It started with a pond in Stormwind.
Mei Lin had been fishing there all morning, line in the canal, feet dangling off the bridge, watching the bobber drift between reflections of the cathedral. She'd fished in every pond, stream, and puddle she could find across two continents. Pandaria. Northrend. The hot springs of Un'Goro. She'd pulled fish from water that glowed, water that burned, and water that tried to pull her in.
But she'd never fished in the Horde capital.
The thought arrived the way most of her bad ideas did. Quietly. Innocently. Like it had always been there and was just waiting for her to notice.
"I want to fish in Orgrimmar," she said to Callisaw, who had been sitting beside her eating noodles.
He looked up. Chewed. Swallowed. "The Horde capital."
"Yes."
"The one full of orcs."
"That's the one."
"With the guards. And the axes. And the deeply held belief that Alliance members make good target practice."
"But they have a pond, Callisaw. They have a pond."
He put down his noodles. Considered it. "When do we leave?"
That was the thing about Callisaw. He never asked why. He just asked when.
Mei Lin pulled a small glass vial from her pack on the bridge of Stormwind. Amber liquid, corked tight, a little knot of sand swirling at the bottom. A travelling alchemist had pressed it into her hands two seasons ago in exchange for a healing. For a very bad day, he'd said. She'd been saving it. She uncorked it and drank. The change rolled through her fast, bones to stone, fur to golden scale, a sandstone drake rising from the cobblestones where a Pandaren had been sitting. Callisaw climbed on without hesitation, settling between the ridges like he'd done this before. He hadn't. He was just that trusting.
They came in low over Durotar. Over the red dust and the iron spikes and the war drums that never seemed to stop. Orgrimmar smelled like forge smoke and animal hide and very strong opinions about territorial boundaries. Mei Lin had never been inside a Horde city before. She'd imagined it would feel hostile. Instead it felt... busy. Like a city that had too much to do and not enough time to care about two Pandaren with fishing poles.
"Walk like you belong," Callisaw whispered.
"I'm a Pandaren. We belong everywhere. It's our whole thing."
"Then walk like that. But faster."
They found the pond. A small thing, tucked between buildings, green and still and completely indifferent to the fact that two Alliance members were about to dip their lines in it. Mei Lin planted herself on the bank, pulled out her fishing pole, and cast.
The bobber landed with a soft plop.
"This is insane," she whispered.
"Absolutely," Callisaw said, casting beside her. "Isn't it great?"
They fished. In the middle of Orgrimmar. Two Pandaren sitting on a bank like they owned the place, pulling fish out of a Horde pond while guards walked past twenty feet away. Mei Lin's heart was hammering so hard she was sure the fish could hear it.
"What do we do if someone notices?" she asked.
"Smile. Wave. Offer them a fish."
"And if that doesn't work?"
"Run."
A guard walked past. Paused. Looked at them. Looked at the fishing poles. Looked at the pond.
Kept walking.
"See?" Callisaw said. "Nobody expects the fishing."
They caught three more. Four. Five. Mei Lin was just starting to think they might actually get away with this when a second guard stopped. This one didn't keep walking. This one squinted. Then his eyes went wide.
Then the horn sounded.
Not a small horn. Not a "someone left the gate open" horn. A deep, bone-rattling war horn that echoed off every building and made the pond water ripple.
"That's the alarm," Callisaw said, already on his feet.
"For us?"
"For us."
Guards were turning. Heads were swivelling. Somewhere behind them, an orc was shouting in Orcish and Mei Lin didn't need to speak the language to understand the general sentiment.
Callisaw grabbed her arm and pointed at a doorway carved into the rock face. Dark. Glowing faintly orange from somewhere deep inside.
"In there. Now."
"That's a cave."
"It's a hiding spot."
"It's a cave under a Horde city."
"It's a hiding spot they won't expect us to use."
They dove in.
Ragefire Chasm. Hot and glowing and full of things that absolutely did not appreciate visitors. The air tasted like sulphur and regret. But it was dark, and the guards hadn't followed them in, and for now that was enough.
They pressed against a wall. Listening. Footsteps above. Shouting. More horns. The entire city looking for two Pandaren with fishing poles.
"Well," Mei Lin whispered. "We're in a cave."
"We're safe in a cave."
"We're trapped in a cave."
"Perspective, Mist. It's all perspective."
They waited. The shouting faded. The footsteps moved away. Callisaw was already poking around before the last voice had faded. A protector's curiosity, always wanting to know what was under his feet. He poked around corners, peered into side tunnels, and came back with a grin and a handful of coins he'd found in a forgotten chest.
"Treasure," he said, holding it up like a child showing a parent a rock.
"We broke into a Horde city, got spotted, fled underground, and you're looting?"
"Waste not."
Mei Lin laughed. Couldn't help it. Two Pandaren huddled in a cave under Orgrimmar, one with fishing trophies stuffed in her bag, the other counting stolen coins. Grandmother would never let her hear the end of this.
They couldn't hide forever.
The cave opened back into the street and the street was waiting for them. Not the whole army. Just enough. An orc patrol. A troll with a bow. And a tauren who looked personally offended by their existence.
Mei Lin looked at the welcoming committee. An orc with an axe bigger than she was. A troll with a bow and an expression that suggested he'd already picked which eye to aim for. And a tauren. Big. Very big. The kind of big that made her feel like an appetizer.
She should have stayed quiet.
"Nice axe!" she shouted at the orc instead, because her mouth had never once in her life consulted her brain before speaking. "Is it big because you're compensating for something, or do all green people overdo it?"
The orc's eye twitched.
Callisaw grabbed her arm. "We should go."
"Hang on." She turned to the troll. "And you, with the tusks. Honest question. Do you ever poke yourself brushing your teeth? Because I've been wondering about that since I got here and nobody will give me a straight answer."
The troll nocked an arrow. Slowly. Personally.
"Mei Lin," Callisaw said, his voice very calm and very urgent.
She turned to the tauren. The big one. The really big one. Her brain was screaming. Her mouth was already open.
"And you. Honestly. What's your beef with us? We were just fishing. No need to steer up trouble over a couple of Pandaren with poles."
The tauren's nostrils flared. His hooves cracked the stone.
"We'll just moooove along," she added, and the word wasn't even fully out of her mouth before she realized she had made a terrible, terrible mistake.
The tauren lowered his horns.
The orc raised his axe.
The troll drew his bow.
Callisaw sighed. "Worth it?"
Mei Lin looked at the three very angry Horde members who were about to turn her into a cautionary tale about diplomacy.
"Ask me again when we're alive."
"RUN."
Mei Lin shifted into ghost wolf and bolted. Paws on red dust, the spirit form turning her into a streak of blue-white light that tore through the streets. Behind her, Callisaw rolled, literally rolled, a Windwalker's momentum carrying him past the patrol before they could swing. He bounced off a wall, tucked, came up running, barefoot and laughing.
The fishing pole was still strapped to her back. Flapping like a banner behind a very fast, very panicked spirit wolf.
An arrow hit the ground where she'd been half a second ago.
"FASTER," Callisaw shouted, which was unhelpful because her legs were already a blur and the ground was disappearing beneath her.
They cleared the gate. Kept running. Didn't stop until the red dust turned to dry grass and Orgrimmar was a silhouette against the horizon.
Mei Lin shifted back and collapsed on the grass, breathing so hard her totems were vibrating in sympathy.
Callisaw dropped beside her. Flat on his back. Still barefoot. Still grinning. Still holding the treasure.
"Worth it."
They lay there for a while, catching their breath, watching the clouds drift over Durotar.
"You know," Mei Lin said, "when people ask about my diplomatic credentials, I'm going to tell them I fished in the Horde capital, hid in a cave, stole their treasure, made a beef joke at a tauren, and lived."
"That's more diplomacy than most diplomats manage."
"I also got shot at."
"That's just cultural exchange."
Mei Lin wrote grandmother about this one. She's still not over it.
— Mist
