It was a warm that evening in the great Dwarven city of
Ironforge, a slightly sooty breeze carrying the distant sound of hammers as
blacksmiths crafted their wares in the vast center of the city, the Great
Forge. Near by, deep in the gloomy shadows of the Forlorn Cavern, a group of
heroic adventurers gathered. First one, then more, unspooled their lines and
attached them to fishing poles... rooting around in their bags until they found
that favourite lure. The hunt was on, for that one... perfect catch. As time was lost to the methodical casting
and reeling of fishing poles, more adventurers gathered. It was almost time for
This haphazard band of heroes was not out for gold, glory or
riches. No, today was the day that they made their grand sortie to visit the
Extreme Angler Nat Pagle. Word had it that the ever so reclusive Nat was
handing out his well crafted fishing poles (rumour also had it that these
fishing poles would actually make fish hurl themselves from the water and land
IN your basket), not just to any adventurer, but only to those willing to
travel across the world to catch rare and exotic fish, thus proving their
worthiness of such a fine (and shiny) fishing pole.
When all had gathered at the appointed meeting place, the
mage Shimmersong drew a worn piece of parchment from her robes and laid the
plan. First, she would call upon the arcane forces to create a portal to
Theramore (a recently acquired and vastly helpful talent). The group stepped
through the portal, and so began a journey none would soon forget.
First stop on their list, Nat! (Well none of them are mind
readers, how were they to know what fish he wanted?) The adventurers gathered
at the end of the dock pondered their current conundrum... how do they get to
Nat? Nat lives on a small, remote island in the bay formed by Dustwallow’s
sundered land. The ladies didn’t want to their tresses dampened, and some of
the men had just had their shirts cleaned... the dwarf had even had the beer
stains removed! As the group, resigned to their slightly more soaked fate,
stepped off the dock, Kyrianya giggled and took pity on her companions, casting
a particularly helpful shaman spell that allowed the fishermen to ride across
the water as if riding the open expanse of the Shimmering Flats.
After a slightly perilous journey across the water to Nat’s
humble abode, the companions were given their quest. Four types of fish were to
be caught: The fine Feralas Ahi, the matchless Misty Reed Mahi Mahi, the scarce
Sar'theris Striker and the strange Savage Coast Blue Sailfin. The merry band
set off, a song in their hearts and fishing poles strapped securely to their
packs, catching the first line of gryphons West to Nijel’s point. One or two
aerial gunner mounts needed to be confiscated from one warlock who shall remain
nameless, however the nine adventurers landed safely, their minds focused
solely on the fact that they were within a short ride to the coast that held
their first bounty, the Sar'theris Striker.
The adventurers rode like a small convoy, across the
desolate lands, towards the gentle sea breeze that called to them like a siren
song. They gathered around a small
inlet, intent on their task. A silence fell over the group as the first casts
were made into the glistening bay. One by one the fish nibbled the baited
hooks. The group gathered, shuffled, and moved in for their first photo of the
night... all holding up their fishing poles in jubilation, the first catch was
One fish down, three to go. No sooner had the newfangled gnomish camera
clicked; the group rode off for the lush forests of Feralas.
It was known to these intrepid travellers that the pond of
the Feralas Ahi is not in the most accommodating of locations. It is at the
base of no place other than the feared Eastern wing of Dire Maul. The group rode
to the pond; mindful of the amount of noise produced by the hooves of the
cumbersome horses and clumsy elekk (the Night Elves looked on with faint smirks
as they sat on their spry cats). The snapping of one twig could be the undoing
of this noble band of fishermen, should the ogres catch the trespassers.
Reverently, they once again unstrapped their fishing poles, prepared the lures,
said a fisherman’s prayer, and cast their bait into the water. Slowly, but
surely, all caught the very tasty Feralas Ahi.
Shimmersong once again shared with us her glorious powers
and teleported our band to the Capital of the Alliance, Stormwind. Glittering
in the now setting sun, the city was breathtaking from the view at pinnacle of
the Mage Tower. All paused and took in the gloriousness of being part of the
good and wondrous Alliance, before continuing on to the second half of their
arduous journey. They slowly walked through the city to the now familiar
gryphon landing, and paid their fare to the goblin city of Booty Bay, the point
from which they were to foray into the wilderness, in search of the Savage
Coast Blue Sailfin. It was decided by the less bloodthirsty of the merry band
that a more nautical route would be taken to the fishing hole, as the land
route would have required the massacre of untold numbers of pirates (trying to
earn an honest living as smugglers). They gathered at the end of the dock for
another round of spells to be cast before they set off. Carefully, the group
rode up the waters of the Western coast of Stranglethorn Vale, as though the
water was nothing more than another road, towards the area commonly known as
the Savage Coast. Seeing that it would be perilous to fish from shore, the wily
group took full advantage of their water walking abilities and pulled the fish
from the water while still standing on top of the rolling waves. While some of
the companions fished, others who had been lucky and caught those sparkling
blue Sailfins early, amused themselves by fighting a nearby bevy of pirates
(only to realize that even the smallest of paper cuts would remove the fragile
water walking spell cast upon them). After a short delay (it took some of the
fishermen slightly longer to devise the perfect lure for this picky fish), the
slightly saddle sore group was off for a long ride... the last leg of this
There and Back Again - The Thandol
air was crisp of that early spring mid morning. A strong sea breeze
buffeted through the straight that cuts the eastern kingdoms in half.
The sun was approaching noon as people started to stop on the high stone
bridge. Old familiar faces brightened as greetings and salutations were
tossed about, new faces appearing also. All waiting for the beginning
of another days adventuring. Druids and shamans danced in their animal
forms while waiting for the few last stragglers to show.
what was to be the first grand and noble task of this mighty group.
Perhaps they would take over a castle, over throw an evil warlord...
no.. they were asked by a partially sober dwarf to run moonshine to
Southshore. Run Moonshine? Thats childs play some were heard saying. So
with the flair that only a group like this can muster, it was decided
that everyone should swim the moonshine there. A race was conceived,
planned, and rules haggled over, and after a few false starts (ok.. lets
face it.. people fell off the bridge), the race was on.
tides and currents seemed in favor of the pack of twenty or so swimmers.
The water was clear, the sun was warm, and the Naga were out for blood.
One does not just go swimming through Naga territory and not be chased
by virtually every beast from below. And yet our intrepid wanderers made
it to Southshore without much damage. Well.. again... truth be told I
Lucky for Southshore the troop did not descend
upon the rolling hills like ants at a picnic. Residents stopped and
gazing and gawking at some of the strange races that assaulted their
banal eyes. Its not often a Nightelf, let alone a Dranaei, wander the
street in Southshore. We split off into groups, each heading off for
grand adventure. Some Of the groups stayed in Hillsbrad to slay yeti,
fight assasin, thiefs and general ne'er-do-wells, while many others set
off for the sundered land of Dustwallow Marsh.
quick flight to Menethil, and a long sea voyage later, it found our
wandering warriors at the port bastion of Theramore. Before stepping
even a few yards into the town, we were set to the task of helping the
lighthouse keeper fuel the fire that burns so bright. Thresher oil was
needed. Thankfully the threshers in the bay not only have lots of oil,
they keep it in handy containers, but will only give it to you upon
their untimely demise. Since all those of There and Back Again helped
the lighthouse keeper, she should have enough oil for years to come.
were then tasked with getting a book. Of course the book wasn't where it
was said to be, which lead us to the small island where the master
fisherman Pat Nagle resides. Now Pat, being the eccentric, hermit type,
was more than willing to give us the book... as long as we were willing
to check out his new shark bait. Looking back on it maybe it wasn't wise
to smear a foul smelling paste on ourselves and jump into shark
infested waters, but some how our group survived the testing of the bait
and Pat was more than happy to give us the book. Of course, we all
smelled like rotting fish heads for the rest of the day...
Mills accepted the book and asked us to help kill Tethyr. "Sure", we
thought. "we can take on anyone here in Theramore". The he explained he
had three mortars. Seemed like over kill... until we saw Tethyr. Head
the size of the stern of a ship, shoulders twice as wide. And on top of
that, his breath not only stinks to high heaven, but also is so cold
that it burns those unfortunate enough to come in contact with it. Our
team slew the giant beast so quickly that the locals not only sung out
names in praise, but they also lit off fireworks in celebration.
would seem to have a problem with agitators. Vile, despicable types
spreading false rumors about how things are. When asked to flush them
out, we had no problem getting them to show their true colors, and the
few that fought back were so disliked by the Theramore guard that the
guards didn't say a word as we clawed, slashed and burnt them to death.
"Swamp Eye" Jarl in the Marsh had a few odd requests while we
were there. First he wanted frog legs, the unpopped spider eyes. Then he
needed a knife that only a murloc seemed to carry. Marsh folk sure do
eat some odd things. Mordant Grimsby, a visitor of Swamplight Manor
implored us to seek out what evil was haunting the area. The risen husk
and spirts seemed to point to a great evil. We were told to gather a
special herb that when burnt, its smoke draws evil from its hiding
places. Wonder if it.... oh never mind.. the evil appeared in the form
of a great bat-like creature, which we of course killed instantly (well
after some of us screamed in terror). The evil purged, our work was
done. Pity we couldn't have helped with cleaning the furniture.
North Point Tower - Dustwallow
It was obvious that the Captain Vimes thought
highly of us (that or he wanted us killed) and sent us to investigate
the Shady Rest Inn. The inn had been burnt to the ground. It took us a
while but all evidence seemed to point to the Grimtotem tribe having
done this. Everyone knows you can't trust a tauren as far as you can
comfortably spit a live rat. Retribution would be ours, and not just
with the Grimtotem. We stole the Blackhoof tribes weapons, released
prisoners they had taken, and then set forth upon them packs of wild
raptors to terrorize their village. And when it came to the Grimtotem,
we exacted a revenge comparable to what they did to the Shady Rest Inn,
we burnt their village to the ground. Maybe now the number of flies in
Dustwallow will drop, having rid it of those mangy stinking horde.
Chasing down information about the Defias in the area lead us
to a string of islands just off the coast of Dustwallow. The soothing
tropical breeze and lots of sunshine was a welcome break for us all, yet
it was not to be a restful time basking on a sunny beach, no. A few of
us were able to rest briefly while others were searching for the diving
equipment we needed. Once we had the gear, it was down to the bottom of
the sea floor, salvaging the wreckage strewn along the islands. Some of
us seemed to find more murlocs hidden in the wreckage then the strong
boxes we were looking for. Turns out that the Defias were transporting a
prisoner, and Renn McGill had us rush back to Theramore to fill Lady
Jania Proudmore in on the Defias machinations.
Lady Jania Proudmore (tall, isn't
By this point the sun was setting, our armor
was battered needing repair, our bags were full beyond their breaking
point, and most were tired needing to recharge and rest after a full day