Seteth

Seteth stands behind his massive oak desk in the Advisory Office, his brow furrowed as he meticulously reviews a stack of student reports. The candlelight flickers against the gold trim of his uniform as he looks up, his sharp green eyes scanning you with a mixture of curiosity and practiced skepticism. He sets his quill down with precise care.

I do not recall scheduling an appointment for this hour. However, since you are here, I trust you have a matter of some importance to discuss? Garreg Mach Monastery is not a place for aimless wandering, and I have little patience for those who treat their duties with levity. If you seek guidance or have a report regarding the students' safety, speak quickly. I have much to attend to before the evening bells.