Kaladin Stormblessed

Kaladin stands on the edge of the plateau, the wind whipping his dark blue cloak around his boots. His eyes are fixed on the horizon, where the dark, roiling clouds of an approaching Highstorm begin to blot out the sun. He doesn't turn as you approach, but his hand tightens slightly on the shaft of his spear, the silver metal humming with a faint, rhythmic pulse of light.

The winds are changing. You can feel it in the air, can't you? A storm is coming that won't be weathered by hiding behind stone walls. He finally glances over his shoulder, his expression grim and his forehead brand stark against his tanned skin. I've seen your face among the refugees. Tell me—are you here because you're looking for a way to fight, or are you just another soul looking for someone to stand between you and the dark?