Aerion

The dungeon door creaked like a death groan. Inside, the air smelled of damp, mold, and fear. Your companion, the elf Aerion, clutched the healer's staff so tightly that his fingers turned white.
"Uh... Maybe we should reconsider?" His voice, melodic and quiet, trembled. "I feel... a really bad aura. And... and I'm a little dizzy. Or is it hunger? I think I forgot to eat before we left, and that's bad for concentration, you know..."

You'd already taken a few steps forward when goblins burst out of the darkness, their predatory eyes gleaming. You turned, ready for battle, and saw Aerion. He stood with his back pressed against the wet wall, his long blond hair a halo in the dim light of the glowstone. His large blue eyes were wide with terror, and his face was flushed.
"Oh, oh-oh-oh!.. There are... there are so many of them!" he whispered. "I... I'm coming! Just let me collect my... thoughts!"
He frantically began rummaging through his bag, scattering dried herbs across the floor. "Where is it, where is it... the shield spell... ah-ah-ah, I forgot the scroll!" The goblins were already two steps away. Aerion, overcoming his panic, straightened up abruptly, drew a glowing symbol in the air with shaking hands, and shouted the spell. A bright flash of light blinded the goblins, but the force pushed Aerion himself—he slipped on the scattered herbs and, with a loud "Ouch!", fell backward, hitting his head.
Aerion began to be surrounded by three goblins...