I. OPEN.

[liberalum]

WHO: Dorian Pavus and other less dashing people.
WHAT: Training in a courtyard; other pre-planned threads.
WHEN: Firstfall in general.
WHERE: Skyhold, an open courtyard.
NOTES: Below are some open prompts for those who wish for a run in during Mage Fight Club aka How To Train Your Wizard aka How We Do In Tevinter. Catch him during, before, after. Note that there isn't magic being flung around (yet), it's fairly ordinary. This will also be a general dumping ground for individual pre-planned threads that need a home.

[ There is a courtyard within Skyhold, as dilapidated as the rest, that is one day going to be a garden. For now, it's a good enough retreat for the rebel mages that lies aside from the training grounds often dominated by the less magical. The ground is mud and weeds, and the sky is open above them, and a tree with orange leaves frames the shapes of mountains beyond.

Sometimes, Dorian trains on his own. There is a dance-like grace to the movements of staff and the man wielding it, feet light on the ground and tracking circles in the mud, following the heavy swing of seven feet of solid oak. He follows practiced motions, sans the presence of actual magic. A twirl of his staff over head, the thick sounding thud of the blunt end slamming into the dense earth, and sharper, quicker movements for what would likely be sharper, quicker spellwork. Sometimes he is observed. Sometimes he is not. Regardless as to status of audience, he definitely likes to show off.

Sparring, equally. The clak-clak-thud of wooden staves meeting, locking, scraping together as he and another willing mage practice their more ordinary skills. Sometimes he loses, and often he wins, graceful in victory and defeat.

Unless he is knocked off his feet, or earns himself a bruise, then he might curse their mother.

And there are other times, later times, when he shifts into a role of teacher. Not all mages are trained in combat, after all, and some may like to learn -- even from a Tevinter. (Maybe especially from a Tevinter, but who would admit that out loud?) He demonstrates, slowly, staff work, guides those willing to listen and imitate with a certain educated patience, the occasional funny remark about turning their feet out. Sometimes, these sessions are simply standing about, and he explains with big words and big hand gestures the way one might finesse certain spells in combat situations.

He takes breaks, in between and after, perched atop crumbled stone with one leg across the other -- watching and thinking. ]

Comments

[el_tybs]

[Was that a smile? Maybe this wasn't going as bad as he thought. A smile slowly creeps up on his face as well, though he doesn't move to come any closer.]

Unfortunately, I cannot do much about the height which was why I thought being smaller would help. Guess not. Least I'm smaller than a Qunari? [Not that that helped much, but he was smaller then most of them.]

[mythalenaste]

[Ahhh now she's thinking of Taas. Who is two feet taller than she is, as opposed to this shrimp, who is one foot taller. The smile stays, though it's more in her eyes than mouth.]

You're not used to elves.

[el_tybs]

I'm not used to Dalish elves. I knew a decent amount of elves in the Circle, but that's completely different.

[It's true. Elves in general were not a new thing to him, but his only experience with them was in the Circle. The Dalish were an entirely different thing. And then there was Zevran. That had been... rough to say the least.]

[mythalenaste]

Well...it sort of helps, with anyone, to pretend they're the same height as you are.

[el_tybs]

[He chuckles and rubs the back of his head at that.]

I will try to keep that in mind.

[The height difference doesn't bother him much, but when you're physically looking down at someone he's found out it can be taken rather literally.]

Sorry if it's weird, but... you sound awfully familiar.

[mythalenaste]

[She ducks her head a little.]

I accidentally spoiled Swords and Shields for the entirety of Skyhold the other day.

[el_tybs]

[There's a pause.] OH!

[Now there's a huge grin on his face.]

That's right! Course I haven't read it so it didn't spoil much.

[mythalenaste]

[Pel smiles.]

It's not very good. Not like Hard in Hightown. Fanciful, but...anyway, that's me. Clumsy mage can't even work a sending-stone properly.

[el_tybs]

[To be honest he only knows the book by name and nothing else.]

To be honest I don't think any of us knew how they worked. Way to go taking one for the team.

[mythalenaste]

[The smile broadens.]

I thought a lot of people would say it's something about the Dalish not being educated enough.

[el_tybs]

[He blinks at that. He's honestly seeing more of what Zevran had referred to when they had spoken.]

Well I'm not like a lot of other people. [A pause and a growing smile.] Samouel by the way. And the name for the lovely voice responsible for communication stone mishaps is...?

[mythalenaste]

[People can be so nice here.]

Pel.

[Shut up, she actually likes her name.]

[el_tybs]

[It's a nice name.]

Pel. So I take it you're from Clan Ashara?

[mythalenaste]

[A pause.]

How did you know?

[el_tybs]

I've already met with a few of your clanmates. Your name got mentioned.

[Was it weird that he would know?]

[mythalenaste]

[Squiiiint.]

Who?

[She can't imagine any of her clanmates might have occasion to mention her.]

[el_tybs]

[Why does he keep getting himself into these situations?]

I met Cyril at the tavern a while ago - he kind of surprised me and I fell off a chair. He mentioned there was a group of you that came to Skyhold and I was curious and got some names.

[mythalenaste]

[Okay, it's not Gavin. Sylaise knows what he says.]

He's my cousin. [She says it proudly, like it's a rare thing.] He hit on you, I assume.

[el_tybs]

[He chuckles lightly at that.]

Ah... yeah. He did.

[Not this time around, but did. So he's not lying.]

I've already been informed that he kind of does that. A lot.

[mythalenaste]

To be fair, he does have standards. The Inquisition's male population is just...exceptionally handsome.

[A quiet, careful compliment.]

[el_tybs]

Ah. Hmm.

[Sam rubs the back of his neck nervously at that, not often used to compliments of that nature. He honestly hopes he's not blushing by a simple thing.]

I suppose that is... true. I haven't actually kept count on that.