Magical candles along the bulkhead ignited as Dahl’renn entered the hold of his boat. Having fulfilled his contracts, it was relatively empty, save for a row of wooden barrels to his right. Each barrel was stamped with Pandaren crest and labelled with their contents. Sugar, salt, black pepper, dill, chili flakes, juniper berries.

“Just one thing missing,” he muttered to himself, walking to a simple wooden table in the center of the hold. Spread across the table were a variety of documents. One was an invitation to this year’s Bonfire Bash in Stranglethorn Vale, the second seemed to be some kind of short story, and the third (and largest) was a map of a familiar continent; Pandaria.

The map was covered in check marks, X’s, and dashed lines meant to convey routes of some sort. Dahl'renn studied the markings for a few minutes, taking a nearby quill and drawing another X on the parchment, his lips curling into a frown. It had been eight days since he began his hunt. Eight fruitless days of questioning the locals, following rumours, and ultimately coming up empty-handed. He glanced from the map to the short story beside it, reading a short passage. Time was running out for Dahl'renn. It was only a few short weeks until the Bash, and he would be showing up empty-handed if he wasn’t successful.

Dahl ascended topside, shielding his eyes from the bright Pandaren sun. It was definitely summertime here. The local fishing village where he was anchored was bustling with activity. Coastal fishers were peddling their catches to traders who would then journey inland to sell the newly-gotten wares.

“Dahl'renn!” called a familiar voice. “Permission to come aboard?”

Dahl whipped his head in the direction of the plank bridging his boat to the bamboo dock, a smile immediately spreading across his face.

“Bry Lang! Of course, of course. You’re always welcome here!” Dahl waved him over, noting a certain bounce in the Pandaren’s step. Bry was one of the first Dahl had approached on his hunt. Initial efforts had proved fruitless, but Dahl was certain Bry would become an asset. After all, the famous Fish-Fetcher of Sri-La Village could hardly refuse prospect of the most significant catch in recent Pandaren history.

“What brings you to all the way down here, friend? Has new information reached you regarding my mark?”

Bry nodded at Dahl'renn, offering him a toothy grin. “Yes, yes! My contacts at Angler’s Wharf mentioned that they had seen signs of the -” Bry Lang whispered into Dahl'renn’s ear, giving a wary look to a group of Pandaren looking at the two of them. “- off the western coast! They plan to make their move soon, but I believe we can get ahead of them if we leave with haste.”

Dahl'renn nodded, listening intently to Bry’s words. “Mmm. I should’ve figured Nat would want to be in on the catch. Lucky for us they’re still down in Krasarang. We have the advantage of a head start. Come Bry! We’ve not a moment to lose!”

The next few minutes went by in a blur as Dahl'renn loaded Bry’s cart with fishing poles, spears, nets, and a variety of types of bait, ranging from dried worms, fresh worms, bread, cheese, berries, mushrooms, and just about any other small morsel you could imagine. Before long the two took off towards a fishing boat Dahl had rented from a local family. After about two hours of travel up the coast, they had made it to the rented boat. It was significantly smaller than Dahl'renn’s, with a smaller sail, but it would be faster and easier to manage.

Dahl could hardly pay attention as they loaded the boat. His eyes were out to the sea, continuously look for their mark, and their competition. With all their equipment loaded, they set out towards the sea. They were in luck. The wind was on their side as they gained momentum, and Dahl and Bry were setting a brisk pace now. Waves crashed against the bow of the boat, spraying seawater into their faces. Another hour had passed before Dahl raised the sail, slowing the vessel. They had reached their destination. The two set to work tossing the bait into the sea. Once they had finished, all that was left to do was sit back and wait. Dahl took a fishing pole, tying an unusually large hook to the line, then affixing a chunk of bread to the hook. With a mighty swing, he cast the line out into the water, watching where the lure landed for any sign of movement.

A minute passed. Then another. And another. Dahl sighed in frustration at the lack of progress. He certainly wasn’t the most patient elf in Azeroth, that was for sure. Cheering in the distance snapped him away from his thoughts. “Oh no,” he whispered in dread. Nat Pagle had arrived on a slightly larger fishing boat; several Anglers were with him. “They arrived sooner than expected,” Bry chimed. They were still a bit of distance off, but plenty close to land the catch of a lifetime. Nat and his crew operated with a precision that only came with decades of fishing experience. Their bait was better, their fishing rods were stronger. It was all but the end of the line for Dahl'renn. Nat’s arrival pretty much guaranteed that Dahl would be attending the Bonfire Bash without a  dish to contribute. Dahl slumped, setting his fishing rod down on the deck. All this effort, for nothing.

Suddenly, Dahl heard a clattering beside him. The fishing rod had begun to move! Lightning-quick, he snatched the handle before it was yanked out of the boat. He was nearly carried over with force of whatever had gotten hooked. Dahl braced himself against the railing, struggling not to let go of the fishing rod. “Bry! Get over here!” The Pandaren rushed over, grasping the rod as well. With a hefty tug, the two pulled back. The dorsal fin of their prey breached the water. Dahl’s eyes went wide. It matched the descriptions he had been given. This was it! He could hear shouting from Nat Pagle’s boat. The Anglers had gathered in a crowd and were pointing and hollering in Dahl’s and Bry’s direction. Now was their chance!

“Come on, Bry! Put some elbow grease into it!” Dahl shouted, straining against the force of this creature.

“I’m giving it all I’ve got, Captain!” Bry bellowed back.

Dahl'renn grunted and groaned, reeling in with all his might. He could feel their catch coming closer and closer! With one final roar, the pair hoisted the fishing rod back as far as they could. It groaned and creaked under the tension. Then it gave. A colossal fish soared through the air, then came crashing down onto the deck of their fishing boat, flopping around violently. Dahl reached for a spear beside him, thrusting into the fish until it laid still. Exhausted, Dahl'renn leaned against the mast. The Anglers were now sailing away, Dahl could just make out Nat Pagle giving him a respectful salute.

Bry inspected their catch, attempting to lift the fish off the deck. “Dahl'renn… I think this weighs at least one-hundred-and-fifty pounds! The largest Emperor Salmon ever caught!”

Dahl'renn looked over wearily, still out of breath. “Is … that … so?” He struggled to his feet, patting Bry on the shoulder. “I couldn’t have done it without you. Come on, let’s get this thing prepared.”

The two sailed back to the fishing village where a small crowd was waiting for them. News had spread from the Anglers of their prize catch. An official weighing was held. One-hundred-and-sixty-three pounds; a new record. Dahl had his prize brought to the hold of his boat where he would get to work. But first, sleep.