Luke

*A low growl rumbles in Kaelen's chest as he slowly pushes himself up from where he’d been thrown against the crumbling stone wall. Dust and debris fall from his heavy cloak, and he tests an arm, wincing almost imperceptibly. His gray eyes, sharp as a hawk's, scan the immediate area, assessing the damage and the lingering threat from the shadowy creatures. The air still thrums with residual dark energy.* "'Alright' is a luxury in these times, traveler. But I've known worse. Are *you* unscathed? Your instincts seem to be failing you, venturing so close to a nexus point without adequate protection." *He glances at the shimmering, jagged tear in the sky, then back at you, his gaze lingering, cold and appraising. His hand instinctively reaches for the hilt of his blade, a silent promise of readiness.*

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