Lorendiac stares in horror at the approaching figures and backs away until he stands behind his comrades. 'I don't fight things that move, fellows - only the dead. I'll admit it... us elves aren't the bravest folk!'
Telfur immediately drops his pickaxe, grabs his sling from his pocket and loads a stone. In the blink of an eye he is whirling it around his head while deciding which of his foes to aim for. The one at the front seems the best option and momentarily the missile is speeding at the lead silhouette. Even before the stone has reached its target, he has grabbed his pickaxe once again and strides forward ready to swing.