The red sun slipped beneath the ridgeline, and darkness slowly settled over the water. A thin sliver of moonlight appeared along the horizon, painting the surface of the lake in silver.
Bubbles rose from the pool.
A moment later, a fish-like head broke through the surface.
Though calling it a fish head wasn’t entirely accurate. Its face didn’t jut forward like that of an ordinary fish. It was flatter, almost human in proportion, with rounded lips that parted to reveal a row of sharp teeth. Two thin whiskers drifted beneath a pair of blowholes, which puffed out air with wet, bubbling sounds.
Its slightly protruding eyes were dull and glassy. A rigid fin stood upright on top of its skull like a rooster’s comb.
The rest of its body soon emerged from the water.
Bare-skinned and striped with faint blue patterns, the creature stood roughly 1.2 meters tall. Its abdomen was sunken and thin, while its long limbs moved with awkward coordination, clearly better suited to swimming than walking. Webbing stretched between its fingers and toes, and a long tail-fin ran down its spine, connecting seamlessly with the fin atop its head.
The Murloc straightened and shook the water from its body.
Then it glanced down at the vine basket tied around its waist.
Nine fish were packed inside, several of them still twitching.
A wide grin spread across its face.
"Nine! Fish!"
The words came out rough and strained, dragged from somewhere deep in its throat.
A few meters away, the water rippled again.
Another Murloc surfaced.
This one was noticeably larger, with a thicker body and sturdier limbs. When he climbed onto the shore, the basket around his waist came into view.
More than a dozen fish thrashed inside.
The first Murloc, Third Fish, froze.
His eyes slowly rolled toward the basket.
Then a crooked grin spread across his face.
He sauntered over and pointed at the other Murloc’s catch.
"Two. Fish..."
He stopped.
The words he needed refused to come.
After several seconds of frustrated thinking, he gave up and resorted to wild hand gestures.
The second Murloc stared blankly.
Third Fish exaggerated his movements.
The second Murloc blinked.
More gestures followed.
Finally, understanding dawned.
Fish Second looked down at his basket.
Then he puffed out his chest proudly.
"Third Fish. Fish... Nine!"
Third Fish’s grin widened.
Fish Second, unfortunately, hadn’t learned to count beyond ten yet. He had no idea that his own basket already contained several fish more than nine.
All he understood was that Third Fish’s catch sounded impressive.
So he bounced excitedly and waved his webbed hands, clearly expressing his admiration.
Riding high on the praise, Fish Second shifted his weight.
His foot landed on a loose stone.
He slipped.
Third Fish barely had time to react before Fish Second crashed into him, dragging them both to the ground.
Their baskets flew open.
Fish scattered everywhere.
"Fish! Fish! Fish!"
Fish Second’s eyes widened in horror.
He immediately scrambled after them.
Third Fish climbed back to his feet and, rather than helping, watched with exaggerated seriousness.
"One. Two. Three..."
He counted each fish as Fish Second gathered them.
When he reached nine, Third Fish suddenly grabbed his wrist.
"Nine!"
He pointed proudly at the pile.
"You! Nine fish!"
Fish Second stared at him.
Nine of the fish were already his.
Which meant the rest must belong to Third Fish.
That made sense.
Except...
Something didn’t feel right.
His basket had definitely looked fuller before the fall.
Had he imagined it?
Fish Second frowned.
Third Fish began scooping the remaining fish off the ground and dropping them into his own basket.
One after another.
Something inside Fish Second snapped.
There had been more fish in his basket.
He knew there had.
Numbers or no numbers, he shoved Third Fish aside and went back to collecting them himself.
Third Fish stumbled backward.
"Fish! Mine!"
He lunged to stop him.
Fish Second shoved back.
Neither had the strength to overpower the other completely, and soon the two were wrestling over the scattered fish while their baskets remained only half-filled.
Third Fish watched the pile on the ground shrink.
Then he looked at his basket.
Then back at the shrinking pile.
His expression slowly collapsed.
It was the face of a Murloc witnessing both his dignity and dinner disappear at the same time.
He stomped one webbed foot into the mud.
"Trying to steal a chicken and losing the rice instead! Ha! Serves you right, Third Fish! Bullying poor Fish Second just because he can’t count!"
Clear, mocking laughter rang out from the water’s edge.
Third Fish spun around.
A third figure surfaced.
She was noticeably smaller and slimmer than the two males, clearly younger. A respectable number of fish filled the basket around her waist, while a simple necklace of softened green vines hung around her neck.
At its center rested a single clam pearl, catching the last traces of moonlight.
Third Fish glared at her.
He didn’t understand what "stealing a chicken and losing the rice" meant.
But the tone was enough.
It definitely wasn’t praise.
She was also smarter than him.
She argued better.
She fought better.
And, worst of all, she always seemed to know exactly how to make him look stupid.
His frustration boiled over.
Third Fish marched toward the water, scooped up two handfuls of water, and hurled them at her.
She shrieked and stumbled backward, completely losing her composure.
"You’re bullying me again! I’m telling Fish Leader!"
The moment those words left her mouth, Third Fish froze.
His raised hands slowly lowered.
Water dripped from his fingers.
An awkward grin spread across his face.
He glanced toward the other two Murlocs.
Then at their full baskets.
Finally, he looked down at his own.
It was considerably lighter.
Third Fish sighed.
His shoulders slumped.
Without another word, he trudged after them.
They reached the tribe’s gathering place a short while later.
The settlement occupied a sheltered hollow beside a shallow cave, protected from the wind and spacious enough for the entire tribe to gather.
A bonfire crackled inside.
Orange flames danced across the cave walls, their light flickering over the blackened stone above.
Along the left wall were dozens of crude carvings.
Each depicted a different Murloc.
They were rough and exaggerated, some sporting absurdly tall head-fins, others with comically large eyes. One had a mouth permanently twisted to one side, apparently the result of an old fight.
Despite their crude appearance, every carving was distinctive enough to identify its owner immediately.
Beneath each one hung a length of green vine tied with knots.
The number of knots varied from Murloc to Murloc.
Third Fish quickly found his own carving.
The unusually tall fin gave it away.
He touched the carving affectionately, clearly pleased with himself, then tied several fresh knots into the vine beneath it.
One knot for each fish.
The surrounding Murlocs watched as he counted his catch.
Once he finished, he carried the fish over to a shallow pool carved into the cave floor and dumped them inside.
The fish scattered immediately, joining the nearly hundred others already swimming through the water.
Third Fish stared at them.
If only they were all mine.
The thought had barely formed when another image surfaced in his mind.
A cold face.
Sharp eyes.
A presence colder than anything the cave could produce.
A shiver ran through his entire body.
He quickly shook the memory away.
Then he headed toward the fire.
Around a dozen Murlocs had already gathered around it.
Fish roasted slowly over the flames, their skins turning crisp and golden as fat dripped into the fire with soft hisses.
Several tails wagged eagerly.
Fish Second’s was moving the fastest.
Third Fish rolled his eyes.
Then his gaze drifted toward the center of the gathering.
His expression changed instantly.
The amusement vanished.
His body stiffened.
Sitting at the center of the group was the one Murloc every member of the tribe instinctively respected.
The Fish Leader.