A/N: This story is based upon an old Celtic tale, known in at least one of its many variants as 'Hudden and Dudden and Donald O'Neary.' The protagonist showing great cunning after being initially wronged is common to the original tale, which perhaps suggests that it is not wise to underestimate even the lowliest...

Duergar, Lake, and Clever Donaz

Once, there was a very poor drow, Donaz by name, so poor that he owned but one rothé, and there were many that looked down upon him. Shamefully, even some outsiders felt they were above him by reason of their greater wealth.

One day, a pair of duergar merchants whose last sale had gone amiss decided that perhaps the shred of profit that would come from the beast belonging to Donaz would give them the money they sought. And so they crept to it while he lay resting, and cut its throat, so that it died without a sound.

But Donaz, wakeful, rushed to his rothé, and found it dead upon the cold stone. He sighed and resolved to get some money for it however he could. And so he skinned it, and sold the meat, and brought the coins from the meat along with him when he took the hide to sell.

But he cut slits into the hide, and slipped some of the coins into those slits.

Now Donaz went to the tavern where a servant of the merchants was drinking, and there he feigned getting drunk, and extolled the virtues of his marvellous enchanted rothé hide. He slapped it with one hand, and out popped a coin.

The merchants' servant stared, eyes all beady with greed. "I'm thinking to buy that off you," he told Donaz, sure that the profit he could turn here would make the merchants value him greatly.

"Ah, but this hide is my livelihood," Donaz protested. "It has kept me in the money I need for so very long." He slapped the hide again, and out popped another coin.

"I can make you rich quickly," the servant promised.

And so they began to bargain, clever Donaz slapping the hide each time the haggling slowed, until he'd regained all the coins he'd put there. And then he sold it for a fat purse of gold, and hurried away, counting himself fortunate.

The merchants' servant, meanwhile, tested his new trinket; finding it useless, he blamed another servant for the gold lost, and thus preserved his own skin.

Donaz, on the other hand, was checking his new coins when the merchants came upon him next. They were amazed to see him with so much money, and asked where he'd got it.

"Why, from the beast you so kindly helped me slaughter," he said. "The carcasses are going for a fine price just now."

Seeking profit, the duergar bought up many rothé, and slaughtered them, selling off the carcasses. But their asking price was so high that all thought them mad, and one offended noble took every last carcass from them without granting them a single coin.

Furious, the merchants vowed to take revenge upon Donaz for lying to them. They stuffed him in a sack, so that they could take him and throw him in the lake. They had errands, however, and so left his sack beside their wagon.

Donaz, angry, began to put together a plan. "I won't have it, I won't," he called ceaselessly from inside the sack, until a passer-by, a human trader of the bazaar, asked what was going on.

"I won't have it, I tell you," Donaz insisted.

"Won't have what?"

"I won't be presented to the Matron, for all she vowed to grant me my weight in gold." And so he spun a tale of how he had routed a foe and a reward had been insisted upon, but how he preferred his rivals not to know who he was, and greatly feared for his life should he be presented.

So compelling was his story, that at length the trader let him out and changed places with him, greedy for his weight in gold.

Donaz slipped away and took over the man's stall, the duergar returned, and without further ado, they took the sack to the lake and threw it in.

They were shocked beyond belief when they returned to find Donaz alive, whole, wealthy, and happy to see them.

"Thank you, dear friends," he said exuberantly. "For without your aid I'd never have had the courage to enter the lake and find any of the treasures hidden there. But there was so much I couldn't carry it all, and so I've found potions to let me breathe underwater, so I can go back and get more."

The duergar, stunned, begged to come along, to find the precise spot with the treasure. Once there, they grabbed his potion bottles and drank them down, leaving none for him, and dived into the water.

Donaz stood on the lake's edge and laughed at them. "Happy are dwarves who down poison so readily," he gloated, as the liquid stole their strength and let them slip into the dark water, never to return.

Then, greatly pleased with himself, Donaz returned to the city, claiming all the goods of the two duergar. With these new treasures, he bought greater comfort for himself, and lived amid the luxuries bought by his wits.