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Description
It was a dark and rainy day. Just about anywhere else the sun would be high in the sky without a cloud in it. Not on Tol Barad, though. On Tol Barad, it was always dark. But it wasn’t just the rain that made it so; the island itself gave off an air of unpleasantness. From the ruined fortress on the main island to the spider infested forest on the peninsula, Tol Barad had one of the most unfriendly atmospheres on all of Azeroth. From the moment you set foot through the portal in either Stormwind, main capital of the Alliance, or Orgrimmar, main capital of the Horde, it was impossible to mistake the dark aura that permeated from the island.

Maximbor, a dwarf shaman, stooped by an oversized spider in the forest on the peninsula. He’d been at it all day, killing spiders and collecting their silk sacks, or whatever they used to create their webs. The dwarf didn’t understand why he couldn’t just collect the webs directly; there were certainly enough webs in the forest to create bandages for a platoon or two. Or were they going to use them for something else? Maximbor hadn’t really been paying attention to the human who told him to go collect the spiders’ organs. Though, Maximbor found it a bit surprising that spiders even had organs, being all legs and butt. Shaking his head sharply, he tried to rid himself of his distractions and focus on the real reason he hadn’t been paying attention to the quest giver: retirement.

Maximbor was old; so old he tended to forget just how old he really was. He did know that most dwarfs his age, whatever that was, were already retired and spent their time drinking and reliving their old days in some tavern in Ironforge. Not Maximbor, though; this shaman still had the elements on his side, even if he sometimes confused the names of his earth and fire elementals. But that was neither here nor there. The real reason he was considering retirement was his guild mates. Ignoring their claims that he was too old for raiding, they had a number of good reasons for him to put up his mace for good. He kept forgetting how to deal with bosses and getting everyone killed (thank the light for Mass Resurrection). He was constantly yelling at younger members for not knowing typically common knowledge, despite them not having enough experience to know them in the first place. He was even starting to get cranky and yell at the guild officers. But despite all this, he knew the one reason that stood out above the rest, the true reason his guild wanted him to retire: his potions.

His guild was making baseless claims that the potions he made we’re affecting his health and mind, but not in a good way. However, Maximbor had never had any problems relating to the potions. Not physically, not mentally, not at all. And yet still, some of his guild mates had tried to have an “intervention”, or whatever they called it; tried telling him how his potions were slowly eating away at his mind and making him go crazy. Well, he certainly had something to say about that. He’d spoken up, saying he was 128 years old (or so he thought at the time) so obviously it was going too slowly to really matter much. Besides, he was always saying, if the gnomes had some little gun thingamajig that shrunk the entire world, Maximbor could have a potion that restored his mana and got him drunk to boot! So what if he made potions by mixing herbs and beers, it still got the job done. If they didn’t like his potions, it wasn’t like they had to use them. He’d given up on trying selling them, anyway.

His thoughts were broken by a sound coming from behind him. It sounded kind of odd, so he stood up and looked behind him. He couldn’t see it too well, but it appeared as if something or someone was running in his direction. Maximbor sighed and looked around for a good tree to hide behind. He was pretty much done with his silk sack collecting quest and wasn’t interested in getting involved in anything else so troublesome today. He found a nice thick tree to hide behind and watched as whatever it was got closer. He raised his eyebrows once he realized what he was looking at. Two people, a blood elf mage and a human death knight, were running through the forest frantically. Initially, Maximbor thought the death knight was chasing the mage, but he soon noticed they were actually running side by side. And then they were within hearing range.

“Poke it! Poke it, I said! Not whack it with your axe handle!” the blood elf shouted at the human in perfect Common.

“Who cares?! The end result was the same!” the human shouted back.

“I care! And you should too, considering this is your fault!”

“Why does it always have to be my fault?! Take responsibility some time!”

“Why should I?! You’re the one that messed things up!”

“This was your plan to begin with, Blazemoon!”

“My plan was to lure it to the edge of the forest for your friend to tame it, not have the entire forest chasing us, Necro!”

“Why do I always let you get me into these messes?!”

“Because I’m the most fun you’ll ever have! Oh snap, they’re catching up!”

“Then stop yelling at me and RUN!!”

“Hey, you started it this time!”

“Oh don’t go there again!”

Maximbor could only stand there and watch as the two were swallowed up by the darkness. His eye twitched as he wondered what the hell he had just witnessed. Then he felt the ground shaking underneath his feet and heard a skittering sound steadily increasing in volume until it was a roar. He realized he was still witnessing the scene as the largest spider he had ever seen rose up out of the gloom chasing the death knight and mage. And if a twenty-five foot tarantula wasn’t frightening enough, hundreds of smaller spiders were following it. Of course, just because they were smaller than the biggest one didn’t make them actually small. Sure, there were a bunch of hand-sized spiders in this stampede, but there were also spiders as tall as he was and even a few twice his size, maybe even larger!

Maximbor stood there gaping at the spiders for a full five minutes before they were gone. He was shocked by what he’d just seen. First had been a blood elf mage and a human death knight, not only running for their lives, but acting like two close friends arguing, too. How was that even possible? Mages and death knights were complete opposites and blood elves were at war with humans. And second was every single spider on all of Tol Barad chasing after them with a spider larger than some of the trees in the lead. Maximbor couldn’t believe it. There was no way that had been real. He needed a drink. He reached inside his pack for a flagon of dwarven mead he always kept with him. Instead of the flagon, the first thing it touched was a vial. Slowly, he pulled out the potion. It was darker red than usually healing potions, but that was because it was mixed with bourbon. He stared at it for a moment before throwing it at the ground. He pulled out the rest of his special potions and threw them down as well. He then shouldered his pack and started walking back to the portal to Stormwind. As he did, he said one thing to himself.

“It’s official; I’m retiring.”

Description
It was a dark and rainy day. Just about anywhere else the sun would be high in the sky without a cloud in it. Not on Tol Barad, though. On Tol Barad, it was always dark. But it wasn’t just the rain that made it so; the island itself gave off an air of unpleasantness. From the ruined fortress on the main island to the spider infested forest on the peninsula, Tol Barad had one of the most unfriendly atmospheres on all of Azeroth. From the moment you set foot through the portal in either Stormwind, main capital of the Alliance, or Orgrimmar, main capital of the Horde, it was impossible to mistake the dark aura that permeated from the island.

Maximbor, a dwarf shaman, stooped by an oversized spider in the forest on the peninsula. He’d been at it all day, killing spiders and collecting their silk sacks, or whatever they used to create their webs. The dwarf didn’t understand why he couldn’t just collect the webs directly; there were certainly enough webs in the forest to create bandages for a platoon or two. Or were they going to use them for something else? Maximbor hadn’t really been paying attention to the human who told him to go collect the spiders’ organs. Though, Maximbor found it a bit surprising that spiders even had organs, being all legs and butt. Shaking his head sharply, he tried to rid himself of his distractions and focus on the real reason he hadn’t been paying attention to the quest giver: retirement.

Maximbor was old; so old he tended to forget just how old he really was. He did know that most dwarfs his age, whatever that was, were already retired and spent their time drinking and reliving their old days in some tavern in Ironforge. Not Maximbor, though; this shaman still had the elements on his side, even if he sometimes confused the names of his earth and fire elementals. But that was neither here nor there. The real reason he was considering retirement was his guild mates. Ignoring their claims that he was too old for raiding, they had a number of good reasons for him to put up his mace for good. He kept forgetting how to deal with bosses and getting everyone killed (thank the light for Mass Resurrection). He was constantly yelling at younger members for not knowing typically common knowledge, despite them not having enough experience to know them in the first place. He was even starting to get cranky and yell at the guild officers. But despite all this, he knew the one reason that stood out above the rest, the true reason his guild wanted him to retire: his potions.

His guild was making baseless claims that the potions he made we’re affecting his health and mind, but not in a good way. However, Maximbor had never had any problems relating to the potions. Not physically, not mentally, not at all. And yet still, some of his guild mates had tried to have an “intervention”, or whatever they called it; tried telling him how his potions were slowly eating away at his mind and making him go crazy. Well, he certainly had something to say about that. He’d spoken up, saying he was 128 years old (or so he thought at the time) so obviously it was going too slowly to really matter much. Besides, he was always saying, if the gnomes had some little gun thingamajig that shrunk the entire world, Maximbor could have a potion that restored his mana and got him drunk to boot! So what if he made potions by mixing herbs and beers, it still got the job done. If they didn’t like his potions, it wasn’t like they had to use them. He’d given up on trying selling them, anyway.

His thoughts were broken by a sound coming from behind him. It sounded kind of odd, so he stood up and looked behind him. He couldn’t see it too well, but it appeared as if something or someone was running in his direction. Maximbor sighed and looked around for a good tree to hide behind. He was pretty much done with his silk sack collecting quest and wasn’t interested in getting involved in anything else so troublesome today. He found a nice thick tree to hide behind and watched as whatever it was got closer. He raised his eyebrows once he realized what he was looking at. Two people, a blood elf mage and a human death knight, were running through the forest frantically. Initially, Maximbor thought the death knight was chasing the mage, but he soon noticed they were actually running side by side. And then they were within hearing range.

“Poke it! Poke it, I said! Not whack it with your axe handle!” the blood elf shouted at the human in perfect Common.

“Who cares?! The end result was the same!” the human shouted back.

“I care! And you should too, considering this is your fault!”

“Why does it always have to be my fault?! Take responsibility some time!”

“Why should I?! You’re the one that messed things up!”

“This was your plan to begin with, Blazemoon!”

“My plan was to lure it to the edge of the forest for your friend to tame it, not have the entire forest chasing us, Necro!”

“Why do I always let you get me into these messes?!”

“Because I’m the most fun you’ll ever have! Oh snap, they’re catching up!”

“Then stop yelling at me and RUN!!”

“Hey, you started it this time!”

“Oh don’t go there again!”

Maximbor could only stand there and watch as the two were swallowed up by the darkness. His eye twitched as he wondered what the hell he had just witnessed. Then he felt the ground shaking underneath his feet and heard a skittering sound steadily increasing in volume until it was a roar. He realized he was still witnessing the scene as the largest spider he had ever seen rose up out of the gloom chasing the death knight and mage. And if a twenty-five foot tarantula wasn’t frightening enough, hundreds of smaller spiders were following it. Of course, just because they were smaller than the biggest one didn’t make them actually small. Sure, there were a bunch of hand-sized spiders in this stampede, but there were also spiders as tall as he was and even a few twice his size, maybe even larger!

Maximbor stood there gaping at the spiders for a full five minutes before they were gone. He was shocked by what he’d just seen. First had been a blood elf mage and a human death knight, not only running for their lives, but acting like two close friends arguing, too. How was that even possible? Mages and death knights were complete opposites and blood elves were at war with humans. And second was every single spider on all of Tol Barad chasing after them with a spider larger than some of the trees in the lead. Maximbor couldn’t believe it. There was no way that had been real. He needed a drink. He reached inside his pack for a flagon of dwarven mead he always kept with him. Instead of the flagon, the first thing it touched was a vial. Slowly, he pulled out the potion. It was darker red than usually healing potions, but that was because it was mixed with bourbon. He stared at it for a moment before throwing it at the ground. He pulled out the rest of his special potions and threw them down as well. He then shouldered his pack and started walking back to the portal to Stormwind. As he did, he said one thing to himself.

“It’s official; I’m retiring.”