"Is this going to be a 'short' story?" someone sniggered, laughing at his own wit. There was a slight thunk as a pint of beer impacted that someone right on the nose.

"Aye, no height jokes 'ere, or yer get another beer to yer noggin!" The dwarf looked around fiercely. "Anyhoo, as I t'were saying…"

The dwarf once again started his anecdotal tale.

For a dwarf, he was quite far from home. You see, he'd been out hunting dragons, and had surprisingly met with a great deal of success.

"Out hunting dragons? You?" an incredulous reply came, and with good reason. It was that same someone from earlier, bleeding slightly from one nostril but otherwise already recovered. "No one has seen a dragon for decades, or at least no one you can believe! That is as sure as my name is Sam! If you can prove it, I'll eat my hat!"

"Oh really? Yer be regrettin that inna minute". The dwarf held out a cloth bundle and shook it a little with a glint in his eye. "I hope yer feelin' hungry! Anyhoo…"

He continued on. He was hunting one specific dragon, a dragon that had eaten his father's cousin's aunt's son or something - it didn't matter. Dwarf relationships were complicated, and family was family. He'd tracked the dragon over five hundred leagues, through mountains and across deserts, and…

"Hold on! Why would a dragon fly five hundred leagues, crossing mountains and deserts, just to eat your mother's sister's uncle's cousin?"

"Shaddap! Dragons do like that, yer know! Or yer would if yer'd ever seen one! And t'wer me uncle's cousin's friend's brother that were eaten! Anyhoo! Ther dragon…"

He'd tracked the dragon five hundred leagues over varying and difficult terrain until he finally found it in a cave, asleep on its hoard of treasure. It was a vast horde, and would definitely cover the cost of his grandfather's nephew's son's mother's funeral. The only problem was that he had to kill the dragon, and for that he had a special sword. Unfortunately, as he drew the sword, the dragon woke up, and taking one look it ate the sword. As it so happened, the sword turned out to be a fake. Facing a dragon with no weapon, he had to think fast of he was doomed. The only thing within reach was his tent roll, so he quickly grabbed it and stuffed it down the dragon's throat. The dragon was so surprised that it accidentally inhaled the thing, and promptly choked to death, leaving the treasure for the dwarf to take.

Finished with his story, the dwarf unfolded the cloth, and held out a ruby the size of his fist. "Yeh can et your hat now, like yer said yer would."

At this point, the bartender smiled. "Oh, Sam, don't you know? Dwarves can never tell tall tales!" And then he ducked as an empty pint glass sailed towards his face.