[ OPEN ] Heart's on fire

[ombranera]

WHO: Character(s)
WHAT: Zevran Aranai's School for Rogues Who Can't Sneak Good and Want to Do Other Stuff Good Too.
WHEN: Wintermarch, all month
WHERE: Skyhold: Courtyard, Stables, Rookery, Battlements, etc
NOTES: Sass, Stealth, and Violence

He had mulled over the notion for a few weeks now; watching the soldiers take themselves to task, the warriors practicing as best they could; the mages training in their spells and thought- aside from combat (and even then there were tricks soldiers did not always think to teach) how was a rascal, a scoundrel, a rogue to learn more tricks? A well trained operation of any sort had well trained members of all sorts; the bruisers, the wizards, the rogues. Perhaps it was high time someone did something for the sneakier sorts.


[ Courtyard ]

Every lesson starts the same- a quick lap around the courtyard as fast as possible, vaulting over people and structures, running along the wall, making use of all the same skills that kept him alive all those years in Antiva City. For those that did not know them? The tricks came as a brief primer after the lap was finished- even a brief demonstration is offered. Afterward he runs them through a few training locks set into empty chests, some of the them wound with ringing alarms for the sake of practice. Trip the wrong tumbler? Off goes the alarm. After that it's stealth and pickpocketing. Sneaking about through a field of tripwires connected to more ringing bells and powder packets, a veritable labyrinth. Any bells go off, any powder on your person? You go through again. One of the training dummies has been re-purposed with bells and pouches on it- each pouch has a bell attached. They're timed and told to get as many as possible without ringing any bells. Ring a bell? Run a lap.


[ Stables ]

Here there is room enough for him to demonstrate proper trap production and dismantling. Every wound spring, every steel mechanism. They start with the basic bladed traps- though none of the blades are sharpened and none of the powder explosions hold more than dye. Once they've made traps that are...decent or satisfactory, Zevran walks them through detection and dismantling. Some of the practice traps have trick springs and triggers- if set off they'll be dusted with powder instead of losing their fingers. Later he goes through a list of common poisons and venoms to create and how to build up a tolerance for them. He does not provide them with samples this early on.


[ Battlements ]

Rappelling and dueling and improvisational combat and you! Here Zevran shows them how to climb, how to fall, how to make their own ropes when they've none of their own, how to throw a rappel to make it stay, how to haul it down, and how to dual wield on uneven ground. Demonstrations with Isabela and sparring with whoever wishes to take their turn happens throughout the day as requested; Zevran also covers grappling, breaking holds, and how to fight dirty. An honorable rogue is a dead rogue after all.


[ Wildcard ]

Want individual attention? Make something up here!

Comments

WILDCARD BABY

[wickedchase]

It's all terribly amusing to watch, the classes and following routines that Zevran puts them through. Though Twisted Fate is a mage, he himself has roguish qualities; sleight of hand and escape arts being his own best features.

"Don't exhaust them too quickly," he remarks with a chuckle, still watching but not taking part. To himself, he needs no lessons. He does well enough on his own.

It doesn't occur to him to share.

Sweet

[ombranera]

"They are no Crows, that is for certain. But they are learning." A beat. "Little by little, but they are learning."

He cannot rush this after all; they had their own backgrounds and their own means, occasionally teaching them requires their unlearning their older lessons- especially if the older lessons aren't as useful for working in groups.

Courtyard

[justdesert]

There had been a great number of laps involved in this morning. Completing him most recent, Kevin takes a moment to wipe some of the powder- now matted down with some sweat- from his hair and scarred cheek. Slightly out of breath, he's still smiling as the dye comes out.

Then it's time to go back to the re-purposed training dummy. He waits his turn, striking up conversation with whatever fellow student or mentor may be in hearing range.

"It's so thrilling to learn new things."

Courtyard

[ombranera]

"You may wish to attempt fewer pockets. Try those you know you might manage for certain and leave the more difficult pouches for when you have mastered the simpler." That he tries speaks well of him- but it is easy for a rogue's ambition to outshine their ability and- much like a mage or warrior, such things can see them dead in short order. "But you are doing well for someone fresh to this."

courtyard;

[foxsays]

Despite limiting her thefts in Skyhold, Araceli isn't about to let herself get rusty and passing on the tricks of the trade is something she's already done, including here. She does her own laps first because that's just routine by now, scaling a few walls and racing up and down the battlements but it frees her to move slower for those who need pointers and encouragement for the warm-up, a smile on her face the whole time.

And for the locks? Well spend almost half your life as a thief and you know each and every lock intimately, but it never hurts to practice. When it's not her turn, there's still a lockpick in her fingers that she twirls restlessly, a smile on her face.

"You should treat the lock almost like you're courting it, you need to be gentle," she advises, "not a great brute."

[ombranera]

"Perhaps you might care to demonstrate, Araceli. I think they have watched me attempt it enough to be sick of my hands." Though that was highly unlikely, to be certain. His hands were wonderful and everyone should like to watch him work as often and long as he pleases.

Wildcard

[justice_is_blond]

He's hesitated, talked himself into and out of coming to speak with Zevran over and over, ever since he saw the note. Anders needs to learn something about stealth, and lockpicking could prove to be invaluable. But Zevran knows his face. Zevran was also a friend of Isabela's, and she's the only one who had called the chantry explosion a bold plan. And Anders had helped save Zevran's life. Theoretically. The elf might not have actually needed the help they'd provided.

Justice believes the risk isn't worth it. Anders is tired of listening to him, and that's not fair, Anders is the one in control most of the time, makes most of the choices, but when he'd agreed to help, he hadn't agreed to give away his individuality and it's because of how much of that he's lost that he stubbornly and likely foolishly seeks out the elf and finds him alone in the stables.

"I'm called Detlef." There's no turning back now.

[ombranera]

"And I am the Queen of Antiva." Zevran drawls, winding the spring on the latest twist of a trap. he had heard of what Anders had done and- truly? Thought nothing of it. Bombing is not the most subtle of methods but when a point needed to be made? It is not the worst way to go. Still.

He did owe Anders his life in part for his assistance with the Crows and had wondered after his presence in the Inquisition.

Not to blow it up, surely. Zevran finishes hooking the catch and turns to face Anders properly, brow quirked and hands plainly visible. The last thing he needs is to anger a mage. "I honestly would have picked a more common name. Even here 'Detlef' stands out. What else have you thought of?"

Courtyard

[issala]

Kas does running and jumping and climbing pretty well. He was a former street kid, after all, and if you couldn't run away from things, you were a dead guy. He even does laps without (too much) grumbling, knowing that building some muscle into his skinny body was a really good idea.

Stealth? Good in practice, but not as good in real life. He could move pretty well unseen from bells and powders, but his qunariness was really obvious when he tried to sneak on the streets back home. Everyone looked at the horned kid.

He did pickpocketing okay. He ended up tripping bells and getting powdered now and then, but about half the time, he got what he was aiming for. Failing meant you had to run, after all, and we've already established that he's a good runner.

...then it comes to locks, and he's never been more frustrated in his life. Cursing and fighting the urge to throw the tools far far away, he gives the chest a kick. "Why do lockpicking at all? Why can't you just smash the fucking thing and be done with it?"

Yes, Kas. You can totally smash things when built like a wet noodle.

[ombranera]

"The idea is not to be seen or noticed. If you smash a chest while the guard is in the next room they will hear it, alarm the city guard, and then it is all downhill from there. Get in. Get what you want. Get out. None ought to be the wiser." Zevran crouches down to the chest Kas had been working with, peering at the mechanism. No, it is not one of the more difficult ones. "Take your time. You are working blind and attempting to rush will only see the bells dripped and you locked out."

Wildcard

[the_effect_she_has]

Katniss comes looking for a smattering of lessons in, well, anything. There wasn't much Zevran could teach Katniss about stealth -- she could come up behind a bear on a windy day, she could avoid making noise in any kind of environment. Locks, though? Locks she needed to learn so she hit a lot of bells and gritted her teeth over a lot of fine handwork.

Traps were, as well, something she knew well as a hunter, but she did take careful note of how to make every kind of poison he taught. It was useful in more ways than one, and she dipped some of her arrows in home-made concoctions.

With Ara's lessons, she was getting better at climbing walls and here she pushed herself even harder. She got fairly good at the throwing knives, and one or two half-handed tricks.

She would have made a fairly decent rogue. If she could, in fact, act.

Which she could not. She rubbed her face again, as she stepped away from the dummy she was supposed to be robbing and then breathed out. "Okay. I can do this."

She stepped around the pitfalls, slid to the left, so she could bump the dummy just so and say deadpan, "Oh, sorry, didn't mean to run into you."

And then ... fake smile, and... ugh.

"I just got made again, didn't I?"

[ombranera]

"Katniss, feigning friendliness is not your skill. It is not a lie you can sell. Why do you continue to attempt to do so?" Zevran pushed off the wall where he had been leaning and walks closer, eyes narrowed at the clench of her jaw. "Attempt subservience. Docility. Fear. Attempt anger if you must- but reach for a lie you can show in your eyes and know will have enough truth to it to be convincing. Later when you are better with the acting? Attempt the smile."

courtyard

[sistertohermen]

She's been watching. She didn't mean to, because she didn't know what all this was going on in the first place. Rachette perches herself somewhere above the courtyard, just high enough not to be seen if one doesn't look up but not out of the way. She's not spying. Just curious to the commotion.

They're running around in circles. Jumping and dodging. Trying to be sneaky. She peers closer when the students? they must be students. are being shown locks. Fake pockets. Some people are getting bells rung on them. Poof, some powder flutters up into the air.

It's curious. And familiar. Are they being trained in the nature of rogues? Chette eventually hops down from her perch down to the ground and attempts to look like she's just passing through. "It seems to me that you've got an interesting set of exercises here," she says casually to the elf that seems to be in charge.

[ombranera]

"They try so hard, we must admire that. Even if they cannot sneak about quite so well as you without notice." Well. Without most noticing. Live with a whole guild of assassins out for your blood and you get to be terribly paranoid and observant in short order.

"Interested in a refresher, Bellina, or perhaps adding your own expertise to the mix? The more hands I have available, the more attention I am able to give those that need it."

Stables

[disgracedchampion]

It might have been a coincidence that Michel just happened to be here, or it could have been something more than that. After all Zevran was teaching the basics of traps and Michel was the elf's patron, it would have been prudent, on some level to watch him work through his process not that he was a new hand a traps...why else would he purchase them. Still, many of the traps were crafted by Zevran himself, so it was a good idea...and it was one of the few things about rogue training that he could really take away.

That and maybe lock picking.

Michel had been trained as a Chevalier, he could fight like a Templar, he knew enough about Grey Warden tactics to fight Darkspawn...but a Chevalier learning how to fight like a rogue? They were antipodes of one another so it was difficult for him to take much away from it, not that he couldn't appreciate what he observed in the courtyard from his spot on the battlements. What a terrible taskmaster he was as well, and Michel appreciated that as well, from a distance.

In the stable he wasn't quite so distant, but he wasn't involved either, in fact another reason for his being there could have been the horses. A particular stallion in general, a large horse, dark brown, strong, sturdy...temperamental next to their gelding counterparts and Michel preferred that. He had his own way with temperamental horses and they took to him naturally, though what horse didn't enjoy a good bathing, grooming, and clipping?

That too could have been his reason for incidentally being here, half listening to Zevran's lessons, half horse tending.

[ombranera]

Between winding one trap and the next Zevran walked about those attempting to replicate the design. For the most part they had the gist of it, learning the broad strokes. Now and then the strange nature of teaching adults what they should have known as children struck him- for there was no reason for them to know. They were not Crows. He was no Master forming a cell. Divorcing himself from that mentality was difficult- considering it was what was expected of him when he'd left for Fereldan; considering what position he would have now had he not failed.

Perhaps he might have had his run of several cells before Taliesin ever earned his first but- that was not what life had in store for him. Some of the weight in his shoulders, the burden of doing well, of not being the same as the man that shaped him- of doing this right? Felt as though it might crush him. Taking a moment to tease someone, to be more himself would ease the load.

How fortunate Michel chose to mind his horse at roughly the same time. Zevran ordered a brief respite from the work and walked about to the stall where Michel lingered, leaning against the doorframe. "Enjoying the lessons, Soleil?"

Courtyard

[samahl]

Cyril enjoys Zevran's presence too much not to at least partake in some of the lessons. He's not really one for fighting with blades and he already is decent at trap making, but he enjoys honing his stealth and dexterity. Running around is actually more fun than he wants to admit, as is working his way through the tripwires. His body is naturally graceful and he enjoys showing off when he can. That said, he isn't perfect and he messes up quite a bit.

In the end, he's worn out and sore.

"You know," he teases a bit once they're done. "Done day we'll spend some time together and I won't be left feeling thoroughly used."

Courtyard

[ombranera]

"And what a sad, sad day that shall be, Bello." Zevran winds his way over having done just as much of the sneaking, the leaping and the dueling and the climbing- and none the worse the wear for it. If anything he's working them half as hard as he himself had been trained- and he intends for it to stay that way. Rogues they should be- Crows? No.

To Cyril he offers a wicked smile, reaching out to dust some of the colored powder from his cheek. "You look as though you need a long soak and some wine, my friend."

Zevran's Cranky Apprentice - sparring

[dalishious]

[ Merrick is there often during these training sessions, offering himself as a sparring partner for those who want a slightly more brutal approach. He doesn't hold back--hurling opponents to the ground, twisting limbs, even biting. He fights with less fluid, expertly honed finesse than Zevran, but this mini version is not to be taken lightly.

It's especially apparent when one young hopeful engages with him, and ends up pinned to the ground with Merrick's thighs holding him in a headlock. His face is rather blue by the time he's let go.

You want a serious challenge, and aren't afraid of being roughed up a bit? Come take him on. ]

[ombranera]

I said not to break them, Merrick.

[ Zevran calls from where he is perched. And while he can say that as much as he likes- it probably will not take. All the more reason he's told the recruits that sparring with Merrick is an advanced course. Not something to be done lightly. ]

If you do that they cannot come back tomorrow and be shamed a second time.

Battlements

[girlinthebox]

[ Steps to a new dance. She's always wanted to learn more, to be more. Her magic is a detriment, a danger, unstable and uncontrollable. She needs focus. Feet flying over stones, finding frayed edges to grip on their makeshift ropes. These lessons are fun, freeing, feels like flying.

Movement comes easily to her, as natural as breathing.

Daggers are something new. She's not afraid. Quite the contrary, she turns them over curiously in her hands, as though seeing something else entirely. Can't always run, and these are less likely to double back on her or her brother. You can see the end of a blade, control where it goes.

Then her arm extends with one in hand, eyes traveling down to the tip. Extended reach. That's all. ]

[ombranera]

Very good, Averlina.

[ He has had a few students before in the Crows. Cold, cruel things that cut for the sake of cutting, that fought for the sake of fighting. That strangled one another in the night for the chance to be something more. River? Cuts cleanly. Fights neatly. Has a precise grace to her which all his former attempts at teaching lacked and a mind not to cut simply to see someone bleed- but to cut a thread and move on to the next. ]

Now again, the back slice.

Courtyard

[arlathvhen]

She's determined to not have her rookie mistake happen again. She puts pretenses aside, she puts looking wide eyed and cute aside, and she focuses. She moves carefully, delicately through the field, and constantly checks for powder, so she knows where she messed up, so she can be more careful next time. She gives the pickpocketing a try for trying's sake, but it's clear she is focused on repairing her mistake.

She doesn't succeed at first, of course, but she takes the lap without complaint, racing around the courtyard. It even looks like she's enjoying herself for the lap, so much like racing through the forest. Instead of trees there are stalls to duck around, and instead of rocks to leap over, there are people. But it's a good way to work out all the tension that builds up every time she tries something and fails.

The pickpocketing she proves to be completely terrible at. Dalish don't pick pockets. But she still tries, and after a few attempts, gets frustrated enough to swat the dummy, making every bell on it ring.

[ombranera]

"Beleth." It's sharp to cut through the distance from where he is assisting another rogue- one he sends on their lap while he approaches her. Fits of temper are not typical of her but this is difficult. It is new. It is not something she has learned before.

Such an action, in the Crows, would see her whipped.

As it is he stands with his arms crossed, one brow raised before her. "What went wrong, here?"

If she can explain her mistake, she can at least see in her mind's eye what she ought to do differently.

Courtyard

[snarksman]

Clint's good at distance rogue things. He's good with poisons, good with mixing elixirs and making things go boom. But that close up stuff? Picking pockets and the like? He'd laugh. He knows how to go it quite poorly, enough to be considered passable for him to not get caught, but nowhere on par to consider himself a proper rogue. He's good with flipping and tumbling and getting over obstacles with ease - he'd trained for years with a performance group that saw to that - but ask him to pick a lock and he'll pale in the face.

Clearly he needs Zevran's crafty expertise.

"Quite the set up," he quips, whistling low. "Are there to be nightly shows?"

[ombranera]

"That depends on whether or not we find a proper clown. Alas, no one has stepped forward as of yet. Something about not liking it when I throw daggers around them." And flinching would only get them hit- he tells them this and they laugh. They whine. They call him a liar- so. Those demonstrations have gone unperformed due to a few squeamish individuals.

Wildcard-ish

[el_tybs]

It's after a few days of watching and trying not to end up as an obstacle - or target - that Sam eventually finds Zevran while he isn't in the middle of a demonstration.

"How are lessons going?" He makes sure not to come up from behind, not sure how that would exactly go, brows raised as he looks around to see what each person is doing.

[ombranera]

"Fairly well. Most do not fall from the rafters when we practice climbing, all recognize most poisons and no one has lost a finger to the traps just yet. An auspicious start." Better than he'd hoped for, if her were perfectly honest.

Battlements probably.

[easternseaqueen]

Isabela had be standing by, having noticed his little school, and she couldn't help but laugh every now and then as the new rogues tried to get through the ropes.

"Ahh, this brings back memories. Need an old student to show them how it's done?" she asked, strolling up to him.

[ombranera]

"You wish to show off." He crackled a laugh, unsheathing his blades. "And I do not mind helping you to do so. I would recommend everyone stand back; this will become a bit...energetic."