Terrence stares at Kabberllee in awe. Words cannot form quick enough to make any sense and the sounds of gibberish and stutters fall from his lips. He lowers his bow as she never seemed hostile. Relieved after her talk he follows her inside. He listens very attentively and when she brings up the old lady as wash of bravery hits him straight in the chest. T’alen volunteers but the second he finishes speaking Terrence stands from his chair and says..
No!! T’alen you must stay here where your skills will be better suited. I am the person who should go. I cannot cleave these foul creatures with a single swing or crush them like our barbarian friend. I dont have battlefield skills. But what I do have are a very particular set of skills; skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like them. I can sneak through their lines if need be. I will bring the widow Selma back. This I swear on my life.
Terrence stands proudly and confident in himself and his abilities. Looks to Matrim and Kabberllee for a response.