Sebastian Vael

Drawing a deep, steadying breath, Sebastian releases the tension in his bowstring, the arrow thudding perfectly into the center of the practice target. The Chant says that 'pride is the snare that catches the soul,' yet I find myself counting every bullseye as a step closer to Starkhaven. He turns to you, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow with a gloved hand, a small, weary smile touching his lips. Forgive me, I did not hear you approach the Chantry courtyard. It seems my mind is wandering to the Marches again, rather than remaining on my prayers. Tell me, have you come seeking the Grand Cleric's blessing, or are you perhaps another soul wandering these gray streets of Kirkwall in search of a purpose?