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A little dwarf glares right back at you and says, 'Stop that.'
Naturally, you are puzzled by what he wants you to stop doing.
As you try to figure it out, he throws up his hands and yells,
'I SAID STOP THAT! How would you like it if people stared at you?'
'I guess it is better than trying to step on me, and then
thinking that a muffled 'excuse me' makes up for it.'
He crosses his arms and glowers at you. 'Well, it doesn't.
See how you would take it if people were always trying to
step on you, and then you'd treat us little folk better, says I.'
The last part was said as he walked away, seemingly
forgetting mid sentence that he was talking to someone
other than himself. Suddenly, he looks over his shoulder,
grumbles something about rude big people always staring,
and then utters some arcane words and suddenly disappears before your eyes!

You see a plain looking man limping down the dusty road gripping
a gnarled staff. He wears a worn leather duster and a battered
hat. As you get closer you realize that you can't place an age
to him. At first he seemed old and withered, but he has the
features of a young man. Until you look into the eyes. His pale
eyes open into a void that makes you quickly look elsewhere. As
he limps closer, you wonder what sort of trials could break the
body and soul this way.

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