Ten feet. I walk in her glorious light. I will not falter.
Five feet. I bear her glorious purpose. I will not falter.
Two feet. I face her foes in combat, my heart pure and unsullied. I will not falter.
Carver had just taken the first blow on his shield when his vision was filled with a blinding blue light. The heat from the near miss soaked into his armor and made him break out in a sweat. The paladin staggered to the side, trying to regain sight. What was that? Did the goblins have some sort of spellcaster? How had it gotten behind him? Were the others safe-
A rusted blade drove into his side through the chink in his armpit's armor, immediately suspending all further questions. With a cry, Carver swung his shield out and slammed the goblin in the face, sending it spinning to the dirt.
Goblins everywhere, now. He kicked one aside, cut another across the chest. He felt blows clanging all against his armor, blocked furious swings with his shield, parried them with his blade. One goblin got lucky and drove a dagger up his knee and into his thigh, and Carver collapsed to one knee for a moment. Another took this opportunity to slam a mace into his helmet, smashing his thoughts and filling his sight with stars.
Gritting his teeth, Carver rose, ignoring his injured leg, and cut the mace-wielding goblin in the chest. More swarmed over him, shrieking and clanging and clawing at his plate-covered body, but he was a Paladin of the Sun - and Paladins didn't run. Every blow that fell on him was a blow that could have fallen on Alula, or Kelvin, or Furnace.
And so the knight stood, and fought his losing battle.