Suddenly the elves fell silent. There was a loud thumping, crashing sound coming toward them from quite a distance away through the woods. Tethon quickly stamped out the fire. Both he and Alexia found cover behind trees and drew their weapons.
But before the crashing reached them, a small hooded figure in a robe jumped quickly but silently into the clearing, looking around wildly. The elves could see somewhat in the dark and could tell he was only 3 or 4 feet high and stocky. He cried out in a husky voice, "Who is there? Are you hurt?!" Strangely, he paid no attention to the crashing sound as it came closer.
The two elves stepped out, warily. "She was wounded!" said Tethon. "I was tending her wound". They were somewhat surprised at the small… man? … for he was not quite human. He wore a thick brown robe with a high collar and had a staff that now emitted a sputtering light from the top. By its light they could see his head and face were covered with a soft gray fur. But his eyes were covered with a pair of thick spectacles held tightly in place with a leather strap. He said, "I heard a scream. I hope you are all right, all right!" The light on the staff flared up brilliantly and illuminated the clearing in a steady manner.
Now, however, the crashing -- obviously heavy footsteps -- was near. The elves were greatly surprised when a huge figure, easily 7 feet tall, burst into the clearing. It was covered from its shoulders to ankles with chain mail, had a full helm on its head that obscured its face, and carried of all things, a colossal steel shovel with a long iron handle in place of a weapon. If anything, the shovel was taller than the giant. There were remnants of a suit of plate armor on its massive chest and shoulders as well, and a dirty tunic with a barely recognizable rampant lion displayed on the front, all held in place with a wide leather belt.
If the shovel wasn't unusual enough, the feet would be. Its muddy boots were huge, enormous; far out of proportion to the rest of this imposing figure. Alexia could not suppress a ludicrous mental image of a large watermelon-half cut lengthwise at the end of each leg, flat side down. The giant looked at the little gnomish man talking to the elves, lowered the shovel, and stood still.
Still, the most surprising thing of all may have been the words that next came out of the mouth of the gnomish creature. "I am oolooGonio Klaatu and oolooGonia Endera. This here, (he said as he gestured proudly toward the giant), is my son, oolooGonito Braandu. Elves, is it, is it? Who are you and why are you here in times like these, like these?"
