An Angry Librarian
The little man hardly comes up to your knees; it is not his stature that commands your respect, but the pointy-ended staff he wields in one of his hairy fists. The staff has a golden succubus headpiece with a platinum halo ringing its horned angelic face. Trying to take the staff would be unadvisable, however, as the librarian looks very handy with it, and he has already presented you with several bruise marks on your back from getting your attention. He is presently tirelessly pointing at a hole in the ground, with a furrowed brow and glaring, beady eyes. There is a large dusty tome snoozing on a table.