n years past, there lived a dwarf by the name of Meen Morstruyim. This dwarf was exceedingly greedy (it was said that he would sell his own grandmother if he thought he could get a few sans for her) and because of this he was generally disliked amongst his tribe. He ran a leatherworking shop in his home cavern in the Rimmerins Ring and always overcharged his customers for his goods and services. Unfortunately, he was the only leatherworker in the cavern, and thus the entire community was forced to go to him for their leather needs.
 

Picture description. The gold dragon of ancient dwarven myth. Image drawn by Faugar.

After many years of this exploitation on Meen’s part, the people grew more and more bitter about this vice grip that Meen held on this market. So one day an enterprising young dwarf decided that he could beat that old Meen and promptly opened up his own leatherworking shop. He was immediately successful, for his prices were far more reasonable than Meen’s. Everyone stopped going to Meen’s store, and his business had to be shut down. Meen grew angry about this, and soon left the cavern, to find his money elsewhere, with people who were not so biased.

He struck out, leaving the Rimmerins Ring altogether, planning on heading towards Kor Donion. However, one night, early into his journey, there was an earthquake in the middle of the night - at Darkreign. In all his years of living, Meen could not remember an earthquake of this magnitude. For a while, he thought it might have been Trum-Baroll’s wrath being felt by the earth. But the quake soon abated, and Meen went back to sleep.

The next morning, he began walking northwards, towards Kor Donion, when he spotted something. During his childhood, Meen had always heard legends of Thuenn, a dragon living in the mountains that was made of pure gold. He was sure that this was the beast of myth what he saw in the sky. Immediately, Meen’s greed kicked in, remembering well the tales of Thuenn’s vast hoard of wealth. Defying common sense, Meen ran at full speed, following the dragon. What he hoped to accomplish nobody is quite sure of, but it is fairly certain that the dwarf was mad, for few sane people get the bright idea to start chasing dragons unarmed.

He chased the dragon for quite awhile, which is quite amazing considering he was a dwarf trying to keep up with a flying dragon, but it is said that his greed alone gave him the speed to keep up with the flying beast. Of course, Thuenn took no notice of the little dwarf, and kept flying along his way, not minding the many hills and trees that Meen had to deal with. Meen, amazingly enough, was keeping pace with the beautiful beast.

Then, coming into a clearing, Meen looked into the sky, and saw that he had lost track of Thuenn. He despaired, but then saw an old dwarven lady. She was obviously hurt. She looked at him imploringly, calling out to him, “Help me, I tripped and broke my leg I think. I need your help to get back home.” Meen waved her off in annoyance, and continued running, hoping to once again find the golden dragon. The woman, now angered, yelled to his back, “Your greed will be your undoing Meen Morstruyim. You have been warned!” The greedy dwarf paid her no heed, and continued running. Suddenly, he came to the top of a hill, and stopped dead in his tracks, for what he saw amazed him beyond words.
 

Picture description. View on PocRotrum ("False Mountain"), a small mountain created by brown druids near the southwestern tip of the Rimmerins Ring. Picture from the game Mystical Empire™, used with friendly permission, done by Arbaon.

In a valley below him, there was a lone mountain, which looked as if it had been grown from the very earth. Meen had a fair amount of knowledge of the area, and he knew that this mountain was not supposed to be here, and had never been here before. He realized then that the earthquake from the night before must have been caused by the growth of this mountain. He thought that the dragon must have created it, to hid its hoard, and immediately deemed the mountain, PocRotrum (Thergerim for "False Tallrock" or "False Mountain").

Mesmerized, Meen watched as the gold drake flew down to the mountain, and entered through its only entrance. This snapped Meen’s greed back into place and, foolishly enough, followed the dragon inside. He was immediately stopped, seeing a dead end, with nothing in the room except for the very same old, wrinkled dwarfess he had seen in the clearing. "You have been warned, Meen Morstruyim, your greed will lead you only to despair. Leave now, and save yourself." Meen scoffed the old woman's superstitions and demanded passage into the mountain. The old dwarven druid shook her head sadly as she said, "Your fate is yours to decide." With a thought a tunnel opened which lead further into the mountain. Meen smiled avariciously, entering further after his greed.

Meen Morstruyim was never seen alive again, although now there are stories of a new statue in Thuenn's horde. One made of complete gold, and shaped exactly like an old dwarf with a greedy glint in his eye. Often, people have come to PocRotrum, searching for Meen's statue. They are turned away, told that the statue is not in the halls of the Earth Lovers, a place of wisdom and love. The statue of Meen Morstruyim can be found only in the halls of greed.

Thus is the fate of those who think with their pocketbooks, and not with their hearts. Heed this warning well, or your life may take the same route as Meen Morstruyim’s.

Afterword. After hours of research, including the scouring of historical documents of the Compendium and questions asked at PocRotrum, it has been decided by this dwarf that the story of Meen and his avarice is, while a good story, completely false. There has never been a dragon living within the halls of PocRotrum, not has there been any significant amount of treasure.

Pertaining to the gold statue of Meen: I merely assume that it was added in as little piece of myth to make the story a bit more interesting. How and when it was added in, I do not know, but it is safe to say that no such statue has existed in the halls of PocRotrum, and most likely, like the majority of this tale, is based solely on the overactive imagination of its tellers.