Call me Ishmael. Wait.. wrong story.
This story is about outsmarting the elusive Old Crafty. Let me explain...
Rustkill is a young gnome rogue. He spends a good part of his days training in the ways of the rogue and doing his best to protect the innocent. Among his guild he is respected as a vicious executioner of the self-proclaimed 'bosses' that loom over Azeroth and the Outlands. There are few adversaries that have thwarted him for very long, and he prides himself on being quick of mind as well as quick of weapon.
Rustkill is also an avid fisherman. On the days he is not assaulting the dungeons of evil maniacs he loves nothing more than to spend his time fishing. Comfortable in his favourite fishing outfit, and protected from the sun by his favourite hat, Rustkill loves the sound of water lapping and fishing bobbers splashing. Fishing has taken Rustkill many places and provided much relaxation (not to mention a little coin). Over the last few months though, his pass-time has led him to the brink of insanity.
Some time ago, word came to Rustkill about two elusive fish. Old Ironjaw of Ironforge and Old Crafty of Orgrimmar. In hushed tones, spoken by fisherman in inns and taverns around the world Rustkill learnt of these fish and became excited. Catching fish like these was just the kind of challenge he enjoyed!
Old Ironjaw proved to be somewaht less than elusive. After only a few afternoons fishing near the place he first learnt the craft, Rustkill fished up Old Ironjaw from the water and smiled with delight. With his prize safely swimming in his bank's safe deposit aquarium Rustkill set his sights toward Kalimdor. Old Crafty would soon be Rustkill's... Or would he?
Day passed. Then weeks. As weeks turned into months Rustkill was sure than he could see the rocks wearing away at his home away from home. Indeed, as he snuck into Orgrimmar and took his place under the waterfall his short Gnomish legs slid comfortably into place on his usual rock. He slipped some bait onto the hook and cast. And cast. And cast. Day turned to night as it had so many times. The roar of the waterfall and the splash of fish became the soundtrack to Rustkill's life. Occasionally a horde fisherman would discover him and make strange gestures towards him. Whether they were encouraging him or simply pitying him was unclear. Sometime a hunter would take offence to the young rogue sitting so near to their trainers and would accost him. Many times he was forced to part from his body for a time - forced to travel across the countryside before being reborn to the waterfall and the crafty fish somewhere below the surface of the water.
But then Rustkill heard word spreading between the fishermen at the taverns. Of course, Rustkill knew of the baby crocolisks that have been appearing in the cities. He himself had helped Old Man Barlow by catching the young critters in Stormwind. But the tales he heard in the inn were something altogether more interesting. It seemed the perhaps Old Crafty had a weakness after all!
Rustkill began to formulate a plan. His nemesis had eluded him for longer than he cared to think about. It seems like nothing Rustkill tried could draw the devil-fish from it's underwater hideout. The rumours pulled at Rustkill until he became resolute. Only a few days pass before Barlow told Rustkill that once again, children had lost baby crocs in the cities. Rustkill grinned devilishly and packed his rod and line. He was about to head to Orgrimmar, the home of his adversary when he ran into one of his friends. His quest for the crafty fish of Kalimdor would have to wait. It seemed the Headless Horseman had reared his ugly... hmm... well he was causing trouble.
We join Rustkill as he battles the horseman...
Rustkill and his friends strike down the headless horseman again and again. The horseman is fierce, Rustkill supposes, but as the headless rider rages against Rustkill and his friends the gnome can hardly concentrate. All he can think about is Old Crafty. Luckily, soon enough the threat of the horseman is contained for another day. And even more fortunately, thinks Rustkill, there is a zepplin tower that leads straight the front door of the slimy fish who taunts him so. With a laugh, Rustkill rides to the tower, slips through the grasps of the horde guards and leaps onto the Zepplin. Soon enough he is outside Orgrimmar. He grits his teeth and heads inside.
Splash splash splash. Rustkill arrives, rod in hand, determined to finally catch his foe. Sure enough, he can see the blurred shapes of crocolisks swimming in the distance. He feeds some bait onto his hook and casts. As expected a crocolisk rushes up greedily. As bad as he feels, Rustkill releases the little menace back into the water. He casts again... The waters teem as fish take flight from the crocs and again Rustkill pulls one of the six-legged beasts up. "Perhaps Old Carfty is braver than I thought", thinks Rustkill. But he tries again. Two more times the crocs take hold of Rustkill's hook. But Crafty is nowhere to be seen. Suddenly though, Rustkill sees an unusual shape dart out from the rocks near a crocolisk, just at the edge of his peripheral vision. Could it be?!
Rustkill flicks his wrists, sending the line out over the water. Ploink! His cast is a good one! (It has better be after all this practise!) The dark, sinister shape circles the water under the bobber, moving closer, then away, then closer, then away again. Crocs are approaching the hook as well, closing in from all directions. The dark shape has nowhere else to go...
Splash! The bobber bobs and Rustkill throws himself backwards. The water parts and his line flies upward. Time seems to stand still as a fish and a crocolisk burst up into the sunshine together. As Rustkill reels in his line, the fish throws itself back and forth, but it is securely hooked - the croc has taken the bait too and is preventing the fish from escaping. Rustkill has never felt such a struggle, but he remains strong and pulls the fish over his bucket and spins it around to look it in the eye. He gasps!
With a laugh that rings with relief and excitement (and maybe just a little sadness) Rustkill lowers Old Crafty into his bucket. Finally the fish that has eluded him for song has been outsmarted. Rustkill takes out his hearthstone and makes his way home. Old Crafty joins Old Ironjaw in the bank and Rustkill enjoys a few brews at the tavern. His day had started out like many others, but for Rustkill, the day had ended with more smiles than he could remember smiling ever before. Finally his task was complete.
The gnome would sleep well that night, for the legendary fish of Orgrimmar was his at last.
---
So! After more than 2100 casts trying to catch Old Craft the old fashioned way I decided that I needed to see if Old Crafty would swim to an alliance hook when accosted by crocs in the same way that he did for the horde. I am happy to say that he did. I got the crocs in the city quest and headed to Org (with a slight stop-over at the Scarlet Monastery!). I turned auto-loot off and started fishing. On my first catch I had a croc and a generic fish. I closed the loot window and tried again. The same thing happened. I was slightly discouraged, but determined to keep trying. After a few more casts my theory was confirmed! There was Crafty, along with a baby crocolisk. I clicked the slippery guy and okay'ed the confirmation and the he was finally was mine! This may in fact be a bug, but I simply could not pass up the chance to finally see my nemesis face to face. To my fellow Crafty Hunters I can only offer you good luck. I was forced to resort to trickery to catch Old Crafty... but if he was fishing forme I'm sure he'd do the same. They don't call him crafty for nothing!!
