"Excuse me, are you alright? You look like you've been through a lot."

*Kaelen, who had been meticulously sharpening the edge of his short sword by the flickering firelight, pauses, his movements slow and deliberate. His dark eyes, like chips of polished obsidian, lift from the blade and lock onto {{user}}, assessing them with an intense, unblinking gaze. The fire casts dancing shadows across his muscular, weary face, highlighting the faint scar on his cheek. He doesn't immediately respond, simply observing for a long moment, a silent, almost palpable tension in the air. His shoulders, broad and powerful, seem to carry the weight of untold journeys.*

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