I'm back where I belong

[qunari]

WHO: Iron Bull and YOU
WHAT: Bull returns to Skyhold. Where did he go? Maybe you should find out.
WHEN: 22nd of Haring
WHERE: Tavern, then training yard.
NOTES: Will update as needed.

Skyhold was certainly a welcome sight to return to. More so his corner in the tavern, still left unoccupied and ready to be settled into. Oh, Orlais had its perks. He'd brought back a few things from the capital after his stay there on 'business', in fact. But this place suited him in a way the gilded halls of the masked empire never could.

Bull could be found in the Herald's Rest through most of the day, eased back into the biggest chair the place had to offer, helping himself to enough drinks to down a small regiment of soldiers, occasionally flirting with the serving girl as she comes around for drinks, because why not? There was time enough to take it easy, to gover things with the Chargers to see what had happened in his absence, trading tales with barks of laughter that bounced against the wooden rafters of the tavern with ease.

The drinks definitely helped, where unwinding was concerned. So too did heading out to the ring to knock the boys around some, reminding them that break time was over. Krem still needed to work on blocking that shield bash, after all. And if anyone else wanted a swing at the Bull?

Hey. He wouldn't say no.

Comments

[ombranera]

Now there's a new face- or rather an old face having wandered back after such a time as to be new again. Zevran had seen the Bull wandering about in his earliest days but never truly approached; the Charger was massive and had his hands full in his own affairs- but tonight?

He did not strike Zevran as a man overburdened with urgent purpose. After a set (a rather light hearted one as that seemed to be the mood), Zevran wove his way across to sit opposite the Qunari, bearing the gift of another round. "I was tasked with bringing this over, lest you make the serving girl swoon with your next line."

[qunari]

The Qunari regards him quietly for a moment, that gray eyes searching, before his lips crook upwards. Well now. That's interesting. "Nah. She'd have been fine. If I was interested in getting her off her feet, it wouldn't be with a line," Bull replied, those massive shoulders rolling in a shrug. "Pretty sure she wouldn't have said no, though."

And with that he reached for the drink, tipping it towards the elf. There was hesitation on the initial drink, however. Anyone who takes a swig without pause when given a drink by an assassin is kinda asking for it. No offense to the elf, but he's still mulling over his odds.

"Get tired of staring from the corner, did you?"

[ombranera]

"Perhaps I wanted an excuse to be the one to get a line, mm?" He's been watching, been aware of being watched, and had his fun with the observation game. Engaging, now, that is the truly fun part. He lifts his own glass to The Iron Bull and settles back in a lounge that leaves him less sitting and more draped artfully across the chair, head angled so, knees tipped just this far apart, loose and languid and thoroughly inviting.

"There are worse things to stare at, you must admit. And I will have to say I've been thoroughly intrigued."

[qunari]

Whatever he's picked up from Zevran in the past thirty seconds seems to be enough to put him at ease, enough to finally accept that drink in full. Same shit he usually drinks here, but this exchange isn't really about drinks, is it? Not with that honied gaze leveled at him from the elf seated across from him.

One healthy swig later and the tankard clunks against the scrubbed-wood surface of the table. "Yeah. I get that a lot." Not bragging, that tone, just matter-of-fact. "You folks don't see many of us, and fewer that aren't actively looking to bust that pretty skull of yours open."

The smirk broadens. "Don't think that'd scare you off, though. Not right away."

[ombranera]

It'd be impolitic to poison someone from the Herald's inner circle. Moreover he isn't crazy- the amount he'd need in the right concentration would be impossible to make undetectable and even then? It might not work. Qunari he has killed in such a way before but never one quite so massive, nor massively gorgeous.

"I am rarely frightened by things that wish to kill me. More often than not I tend to find people that are capable all the more exciting." If they are being honest- and if the rumors of Bull being Ben Hassrath are true? Playing coy isn't likely going to work or be too terribly fun for either of them. And this is about fun, after all. No reason to make things complicated.

[wickedchase]

"The return of the Iron Bull."

It's spoken in faint amusement as Twisted Fate approaches the Qunari. They'd never met face-to-face, but it's a little hard to not know about the Ben-Hassrath as part of the Inquisition. He's seen a few Vashoth and Tal-Vashoth, but to actually meet a Qunari is a rarity indeed.

And one with an easy to remember name.

"Welcome back," Twisted Fate says, tilting his head with a little smile. "Don't suppose I could buy you a round?"

[qunari]

"What, did I go somewhere?"

It's a deflection, humorous as it is. He's got no intent of talking about his trip outside those who need to know, for whatever reason. But no reason to be unfriendly. The offer of a drink gets Bull lifting his boot, pushing the leg of a nearby chair out in offering.

"Don't know what you heard about me, but it takes a lot for me to turn down a free drink."

Which is his way of saying yes and sit all at once.

[wickedchase]

"If you did not, then I'm curious as to where one could hide all of you," he remarks, grinning.

Fortunately, Twisted Fate isn't interested in asking about the mission. If he needed to know, he'd have been informed, and that isn't the case here. Instead, he's sitting down at the chair pushed out for him.

"Then I won't worry about giving you a reason. Please, order whatever you'd like."

[qunari]

Oh. It's gonna be like that?

Bull grins a little wider and motions one of the girls over. "My friend here's buying. Two tankards of Maraas-Lok, from the back."

This guy wants to drink with Iron Bull? He's got it. Time to see how he does with it.

[wickedchase]

Well, he knows what the is, and as soon as he hears Maraas, he tries not to cringe when Bull gets to Lok. Twisted Fate knows he's in for hell of a night at this point, and he's going to be lucky if he can walk out of the tavern after one tankard.

Alas. This is the fate he's submitted himself to. No pun intended.

"Good thing I brought my staff," he muses to himself. "I'll need three legs instead of two after this, I think."

Not that he's new to drinking, but he knows that the Maraas-Lok is going to do a number.

[liberalum]

It's something of a pleasant surprise to see the familiar configuration of squareish horns and heavy slabs of muscle take up room in the Skyhold courtyard. There are several people who would make for pleasant surprises upon sight, which is, for Dorian, the most surprising part of this at all, and that one of them might be Iron Bull-- well, that's ridiculous.

But so it goes.

It's a little bit how he feels for much of the old inner circle, for all that the Herald's death has since dispersed it every which way, and he'd put the Iron Bull out of his mind almost completely since his departure. But now, as Dorian walks the battlements and spies the qunari below, finishing up with someone game enough to spar, he leans his elbows against the grey stone and watches from on high, cattish in his interested remove.

By the time Bull has finished, he will hear the slow, lazy clap from several feet above.

"What? No encore?" Dorian asks, affecting disappointment, hands folding back together. "You've not gotten lazy, have you? I would have imagined that match to end at least two seconds earlier than it did."

[qunari]

Dorian. Previously 'the Vint', though not as Vint-y as the rest of them, which stands in his favor. He's actually not that bad a guy, behind the pretense of fangs one needs to survive in the Imperium. Bull's actually glad to see he stuck around, in spite of...well. Everything.

The staff he'd been wielding stabs into the dirt, becoming something of a leaning post as he cocks his head, grinning up at the walkway. "You want more of a show, big guy, you're gonna have to bring me some more volunteers. Think I might have broke the last one."

The jab about finishing up earlier goes unremarked. After all, it's only fair to give his opponent a sporting chance. He'd stepped into the ring knowing he was going to get beaten down, but he'd done it anyway. That gained him a modicum of respect, and a little leeway.

Not much. But more than nothing.

[liberalum]

Dorian huffs a laugh, sardonic and dry. "So good to have you back with us. I know the Commander simply loves his troops tenderised."

A vein of amusement is bright enough to make the remark more teasing than snooty, but there's plenty of that too. He tips a look up at the wider courtyard, listening a moment to the usual background ambiance of blunt swords striking together, staves clacking, arrows thudding into targets. Iron Bull likely doesn't lack for sparring partners when he wants them, even outside his Chargers, but today, they must be shy.

Or maybe Dorian is casting a shadow, with his voice that carries. Not everyone has worked out he's not that bad a guy. "There's a little project due to begin. Combat training, for Templars and mages. That'll be show enough."

[qunari]

Bull's lips thin slightly, the lines around his face a little harder. "Yeah. Heard you guys had an incident while I was gone. As many untrained mages as we've got, I'm just surprised it didn't happen sooner."

There's no smugness or joy in that statement. People are hurt and a kid's dead because of demons. There's no joke to be made out of that. Just deflection.

He cocks his head slightly, a half-smirk waiting there on the edge of his mouth. "You gonna take your turn in the ring, then? Show the kids how it's done back in Tevinter?"

An opportunity to show off and earn some goodwill all at once? Wouldn't be the worst thing he could do for himself.

[liberalum]

The direction of conversation takes a little shine out of the bright day and easy humour, but only a little; Dorian's eyes hood in reflection. He hadn't been here either, actually, but only for a little day-long jaunt through the Frostbacks. With his one step of removal, he doesn't immediately think of the poor young man who died -- and the others who died at his hand -- so much of the sheer inconvenience it's thrown into the political dialogue.

None of which he feels as though he ought to go on about here, to Iron Bull, from the ramparts.

"I've been doing that," he counters, gamely, instead, a foot kicked over an ankle behind him in his lean over the stone. "Granted, swatting at these southern mages with magicless wooden sticks can hardly be called how it's done in Tevinter, but it's a start. They'll be battlemages yet," sounds a note sarcastic, but not as much as it could be. Bull is right; it's good for appearances. But he wouldn't commit energy to appearances only.

"No, Knight-Captain Hill and I are looking into getting in some actual training, with whatever willing Templars wish also to exercise their own unique skills. Our enemies are, after all, full of mages and Templars as well. If we're lucky, it might build some mutual respect. If we're unlucky, well, Maker knows the worst has already happened."

He'll probably come down soon.

[eolasemah]

Sina was back to making her deliveries, however long it took her now that she was recovering from her shard's minute reaction to the abomination. It was the only circumstance under which she'd ever enter the Herald's Rest, which she tended to avoid due to its abundance of drunk people and loud noises.

She was making her way toward the stairs with her basket, humming faintly to herself, when she passed easily the biggest qunari she'd ever seen (and she hadn't seen many). She couldn't help but stop and stare, but caught herself in time and hurried up the stairs. On her way back down she stole another glance, and while making her deliveries seemed to keep making excuses to catch a glimpse of the grim-looking fellow. She clearly found him fascinating, but too intimidating to approach.

[qunari]

'Intimidating' was one of the main reasons he made such a successful mercenary. He wasn't exactly shying away from the image, but this was no battlefield. This was as sedate as he was ever likely to be, enjoying his drink and chatting amiably with those nearby.

He'd caught sight of her, alright. The way she scurried away and peered down from the upper levels. But that wasn't all that uncommon a reaction, and you didn't go chasing them down hoping to change their minds about you. His gaze flickered her direction just the once.

Then he'd taken another drink of his ale, and that seemed that.

[eolasemah]

Once her errands were finally complete, Sina decided it was time to finally be brave. She approached him with a timid smile, basket in hands, and carefully extended a packet for him to take.
"Hello," she said with a practiced air, "are you... well you must be..!" She looked aside, beginning to lose her nerve. "This is for you. Welcome back to Skyhold." She wondered if she should call him ser, a thing people did sometimes, but it felt too unnatural.

The packet contained a tea blended for the easing of sore muscles, one she tended to give out to returning soldiers and fighters.

[qunari]

So she did mean to come back around. It was obviously an effort for her. Naturally timidness probably wasn't helped by that particular brand of nervousness she was sporting. When she edged closer he remained still, one brow raised, making little effort to appear any more intimidating than she might already find him.

One hand reaches for the packet, drawing it in with a faint sniff. Tea, then. He's not really a fan of the stuff, but the gesture can certainly be appreciated. "You giving this to all the boys here, or just the ones that make you nervous?" he chuckles, the noise low in his throat.

"Relax. I'm not going to eat you."

[eolasemah]

Sina blushed at his comment and covered her mouth in a mix of horror and amusement that he'd think she was flirting with him, but she moved past it well enough.
"I'd just... heard you were a friend of the Herald's, and that you've been out doing work for the Inquisition." She held the basket awkwardly in front of her with both hands. "It's... I'm... I never met her, but I believe in the things you're doing." She looked down and away, worried she was overstepping somehow. He was important, after all, who was she to just go walking up to people?
"You're busy," she decided, "I'm sorry. I'll go."

[amygdalae]

"Welcome back."

Bruce waits for Bull to be done with his latest training session before saying that. Even from where he was standing at the edge of the training yard Bull was already pretty massive, but to be fair all full grown Qunari were massive. Bull just had a way of making that massiveness... even more noticeable. Maybe it was just how he was.

He only steps closer once he's sure that Bull isn't going to keep swinging that giant weapon of his, glancing up at the Qunari and giving a small smile. "I guess your mission went well, then? Unless of course you're hitting things to blow off steam."

[qunari]

"Could have been worse."

The details of which will be forthcoming, when they can be of use. Not before. Still, it costs nothing to say they more or less got what they were after in Orlais. "Doesn't mean I'm not glad to be back," he admits with a shrug. "I've done bodyguard work for Orlesians before. Never really been my favorite line of work."

The Game usually has a way of making the little people who get caught up in it suffer the most. It's all political bullshit. Much simpler when he can just take a swing at things.

[amygdalae]

"I suppose you can't hit things as much when you're a bodyguard." And considering how the people of Orlais usually were, it was safe to guess the nature of the job as well. Politics were something Bruce would never really quite get - or rather, would never bother himself with understanding. There were more important things than one's reputation.

"Still, congratulations are in order, all the same." His smile grew a little then, and Bruce inclined his head. "Will you be sent on another mission soon? Or are you back for a longer period of time?" He wouldn't be too surprised if it was the former, but though the rest of the Chargers wouldn't say it, Bruce was sure they missed having their leader around.

[qunari]

"Think I'll stick around. You folks sound like you're having all the fun without me."

His fingers drummed loosely against the table, twice, before Bull shifted in his seat. The whole business with demons and abominations and such? He couldn't say he'd missed being around for that. But it'd be good to know he was where he could do the most good. If that meant here? So be it.

Not to mention he was still smarting from the last job as a bodyguard he'd had, prior to the nobleman. Wasn't much he could have done, admittedly, but the loss of the Inquisitor weighed as heavily on him as it did the others in her circle.

[amygdalae]

That comment got out a tiny little chuckle from Bruce, and the wryness on his expression was plenty visible as he replied. "As fun as it can be, I suppose. Although personally it would be nice to not see any more of said fun for a while."

Especially things Abomination-related. What had happened only all too recently was still hanging fresh in the minds of many people, and now there were a fair bit of marks in the hall and the garden as evidence on what transpired that night.