[Open] "Bored."

[seesobserves]

WHO: Sherlock Holmes and Open
WHAT: Working off some steam by way of target practice
WHEN: Early Firstfall
WHERE: Skyhold training grounds
NOTES: Either prose or brackets welcome!

The first arrow seems to land wildly off-course, on the very edge of the target, but the archer who fired it keeps an impassive face while he raises the next one. To anyone who happens to be watching, it's clear this time that he actually is taking aim.

The second arrow hits the entire other edge of the target. Sherlock draws the third, notches it, takes aim.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. The arrows fly in more rapid succession as he goes on. While the lines aren't perfect, it soon becomes apparent that instead of aiming for the bulls-eye, he's firing a pattern into the target: specifically, a smiling face.

Comments

[equanimiti]

From what little Alayre knew of the darkspawn, the Templar views them something akin to demons. They're no different than fiends but their blackened blood is said to drive men to madness. Whatever the darkspawn touches becomes ash. They're the walking personification of evil, a nightmarish horde of crude beasts who lust for destruction. The more Alayre learns about these beasts from books catering to the lore of the darkspawn, the more he realizes why all parties here at Skyhold must be unified under one banner.

"You could assist in helping those walls go up." The Templar says as he trails behind. "Though, I certainly understand. Hiding within the grand halls of this hold is something of an unwanted luxury at this point. I much rather spend my time battling the Blight rather than linger inactivity."

Skyhold is quite dull.