Christo, the grey-green skinned goblin, was walking slowly using a walking stick, emerging from the elevator. His once nimble steps had turned shaky, his pointed ears had lost their support and were drooping on either side of his head. The usually vibrant eyes were now cloudy, a thick pair of glasses rested on his still pointed nose, and his stooped back and frail figure, all making him look ridiculously funny, like a clumsy clown from a village circus. A young maid, looking no more than fourteen or fifteen, was following closely behind Christo, ready to support the old goblin's arm if he would allow it, but she hadn't done so yet, due to Christo's insistence. The old goblin was steadfast about fulfilling his own needs, not allowing others to help him - even with simple task as walking. So, the young maid, she was left to hover closely, ready to catch the old goblin if he tumbles, watching over his last shred of dignity through her actions.