“The myriad gnoll packs, united under the cruel leadership of Packlord Garfang, launched an invasion of the fledgling Kingdom of Stormwind in 75 BD. More a series of raids than a full-scale war, Garfang would take advantage of his numerical advantage and tie down the knights of Stormwind city with grinding assaults while the rest of his force ravaged the undefended villages and towns scattered across the countryside. Over the course of the war, a full third of all settlements within Stormwind lands were sacked, with refugees flooding into the already beleaguered capital.

Faced with a seemingly unstoppable enemy, a looming famine, and no allies willing to lend their assistance, King Barathen Wrynn decided on a bold, and risky, plan. The gnolls had only become a threat once Packlord Garfang had taken control. Perhaps if he were removed, the packs would fall back into their usual state of anarchy.

So it was that under cover of night, the king slipped out of the city, accompanied by his most loyal knights. Once that day's assault on Stormwind had commenced, they rode with all haste to Redridge Mountain, where the Packlord’s camp was known to be. They found it empty, save for the Packlord himself and his personal guard, with every other able-bodied gnoll sent to pillage and burn.

The fighting lasted for a day and a night but with one final, mighty swing King Barathen Wrynn ended the gnoll threat forevermore. Once word had spread of Garfang’s death, cohesion within his army fractured as various self-proclaimed packlords attempted to claim leadership. This infighting gave Barathen time to raise and organize a force that shattered the weakened gnolls, ending the Gnoll War and earning Stormwind almost 5 decades of peace and prosperity.

Then the Gurubashi attacked.”

– Galu Fuzzfizzle, The History of Stormwind: From Arathi to Alliance

~

You know, all things considered, thought Brgllrm as she stood in a circle with the rest of the village and one very confused human, surrounding a small, freshly carved wooden totem, this could have gone much worse.

After we had cracked the ice with that whole Omens of the Deep Mother ritual, Nat, Glrmgrlr, and I had spent a couple of hours fumbling through trying to establish a basic lexicon or at least a bank of gestures we all easily understand. Well, I say Glrmgrlr was there, but he mostly either sat polishing his spear or was occupied with his responsibilities in the village.

I never really asked what he was doing, and in hindsight that might have been a good idea, because as I was just getting Nat to figure out how to mime Murloc swimming, Glrmgrlr burst through the door and gestured for both of us to come down the ladder with him, a giant smile plastered across his face. Honestly, it was just kind of cool to see him look genuinely excited, cool, and a little creepy. So I helped Nat climb down the ladder and we came face to face with a luckily non-angry mob of Murlocs. They had gotten unusually excited about the pearl from Nat’s shell, something about an old prophecy from before we came to the surface. Or maybe a folk story, it is kind of hard to tell sometimes when my breadth of Murloc history comes solely from verbal sources, what with some of the stories being dumbed down a bit for their admittedly young audience.

But once Glrmgrlr had told them about the pearl, a few of the elders had gotten together and declared Nat as a chosen sent by the Deep Mother. One of the elders had remembered a story from his elder, who had heard it from their dying aunt, who had been told it by a captured hunter, who… You get the idea. Basically, there was this fish lady that came to a Murloc village and gave them this perfect, beautiful pearl, and told them whoever carried it will be a hero to the tribe. They all started stabbing each other for it though, and it got swept away on a current, eventually being deposited in a clam shell. So because Nat got a pretty pearl, the village thinks he’s some kind of hero and threw him a big feast. I think. They may have just wanted an excuse to party and blow off some of the steam that’s been building up after those gnoll attacks.

So there we were, eating and having a grand ol’ time, when one of the carvers came up and started whittling a little statuette of Nat, except with a bit more panache and a little less of a drunken stupor. Nat has a little flask he keeps on his person ‘for special occasions,’ and halfway through the feast he decided this was special enough. So when the carver came up and asked him to model, they had to do a bit of work to smooth out the curves. I would have included the clam stuck to his hair, but that’s just me.

They finished up the carving and got him to slot the pearl into a nook they had made. It did look pretty cool, and with how the sun reflected off it, I could swear the pearl was glowing. Then the elders spent a good few hours telling stories while we ate. Turns out they were holding back for us tadpoles, there is some really exciting stuff in Murloc history. Like fighting giant sea creatures that ate a god. Granted for Murlocs god just means whatever is the biggest fish around, literally. The scariest, strongest marine animal in the general vicinity of a Murloc tribe becomes their god, often by eating their previous one. In fact, that story was about a Murloc who was trying to become a god. Didn’t work, as it turns out a megalodon is pretty hard to kill with a spear. But at the end of the meal, they told the story about the pearl and proclaimed Nat had been sent to help us against the gnolls.

So they placed the statuette on an empty part of the beach and got the village to surround it, then started doing some chanting. With Mrgglr gone, one of the elders stood in for him and held a big ceremony to thank the Deep Mother. It was pleasant enough, although I was a bit distracted trying to keep Nat from doing something stupid as he was, understandably, not the most well-versed in Murloc traditions and kept trying to copy things others were doing. Unfortunately, he was also slightly drunk, so his attempts mostly resulted in some variation of jazz hands.

After the ceremony, most of the village relaxed instead of returning to their usual jobs, as the elders had urged everyone to take the day off. Only a few hunters still stood guard, watching to make sure no gnolls or errant animals ruined the jubilant atmosphere. It was good to see people being happy instead of terrified, and Nat seemed to get into it. I think I even saw him sharing the contents of his flask with a few of the elders, little bits at a time.

Unfortunately with the working day cut short and the sizable feast we had, the village would be facing a shortage of food in the coming day. It wasn’t so bad that we would be starving, but having to dedicate more time and people to procuring food wasn’t helpful if we needed to fend off a gnoll attack. We would have to work extra hard tomorrow to make up for the depleted food stores we dipped into for today, but as I looked around at the smiling tadpoles, the couples hugging lovingly, and the elders laughing at old jokes, all that future hardship seems worth it.

I think things are starting to look up fo- “Nat! No, don’t poke Cass!”

~

It was with a heavy sigh that Mrgglr greeted the rising sun. It had become a habit to wake up while the sky was still dark, one he had picked up back in his crab-herding days. Sea Crawlers were an ornery bunch, and his morning chores had been much easier without the threat of a rogue claw snipping at his limbs. It had served him well in the past, with one of his favorite stories being the time he found half of the pen tethers had been snapped by a passing pod of whales. If he had slept in, the currents might have broken or dislodged the rest of the tethers, and an entire generation of Sea Crawlers would have been lost, scattered to the currents.

But once he dedicated his life to leading his people, a new morning ritual was developed. He would meditate, pondering the coming days. In what little alone time there was, Mrgglr composed a list within his mind. Tasks that needed doing, people he should talk to, and things that necessitated preparation from the entire village. It was hard at first, sitting still and just thinking, but as the years passed his aptitude for meditation grew. He had even started picking up on slight shifts in the weather, and could always tell when a major storm was about to appear. Knowing if a torrent was coming in helped tremendously when you were trying to determine if the tadpoles should be given swimming lessons that day.

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Today, that list stretched almost beyond the limits of what Mrgglr could track. There were chieftains to consult, villagers to console, supplies to prepare, and equipment to repair. He had to fix any lingering disputes at the village before the assault, lest he returns to a divided community.

There was that weirdness surrounding the Blueteeth tribe, he would have to inquire about that with some of the other chieftains.

Brgllrm’s lessons would either have to be cut short or rushed beyond belief. Even if it was unsavory, Mrgglr was leaning towards the latter. If there was going to be a fight, more healers, even poorly trained ones, meant more Murlocs heading home with their heads held high, not

On top of it all, he had to decide what to do with the Sea Crawler eggs that were currently nestled safely within his pouch. Mrgglr didn’t know if he still possessed the skill to raise them, or if they would even hatch. But the Deep Mother had seen it fit to bless him with an entire clutch, so it was his duty to make the most of them. Placing a hand over the black mass, he let a small trickle of energy escape, suffusing the area in a gentle green glow. It wouldn’t guarantee they hatched, but it would help them develop.

Even though he wanted to start ticking off tasks immediately, the first step to completing the list was journeying back to the village. So after letting loose another deep sigh, Mrgglr rose and returned to his hut, gathering up his personal belongings. The rhythm of life was beginning to come from the small hut town as younger Murlocs rushed to and from the lighthouse and each hut, delivering messages and meals as the chieftains and shamans made similar travel preparations.

Catching Glrrm still sleeping, Mrgglr delivered a swift kick to the chieftain’s side. It wasn’t enough to really hurt, but the impact awoke Glrrm with a jolt. As the startled Murloc turned towards Mrgglr, the old oracle had taken a great interest in the carvings that spiraled along his staff.

Glrrm sat upright and let out a small chuckle. “I honestly can’t tell if you think that’s convincing or not.”

Mrgglr responded in a curious tone, attention still firmly placed on his worn staff. “Whatever do you mean?”

Shaking his head, Glrrm got onto his feet and started packing as well. “What do you think about the plan?”

The answer can after a short pause, with Mrgglr stared absentmindedly at the floor. “It’s not the worst idea in the world. I feel like it leaves the villages a bit too exposed, but we’re only taking the best of the best with us. There will be plenty of adults to fend off any bedraggled bands of gnolls that manage to make it out of their base before we destroy it.”

“You know, I can’t remember the last time a grand chief led a force taken from all the villages. It must have been before we settled on the Longshore.”

“Yes, I believe it hasn’t been done since the Makura wars. There were just no threats that required a military response. The lack of dangerous enemies was half of the reason why we chose the Longshore as our new home.”

“What was the other half?”

There was a slight pause, followed by a sigh as Mrgglr said, “The Grand Chief at the time liked how the rocks on the beach looked. Aesthetically, not functionally.”

Glrrm shook his head while letting loose a small chuckle. “The Deep Mother works in mysterious ways.”

A sharp laugh came from Mrgglr’s hunched form. “Oh, that wasn’t the Deep Mother. That man was certified crazy. He was cursed by a naga sea witch and ended up killing his whole village in some kind of ritual. Served a poisoned drink at a feast, and by the time people realized something was wrong, half the village was already dead.”

“How did I not know this?”

“Well, it’s a story we don’t like to spread around. Scares the tadpoles a bit too much, you know. It’s mostly only relevant to Oracles who want to study how the naga operate. They’re very hands-off. Those scaly bastards are more likely to hypnotize you than send an ice spike through your head, though they are quite adept at both.”

After an uncomfortable silence, Glrrm tilted his head a bit. “Wait, I thought Old Murk-Eye was a direct descendant of the first grand chief?”

“There were a few tadpoles that hadn’t been old enough to eat anything at the feast, so they survived. At least, they survived the poison. I don’t know how many managed to last three nights without adults around.” Mrgglr stretched as Glrrm exited the tent, the Chieftain’s pack slung across his chest.

“Speaking of the absence of adult supervision, I’m not entirely sure the village is going to be standing once we get back. That apprentice of yours seems like the reckless type. If she really pushed for something, I don’t know if they could stop her.”

Mrgglr followed after Glrrm, a toothy smile breaking out across his face. “Don’t worry, don’t worry. I’m sure nothing happened back in the village. Brgllrm is probably bored out of her mind.”

~

“Come on Cass, spit him out! Nat wouldn’t even taste good anyways!”

~

Glrrm took a deep breath, steadying his footing. “You’re right, I shouldn’t worry. We left her in charge for a reason.”

“That we did,” Mrgglr nodded sagely as he crossed the hut, opening the entrance. “That we did.”

~

“Hey Glrmgrlr, help me get Nat out of Cass’s… HOW IS EVERYONE DRUNK ALREADY!”

~

As they exited the camp, Mrgglr leading a still stumbling Glrrm, both chieftain and Oracle were stopped by a Murloc who had one of Old Murk-Eye’s distinctive teeth hanging from his belt, a fang that was long and jagged like a shark’s.

I don’t know where he gets the time to carve those things, thought Mrgglr, especially when they’re still in his mouth.

Looking at the Murloc standing in front of them was like seeing Old Murk-Eye’s reflection in a frozen lake. The boy couldn’t be older than 10, but already his figure contained a hint of muscle. He was also tall, standing at more than half of Mrgglr’s height. Granted, the old Oracle had never been a particularly good example of physical strength, and age had made sure of that fact, but he was still around the average height for adult Murlocs.

The boy seemed bored, as he stepped forward with a bundle wrapped in cloth slung under his arm. “Are you Mrgglr?”

After receiving a nod, he handed the package to Mrgglr. “Old Murk-Eye wanted to thank you for helping with the Sea Crawler last night.”

Whatever was wrapped up inside the cloth was heavy, as the old oracle had to strain to not drop the whole bundle. “Well, that was very kind of him. Tell him I am grateful. It was… nostalgic.”

The boy nodded and turned around, heading towards the pier, where there was a small gathering of Murlocs who all appeared to be doing something enclosed within a circle of bodies. It must have been terribly exciting, as every couple minutes a chorus of cheers or boos were spawned from the huddle.

After about half a minute Mrgglr’s arms started shaking from the exertion, and as he laid the package on the dirt Glrrm seemed to take a keen interest in the apparent gift. “What’d Old Murk-Eye give you?”

Unwrapping the item was easy, but identification was not. “I… don’t know. Some kind of idol.” Resting within the cradle of cloth was a small statuette made of bright, red coral carved into the shape of a large octopus. Grasped within its tentacles were two Sea Crawlers, and two black pearls served as eyes.

Glrrm leaned down, snatching up the statue to get a closer look. “Wow, that must have been hard to find. I haven’t seen anyone carve in coral for years, thought everyone who knew how died before the move, back in the ocean.”

Mrgglr considered that, reaching over and lifting the figure. “I don’t think it’s actually coral. Much too heavy. Probably just some material made to look like coral.”

“That’s still something. It would be nice to have coral decorations again, even if they aren’t real.”

“I agree, it is just an annoyance for me to lug the thing back home. I cannot refuse it though, the old musclehead might think that an insult.” Mrgglr placed the statue back in the cloth and wrapped it up again, emptying a pouch of colorful rocks he collected that morning. They were gifts he was planning on bringing home to the tadpoles of the village, but he could always find more later. Besides, the statue was bulky. He needed the space if he didn’t want to further hamper his movement by carrying it in his arms.

Pulling his staff out of the small hole in the sand he had lodged it into, Mrgglr turned his head towards Glrrm. “Now, I believe we are ready to leave. Was there anything we missed?”

After double-checking their packs, the oracle and chieftain set off, diving into the water and swimming back home. It was at a faster pace than when they first left for the council, although still relatively leisurely to conserve energy. They had to return home quickly and get the affairs of the village in order.

There was going to be a fight, and by the Deep Mother, they were going to win it.