faderift | That's a shield in your hand, block with it!

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That's a shield in your hand, block with it!

WHO: Cullen Rutherford and you!
WHAT: Cullen's decided to step in and get hands-on when training some of the newer recruits.
WHEN: Mid-Haring
WHERE: Training Grounds, around Skyhold
NOTES: Obviously after the Abomination attack. Apparently distractions, people falling off walls, who knows.

Cullen had been down in the Training grounds this early winter morn, for several reasons, actually. One was to make sure that they were keeping up to pace with where they should be, and two, to make sure that the older soldiers kept up their training. They did not want to be caught unprepared with anything that should happen outside or within Skyhold. They should be prepared for anything, including one of their own falling victim to anything that should happen.

A few of the newer recruits couldn't tell the hilt from the pointy-end, and even after explaining that 'you stick someone with the pointy end,' a few of them might be lost causes. Not everyone is good at first, he has to remind himself, and instead takes a sword from an older soldier to explain what he does. "Grip it firmly, but allow it to move with you. Too firm a grip could be a downfall."

He shows the recruit a few ways to stand while holding the sword, placing his feet shoulder-width apart to make sure that he plants his feet for better footing. A few good swings and thrusts, then add the shield in. You block with it, obviously, but they're used to push enemies off. The hands on approach seem to be working with the new recruits until someone asks for a demonstration, and while Cullen is all too fine to bow out, some of the elder soldiers try to egg their Commander on until he relents. Despite the chill in the air, Cullen disrobes and removes his armor as well, allowing him full movement to show the recruits his actions. They form a circle around the Commander and someone brave enough to go up against him. It's a quick battle to the spectators, but throughout Cullen is giving advice to the man up against him. The soldier ends up on his back, but with constructive criticism. More offer to step into the ring with the Commander, and in each spar, he shows the recruits what needs to be done in order to not get killed.

Feel free to watch the sparring, challenge the Commander, offer pointers to the recruits, or catch Cullen afterwards.

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Now this was a show- Zevran himself had been sharpening his daggers while watching the recruits spar or- well. Attempt to spar. Seeing Cullen wade into the fray is reason enough to keep watching. When the opportunity opens for someone to step into the circle with him he simply cannot help himself. He sheathes his daggers and saunters his way through the crowd, tapping Cullen's elbow.

"Might I have the next dance?" Nevermind that he's mostly in Cullen's space, eyes golden and warm underneath his eyelashes. Teasing, purely teasing. "So that your men might see what it is to go against a truly deft and dexterous opponent."

Attempt is the key word. Many of the recruits had never held a sword before joining the Inquisition, and while he was grateful for the amount of troops they currently had - some was better than none, after all - he did worry about the state of the army. If Corypheus and his lieutenants figured this out, they would surely attack.

He finds himself nearly rolling his eyes at Zevran, but this could definitely be what he needs to show the recruits. The Commander takes a moment to wipe at the sweat on his brow with the sleeve of his shirt, then steps back, swinging his sword to loosen his arm. "Of course." A beat. "Of course, only if you can keep up."

"I shall endeavor to try. Perhaps you can show me how it is done?" Zevran stepped into the circle properly, unsheathing his shortswords. It has been some time since he's faced a templar trained individual, most of his foes have been bandits, brigands, or Crows; but warriors outright? Not terribly many. A solid year of sparring with Alistair gave him a sound understanding of their basic moves.

So long as he recalls that? He should manage well enough.

Anyone who has spent considerable time down at the training grounds will have noticed a familiar sight: that of an elf watching the sparring like a spectator sport. Sometimes she's alone, but other days there is a male elf with her, and they stare and gossip together over the fine form of the participants. Today it's just Ellana, no Cyril in sight, and she's surprised to see the Commander here giving pointers. But she likes that he is. It shows that he cares about the Inquisition's troops and making them into the best soldiers they possibly can be. It shows to others that the Inquisition is serious about dealing with the chaos spreading throughout southern Thedas.

Early on, Ellana realized she should probably contribute something to those sparring beyond admiring their forms, so she now fills a bucket from the well and hauls it along with a ladle to the training grounds to offer them cool water once they've finished. Since Cullen has gone ahead and joined in, she approaches him once he's finished, carrying the bucket handle with both hands and walking awkwardly. People are used to the sight by now, though it still grants her a few chuckles.

"Would you like some water, Commander?"

Cullen's become astutely aware of some of the onlookers, but he takes no mind of it. He'd like to hope that most of them were looking on to gather some pointers, but deep down, he does know what they're all there for.

Cullen does care deeply for the recruits, new and old alike. Anyone who would come to lay down their lives for a cause like the Inquisition deserved no greater love and respect. He's heard from plenty of reports that many think a Templar, one of the most trained soldiers in all of Thedas, was good to train the Inquisition's forces. He could argue that, but he won't.

He steps back from the last spar, wiping at his brow. He hasn't trained like this in some time, and while he won't admit it, he misses it. Ellana's grated a smile when she approaches. "I would love some, thank you."

"Here you are, then." She offers a ladle full of cool water to him. While he drinks up, she glances around them at the new recruits and seasoned soldiers alike who are stretching, cleaning their weapons, or packing it all up to take back to their tents.

"Will you be heading back into battle when the time comes?" she asks curiously. It's not clear to her how a mainly human force handles battles. That's not something she's ever really bothered to read about.

Being an apostate in Kirkwall had always meant dodging Templars as much as possible. It had meant that even more after Hawke sided with the mages. Everyone had known Cullen, though not quite as much as everyone had known Meredith -- no one, as far as Merrill knew, had told the children scary stories about Cullen (though if they had, they were likely overshadowed by those of Meredith). Here and now, though, she's more comfortable; there are no Circles, and while blood magic is still something most people are wary of, it's not like she's ever taken over someone's mind with it. She doesn't ever intend to, either.

Watching the soldiers train is interesting in more ways than one, and after one particularly impressive spar, Cullen may here Merrill clapping and cheering from outside the ring.

"Good job, both of you!"

Kirkwall was... complicated, in Cullen's eyes. After Hawke had become Champion, the "order" to leave his companions alone had been given pretty discreetly to members of the Order there. He's never had any problem with Hawke's companions, save for Anders which is a completely different story. And while Meredith was the one everyone had been warned about, Cullen wasn't exactly the nicest back then either. Thankfully that's changed, but some stigma last even when you move on from them.

Cullen takes a moment to break away from the sparring to catch his breath. The cheering is something he's not too accustomed to. "Thank you for your support."

If there is one thing Merrill does understand, it's fear. Fear of magic, of spirits, of humans and Templars and a dozen other things -- her life had been filled with stories of caution, of moving to avoid threats that the clan couldn't face. And then she had met Hawke, and while the fear was still there and still something she and everyone else had to face, she had been able to fight back. She had been able to follow her own path, despite the fear. She thinks Cullen, now, may be doing the same.

He gets a smile, at least, Merrill leaning against the railing with her staff strapped to her back. "You're welcome! Everyone needs it, after all." Even fearsome former Templars and raw Inquisition recruits. "I liked the thing you did with your shield." Whichever one of a dozen possible things that may have been.

"Such tireless efforts, Commander."

Dorian's voice snakes into hearing range around when Cullen is finishing up. He must have at least caught the last of it, his posture that of someone having stopped to watch, although when he appeared is impossible to say. "With any luck, Corypheus will be defeated when engaged in swordplay, and all of this will have paid off."

His humour has run a little caustic lately, but it still is that: humour. He pushes out of his lean, wandering over.

"If only it will be that easy, Dorian. If only."

He hands the sword he had been using off to the soldier he had borrowed it from, There's a quick murmured thank you, and Cullen breaks away from the recruits to leave them to train.

"Unfortunately I fear it will be much harder."

Many of them were rather much older than they should have been for such training, knowing full well that he and the good commander were plucked up as young boys. Neither one of them children perhaps, but they were both young enough that learning came a bit easier, they still had the stamina and the youthful determination that helped when training at this level. There was nothing wrong with the way in which Cullen trained the new recruits, it was very much in line with certain Templar strategies that Michel, himself, was rather familiar. He'd made himself familiar in the ways in which Templars and even Grey Wardens fought, he made it a point to be as it rounded him off.

After the...vigorous...and no doubt frustrating round of training, Michel felt obliged to approach the Commander. As a man who provided his own counsel to the Inquisition, he wouldn't be surprised if Cullen was in need of an ear from a like-minded soul, and while Michel knew it wasn't his place he certainly couldn't help himself as he fell into step with the other man, "I beg your pardon for saying so...but they are very raw, Monsieur. Men like us, we have trained for years to attain such a level of skill...I have to wonder if they'll be ready for what they have to face in short order."

Truthfully, Cullen would rather have trained men for the Inquisition. Men like him and Michel, men who have been trained since childhood to hold a sword and trained for battle. It would be so much easier in the months ahead where they will be facing corrupted templars and mages alike. Sadly, Cullen can't complain. The Inquisition takes what it can get at the moment, while it is still in its infancy and trying to get enough clout to gain proper soldiers from alliances.

Training was always frustrating. Always. "Too raw, I fear," Cullen admits, a bit too honestly. The man next to him knows what kind of soldiers they need if they are going to win the war. "I can only hope they'll be ready. They're eager to learn, so I pray that this training sticks with them."

Bruce waits until Cullen is done with the recruits before he approaches him, mostly because he doesn't want to get in the way, and also because he knows better than to interrupt the entire thing. With the whole abomination incident the guards are more riled up than ever, and the need for vigilance is much more important now than it has ever been.

"Commander Rutherford," he starts, polite as always as he approaches him. He's got his usual supplies as well as a list in his hand, which is par of the course now for almost every time he talks to him. "If you have a moment...?"

Cullen sends the latest group of recruits away, making sure that the senior soldiers in charge know exactly what they need to be working on. Every group seems to be different; and while Cullen wants to spend all day with each and every group, he knows he needs to prioritize and delegate. As much as he wants to, he cannot do everything himself.

"Bruce, yes." He's come to know Bruce as a good colleague, someone of value to the Inquisition. He's been down around the healing tents and they all have nothing but great things to say in regards to the man. "What can I help you with?"

"It's nothing too immediate, just--" Here he hesitates for a moment, remembering the fact that the Commander had been involved in the thick of the whole Abomination business. But it would be unfair to keep anything from the Commander, and he does deserve to know.

He straightens up a bit more with that decision in mind, passing the list over for him to take. "--the list of casualties and the deceased from the incident, sir. For your reference."

Katniss had been hanging around Skyhold for a few days, waiting to see if she could find a way for them to save the villagers. Perhaps with magic, or not magic, or prayer. As it was, she was currently trying to track down the Commander, and was coming from the Great Hall when she saw one of his messengers -- what was that man's name?

Oh, forget it. "Messenger!"

The messenger paused as Katniss approached, blinking at her, "Yes, ah, Scout Everdeen?"

"Have you seen the Commander?" Katniss asked, putting as much professional briskness in her voice as possible.

"Oh! Yes, he's down in the training circle, working with the new recruits." He nodded towards the front steps, "Right down there -- watch the fourth step on the second flight down, I think it's broken."

"Thanks." She nodded, before scanning the circle to see if she could spot Cullen -- and she did. Sans armor ... sweating, going through what looked like a dance with sword and shield ... hair mussed, light in his eyes and ...

She completely missed that fourth step, and found herself stumbling right down the stairs, right towards the very hard stone railing.

Time slowed as panic immediately evaporated to thought, as training and muscle memory took over. Control the fall. Ara's voice, clear as a bell, and so she tucked her head in and turned it into a roll, then as she came to the landing, thrust out with her feet to send her up to the stone railing, flipping up. Zevran's voice was next, smooth as butter, Make it look good, Bella.

So she used her arms to balance on the stone railing before pushing herself up and over, so she could do one more flip and land in the midst of the now gawking-at-her recruits, and one of them pointed at her ... with the pointy end of the sword, nearly taking off her head. She rolled out of the way, coming into a ready crouch as she gave the soldier a wry look as she straightened, slightly breathless.

"Try not to point and gape with a naked weapon in your hand." She advised, putting one hand on her hip as Mia coached her in her head, Composure, dear, always composure. "I like my head where it is."

The soldier stared at her, stared at the sword, and then turned to look plaintively at the Commander. "Ser? How are we s'pposed to hit someone who does something like that?"

Katniss looked towards Cullen, and something of a mischievous feeling slipped through her as she stated, "Well, I am sure the Commander could show you some moves, if he wants to use those moves on me."

Edited 2015-12-24 02:29 (UTC)

Half of the recruits have the gall to stop mid-training to stare at the entire spectacle, and when it's all over, instead of outright responding to anything, Cullen simply laughs. He can't help it. It was a wonderful recovery on her part, something he was sure that only Zevran could have done.

"If you're complaining now about that, then you'll have no chance against the Red Templars in the field, soldier."

Cullen smirks at her remark, "Are you volunteering to demonstrate, Scout Everdeen?"

Now that was something he could do more of. Along with the wearing of less armor and the sweating. She was glad she was already flushed, no one could see her blushing. She tilted her her to the side, seemingly to think about it before she moved towards the training circle.

"Certainly, Commander." She leaned on the railing for a moment, meeting his smirk with one of her own. "I volunteer as tribute."

Then she grabbed the railing and jumped over, nothing fancy. She had the feeling she was going to need the energy. "Would you prefer with or without the bow?"

"Whoa..."

He probably should have said something more creative or, even more intelligent than that. But hey, he doesn't really expect anyone to hear him. Or see him. In fact, he's sort of hoping for that -- given how the Not-Quite-A-Qunari dragged him in here half frozen recently and all.

Something the kid probably should have thought about, given his hair color tends to stand out like a sore thumb. Bright red and sticking up every which way. The mismatched armor doesn't help much either -- even as worn as it is.

He's also sort of standing up on a crate to see better. Because hey, maybe this way, he'll pick up some pointer or other.

During the next spar, Cullen purposely takes it slow so he can point out other things - one swipe to the side could leave the other side open, use your shield as a cover so you're not gutted. The recruit that the Commander is facing tried to swing wide against Cullen's sword arm, and while Cullen blocks it easily, his shield arm comes around, nearly knocking the kid senseless.

Lesson number two, he calls out. A shield can be used as a weapon.

It's hard not to hear the sounds of training when she's used to dramatic fits of fainting or swooning instead but it's been a constant background throughout her day thus far. She knows where to go at least and as she makes trips between libraries and the researchers, she spies him, the one in charge, something almost familiar about his face.

Then again that's happened too much lately what with the past ten years returning as if they had never happened at all, as if they hadn't just dragged a nation back from the brink before it could spread to other lands. So she straightens her shoulders, moving easily through the stragglers still nursing a heavy training blow or laughing and chatting, faces ruddy from exertion even in the chill air.

"You are the commander of these forces, correct?" She asks when she makes her way to his side at last, studying his face a little too intently for it to be entirely polite. "If so then there is a matter I must discuss with you, perhaps away from anyone who might be listening in."

The woman's face looks all too familiar to him as well, but there's something he can't place about it. If he's met her before, he certainly can't remember now. "I am the Commander, yes."

She's definitely intense, he thinks. She reminds him a bit of Leliana, a bit of Cassandra. Something in the both of them that makes him both respect and fear them at the same time. He gets the same feeling with Morrigan. She mentions away from prying ears, and he motions her away from the training grounds to a bit more private area off to the side.

"What is the matter you need to discuss?"

"I will be taking delivery of an item in the near future, or as soon as the worst of the snow clears to allow for it. Tis not a small thing, but no so large that it will take up much room though I would prefer it is kept in a place where no one is likely to stumble upon it." This must be filling you with joy Cullen, truly it must, all this mysterious nonsense from a woman dressed in the manner of a Chasind wilder.

Out of habit, she glances around to make sure no one is sneaking closer, even in Orlais this was seldom spoken of and so far the only other one who knows has worked on such a thing herself. Another reason to keep what she's waiting for hidden.

"I thought it best to bring this up with you at the earliest moment, so you might ask questions, though it will be a boon to the Inquisition to have it here."

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That's a shield in your hand, block with it!

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