Sagefish a la Crème

Foggy grey eyes watched and waited, affixed to the colorful bobber that floated on the surface of Mirkfallon Lake. A mailed hand ran through a short mop of dirty blonde hair, whose owner sighed with mild frustration and disappointment.
"Not biting toady, huh?" the paladin muttered, jerking the line back into her hand. "Fine then, we'll play hard ball."
She pulled a few nightcrawlers from a hip pouch with a determined grimace plastered to her face and speared them onto the hook. The human then reared her hand back, aimed, and cast her line.

Heavy steps were muted by the grass, but the sound of blades rending flesh was impossible to miss for one versed in the ways of war. She twisted her upper half, surveying the scene; a tauren was being jumped by about half a dozen spiders.
As much as Leonora Cymande hated to admit it, her family seemed doomed to be Horde sympathizers. Her father and mother both worked as caretakers in the interment camps, her brother was almost killed helping an orcish war band just prior the the battle of Mount Hyjal, and her... well, she'd had her bacon saved more times than she'd care to count by orcs, tauren and trolls, and felt that it was right and proper to pay them back.
She ripped the bobber from the lake's surface, dropped the pole, swung her great hammer free, and charged.

Itinahua Helmsplitter was having a bad day.
First, his cat, Kibbles, got stuck on the roof of the auction house. Then some stupid troll just had to get his dress hat torn to pieces, not to mention his best pole and only decent blanket. Now here he was, trying to fend off a pack of bloodthirsty arachnids with nothing more than a battered claymore and the clothes on his back.
Someone gave a loud cry from somewhere to the right of him. The tauren turned, seeing a mail-clad human girl charging at the lot of them.
Just what I needed, he thought bitterly. At least I get to die with my lucky hat on.

Leonora rushed forward, calling forth a burst of holy Light on the ground to sear the creatures, and tugged on the bull-man's chest to try and get him to move. Nobody in their right minds would be trying to fight in plainclothes!
"Move, damnit!" she shouted, one of the few prases in Orcish she knew.
The tauren, astounded, complied and ran, letting the spiders focus on the far more heavily armored agitant. The human didn't wait to see just what they had planned, however, and took flight as well, following the tauren to the bank of the lake.

Ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuck
Itinahua ran for dear life, as fast as his cloven feet could carry him. The arachnids hissed behind them, the cacophony of syllibant noise being muted somewhat by the constant sound of chain mail shifting scant feet behind him.
He stopped at the edge of the lake, staring wide-eyed at the surface. Just how was he supposed to get out of this one now?!
The paladin stopped running, and grunted loudly. The next thing Itinahua knew, they both were tipping over the drop, straight into the lake itself.
What did I do to deserv-

Several minutes later, Leonora hauled a wet, dishevled, and frumpy tauren from the water, tossing out a line from her fishing rod to snag his runaway hat before one of the lake's packaged dinners... err, rabid horse-eating sagefish, yeah, that's it... got ahold of the thing and tried to eat it.
"Sorry about that," the paladin apologized, wringing the hat out with care and handing it back over.
"S'okay, I guess," the tauren rumbled back in Common. "Better than being eaten by those damn spiders."
The human laughed, holding her hands still for a moment before attempting to thread another worm onto the hook. "No arguments here!" she agreed, tossing the line into the water.

They sat in silence for a moment, both of them focusing on the bobber that hung on the reflective water. Leonora finally glanced to the tauren and saw the rapt attention on his face as if it were him holding the rod.
"You bring your own?" she asked.
"Hmm? Oh, yeah," the tauren replied, "I just think it's bad form to cast next to somebody who's already out."
The paladin's face broke into a sweet smile. "Guess this is serious business for you, huh? I really don't mind, big guy. In fact, I think I could use the help, actually."
Within seconds, another line was baited and cast.

After almost an hour and no bites, the paladin finally decided to break the silence. "Where'd you learn Common?" Her voice was subdued, a conscious effort not to spook any of the wildlife.
The tauren's response was just as quiet, though his voice still rumbled in the ground beneath them both. "The War. I was in a mixed unit, mostly orcs and humans. We picked Common because most of the greenskins knew more of it than the Humans knew of Orcish."
Leonora gave a silent "oh" of understanding before turning back to her line, thinking for a moment. "Any names stand out?"
A brief silence as the fisherman's face tilted in thought, a careful consideration before he spoke. "Let me see... Night elves, I did speak with a few." He made small marks in the dirt for each person as he recalled them. "Tanui Moonbloom, strange, childish one, she was, but skilled. Ralian Amaldor, quite gregarious for one of those reclusive folk, and a fine archer. We did have a dwarf, Beldan. A paladin, much like yourself."

"As for humans..." Itinahua sighed, a smirk playing on his face. "We got the crazy ones. Nichol Fenton, madman with a blade. I wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of him... no, no, not a loose cannon," he said, predicting the young woman's question, "but quite ruthless. Tough as nails, never flinched when he'd stare down demons, but..."
The tauren shuddered. Fenton was a level, calm man in any other situation. That's probably why he worried him.
"Sorry, got lost for a moment. Ah... there was Arrel Morlond, a mage, wonderful chef, too. I think she's part of the reason we didn't roll over and die from starvation. Sampre Fennink, a madcap little tinker that kept the guns and fortifications in top order. Weird kid, already had to have one of his arms replaced... blew it off trying to disarm a landmine. Then there was-"

The sentence was cut short as a fish finally tugged at the human's line, drawing her attention away from the tauren's war stories. With practiced ease, she tugged a few times, testing the hook, and hauled the fish to the bank.
"About damned time, too!" she sighed, an exasperated smile plastered on her features.
As soon as the words left her lips, Itinahua's line jerked as well. Both of the anglers looked at it, grinning.
"I love my hat," the tauren chuckled, pulling the unwitting fish to a swift and painful demise.