Dealing with the Murlocs

The air grew heavy with the thick, salty stench of rotting fish and river mud long before the trees finally parted.

Down at the water’s edge sat a set of decaying wooden docks, surrounded by a dozen small, green-scaled figures tearing through old fish crates. They were waddling, bug-eyed, and making that horrifyingly distinct gurgling sound that haunted the dreams of every low-level Alliance recruit.

Mrglglglgl!

“Target acquired,” I muttered, pulling my heavy hammer from my belt and crouching behind a thick bush. “Alright, here’s the tactical plan. We creep along the treeline, draw them off two at a time, and maintain a strict bottlene-”
“Fear not, brave paladin!” Sister Clara squeaked behind me. “The Light shall guide your path!”

Before I could even turn around to stop her, Clara slammed her hands together and uttered a booming, melodious prayer. Instantly, a blinding sphere of holy golden light enveloped me. It radiated with the force of a small sun, completely burning away my night vision and illuminating the entire riverbank like a circus tent.

Every single murloc froze. A dozen pair of bulbous eyes turned slowly toward the bushes, fixing directly on the glowing, unmissable beacon that was my face.

“MRGLGLGLGL!”
“I have blessed you with the Shield of Righteous Radiance!” Clara cheered, beaming with pride. “Now, draw their ire!”
“I didn’t need to draw it, Clara! They’re already drawing it for me!” I yelled, scrambling out of the bushes as the entire amphibious horde charged up the mudbank, spears brandished.

I swung my hammer in a wide, desperate arc, catching the first two fish-men across their slimy snouts with a wet thwack. Mud splattered over my boots as three more leapt for my waist, thrusting crude bone spears at my leather chestpiece.

“Gerald! A little ranged support would be fantastic right now!” I shouted, barely parrying a dagger made of sharpened carp bones.

Over on a dry wooden crate, Gerald sat cross-legged, holding his mug of black tea in one hand while lazily extending two fingers with the other. A tiny, pitiful spark of purple fel energy flickered from his knuckles, floating through the air at a walking pace and gently bopping a murloc on the forehead. It did roughly zero damage, but it did make the murloc look mildly confused for a second.

“I’m pacing myself, paladin,” Gerald rasped, taking a slow sip from his mug. “Severe concussion, remember? The doctors said no heavy spellcasting before noon.”
“You didn’t go to a doctor, you fell down a cellar!” I ducked as a flying mud-crab barely missed my head. “Clara, do something!”
“I am channeling a powerful ward of spiritual encouragement!” Clara called out, clutching her book and striking a majestic pose while doing absolutely nothing to stop the five spear-wielding fish currently trying to turn my legs into fish bait.

I let out a breathless, exhausted groan, parrying another spear thrust as the glowing holy aura around me flickered brightly, ensuring that every murloc within a five-mile radius knew exactly where to find me.