles rippled along both arms, to the point that perhaps even an inch more of muscle would've burst open his arm. They called him Jorgak the Destroyer. One man once asked him what it was he destroyed, his answer was short, simple, and terrifyingly true.

"My opponents."


The announcer had walked into the ring, carrying what looked like a large cone to amplify his voice. The crowd's general buzz lessened to a dull roar as they quieted to hear him.

"Welcome, One and All to the first ever Cross Faction Boxing Exhibition, We have tonight the two greatest Heavy weight warriors from all of Azeroth, sponsored by the Illustrious Steamwheedle Cartel. Now, Let's get ready to Ru-uuuuuuumble!"

The announcer strutted off the stage, a smug grin on his face, no doubt due to the knowledge that the SWC was paying him a ridiculous amount of money simply to say a few lines.

And than the lights dimmed.

There he was, 9 feet tall, savage, and with a look in his eye that made Daelin Proudmoore seem like a Pacifist. He slowly lumbered towards the ring as the cadre of orcs around him were constantly whispering things to him, no doubt mantras to keep the Mok'nathal from going bezerk before he got into the ring. As the massive boxer climbed into the ring, Horde spectators went into thunderous applause.

The opposite of his opponent, Boaalb just made a quick jog towards the ring, occasionally giving someone in the crowd a nod or handshake, and briskly hopped into the ring. From the sidelines, in a special VIP booth, sat King Magni Bronzebeard, Dwarven King of Ironforge, and beside him sat Warchief Thrall, Son of Durotan, and Leader of the New Horde. Magni gave the human boxer a thumbs up and a wise, knowing smile.

Turning to face his enemy, he did something he had never done before. He turned around, got down on his knees, and prayed.

The Mok'nathal had brought the fear of the Light into him.

Danjo's Bet
Dan slipped over to the goblin counter at ringside.

"Any bets on the human?" he asked in a gravelly whisper.

"Naw! Well, wait... just one!" the goblin answered in his high pitched squeaking voice.

"Let's not keep that one lonely. 2000 gold on the human. Is there a pool on knockout?"

The goblin flittered through a few papers on his small desk and found a small yellow parchment.

"Yeah! 20-to-one the human gets knocked out and/or killed!"

Danjo smiled behind his cowl. "I'll take that action. Another 2000 gold."

The goblin looked confused. "But boss, the payout on that would be so low, it'd hardly be worth..."

"You misunderstand" Danjo interrupted, "I want that 2000 on the human knocking that half-orc's ass out."

The goblin smiled greedily and took the two sacks of coins from Danjo. "Yessir!"

The referee beckoned to each fighter to come to the center of the ring. The crowd had taken notice of this and began to excite.

"Alright boys, I want a clean fight, no kidney punchs, no below-the-belts, no rabbit punches, be careful with those, now remember, I'm fair but I'm firm. Touch 'em up boys, c'mon, touch em up."

The two contenders tapped gloves, with the Half-ogre bringing his gloves down hard enough to get the message across, but light enough to not show open hostility.

Both fighters were sent back to their corners, waited briefly, and the greatest, most lovingly terrifying in the Boxing industry rang out.

The Bell signaled the beginning of Round 1.

Boaalb's Perspective

To either side of him the audience roared in anticipation, and his coach put a hand on his shoulder.

'Boy, that orc across the ring? He's a killer. And he'll tear into you like a blade through flesh, but when he starts hitting you, and he ain't running nowhere and keeps on beating on you when you're too damn tired to breathe? And you feel like just one more punch will end the fight? Well, then a guardian angel will be watching over you. He's going to take you by the hand, look you in the eye, and whisper in your ear...

GET UP, YOU SON OF A $%#@&, now go out there and fight him. To beat this bastard, you need speed. You don't have it. You need punches that'll rattle his ancestors and break his bones, you don't got em, what you have, is a stubborn spirit and an iron jaw, get in there!"

And the fight was on.

Boaalb kept light on his feet, dancing around the lumbering behemoth. A quick jab to the Half orc's face. He didn't even flinch. Another jab to his mid. No effect. He leapt in to land a series of strikes-

And the Orc took this chance to deliver a murderous right hook.

The first punch sent him flying backwards, into the ropes as stars exploded in his vision. Shaking it off, he started back up with the footwork. Hook, hook, jab, jab, jab. Every punch wasn't to wittle him down, but to keep the man out of distance. Like lightning, the half orc was inside of range, and unloaded a straight punch directly to his face. Boaalb hit the canvas floord with a thud. The ref began his count.







And he wobbled back up, trying his best to remember where he was. He nodded his head at the ref, showing he wanted to continue.

The Mok'nathal wasn't going to give him any break. With a roar he tossed the human into the corner, unloading furious body-shots, doing his best to block or avoid as many as he could, he half-dived out of the corner, managing to get a good punch on the Ogre. Another powerful punch straight to the Orc's body, causing the Ogre to recoil in surprise and pain. And then the bell rang once again.

He collapsed into the stool in his corner as Jack, his coach, put the canteen of water to his lips.

'You're fighting like a damn ape, what the hell was all that training for if you're just gonna be his friggin' punching bag!?! You gotta be first, you gotta be first!'

The bell once again.

Boaalb ran straight for the Half orc, unloading everything he had, the ogre roared in surprise as the small human began to really hurt the behemoth. But he couldn't keep it up forever. His footing slipped, and the orc sent him across the canvas into the ropes.

The Mok'nathal's Coach yelled to him.

'Go after him!'

And the Ogre did. In spades.

It was all Boaalb could do to cover up, taking punch after punch to the body, with a left hook causing his vision to darken for what seemed like an eternity, but was in fact but seconds. Once again he hit the canvas. The ref began his count once again.









He could hear the crowds. And yet he couldn't. He could hear their roars, but only decipher one. A human female.

'Get up, Get up!'

And in the unexplainable mystery of the human spirit, this gave him the will to keep on. He pushed himself back up yet again.

Boaalb looked at the Half-orc as he rose. The look was not of human contempt, or orcish anger. It was raw, it was the pure, animal, instinctual emotion,

of Fury.

With a roar he charged into the Orc. Landing blow after blow to the shocked Half-orc, the orc began to teeter as blood and sweat ran down both of the fighter's bodies. And in that moment, that eternity captured in 60 seconds, the blood was not of a Human Boxer and a Mok'nathal, but the blood of Alliance soldiers and Horde warriors, and the sweat of the civillains of both nations that toiled to aid their people. As both swayed back and forth, unloading fist after fist upon the other, that heavenly, ringing chorus sang out once more.

The 2nd round was over.

Boaalb would've hobbled to his stool and collapsed into it. But he was no longer in that world. He was on a different level, a different dimension. This was no longer a symbolic fight between the best of both nations, this was a nation fighting a nation. A war fought with armies of one. And as he drank the water pressed to his lips, he saw no orc, no human, no politics.

He only saw an opponent.

The bell sounded. The 3rd and Final round was at hand.

Both fighters came out slowly, in battle stances, sizing up the opponent. It was Jorak who rushed in first, swinging for the Human's head, Boaalb ducked, the glove missing by inches, having only a second-long time frame, he delivered everything he had into one punch. It sent his 9-foot tall opponent back two steps, and he was wobbling. The Human threw everything he had. Hooks, jabs, punches, uppercuts, bodyshots, and in that final moment, that one gap between war and the ring of a bell that would end the match, he did it.

Boaalb delivered the uppercut, and the massive Half-Orc, Half-Ogre hit the canvas with a rattling thud.

And all was quiet.

For a moment.

Then, it seemed the entire world burst into roaring, screaming, cheers and applause, and the human boxer took a wobbling step, looked into the eyes of all those who watched him, and then he too, collapsed, without an ounce of strength left into his heavily-bruised, savagely-beaten body.


Jack gave Koryc a pat on the back.

'You did good, kid. Now, stop teetering around like a moron, you've got two special guests.'

Boaalb gave him an odd look, but followed his Coach regardless...

right into the VIP room where Warchief Thrall and King Magni were waiting for him. He did his best to show signs of respect, but he couldn't eke out much, he just didn't have anything left. The first to step forward was Magni, the same warm smile he had on at the beginning of the fight.

"Aye lad, you fought a great bat'ul, not as well as'sa Dwarf migh'a don', but tha's a given!"

The King laughed and Boaalb gave him an appreciative smile. Then, after taking a deep breath, Thrall stepped forward. Expecting harsh words and curt responses, the Boxer was happily surprised when the Warchief extended his hand and the two shook hands.

"Koryc, you are truly an amazing fighter, and The Horde will always respect the strength, and compassion you've represented the Alliance with. It is my honor to know you."

"And my privilege to know you, Warchief."

And with that, a gentle nod was given by the Leader of the Orcs, and the Human Boxer that strengthened two nations by just doing his job began the trek back home, with the help of some Doctors, of course.

The End.