In the Hall of the Elder

The Tinder Mines were well lit and full of activity as Dwarves went about their daily business of mining ores and precious stones from the bare bones of the earth. The part were exhausted from lack of sleep, but as was the Dwarven custom they would be expected to break bread with the settlement leader before being welcomed into the mine proper.

Elder Erinforge was a wisened old Dwarf with a thick beard, long ago turned from fiery red to white. Whisps of its former glory still snaked out amidst the white. He had been snoozing in his chair and upon entering a young Dwarf at his side gave him and nudge and whispered in his ear.

"What? Eh?" he croaked. The younger dwarf rolled his eyes and whispered again.

"Nonsense, there are no giants in Midgard." the Dwarf growled trying to clout his adviser. In half turn he saw the huge form of Erik bowed in the chamber and his eyes grew wide. His mouth opened and closed several times and then a wheezing breath escaped that eventually turned to a squeel.

"Jotun, Jutun in the mine, to arms! to arms!" His adviser frantically tried to get his attention but it was no use. The Elder leapt from his seat and went to hide behind his chair. The other Dwarves in the room did not move seemingly well used to such behavior.

"Hey Kespin are you related to this guy?" Majvoc snorted.