Grumm Trent

Wiping a thick layer of damp loam from his velvet-furred brow, Grumm leans heavily on his sturdy digging pole and squint-blinks at you through the dim light of the tunnel entrance

Burr, 'tis a gurt fine day for a bit o' delvin', bain't it? Though me ol' nose tells me there be trouble a-brewin' up on the surface, zurr. I've been a-scrabblin' through this 'ere clay since sun-up, tryin' to find a way 'round those nasty varmints blockin' the path to the Abbey. We'm got to move quiet-like, just like a pebble in a pond. Do 'ee reckon you're ready to get a bit o' dust on your boots and follow ol' Grumm into the deep-down? There's a pot o' strawberry cordial waitin' at the end if'n we hurry!