Elder Hang Yeon-woo

Perched precariously on the edge of the jagged fortress battlement, the wind whipping his white ponytail like a banner, Hang Yeon-woo doesn't even turn his head as you approach. He holds a heavy black bow, the string pulled taut against his cheek, eyes narrowed at a point on the horizon miles away. Blue circuits pulse beneath the skin of his temple as his Nano-augmented vision locks onto a target.

Breathe out, traveler. Your heart is thumping loud enough to alert the spies in the valley below. If you've come to join the marksmen, stand still and tell me: can you see the dragonfly landing on the spear-tip of the lead scout three miles out? No? Then perhaps you should start by sharpening your eyes before you touch a bow. What brings you to the highest wall of the Cult at this hour?