Den’s Drinking Den, a tavern in Dunshun, Cetrid stands on a chair at a table scribbling on a piece of parchment, his pointy purple tongue sticking out of the side of his mouth in concentration.

It is early morning, so Cetrid, a single passed out Ratman still there from the night before, and Den, the tavern owner, were the only ones in the building.

Den is a Troll with dark blue skin and ripe tomato colored hair.

Trolls typically have a skin tone that ranges from different shades of blue to different shades of green, they also have brightly colored hair in their youth which dulls out in their latter years.

They’re tall with skinny, but muscular, limbs with tusks that protrude from their mouths that can sometimes curl in a variety of different ways.

The door to the tavern is opened and an armor-clad Dwarf walks up to the bar.

The Dwarf’s name is Andul, the one who was sent to investigate the lowering of sales in the Mt. Foog region.

“Excuse me, are you Den, the owner of this establishment?”

Behind the bar, Den puts his hands on his hips.

“Yeah, why ya askin’?”

Andul gets up and sits on a stool.

“You, along with other tavern owners, have been ordering significantly less ale than usual, can ya tell me why that is?”

Den rolls his eyes and shrugs.

“I don’t know, man, people just haven’t felt like drinking, I guess.”

Andul clenches his fists.

“... Mhmm…”

Cetrid noticed the angry Dwarf asking questions, so he grabbed all his parchments and snuck out the door.

He then pulls a small blade out from his boot and starts to lodge the blade lengthwise between two of the wood planks of the bar’s top.

“That’s interesting, y’know…”

Andul leaps towards Den and grabs him by the back of his head, he then pulls back and slams Den’s face onto the bartop where the knife is.

Fortunately, Den’s tusks weren’t curled, so when his face was brought down towards the knife his tusks got stuck in the bartop, stopping his face from landing on the knife.

Andul starts to walk towards the door.

“I know there’s something going on here, and I will find out what it is!”

Den struggles to get his tusks out of the bartop as Andul walks over to the table with the passed out Ratman.

Andul grabs the mug of half-finished ale, takes a sniff then a sip.

He tosses the mug away and clenches his fists.

“This… is not our ale…”

Cetrid ran as fast as he could, loose sheets of parchment were flying about as he made his way into the forest, back home to warn Rumfus about the possible threat.

He made it to the hatch, flung it open and quickly threw himself downwards.

Cetrid lands on his neck on the hard dirt ground at the base of the ladder as sheets of parchment flutter to the ground.

Rumfus turns to see what the noise was.

“Ha ha ha, oh Cetrid, you need to be more careful.”

Cetrid sits up and starts to rub the back of his neck, then gets on his knees and starts picking up the scattered parchments.

“Rumfus! Sir! There was a Dwarf that came into Den’s Drinking Den and started asking questions about… uh… ale!”

Rumfus’ face turned serious as Cetrid spoke, he knew that he would have to do something about this Dwarf, or at least find out the purpose for his questions.

“My my… was he alone?

Cetrid started to nervously poke his fingers together.

“I don’t know, I just ran, he did look… uh… dangerous, though…”

Rumfus goes up to his weapon rack, grabs his broadsword, Ashrune, and his staff, Stormbringer, he then heads to the surface to meet this Dwarf.

On the road heading towards Ruckfoot from Dunshun, Andul was walking with his squire, Farndell, and his trusty mole mount he had named Sigfried.

On this pathway was a gravel road with grass, bushes and thick forestry on either side.

The three walked down the gravel path, suddenly they stop.

There is a figure down the path walking towards them.

A distance away the figure stops as well.

Andul squints his eyes in an attempt to see who it is.

His vision may not be the greatest, but Andul knew who he was staring down, he knew it had to be the one he's been looking for.

"...Get me my axes, boy…"

Farndell, confused, goes over to the mole's left side satchel to retrieve Andul's axes.

Andul grabbed the two axes, one in each hand, without taking his eyes off Rumfus.

"I got to say, Brew Wizard, I thought it would be more difficult to find you!"

Rumfus is standing, the brim of his hat covering his face.

"You're wrong, Dwarf, I have found you…"

Andul tightens his grip on his axes.

"The Dwarves wanted you brought back alive, but you killed my brother… I have no problem bringing a corpse back."

Rumfus tilts his head slightly, moving his hat's brim so he could see the Dwarf.

Indeed he did look like the Dwarf who led the initial convoy before Rumfus had to go into hiding.

The two stood silently staring at each other.

Andul, tense and angry.

Rumfus, calm and patient.

Andul starts to let out a long and intense battle cry as he sprints towards Rumfus.

Rumfus stood still as the Dwarf ran towards him.

Continuing to shout, Andul, surprisingly, leaps into the air, arms crossed ready to horizontally swing both axes at the wizard.

At the last moment, Rumfus lifts and points Stormbrimger's crystal at Andul's chest and a bolt of lightning shoots out towards him.

The bolt hits the Dwarf in the center of his armored chest piece and he flies backward, almost back to where he was originally standing.

With more than just the wind knocked out of him, Andul laid on his back for a moment to try to recover slightly while Rumfus slowly walked over.

Before the Dwarf attempts to get up, Rumfus places his bare left foot on Andul's chest.

It startles the Dwarf and he starts grabbing at Rumfus' foot trying to get it off.

Rumfus looks down at Andul.

"Go back to your homeland and tell them you found nothing."

Andul attempts to spit at Rumfus for his offer.

"I'd rather drown in a trough of Troll and Cyclops piss than admit defeat to you!"

The spit missed.

Rumfus looks up towards Farndell.

"... Very well…"

The sound of metal buckling and cracking is heard as Rumfus puts significant force onto Andul's chest.

"GrrrAAAHHH!"

There was crunching and a tiny amount of blood squirted up as Rumfus' foot caved in the Dwarf's chest.

Farndell stood in shock next to the large mole.

Rumfus walked towards Farndell, blood trailing from Andul’s caved in chest, as he left bloody footprints on the gravel path.

“You, boy…”

Farndell takes a step back in fear of the wizard, he falls onto the ground and puts his hand in up towards Rumfus in an attempt to plead for his life.

“I-I don’t know anything, w-w-we met a small distance from Blander-Dar, He offered to pay me to be his squire!

All he told me was that he was investigating the lowered ale sales in the area!

This is not something I want to be a part of, please!”

Rumfus stared down at the cowering Dwarf with a stern look.

“Hmm… very good, then my offer extends to you.

Go back to your homeland, report to Blander-Dar and tell them the population has lowered due to sickness and murder.”

Fardell scurries back a little bit.

“Yes! Yes! Ok!”

Rumfus stands and watches as the Dwarf gets up and onto Sigfried.

“Do this… or I will hunt you down and you will suffer the same fate.”

Farndell nervously looks at Rumfus.

“W-what do I say happened to Andul?”

Rumfus turns and starts to walk back the way he had come.

“The Corpse? Bandits attacked while you were on your way back, this is a dangerous area after all.”

With that, Farndell quickly headed back to Blander-Dar to speak with Humdumson.

He did what Rumfus had asked of him, Humdumson had a hard time believing Andul was done in by mere bandits, but there was no way for him to know for sure, so he had to take Farndell’s word for it.

Now that the Nine Nations were seemingly completely off of Rumfus and Cetrid’s trail, they went back to focusing on the ale.

That concludes how Rumfus had acquired the title “The Brew Wizard.”

But this is far from the only tale that can be told about this wizard, for Rumfus truly lived the most interesting life of any that had ever inhabited Langstay, past, present or future.