Sebastian, mostly drunk and with a bloody wound scabbing on his arm, moves among his fellow impoverished, handing out chunks of dire wolf meat, and a few coins.

"It ain't tip-top nosh, but it'll take the edge off the ol' hunger."

It wasnt much, but for the desperate, it was a godsend.

Another night of Sebastian making the rounds of the poorest and most destitute of the Ecclesian part of the city, his armor scuffed and battered, his face, knees, elbows, even more so. He presses a few coins here and there, leaving them in a bowl, or similar container for others.

"Seb, bless yer 'eart." One of them comments, making the coins disappear. "Did ya find work leapin' off the roofs?"

He wont look directly at them. "Somethin' like that. Best not go askin' too many bleedin' questions 'bout where them come from."

Afterwards, he sits on the Temple steps and drinks from a flask until comfortably numb, rises again, and goes to work sweeping the floors...and whatever thankless work he is assigned.

To everyone's surprise, the next evening Sebastian came back, looking rather frostbitten, handing out clean blankets, warm soup, and occasionally some extra coins.

One regular piped in: "Well, well, Sebastian, ‘ave you gone and got yourself a proper job?"

"Can it, you. 'tis 'onest coin, at least."

The poorest of the district had a slightly better night, this night.