ull cries echoed off the cliffs surrounding Booty Bay as the sun dipped toward the horizon. Baron Revilgaz leaned against the wall of the inn, sifting through the latest reports from the marketplace. The news was troubling; with the recent wars in Alterac Valley and Warsong Gulch, far from the shores of Stranglethorn, business had been struggling of late. The goblin frowned. It would be difficult to draw visitors back to his colorful port without a gimmick of some kind; the old wounds between Alliance and Horde still ran deep in the adventurers of the day.
The light in the room disappeared suddenly. Revilgaz turned to find the large, grizzled Fleet Master in the doorway. "There's some nutty goblin rowing into the harbor," Seahorn rumbled. "He's shouting your name over and over. Sounds like a damn parrot."
Curious, the Baron walked out onto the balcony, his eyes seeking this mysterious visitor. The search was short; he quickly sighted the simple rowboat tied at the dock, as well as the bruisers escorting the owner. From this height, it was impossible to confirm the identity of the individual, but at the least it would prove a distraction from the trials of administration.
The escort reached his balcony at last and pushed the guest forward. Revilgaz arched a brow at the thin goblin before him, trying hard to maintain his smile as his nostrils were assailed by the stench of fish. "It's Riggle Bassbait, isn't it?" he said, determined to get through this meeting as quickly as possible. "What can I do for you?"
Riggle's face split into a hopeful smile. "You remember me! Please, Baron Revilgaz, I've just made the most amazing discovery. It's sure to breathe life back into the fishing industry, you mark my words! There's just one problem. . ." The fisherman rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "I don't have the gold I'd need to properly fund such an operation. I don't suppose you could give me a loan. . .?"
Revilgaz's smile vanished instantly, all pretense of friendliness gone. "I already extended you credit once, Bassbait. I can't afford to be handing out favors; particularly not now. Sorry I can't be of more help." He gestured dismissively to the bruisers, who took hold of Riggle's wrists.
"Wait!" the angler cried, fighting as the bruisers pulled him away. "I brought a sample of what I've found. Please, let me prepare it for you!"
A sigh escaped the Baron's lips. "Oh, all right. I hope you're not wasting my time."
Revilgaz stood and patted the fisherman's shoulder. "I have a better idea, one that will serve us both. I'll have my economy bustling again, and you will have your name on the lips of every angler in Azeroth. Come, let's discuss the terms." With that, he led the curious Riggle into his office. . .
"You see?" Revilgaz said with a grin. "Everyone's here for your new tournament. They'll catch the fish you seed along the coast, and everyone profits." He clapped the angler on the back. "Go seed the waters; they're anxious to begin. Oh - and make sure to keep the water around Booty Bay itself clear; I'd rather the participants have to hike a bit. They'll be thirstier when they get here; all the better for business."
Early in the day, friendly neighborhood goblins will visit Ironforge and Orgrimmar to inform aspiring anglers of the grand tournament and give instructions.
At the appropriate time, the shout will ring out across Stranglethorn to bait your hooks and cast your lines!