Glorina had to force herself to blink. She couldn't have heard that right. And yet, from the faces at the table—from the chuckles coming from their throats—this wasn't the first time they'd seen this scene.

  "He's really…” the Princess of the Deep started to say to Braun Granitefist.

  "Conundrum, the Walker of the World," the dwarf at the table said.

  "Technically," the gnome beside him said, holding up a finger. "It's the Walker of the Worlds, plural."

  "That's just presumptuous," Valeria said, picking up one of her cards and tossing it in the gnome's direction.

  "Hey, I'm not the one who came up with the title," the gnome said to defend himself at the same time he snagged the card out of the air with a pair of fingers.

  Even in her mind, Glorina couldn't call the gnome Conundrum or the Conan of the Drums she'd come searching for. Part of her winced at the mistake. At how loudly she'd bellowed the name incorrectly. If there was one thing she'd learned as a princess, names were important, possibly the most important words any individual ever held close to their chest. And what had she done? Walked into a tavern full of heroes and legends and shouted out the wrong name—repeatedly—with all the pride befitting the Princess of the Deep.

  That's right, that's who she was. Glorina, Princess of the Deep, guardian of the Monolith. She couldn't let a simple mistake like this derail her from her quest. She'd come seeking the help of heroes, and in front of her sat a table of such folk.

  While she debated internally, the ribbing at the table continued, with both Mika and Trath joining in. For them, their names were grounded in meaning and, indeed, in feat. For Conundrum, they poked and prodded, trying to understand why "world" would be "worlds" plural, as Valeria emphasized, and then chuckled again.

  "Because," Conundrum said, his face dead serious until he lifted a mug of ale up. "Depending how much you drink, there are some very different worlds out there." It was a statement the Whetstone Tavern agreed with—partially—because their drinks had been paid for by this gnome.

  Something about that sparkle in his eye, though, told Glorina there was much more to the name than he was letting on. Not that she had time to ask about it, with every mug in the tavern now being full thanks to his generosity. Or, maybe more accurately, thanks to the poor choices made by the people playing cards against him.

  As Conundrum threw his head back and tipped the mug to his lips, a hundred other drinks went into the air and fell in unison. For the moment, there was silence in the Whetstone Tavern, if silence could be called swinging, chugging, and guzzling.

  It honestly made Glorina feel right at home. Like she was back in the hall with her parents and brothers, toasting a victory against the Dark. So nostalgic was it, that Glorina didn't interrupt and waited until Conundrum's mug once again hit the table. Considering the cup was nearly as big as the gnome's head, it was impressive that it came back empty, and that the gnome's mustache and beard were still impeccable. Really, Glorina had to ask him what kind of products he was using.

  No, Glorina, don't think about that now, she told herself with a shake of her head, and gently placed one hand down on the table. "Master Conundrum," she said, "let me apologize first for mis-speaking your name…"

  "Oh, pshaw," Conundrum said. "Happens all the time.”

  “It really does," Valeria added, and even Brawn Granitefist nodded.

  "But if the name was wrong," Glorina said, only hesitating before asking the dangerous question. "What of the tales themselves? What of the shores of the Sapphire Bliss or the Battle in Two-Eye Pass? What of Acatrax the Red and all the others?"

  "Oh, that's all true," Conundrum said, twirling a hand in the air and then holding it above his head, "though probably told from a…" he winked at Glorina, "… a taller perspective."

  "It was really you who did all those things?" Glorina pressed.

  "Yep. All me," Conundrum said, then seemed to think of something. He pointed at Fatespinner, leaning against the table next to Trath One-Tusk. "Okay, to be fair, it was me and my partner."

  "His partner, the axe," Valeria said, in case anybody had missed that.

  "And this really is Fatespinner?" Glorina said, eyes drawn to the crystal axe with the night sky floating inside it.

  "Or one hell of a good replica?" Mika said with a chuckle. "I don't know, Valeria. You're the expert. Could it be a forgery?"

  The halfing went so far as to pull some sort of tiny telescope out of a pocket Glorina hadn't noticed before, expanding from the size of a monocle to almost a foot long. She brought it to her eye to look closer at the axe nearby. "In my professional opinion," Valeria said, her voice dropping in pitch like she was pretending to be an old man. "This is by far the best and truest and the most original Fatespinner I've ever seen."

  "How many have you seen?” Brawn asked the Undaunted.

  "Just the one," Valeria said. "And this is it."

  "Now, all that aside," Conundrum said, as one of the Whetstone Tavern staff brought over another round of drinks for the table, a sixth mug included, which was placed in the empty seat Zazabar had vacated. "Why don't you sit and have a drink with us, Princess? For you to have traveled this far, there must be some good reason you came seeking the Whetstone Tavern. There must be an even better reason it let you find it."

  Unsure what to make of that last part of the statement, Glorina took Conundrum up on his offer by walking over to the empty seat and sitting down. Once there, Conundrum gestured to the mug in front of her while gripping his own. Around the table, the others did the same, waiting until she wrapped her fingers around the cool handle of the large mug. Impressively, it reminded her of the Monolith's mugs, complete with the emblazoned logo of a dwarf's face on the side. The foam on top gave off a smell that had her whiskers shivering in anticipation, and she had to resist simply throwing it back. Could a human tavern actually have dwarven ale? Maybe the place wasn't so bad.

  "To meeting new friends," Conundrum said, lifting his mug in the air and gesturing. His eyes started to glower at the seat where the Master of the All-Consuming Flame had sat. Nobody seemed particularly upset that he'd been replaced by a princess of all people. “And ridding ourselves of poor sports.”

  “Hear, hear,” the others cheered and leaned forward to clap their mugs together before bringing them back to their lips to chug away. Not wanting to be left behind—or besmirch the reputation of good dwarves everywhere when it came to a mug of ale—the Princess of the Deep eagerly followed suit. Just like that, the full bodied flavor of the ale touching Glorina's tongue suddenly made the entire journey worthwhile. It wasn't just as good as the ale from the halls back in the Monolith. Three Below, no, this drink was as good as her father's personal stash, crafted by the finest brewers using top-of-the-line ingredients.

  Like the others around the table, she couldn't get enough of it, foregoing breath entirely to let the mug drain its contents into her mouth and down her throat. Only when she'd sucked every last drop from the mug did she put it back down on the table, her lips smacking, and eyes looking for the waitress that would bring the next heavenly offering to her. Unfortunately, none were close enough, and all she could do was stick out her tongue to lick the last drops from the tips of her beard.

  "It's good, isn't it?" Brawn Granitefist said from across the table. "Best I've had since I left home."

  "It's beyond good," she agreed. “I barely have words for it. Even now, the echoes of it linger on my tongue like a dwarven war-ballad echoing through the halls of the Monolith.”

  "Great praise indeed," Conundrum said. "And another mug will be coming shortly. So, in the meantime, tell me—no, tell us—what's the story that brought a princess here? One looking for me specifically."

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  The question banished thoughts of ale from her mind and brought back the true reason Glorina had come seeking Conundrum, the Walker of the Worlds.

  "The Monolith is in danger," the Princess of the Deep said simply, the fact she said the words at all conveying the severity of her quest.

  "From my understanding," Conundrum replied, "the Monolith is always in danger. The Dark beats at your very doors every day. Every year. Has for centuries. And for centuries, the wardens of the Deep have fended it off. What's different?"

  At the question, the others around the table—especially Brawn Granitefist—leaned forward. They all knew of the impenetrable walls of the Monolith: the spike that dove not up into the sky, but deep into the earth. Miles, it stretched. Level upon level, housing the stalwart dwarves and their defense against something they'd found when they’d dug too deep. Since that day, it had been their responsibility to prevent it from reaching the surface. Dwarven lives were lost in the constant defense. And, while the other six kingdoms offered aid, it was the dwarves' responsibility.

  Never had they asked for help protecting the Monolith. Never would they ask for help striking down the Dark. It had been their mistake that had awakened it, and it would be at their hand—beneath their hammers—that it was beaten back. Everybody around the table knew this, so what could it be prompting a princess to come looking for help?

  "We don't believe it's the Dark," Glorina said, choosing her words carefully.

  "Don't believe?" Conundrum said, emphasizing that second word. "How do you know there's a threat if you don't know what it is?"

  "The prophets," Brawn Granitefist said.

  "They've seen something," Glorina said. "The prophets of the Three Below have had a vision. They've seen a threat approaching the Monolith. A threat they only call..."

  "Zazabar! Master of the All-Consuming Flame!" a new voice shouted out, interrupting Glorina, as a man burst into the Whetstone Tavern. "Zazabar's gone mad! He's threatening to burn down the town unless Conundrum comes out and faces him for cheating at cards!"

  "I didn't cheat!" Conundrum said, already exasperated. “Zazabar just needed to stop laughing maniacally when he had a good hand. It's that simple, right, Trath? He's got a terrible poker face."

  "Even I could tell when he was bluffing," Trath One-Tusk said.

  "That is saying something," Valeria said.

  "He does kind of like burning things down, though," Mika added. "Do you think he'll really go through with it this time? He was pretty angry at losing. Didn't one of you take his favorite ring in this last game?"

  "Oh, this one," Conundrum said, holding up a ring that had what looked like a pair of angelic wings spread at the top of it.

  Honestly, to Glorina, it was a little gaudy, but who could really comment on human wizards' tastes?"

  "Yeah, that's the one. Wasn't he planning on giving it to that angel he always summoned?" Mika said.

  "Nooooo," Valeria said. "Zazabar wasn't going to finally propose to that angel, was he?"

  "Heavens, I hope not," Conundrum said. "He would have just been disappointed when she said no. The gods do not look too kindly on their angels marrying mortals. Especially not The Lady."

  "And how do you know what the gods think?" Valeria pressed.

  "I had dinner with a few," Conundrum said offhandedly. "I tell you, The Three Below, they can drink. I mean, it's not really a surprise considering they’re dwarf gods and all, but whew, you would not believe the amount they put away. And the stuff they have, I know—it's gonna be hard to believe—but it's even better than the Whetstone Tavern's drinks."

  At the comment, a waitress who'd been walking behind Conundrum gave him a resounding slap across the back of the head. The thwack echoed impressively, and the waitress didn't even slow her movements, just continuing on like it was a regular day at work. Conundrum chuckled at it. "Yeah, they don't like it when I say that here. Don't like it when anybody compare a god's ale to theirs, unless theirs wins."

  "Are you going to do something about Zazabar?" the man at the door shouted before Glorina could even open her mouth to ask how he’d dare claim he drank with The Three Below.

  Unless, it wasn’t a claim, but a truth…?

  Conundrum turned and looked at the man at the door. "He's burning down the inn," the man pleaded.

  "Ah, seriously?" Conundrum said.

  "Yesssss,” the man practically screeched.

  "Well, he's not invited back to our table then," Conundrum said, though his face turned a bit more serious as he hopped off his chair. "Princess Stonewall, I'm afraid the rest of your tale will need to wait. It seems I have a wizard I need to discipline."

  "Sounds like you're going to go out there and give them a spanking," Valeria said as Conundrum—all three feet of him—walked around the table to stand beside the towering Fatespinner. He shook his at the halfling, almost sadly. "If that was enough, Zazabar wouldn't be acting out.

  “Mika, I hope you don't mind one less rival left in the world.”

  “Nobody really liked Zazabar anyway," Mika said. "He’s kind of been on the outs with the circles recently. Rumors had it he was looking to make a pact with something from the seventh hell.”

  “Oooooh,” everybody around the table groaned at the same time. None of the hells were really looked upon as being good, but the seventh—especially—had a bad reputation. If Zazabar was dabbling in that, he wasn’t somebody Glorina would be willing to consider bringing back to the Monolith.

  The Whetstone Taven, a place for heroes and villains… she reminded herself.

  “All the more reason to take care of this now, then,” Conundrum said. “If you'll excuse me…" The gnome reached for the massive axe.

  How he was ever going to lift the thing, Glorina couldn't possibly fathom. It was taller than Trath One-Tusk, standing nearly eight feet long. The double-bladed head of it alone was as big as Conundrum was. Yes, the tale told of how he'd beaten Occu-Lum-Lum in an arm-wrestling match. But as she looked at the gnome, could that be true? Yes, he was impressively muscular for a gnome, of course, with only bracers around his waist and his chest completely bare. He had a loincloth and hide boots, some jewelry on his fingers, something that looked like a choker around his neck, and a pouch tied to his belt. Given his legends, those had to be magical items. But did he really go around swinging an axe two or three times his size?

  As his fingers touched the crystal, Glorina got her answer: Fatespinner shrank in an instant to barely even three inches long. Now held between two fingers, Conundrum took the axe and clipped it to the back of his belt, where it dangled at his side like little more than a forgotten accessory.

  "All right," he said, clapping his hands together. "I'll be back in a moment, if that." He turned, gave a little wave over his shoulder, and strode toward the door leading out of the Whetstone Tavern.

  "You know, we can't miss this," Valeria said to the others at the table, throwing back her mug and draining the ale before hopping off the chair. Even shorter than Conundrum, the halfling dashed out after him.

  At the same time, Brawn Granitefist reached under the table to pick up his namesake vambraces. Only when his head popped back up and he spotted the Princess of the Deep sitting across from him did he hesitate again.

  Trath and Mika were already on their way out the door. Glorina wouldn't be the only one to miss this!

  "What are you waiting for, Brawn? Let's go," she said, shuffling after the other three.

  While dwarves were known for their strength, endurance, and unwavering will to stand up for their kin, speed was not one of their strengths. Especially not when fully enclosed in heavy plate mail meant to defend against the worst threats the Dark could throw at the Monolith. Nevertheless, Glorina—with Braun Granitefist just behind her—exited the Whetstone Tavern back to the town.

  She had entered a place looking like little more than a shack, and been surprised about what she'd found within. Now, as she thought about it, it was stranger than ever. Outside, the shack didn't look to be more than a single story tall, much like the rest of the buildings within the fishing village. Inside, it was far larger, with at least two floors.

  Glorina shook her head to throw the thoughts aside. There were more important matters at hand. Namely, the only building that was more than one floor within the town was currently engulfed in a raging fire. That would be the inn Zazabar was supposedly burning down. And as for the man himself, he stood in the center of the street, about two hundred feet away from the entrance to the Whetstone Tavern, flames dancing on his fingertips. As Conundrum strode toward him without a care in the world, the gnome shook his head.

  "Would you put that out?" he shouted at Zazabar. "The place might have the lumpiest beds this side of the Fangs, but it's also got the best scrambled eggs for leagues in any direction.”

  “Your love of their eggs is why they need to suffer,” Zazabar shouted.

  "That's just petty," Conundrum said. "But look, you got me out here. Let's settle this."

  "This will only be settled with your death," Zazabar threatened.

  "Yeah, see, that's not going to happen," Conundrum said. "So, I'm going to give you one chance. Surrender, give up the All-Consuming Flame, yada yada yada, and you can walk away. I'm taking your funny robes, though."

  "My robes are not funny!" Zazabar shouted.

  "They're pretty funny," Mika shouted from where she stood beside Glorina. "The colors totally clash. Pink and red—didn't your mother ever tell you…"

  "Heavenly Wrath!" Zazabar shouted. "Once I'm done with the cheater, I'm coming for you."

  "Sure, sure, sure," Mika said, flicking a hand like she was really just terribly worried about it.

  "Can he really win?" Glorina asked.

  "Who? Zazabar?" Trath asked.

  "No, Conundrum," Glorina said. “That’s the Zazabar.”

  "Princess,” Trath said. “You're the one who came spinning his tales when you came into the tavern. Now you ask if he can beat a two-bit wizard?”

  “Zazabar is no two-bit wizard,” Glorina said. “Zazabar's All-Consuming Flame never yields. He wipes out armies. And the tales about Conundrum, are they really all true?" Even though she was the one who’d bellowed out his accomplishments, she was having a very hard time reconciling the legends with… his size.

  "Don't let his stature fool you. That is the Walker of the Worlds," Trath said, complete confidence in his voice.

  Like he heard them talking about him, Conundrum turned his head so that he could just barely look at the four standing in front of the Whetstone Tavern. "Are you all looking at my axe?" he said while cocking his hips out to the side.

  "No!" Valeria shouted. "But your ass looks like it put on weight."

  "Oof," Conundrum said, reaching up to put his hand to his heart as he turned completely to face them. "Guess I should work some of that off, then."

  In that moment of distraction, Zazabar, Master of the All-Consuming Flame took advantage, winding up and hurling a ball of roiling fire the size of a grapefruit at the unaware gnome.