Captain Martin Walker (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sandsofhell) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
faderift2015-11-01 01:21 pm
sandsofhell) wrote in faderift2015-11-01 01:21 pm
Entry tags:
I'm gonna pop some tags...
WHO: Martin Walker and YOU!
WHAT: Looking over what you primitives call weapons.
WHEN: Before the Swamp thing.
WHERE: Wherever the quartermaster is.
NOTES: Nothing to really make note here, just him doing a bit of shopping and figuring what is best for him. Subject matter may change later to accompany depressing stuff depending on where dialogue leads to.
If someone decided to make a stop at ye olde quartermaster, they may find Martin looking contemplative over the various wares that are up for sale. He looks rather contemplative over what was offered, if a bit confused.
Much to the salesperson's evident chagrin.
His knife and hands have proven to be more than sufficient in dealing with most of anything that decided to come at him. But Walker was missing that familiar weight in his hands that only a gun could fill. Plus he eventually found himself wanting for something that gives him a bit more of a reach. At first he figured that a bow might be useful, but he's rarely, if ever actually had to use one. The last time he ever actually used one was during his survival training.
A crossbow could prove useful, especially against armored enemies, but would take time to reload. Unless of course, he could figure out how to jerry rig one to be a repeater, or find someone who could.
His eyes would then move over to the bladed weapons, looking over the various swords on offer before landing on the spears and staffs. "Mind if I try one of those real quick?"
Will you approach and offer your two-cents?
WHAT: Looking over what you primitives call weapons.
WHEN: Before the Swamp thing.
WHERE: Wherever the quartermaster is.
NOTES: Nothing to really make note here, just him doing a bit of shopping and figuring what is best for him. Subject matter may change later to accompany depressing stuff depending on where dialogue leads to.
If someone decided to make a stop at ye olde quartermaster, they may find Martin looking contemplative over the various wares that are up for sale. He looks rather contemplative over what was offered, if a bit confused.
Much to the salesperson's evident chagrin.
His knife and hands have proven to be more than sufficient in dealing with most of anything that decided to come at him. But Walker was missing that familiar weight in his hands that only a gun could fill. Plus he eventually found himself wanting for something that gives him a bit more of a reach. At first he figured that a bow might be useful, but he's rarely, if ever actually had to use one. The last time he ever actually used one was during his survival training.
A crossbow could prove useful, especially against armored enemies, but would take time to reload. Unless of course, he could figure out how to jerry rig one to be a repeater, or find someone who could.
His eyes would then move over to the bladed weapons, looking over the various swords on offer before landing on the spears and staffs. "Mind if I try one of those real quick?"
Will you approach and offer your two-cents?
no subject
They're executioners brought and hired by the Chantry under the pretenses of religious creed. With that in mind, it shouldn't come as such surprise while Alayre is quite scarce these days. The Knight-Commander has busied himself with work and honestly dedicated all of his time rebuilding the Order while managing a multitude of affairs at Skyhold.
He was in the middle of marching his way through the hold until he spots someone eyeing the armaments the Quartermaster has on display. Alayre eyes the man briefly for a moment as the gentleman inches closer to the swords. He figured that a man of his stature would be more fond of swords above all things else, especially since this man looks almost sturdy enough to wield a greatsword.
After some thought on his part, Alayre walks over quietly to observe. "Interested in the song of blades over the lull of spears?" He asks with a slight grin upon his face. The Knight-Commander is in full regalia from head-to-toe featuring the flaming sword of the Order upon his silver breastplate.
"If you're quick with your hands, mayhaps daggers or knives would suit you better than blades but knives lack reach."
no subject
Still having some length between himself and an opponent would be very much enjoyed by him. So he readily gripped a short spear, light in his hands and somewhat familiar. A spear is very much like a gun with a bayonet. Something that he can more easily use than a sword.
"Already have a knife." He grunted, testing out the chosen weapon, practicing a few thrusts and movements. He was clumsy at first but would quickly get the hang of it. "And don't really have the experience with the sword."
no subject
"I take it that your fondness for daggers stems from a more unorthodox form of combat?" As of now, Alayre has no idea that this man is a 'Rifter' and is actually disobeying one of Baratheon's many rules as of right now. Quite ironic, no? Sauveterre is the one who endorsed the idea of treating these rifters with suspicion until proven otherwise. However, it's honestly somewhat difficult to tell who's a rifter and who's native.
"Widen your feet a little and relax the tension in your shoulders, then swing again." He suggests with the finesse of a swordmaster.
no subject
"I'm not using a sword." He grunted, parrying an imaginary opponent before thrusting. It felt natural in his hands, like that of a gun. But also long and slightly more unwieldy. He was far more experienced in using smaller weapons that were still just as powerful and destructive as their larger counterparts.
"Is there any place around I can practice archery." From what he could tell, a crossbow is probably the closest thing to a gun that he will be able to find here. Not exactly ideal for him, but at the very least it helps give him some measure of choices.