The Pub With No Beer

Grayson finally couldn’t take anymore. The constant pounding heat on his shoulders, the sand shifting underfoot, and the pains and aches coming from his stomach were just too much to contend with. He stopped his walking and slumped onto the ground. There was no way they were going to get out of this mess... if he was going to die he may as well die at rest. In front of him Peter kept walking ahead, and Grayson was irritated to faintly hear him whistling a strange tune.

Don’t stop now you fool. I’ve suffered enough at your hands for you die with me. A strange voice thought into Grayson head.

“Oh god... you know? I just don’t care anymore,” Grayson muttered. From a while away Peter finally noticed that Grayson had fallen behind, mostly because he released it had been thirty seconds since he last heard a complaint.

“What? Did you say something?” Peter called. His voice would almost have been cheerful had it not been dry and coughing. It had been a week since the two had last eaten, and several days since they last drunk.

“Oh, I’m just talking to that voice again,” Grayson said, barely mustering the energy to speak.

“What’s it saying this time?” Peter asked.

“Well, it’s basically complaining it’s going to die, and managing to insult at the same time,” Grayson said.

“Hmm. You know your problem Grayson? You have a too negative view of yourself,” Peter stated, “You need to think positive more often.”

“Think positive? How the hell am I supposed to do that? My only problem right now is that we’re going to die, and that you keep humming that same damn tune!” Grayson said.

“Sorry,” Peter said, stopping his humming. “I’ve just been hearing it every now and then: Once when I lead us out of the caves into the desert, once when I used my keen ranger skills to find that oasis, once when I held off that pack of wild animals... Like the tune is there, but it’s not, you know, there.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. The only time I’ve heard that tune is when you’ve been humming it!” Grayson complained. He sighed and stared up at the sky, willing for clouds to appear. To his great surprise he saw a hint of blackness in the corner of his eye, and turned around to see a huge black cloud slowly floating towards them. Grayson jumped up and reached towards it, only to find himself with his head stuck into the sand.

“Uh... Grayson? I think you’re having a mirage again,” Peter said helpfully. Grayson’s reply was lost in the sand that he was still half-buried in. Moments later he resurfaced, looking angry.

“You’re doing it again! You’ve practically doomed us both to a slow and painful the death, the least you could...” Grayson ranted angrily.

“What are you talking about? I’m not doing anything!” Peter said.

“Well if you’re not, then who is?” Grayson countered.

“Maybe it was the voice inside your head!” Peter concluded. “It’s your subconscious telling you to get up and keep walking!”

“The only thing that voice has ever done is... oh wait. You’ve stopped now,” Grayson said.

“I never...” Peter began.

“AH! You’re doing it again!” Grayson said, burying his head into the sand again.

“Hang on... I can hear that too!” Peter said. Grayson pulled his head out and looked surprised.

“You can?” he asked.

“Yeah!” Peter exclaimed.

“Well then... what is it?” Grayson asked. Peter paused in thought for a moment.

“Well... it doesn’t sound much like a choir,” Peter said.

“What the hell would a choir be doing out in the desert? Choirs...”

“I don’t think it’s much of a parrot either. Remember that parrot I summoned before?” Peter asked.

“Yeah, I remember the parrot. It bit me. Twice. On the...” Grayson began.

“AND it doesn’t sound much like a sexophone,” Peter interrupted.

“Obviously it doesn’t sound like a... wait, a what?!” Grayson said.

“You know, those long hard things you blow,” Peter explained. Grayson stared at him. “Remember the long ones, that kind of get bigger at the end?” Grayson continued to stare “Those instruments!”

“Oh, right. That’s a saxophone, Peter,” Grayson said, sounding somewhat relieved. “But I still don’t see how that...”

“OH!” Peter called out, ramming his fist into the air. “You know that troll we saw in the caves?”

“Ye-ah,” Grayson said slowly.

“You know how he kind of did that squeal thing in a high pitched voice when he fell over?” Peter asked.

“I don’t think trolls squeal, Peter,” Grayson said.

“Well this guy was a troll, and he squealed. I was just thinking that he didn’t sound like that tune either,” Peter said. Grayson sighed.

“You really don’t have a clue what the noise is do you?” Grayson asked

“What makes you say that?” Peter asked.

“Oh I dunno, that fact you can’t tell me what it actually is!” Grayson said.

“What it is? Oh that’s easy. It’s the tune to a bard song, that usually gets played at celebrations in town halls,” Peter said.

“Wait. Wait. And you didn’t think to tell me this before,” Grayson said.

“Well obviously I was too busy finding the way to the desert village to...” Peter began.

“Peter, that tune is for celebrations,” Grayson interrupted.

“Well, duh, but...” Peter said.

“Celebrations a town hall,” Grayson said. Peter stared. “In a town!”

“I was busy find the desert village! You can’t expect me to think of the origins of a tune and find our way through the desert at the same time do you?” Peter argued.

“Peter. If you’ve been hearing a tune, that comes from a town, while wandering lost in the village, looking for a town, had it not occurred to you that this tune may in fact have come from that town?” Grayson said. The two paused.

“That kicks rocks! So I did find our way to the village! Come on, let’s go!” Peter said, setting off a quick stride.

“Yeah, you found the way to village, after a week of walking around it!” Grayson said, catching up to him. “You know, this wouldn’t have happened if...”

“Don’t even say it, Grayson. Don’t even say it,” Peter said hastily. “Besides, does it really matter? The important thing now is we can go get something to eat and drink from this great desert...”

Grayson clambered weakly over a sand dune and caught a glimpse of the source of ever-present tune. To his surprise and disappointment all that was there was a small collection of four buildings. In front of one Grayson could just make out a small figure dancing around with a flute.

“Village?” Grayson finished.

Peter and Grayson walked up the boy with the flute. From a closer distance the boy appeared to be health, well nourished and if anything slightly overweight. When he saw the two he stopped playing and quickly shut himself into one of the buildings. The buildings themselves were rather modern considering the harshness of their surroundings, and the lack of anything else around them. One of them, the largest one, had several windows and Grayson could see a few faces peek out and stare at them. Grayson was heartened to see that one of them had a large wooden sign attached to it reading ‘The Theendisnotnigh Bar’.

“A bar! We’re saved! We’re going to live! We’re...!” Grayson began, doing a small dance in the sand.

Great. Why don’t you just die now and hopefully someone here is at least moderately heroic. Grayson heard the mysterious voice say. For once though he really didn’t care.

“Uh... Grayson?” Peter said.

“What is it? Does it matter? Don’t you see Peter, we’re going to live! Ha-ha!” Grayson said happily, dancing his way over to the bar.

“Grayson... there’s kind of a small... problem,” Peter said slowly. Grayson stopped dancing and turned around to face him, grinning broadly.

“What is it? Lost your way to the bar have you?” Grayson said, chuckling at his own joke.

“Not... not exactly. Remember that whole... Upgrading our weapons thing?” Peter said asked.

“Yeah, I know. I got this great sword. I got the brilliant sword! And I’m still going to get a chance to use it! This is the best day off...” Grayson said happily.

Oh god... somewhat break me now and put me out of my undeserved misery. the voice said, but Grayson ignored it.

“We kind of don’t have any gold left. Those arrows cost a whole gold for a bundle you know,” Peter said. Grayson’s smile dropped faster than a brick.

“We WHAT?! Oh god... don’t you have anything? Anything we can sell or trade... maybe we can trade your bow for some beer,” Grayson said in disbelief.

Maybe you could trade me in so I could finally be free of you. the voice said.

“No way! I need this to slay the dragon,” Peter objected.

“Well... maybe they’ll let us have our first drink free,” Grayson sighed, and pushed open the door.

Peter and Grayson entered the bar, and looked around. The bar was rather small in size, but there were many tables and chairs scattered around the place, several of which were occupied. The place looked surprisingly old compared to the rest of the ‘town’, and most things were made of simple stone. A barmaid walked up to greet them. Grayson would surprise to find that she was an elf.

“Hello, weary travellers. How may I be off assistance to you?” the barmaid asked.

“Well, we uh... our current financial... we’ve been travelling since... ah *bleep* it. Give me a drink! I’ll do anything, please! Just for the love of gold and all things shiny just GIVE ME A DRINK!” Grayson outburst, dropping onto his knees to plead. The barmaid glared at him coldly.

“No free drinks! If you want to drink you must pay!” she said.

“But we don’t have anything to pay with!” Grayson said, getting up, “do you at least know of anywhere nearby where we can earn some gold. Preferably before we dehydrate?”

“Well if you’re really desperate, and you promise to spend all your gold here, I guess there’s a wizard over there that needs some heroes to help him out,” the barmaid said, walking off. Grayson turned the direction she pointed and stared. Sitting at the bar over a large mug was a short figure, clothed in green.

“Uh-oh,” Grayson said. The wizard turned around and to his surprise waved.

“Why hello good sirs! I couldn’t help but notice your predicament earlier and took it upon my self to advice the bar maid of my own plight! If you would like to earn some gold, then please, do come and sit beside me while I explain my request!” the wizard said. Grayson and Peter cautiously sat down.

“So uh... who are you anyway?” Grayson asked.

“Me? Why I am Albert the Astounding, high mage of this area!” Albert said proudly. “And may I ask of your names?”

“Well, I’m...” Grayson begin.

“I am Peter the Great Hero,” Peter interrupted, taking a small bow, “Ranger extraordinaire and slayer of a thousand ice cube monsters! And this is my sidekick Grayson. He’s a fighter, but don’t mind him. Intelligence was his dump stat.” Grayson stared open jawed at this comment.

“Pleased to meet you Peter, now about...” Albert began.

“Excuse me?! What the heck do you mean sidekick?!” Grayson yelled, getting the attention of many nearby customers.

“Well, clearly I’m the one who leads this expedition. You would be totally lost without my skills,” Peter said.

“I’m totally lost because of you Peter, it was you that got us lost in the forest, and the caves and the plains and...” Grayson exclaimed.

“Hey, I’ve got us here didn’t I?” Peter said.

“Here?! We don’t even know where here is! We’re in this tiny, ‘town’ using the word in the loosest possible sense, miles away from the desert village, the dragon, any gold that we own...” Grayson said.

“If you don’t mind my interruption, would it be okay if we got...” Albert said politely, but his words were mostly unheard by the two.

“Hey now, let’s not forget the polls! I was clearly the leader of my quest,” Peter argued.

“Those polls were rigged by the mods and inconclusive and you know it! And you did not slay a thousand ice cube monsters. You did not even slay a thousand Gelatinous cubes! There was one cube Peter, one!” Grayson exclaimed.

“Um... I really don’t have too much time hear if we could just...” Albert interrupted.

“What makes you say that? It exploded into a thousand pieces after all, and all of them were dead! Besides, that’s still one more than...” Peter said. Suddenly Albert lost his patience.

“FIREBALL!!” Albert screamed angrily. A massive ball of flame engulfed the centre of the bar, and suddenly the purpose of the stone setting seemed obvious. Peter and Grayson shut up immediately and turned back to Albert with a look of fear, surprise and mild irritation on their faces.

“Ha, that was way less than twenty minutes. You owe me five gold,” a man could be overheard talking to his companion.

“Oh dear, I am most dreadfully sorry. I just lose temper sometimes, it’s just a little problem I have. Anyway, I have a problem. I own a series of mines near here. They are quite valuable and provide a rather good income. Unfortunately a rather nasty troll has entered there. I’d deal with him myself, but my magic might damage the product, and you might notice I am not to strong physically. So, I’ll strike you a deal. If you can slay the troll in the mines then I shall pay you. Will a hundred gold be sufficient?” Albert explained.

“A hundred gold!” Grayson exclaimed, his attention diverted from Peter’s earlier comment. “That kicks rocks!”

“It what?” Albert asked in confusion.

“Never mind. So, where is this mine then?” Grayson asked. Albert gave him the location of the mine, and handed over a piece of parchment to Peter.

“Now, this is a map!” Peter exclaimed.

“So... what is this mine for then anyway? Is it gold or what?” Grayson asked.

“No, it is not gold,” Albert said.

“Silver? Copper? Iron? Plutonium?” Peter asked in rapid succession.

“No, no, no!” Albert laughed. “It is nothing so trivial as that! Why if it were but a simple gold mine I would not feel so bad about loosing it!”

“What is it then?” Peter asked.

“It’s a salt mine!” Albert said.

“Salt?!” Peter and Grayson exclaimed simultaneously. Grayson unbelievingly, and Peter eagerly.

“Yes, salt! It is a booming economy these days. With so many new uses for it being learnt daily, heroes are ordering it by the bagful. Just a single bowl of salt would be worth many dozen gold!” Albert said happily. “I myself have invented twelve different uses for it in the last week!”

“Oh, I invented one not along too!” Peter said. “We’ve got to swap ideas later!”

“Let me get this straight,” Grayson said, turning to Peter. “That bag of salt you bought for two copper, would in fact be worth several hundred gold now. And you knew about this. And we ate it.”

“Hey, we didn’t eat all of it. I used some of it to slay the ice cube monster remember?” Peter said. Grayson turned back to Albert, sighing.

“Yeah okay then, we’ll go. I don’t suppose there’s any chance of getting an advance on that gold is there?” Grayson asked. “We kind of need something to eat now.”

“I am so sorry, but I have too many people saying that and then running away when they say the troll. ‘It was too big’, ‘it’s skin was too tough to penetrate’, ‘my three companions were killed in a single swing’, ha, the excuses people use to get out of it!” Albert laughed. Grayson and Peter glanced at each other nervously.

“Ha-ha. Anyway, we’ll be going now,” Grayson said, turning to leave.

“By the way...” Peter asked. “Do you know any Alan the Astoundings?”

“I know a few. Anything more specific?” Albert said.

“Wait, you know more than one Alan the Astounding?” Grayson asked.

“Sixteen, actually,” Albert said after a moment.

“Well, the guy I’m think of is kind of short, he wears green like you, he was pretty drunk when we met him...” Peter said.

“Oh! You must be talking about Alan the Astounding my twin brother. Everyone says we look a lot alike,” Albert said laugh “Can’t say we act the same though! He’s, and I mean this in the nicest possible way, a bit... well... rude.” Albert looked a bit embarrassed even by that minor criticism.

“And drunk. Very drunk. Let’s not forget drunk. He drank a lot I think,” Grayson said, glazing off a bit.

“Ha! He was an alcoholic sometimes. Not me though, no sir. I’ve never touched a beer in my life!” Albert said, taking a swig from his mug.

“Wait... so what’s in that mug then,” Grayson said, snapping back to reality.

“This? Oh this is short flat black-grey with two and one,” Albert said, licking his lips.

“A what?” Grayson asked.

“Oh I am sorry... most people aren’t used to that terminology. The last one refers to salt in teaspoons. One of my ideas you know!” Albert said proudly.

“Uh...” Grayson said, pausing for a moment.

“I get it! It’s coffee right?” Peter asked. Albert nodded.

“Who puts salt in their coffee?” Grayson wondered.

“A lot of people do it around here now. One of the most popular brews it is, the old short flat black-grey with and one,” Albert said beaming.

“So... people around here prefer coffee to beer? What kind of a place is this?” Grayson said.

“Prefer coffee? Everyone drinks coffee! We don’t even sell beer here!” Albert said.

“No beer,” Grayson said, stunned.

“No.” Albert replied. After a few moments Peter directed Grayson towards the exit and pushed him lightly. Grayson began walking, still in shock, muttering ‘no beer’ under his breath over and over.

Eventually Peter and Grayson reached the salt mine. By this time Grayson had recovered from the shock of the loss of the sale of beer, though he was starting to have trouble staying conscience from the more pressing need of water.

“I can’t believe they don’t sell beer there. Who in their right minds drinks coffee over beer?” Grayson said as they walked up to a sign. Peter peered at the sign for a moment.

“haa-zzarde... Hey Grayson what’s a haazzarde?” Peter asked. Grayson squinted and read the sign.

“Hazard. It says hazard Peter. As in dangerous,” Grayson said, groaning slightly. He was about to say something else when he fainted and collapsed into the, thankfully soft, sand underneath him.

“Grayson? Grayson? Ah damn it,” Peter said, and begun to hall Grayson inside the cave out of the sun.

Grayson was suddenly aware of something cold and wet splash over his face. He gave a startled cry and jerked upwards to find himself inside the salt mine. All around him the mine split into different paths, and there were mine tracks going down most of them, as well as a single mine cart sitting at the entrance. Deeper in Grayson could see sections of salt glinting out of the sand and rock. Instantly Grayson’s mind clicked into action as he saw Peter standing over him holding a now empty bucket. Grayson hastily tried to catch some of the water as it dripped off him, but to no avail. Soon the water had been absorbed into the ground below him.

“PETER! What the hell did you do that for?!” Grayson yelled with renewed vigour.

“Well you were unconcentric! I couldn’t just leave you die!” Peter said, apparently happy his plan had, just for once, worked.

“That’s unconscious,” Grayson corrected automatically, “and please tell me there is more of that wonderful, wonderful water nearby.”

“Er... see that’s the thing isn’t it...” Peter said slowly.

“Oh god... you have got to be kidding me,” Grayson said.

“What makes you say that?” Peter asked.

“You know what?” Grayson said, “I’m not even going to validate that with an answer.”

“So anyway... I dragged you in here after you passed out. I looked in the mine cart and saw this bucket, full with water. I was going to drink some, but that wouldn’t have been very heroic. So I tipped it over your head and you woke up,” Peter explained.

“A whole bucket of water... and you just tipped it away. You know what? I’m not even surprised anymore. Come on, let’s get going. The sooner we slay this troll the sooner we can get a drink,” Grayson said sadly, walking up to the mine cart. Grayson peered inside to see a lever.

“I wonder if this thing still...” Grayson said to himself, reaching for the level. The instant he touched it the mine cart suddenly began moving by magic, and Grayson was flipped forward into it. Of course, he thought to himself. A wizard runs this thing.

Meanwhile, Peter was left alone to begin exploring the mines. He followed the mine tracks for a while, but eventually they seemed to run out as the mine got deeper. Apparently Albert had not yet finished them all. Without the tracks though it didn’t take long before Peter found himself completely lost in the mines. The map he had been given only explained the way to the mine... not the way through it. After a while he had still seen no trace of any troll, though he had seen more salt than he thought possible.

“I am so lost... where’s Paul when you need him?” Peter muttered to himself. As he said this though he turned a corner and found himself at an exit to the mine. To his surprise though, it was not the same exit that they had come in by. Nearby Peter saw a stone tablet. He walked up to and read it aloud.

“Those who call the Nameless One will have all their questions answered,” Peter read. He shrugged.

“OH NAMELESS ONE! I HAVE QUESTIONS FOR YOU!” Peter yelled into the sand. Nothing happened, though for a moment he could have sword he smelt a whiff of butter. Peter thought to himself. How do you call something with no name anyway? Peter looked at the tablet again.

“Trying to call the Nameless One, ay?” a voice behind him said. Peter turned around to see a short old man standing behind him.

“Yeah, I am. Do you how to call him?” Peter asked curiously.

“Well I’ve never called him personally,” the man said, chuckling to himself, “But I know of an ancient rhyme that is said to contain a clue.”

“What is it?” Peter asked. The man cleared his throat, and again Peter could smell the faint trace of butter. It was starting to make him hungry. When the man spoke he spoke in a deeper voice, and with much more confidence and rhythm.

“In the desert...” the man began before Peter interrupted.

“Which desert? Is it this desert? Or maybe the great southern desert? I don’t want to have to go that far you know. Or is it a metaphorical desert?” Peter said enthusiastically. The man frowned.

“Quiet! Now listen,” the man said, and Peter instantly fell silent. “In the desert, there’s a man with no name. They call him ......, that is his name. And he smells, like margarine.”

“Margarine? Is that some kind of secret code word? How does margarine smell anyway, it doesn’t have a nose?” Peter asked. The man rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“Okay, that was just pathetic,” he said.

“Yeah, I guess your right. Sorry. Anyway, how does that help me?” Peter asked.

“You must call the Nameless One by his true name! Repeat after me... Oh ......, hear my call!” the man said. Peter shrugged.

“Oh, hear my call!” Peter cried into the sand. Nothing happened. The man shook his head.

“Look you’re doing it all wrong. You have to speak his name!” he said.

“But if he doesn’t have a name how am I supposed to call him? Wouldn’t that like, be a paragon or something?” Peter asked. Off in the distance, Peter could faintly hear Grayson calling

“Paradox, Peter. It’s paradox!” Peter could just catch. He shook his head.

“How does he do that?” Peter pondered.

A long distance away, Grayson was relieved when the cart ride came to an end. Not that he was particularly fond of the way that it ended, with a large crash and an even larger fireball, but it cases like this it didn’t help to be choosy. Now Grayson was sprawled over a large mound of salt at the edge of a large cliff. Below the ledge Grayson could hear the most welcome sound he could think of: running water. The only thing preventing him from diving down right now was common sense. That, and a large troll standing in front of it.

“Accursed being!” Grayson yelled angrily, reaching for his sword. Of all the times for Peter to be left behind it just had to be when he actually needed him.

Seeing your pathetic combat powers ought to be mildly amusing at least. the voice said to Grayson.

“That’s a bit harsh. What have I done to you?” the troll spoke loudly.

“Oh shut up,” Grayson muttered to himself.

“Hey! What do you want me to do, stand here and get insulted!” the troll spoke angrily.

“I wasn’t talking to you I was...” Grayson said, stopping in mid sentence. “Wait... you can talk?”

“Oh no, you’re probably just imaging it! Of course I can talk!” the troll spoke.

“I didn’t think trolls could talk? And... I thought trolls were a lot smaller,” Grayson said, thinking back to the cave.

“Why shouldn’t I talk? That’s the problem with you scrawny humans, always assuming the worst in other races. You’re just as bad as the others,” the troll said sulkily.

“Uh... well I kind of assumed you couldn’t. You know, being a huge troll, killing people and stuff,” Grayson said, scratching his head.

“That’s mean! Those people just came up to me and attacked! I have a right to defend myself don’t I?” the troll spoke.

“I... I guess. So... you’re not going to kill me then? You know, if I don’t attack you first,” Grayson asked cautiously.

“Of course not! Do you just going around killing anyone who gets near you?” the troll spoke. Grayson could have sword he heard a slight moaning in his head.

“No... No I guess not,” Grayson said. The two were silent for a moment.

“I was just wondering... how come you’re in here then? I was told that you took over the mine and were slaying anyone who enters... that kind of thing?” Grayson asked after a while, sheathing his sword.

“I’m not telling until you say sorry,” the troll said stubbornly. Grayson sighed.

“Okay, fine. I’m sorry,” Grayson said reluctantly. The troll appeared to brighten as it began its story.

“Only about a week ago I lived in some caves far away. They were pretty big and cool caves, plenty of fish to eat. I was friends with this wizard nearby, Alan the Astounding,” the troll recounted.

“Wait, Alan the Astounding? Short sarcastic guy who drinks a lot?” Grayson asked in disbelief.

“Oh no. This Alan is actually a drow. He was rejected from society due to stereotypes like me as well, and we ended up in the same cave. Anyway he had invented a new spell to permanently change forms. I agreed to be his test subject, and to change into the form of a regular human. Unfortunately the spell kind of failed, and I was teleported into this salt mine. I met another wizard here, Albert the astounding, with some kind of machine. He was angry at me at first, and started casting fireballs at me, but after a moment he calmed down and left. Now when I try to leave the cave some kind of magical force stops me,” the troll finished sadly. Grayson found himself actually feeling sorry for the troll.

“That’s kinda sad. Well, as long as you promise not to eat me, I’m Grayson. I don’t suppose you’ve seen a lost ranger around here?” Grayson asked.

“No. I’m Tristan the Tameable Troll!” Tristan said happily.

“Okay, great to meet you. Do you have any water? I really need a drink,” Grayson asked.

“No, I don’t have any water... but that Albert guy keeps dumping beer in here,” Tristan said. Grayson’s eyes lit up.

“Where?! You have to take me to it!” Grayson said. Tristan nodded and to Grayson’s surprise and alarm grabbed him in one claw and began to carrying him through the mine.

“Oh ..., here my call!” Peter called. Still nothing happened.

“Look, you’re still not doing it right,” the man said in annoyance. “You need to emphasise the name more.”

“Fine, fine... Oh ......, here my call!” Peter called yet again. Still nothing happened.

“The Nameless One hears your call!” the man said in his deep voice. Peter stared.

“You’re the Nameless One? I’ve spent the last half an hour trying to call you and you’re already here? What was the point of that?” Peter said in annoyance.

“You have to do it properly. I’m sick of all you young ‘heroes’ coming up with your own callings. This is my service and if you want it then the least you could do is call me right!” the Nameless One said.

“Waiting half an hour to speak something right isn’t very heroic though,” Peter said.

“Look, stop complaining. Now do you want your questions answered or not!” the Nameless One grumbled.

“Whoa, hold on! First of all, how many questions do I get?” Peter asked eagerly.

“You are allowed three questions,” the Nameless One intoned, “Use them wisely.”

“Three huh... okay, why do you smell like butter?” Peter asked curiously.

“Butter? Butter?! I do not smell like butter! What is it with you mortals and your foolish senses? This is margarine! God... now ask your next question,” the Nameless One said in annoyance.

“Wow... I can’t believe it’s not butter! That so smells like butter!” Peter said, grinning.

“And I can’t believe you wasted a question on such a poor joke as that!” the Nameless One said, evidently not amused in the slightest.

“Okay, okay... What is your name? Seriously, you can’t just have no name,” Peter asked.

“My name is ......!” the Nameless One intoned.

“That’s not a name! That’s just a space where a name should be!” Peter argued.

“Then my name is the Nameless One,” the Nameless one said in annoyance.

“That’s not a name. That’s a title, like ‘the dwarf’ or ‘the Great Hero’. You can’t have a title without a name for that title to be attached to,” Peter argued.

“I am an all-knowing being! I do not need a name! Now you have had your three questions, leave me be!” the Nameless One said, walking out into the sand.

“Three? I’ve only asked two questions! And you didn’t even answer the second one!” Peter exclaimed in annoyance.

“You have asked three questions. Do not question my omniscience!” the Nameless One intoned angrily. He cleared his throat, and began imitate Peter’s voice clearly “‘How many questions do I get?’, ‘Why do you smell like butter?’, and ‘What is your name?’”

“You still didn’t answer the last question. You owe me an answer! Tell me, oh Nameless One, or whatever your name actually is, How can I find Grayson the fighter in the shortest possible time?” Peter asked. The Nameless One waved his hands angrily and with a flash, a bang and a puff of smoke Grayson appeared before Peter coughing.

“What the hell just happened? Where did my beer go?” Grayson asked in confusion.

“There. That is how you can find him in the shortest possible time. Now go!” the Nameless One intoned, walking into the desert. Peter ran up to the edge of the mine and called after him.

“But if you don’t have a name, you can’t have a title attached to it, and therefore can not be referred to in anyway! You can’t possibly exist in a story because that would only attach a name to you!” Peter called. The Nameless One turned back to him for a moment with a look of shock before he vanished into thin air. Behind Peter, Grayson was just regaining his senses and walked up to Peter.

“What the heck did you just do Peter?” Grayson asked.

“I think the ...... just fell into a plot hole,” Peter explained. As he said this the mine walls shuddered dangerously and a few trickles of salt and sand fell.

“Who?” Grayson asked.

“Nevermind. I think he’s gone now anyway,” Peter said, sighing. Grayson looked around and notice the bulging cave wall.

“Have you been breaking the fourth wall again Peter?” Grayson asked wearily.

“Not breaking so much as bending... anyway, we’d better get out of here. That troll could be around here any moment,” Peter said.

“Actually, ‘the troll’ is quite friendly. He led me to some beer. I could have drunk it. Instead I’m standing here,” Grayson complained. “Screw this; let’s just go slay that god damn wizard instead.”

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to let you do that,” a voice said from behind them. Peter and Grayson turned around to find Albert standing behind them.

“What are you doing here? I thought you didn’t want to risk damaging the salt?” Grayson asked. Albert laughed.

“The salt? You honestly think I care about the salt?” Albert laughed.

“Wait, didn’t you say...” Peter began.

“And you believed me, fools! Why would salt be worth anything?” Albert said.

“Then why...” Grayson said.

“Why should I tell you? You know too much already. Now I must destroy you,” Alert said, pulling a scroll out of his robe. Grayson drew his sword, but Peter just stood there.

“Can’t you tell us your plan? All evil people are supposed to reveal their plan before they kill their enemy. It’s common courtesy,” Peter asked. Grayson turned to him.

“What did I tell you about that?” Grayson said sternly.

“Sorry, sorry,” Peter apologised.

“Well, okay I guess,” Albert said, lowering the scroll. “But only for the sake of completeness! Now as you may already have guessed, salt is actually worth nothing. With a salt mine this large I would be lucky to make even a small profit. So I set up a magical machine that would broadcast both a cryptic message that salt is expensive, as well as a cheery tune to attract any nearby heroes. Unfortunately it had a few side effects on people’s minds...”

“I knew it! Nobody prefers coffee over beer!” Grayson yelled triumphantly, punching the air.

“...such as that. So all the rich heroes come to this small town instead of the real desert village, and leave broke. Once they leave the spell is broken though, so I had to make the town small enough to be magically moved every now and then so nobody could find their way back. When the troll appeared in the mines it was a great sign... if I could make it seem the supply of salt was low then people would pay even more for it! And now you now the truth, so you must die!” Albert explained, raising the scroll in front of his face. Grayson leapt forward with his sword, and Peter instinctively began running away. “ULTIMA OBL–”

“This plotline is incredibly contrived!” Grayson yelled as loud as he could. To Albert’s surprise the bulging mine wall exploded outward in a shower of rocks, sand and salt. Grayson leapt backwards, barely avoiding the collapse. Peter walked up cautiously.

“Wow, that must have hurt. I wonder if he’s...” Peter began. Before he could finish his sentence however a blinding light shot out from the rubble and blew the two head over heals backwards. For a moment they were blind, then their vision returned and they could see Albert standing in the middle of a large hole, looking angry.

“You expect me to die so easily?!” Albert laughed.

“Well, yes actually,” Grayson said. Peter fired an arrow towards him but it bounced of some kind of invisible shield and lay in the dirt.

“You know these arrows really suck,” Peter considered. “I’ve actually managed to do more damage with the velcro ones.” Grayson nodded in agreement and glanced around.

“If you surrender now, I might let you live to become my slaves!” Albert offered, quite generously under the circumstances.

“Allow me to make consider counter-offer... RUN!” Grayson yelled, and he and Peter set of a moderate pace into the desert. Albert frowned and sent a fireball flying towards them. Just before the fireball made contact an icy hurricane engulfed and neutralised it. Grayson turned to see Tristan standing with a tall drow dressed in black robes.

“So you’re the one who imprisoned my friend! I could have reversed the spell a week ago if it weren’t for you accursed runes!” the drow yelled at Albert.

“Oh I’m sorry. I’d love to compensate you in some way, but I am rather busy engaging these... hey, where’d they go?”

Peter and Grayson wandered through the hot sand.

“I wonder what happened to that drow. Do you think he managed to stop Albert?” Peter asked as they walked past yet another seemingly-identical sand dune.

“Who cares? I’m just glad we got out of there,” Grayson replied.

“Not a very heroic finish though. It would have been better to go out in a blaze of glory,” Peter said.

For once the fool may be right. the voice said to Grayson.

“What, getting engulfed by a fireball? Yeah, very heroic. I’m just annoyed that we went through that whole thing and didn’t even get a single drink,” Grayson complained.

“So? I’m sure to find another oasis again sometime. Think of all the villagers, still getting ripped off. I suppose the drow might have stopped the machine though,” Peter considered.

“Or maybe not. It’s not like we’re going back to find out. Let’s just forget the whole thing happened. We’ve still got a dragon to slay,” Grayson said. The two walked for a moment until Grayson stopped.

“You’re humming it again!” Grayson complained. Peter just smiled as he and Grayson walked off into sunset.