Anytime anyone enters a tavern in Goldshire they are confronted by a wide variety of conversation. There are some who like to drone on about the political situation here or there and what this king or that king should do. There are others discussing deals or making plans to buy or sell loot at auction. Sometimes a group will be discussing how best to raid a dungeon the next morning.

The most popular conversations by far, however, are the story tellers. Some of these are simple fables drawn up simply to entertain and to hold listeners long enough to gain a few coppers for a tip by the end. Still others are tales of adventure that had recently occurred – much like you are reading now. I should note here that these "true" experiences do end up being embellished from time to time either to make the story more exciting or because the yarn spinner is so far into his cups that even he doesn't recall the actual event for what it really was. I will leave it up to you, the reader, to decide if I have taken any such liberties.

This particular tale started from one such instance when I found myself captivated by a dwarven story about a cave full of gold and jewels and other valuable loot. It seems, as it was told, that some evil spirit forced its self into the heart of a small tree spider. No one knows why or how, only that it did. Since then the spider was endowed with great strength and intelligence. It grew to an enormous size and became so powerful that it could not be harmed by any weapon.

Being of such great strength and now filled with evil it quickly discovered joy in the killing of any manner of life that it could find. Often times this would come in the form of some unwary traveler that happened to wander into its territory and if the monster had only stayed on such a diet, no one may have ever heard of it at all but as it was a young prince and his caravan were set upon by the beast and all but one were devoured.

The king, of course, sent knight after knight out to seek vengeance for his fallen son but none ever returned. Adventurers of all kinds sought to assist the king (and to help themselves to the large piles of loot it sat on) but none succeeded in quelling the beast and only a lucky few of these returned to tell the tale.

Many years later a young dwarf of exceptional abilities in weapons crafting forged a magical dagger. It was supposedly so powerful that the blade need only to scratch the flesh of the giant spider demon to destroy it. Alas, even he was devoured leaving the magic dagger laying helplessly among the bones of heroes past.

After this last failure the king became so distraught that he ordered the location of the cave to be removed from all the royal documents. Its location was to remain a secret, known only by a few elite Alliance guards who patrol the outlying area to prevent anyone from ever finding it again. Well, known to them...and the dwarf that was telling the story…and now me. Yes, I know the location because that is what this story is about.

Now, I realized that this story may have been completely false but as an explorer I had to find out. Besides that, there was something not quite fictional about the story. It is nothing I could readily explain through the written word. It was the way he spoke, the look in his eye, the tone of his voice. There is something about a true story, one that has been experienced, that comes out when one is telling it. I know it because I have relayed many a true story and many a fable myself. No matter how much someone might try to hide it. It is there.

At the end of the story I pushed my way through the crowd and offered to buy the dwarf a drink as a tip for such an exciting tale. He graciously accepted and we began to talk. I tried as best as I could to gain access to his information about where the entrance to such a cave might be.

He hemmed and hawed around the issue insisting that it was only a story and that I shouldn't take it too seriously but I pressed him on it nonetheless. I have to admit that the sheer possibility of such an adventure, not to mention the amount of loot at stake filled me with a zeal I have never felt before or since. I continued to order round after round of all manner of spirits in hopes that the story teller would become so drunk that he let some nugget of information slip past his lips.

It didn't work and as time wore on I began to feel light headed until...well, I don't really know what happened much after that. I must have passed out. This, by the way, proves the old Ironforge proverb, "You can't out drink a dwarf." (except for my Pandaran friend but that's a whole different story).

When I awoke it was morning. The tavern was empty except for me and the dwarf. He must have continued to drink long after I had succumbed to the affects of my libation until he too fell asleep on the table with his head right next to mine.

The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was a huge nose right in front of my face. The first thing I heard was him snoring loud enough to wake the dead which didn't do anything to help the pounding inside of my head. I pulled myself up to my feet, or tried, as my legs were still wobbling underneath me. It took a minute to steady myself enough to have the ability to walk home. I don't admit defeat very often but there seemed little else I could do to extract any information from my companion of the cups.

I reached down and grabbed the small brown sack I always carry with me. I use it to store my money and a few jewels and rings that I sometimes make and sell. As I did I noticed a the corner of a piece of parchment sticking up through the opening at the top. Curiously, I pulled it out and unrolled it.

Actually, there were two pieces of parchment. One was a letter and the other was a crudely drawn map with a few notations scrawled on the side.

The letter went as follows:

Alynx,

If you be serious follow the map. I hope you don't die. If you are more interested in life burn it all.

McDuff

He wasn't exactly poetic but dwarves rarely are, or so I've found. What he was, was serious and I had a choice to make.

I have never been one to play it safe. If I wanted to play it safe I would have moved to Westfall, married a pumpkin farmer and had a few dozen children. Then again, I've seen what mothers have to go through and it may actually be more terrifying than a giant spider demon.

That being said it is probably obvious that I chose to take my chances with the spider. It really only took a few minutes to decide. I figured that if nothing else I could at least make the trip. I could always turn back if I changed my mind later.

The journey only took a few days and was relatively uneventful. The most difficult part was deciphering the map I received from McDuff as he was well and truly snockered by the time he drew it.

Now, you might have noticed that I have not yet revealed the location of the spider's lair. There are many reasons for that which I wll share as my tale unfolds. Suffice it to say that the area in question is made up of an overabundance of hills and mountains – beautiful to look at but a pain to scale. And yet, that was my first task, to climb the mountain.

It took most of the afternoon to scale the surrounding hills. When I finally decided to stop for the evening it had already begun to grow dark. So I made a small encampment, had a nice supper of roasted mudslapper and fell asleep.

When I awoke the next morning the sun had just begun to rise over the mountains in the east. By virtue of this a ray of light somehow managed to squeeze through the numerous peaks before it and illuminated a small path ahead of me. It had been completely obscured in the dusk light of the evening before, but now it showed itself clear and beautiful.

Excitedly, I packed my belonging up, electing to skp the breakfast of eagle eggs and troll coffee (I have smuggled in from Razor Hill) that I had been dreaming about only hours before. That would have to wait.

Slowly and carefully I stalked up the trail making an extra effort to move as silently as I could so as to avoid any of the Alliance troops that the story said guarded the area. Oddly, I heard nothing for miles. There was no talking, clinking armor, or even snoring. The only sound was that of a few nearby larks.

I checked my map again. I was right where I should have been but there were no guards.

"It was a long time ago" I reassured myself as I rerolled the map and put it back in my pack. The king probably withdrew them...assuming that they were even there to begin with.

I continued along the trail. After a while it began to slope ever so gently upward into the hills. With the guards apparently no longer a threat I felt a little more relaxed. Even so I kept my guard up for whatever might set its self upon me.

About midday the path wrapped its self into a steep short upward spiral to the peak of the hill. Before completing the ascent I peered over the side of a small embankment to scout out the area. It was a large and flat and from what I could tell, it was surrounded by a sheer cliffs on all sides except for the side I was on. In the middle of the area was a huge earthen mound. It looked like an ant hill except it was much much larger. I was sure that this had to be the entrance to lair of the spider demon.

I crept closer, being as cautious and deliberate as I could. All the while, I never took my eyes off the giant spider hill in case the evil eight legged menace decided to emerge.

It turns out that what I should have been watching was my back. From what seemed out of no where I was attacked. All of a sudden I was pushed forward until I fell onto the ground. I rolled over just in time to see a large black spider hurrying toward me. At first I thought that this was the demon spider himself. Out of a sense of instinct and self preservation I pulled out my small throwing knife and hurled it at the approaching monstrosity. It stuck fast.

I quickly recalled that the spider in the story could not be hurt by mere weapons but this one had been. Either the story was wrong or this was not that spider. I didn't have time to debate the issue. I only had time to react. As the creature approached I pulled out my small hand ax and in one swipe relieved my attacker of one of its eight legs.

Stunned by my lack of willingness to be eaten and my ability to fight back the now seven legged freak backed up a step but only for a moment. It was only long enough for me to stand up before it was on me again, fangs first. I held my ax out if front of me this time, blocking the killing blow and allowing the great fangs of the beast to bite down on cold steal instead of my hot flesh. While it was distracted by that I quickly drew my dagger from its sheath and plunged it deep into the spider's soft underbelly.

It gave out a high pitched scream and backed off again. This time I was fully ready to defend myself against the next attack...I was ready to inflict a lethal blow.

Before I could act, however, I felt a sharp sting to my back. I whirled around in time to see another spider right behind me. It was facing away from me and there was a long thin white strand of web extending between it and myself.

I quickly cut the line with my dagger and glanced back at the first spider in case it had decided to take advantage of my momentary distraction. It had disappeared, either to lie in wait or to lick its wounds and leave me as a prize to its compatriot. As long as it was out of my way, I didn't care.

Turning my attention back to the second spider I prepared myself for the inevitable attack. When I did I was horrified to see a third spider emerging from the great mound.

Now, while I am no coward I knew that the odds were quickly shifting from my favor. One on one I could take any of the spiders but now there were two in front of me and a third possibly lying in wait. I had regroup.

I started to slink back down toward the path I had come upon but one of the black monsters cut me off. Before I could react a web entangle my right leg. I cut it off before its owner had a chance to pull me to the ground.

While I did that the spider blocking the path leapt toward me trying to catch me by surprise...and nearly did. Just in the nick of time I ran forward, dagger high, ripping a huge gash into the bottom of the creature as it passed overhead. It let out an ear splitting scream. I rolled and turned in time to see my opponent land, stagger, fall, and die on its back with its legs curled up above it.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I turned to face the next foe only see two more spiders emerging from the lair behind it. That was when I realized that there was no way I was going to get close to the spider demon or the treasure without an army, or at least a raiding party of some kind. My only goal from that point on was to stay alive.

With the only path leading in or out of the area clear before me and a dead spider behind me my choice of direction seemed certain. I burst into a sprint toward the path but I didn't get more than two steps before I felt a stinging sensation on my leg and followed by the tug of a web dragging me backward. Once again I cut off the sticky line and rolled just in time to avoid yet another spider hurling its self at me.

Alas, the move placed me on the opposite side of the area as the path that I so desperately needed to reach. Now, there was a cliff behind me instead and spiders in front of me with more arriving out of the mound all the time.

The eight legged beasts were now becoming impatient for their lunch. A web shot out from the crowd grasping onto my arm but this time I didn't cut it off. Instead I wrapped my arm around the web further ensnaring myself. Then, with only a glance downward I jumped over the side of the cliff face pulling a very surprised spider with me.

In a last ditch effort to save its self the monster released its hold on me and tried to send out a web to catch its self but it was too late. It plummeted to its doom.

At the same time I twisted in mid air and tried to bury my ax into the side of the cliff but it would not take hold. Luckily it did slow me down enough to survive the impact when I landed on a small stone outcropping a little further down.

Once I recovered from the impact, which took quite a while, I managed to scale down the rest of the cliff to a more open area that, thankfully, led to a town that employed a flight master. I never did prove weather or not McDuff's story was true, which is why I won't say where this all took place. Make no mistake, I am by no means finished with this quest. I will come back someday. And yes, when I do you all will be the first to read about it.