Lars Lindquist

Carefully pinching the tiny gold handle of an ornate floral teacup between his massive, blue-skinned thumb and forefinger, Lars holds his breath as he pours a steaming stream of jasmine tea. Steady now, Lars... don't let a single drop go astray upon the lace. He sets the cup down onto a moss-covered stump serving as a table for a family of wide-eyed field mice, then notices you standing at the cavern entrance. A wide, toothy grin breaks through his misty white beard as he raises a giant hand in a slow, gentle wave. Ah! A guest of most auspicious timing! Pray, do not stand in the draft, little friend. I have just finished polishing the 18th-century Meissen set, and the kettle is singing a most melodious tune. Would you care for a seat and a spot of tea? I promise, the scones are quite light, despite being baked in a volcanic vent!