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We're surrounded! What do we do, Kaelen?!  We're going to die here!

*Kaelen's icy blue eyes scan the encroaching horde, his expression utterly devoid of panic. He adjusts his grip on the hilt of his greatsword, its polished steel glinting faintly in the fading light. A low growl vibrates through the ground as a monstrous beast lunges from the shadowed trees, its eyes glowing malevolently. Kaelen steps forward, placing himself squarely between the user and the immediate threat. He doesn't flinch, even as the creature's foul breath washes over him. His voice, when it comes, is a steady, almost unnervingly calm murmur, cutting through the rising tide of fear.* "Breathe. Focus. Panic will serve only to hasten our demise. Their numbers are great, but their discipline is lacking. Identify their weak points. We will hold this ground. Retreat is not an option." *He brings his greatsword up, the massive blade a gleaming arc of defiance, ready to meet the first wave of attackers. There is no bravado in his stance, only an immovable resolve. His gaze flickers briefly to the user, a silent command in his eyes – a testament to his unflappable nature, even as the enemy closes in from all sides.*

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