[ OPEN ] Heart's on fire
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
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 ]
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She picked up her plait, and looked at it thoughtfully. "Christine said I should try oil. Does it cost much?"
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How did he miss that. Clearly he is not paying enough mind, preoccupied by this training of rogues and not dying business.
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It hurt though, that Zevran would have not seen that coming. She wonders, with some wryness, how clearly she's broadcasting that. "Because ... of the nature of it." She looks uncomfortable again, and angry, "Because I'm no one's 'pet rabbit', and I'm not a 'half-blood whore'."
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Which makes that it is happening a sign of the end times. Cullen isn't prudish by any means, but he is so terribly uptight. Who knew?
"So what?" Seriously, Katniss. "They are words. They matter little. You do not even have the ears for a rabbit, nor the temperament for a whore. Though your offense at being called such is a little offensive to me. There is nothing wrong with being a whore."
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She pressed her lips together again, but this time it was concern, "What? No, I don't have a problem with whores - augh, I'm saying this all wrong." As ... usual. "I don't want them thinking he only wants me for sex."
...and she just said that. Out-loud. She buried her face in her hands for a moment, breathing deeply, before looking back at him, "I know they're just words. I know it shouldn't bother me - shouldn't make me angry as a dragon with his tail in a trap. But it does. And I'm trying to stop but ... I don't know how."
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Stranger things have happened, honestly. Nor was this particular thing all that uncommon. Considered unsavory by some, yes, but not uncommon. Zevran himself cares little so long as everyone involved understands that to be the case- and no one is surprised by the truth come the morning.
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She could admit that. Everyone knew how she felt about him. "I won't lie, I couldn't say no -- Maker, I'm not dead. But ... more than that? No. I couldn't be in that situation. It would hurt to know I cared more about him than he cared about me. He could move onto the next fling, and I could ...find someone who did care that much."
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"Where do you put your anger?" She couldn't put it in the same bucket, but she might be able to find another one.
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They made him. That, more than anything, was why they feared him.
"I save it for the hunt and the kill. I use it when there is somewhere it might be used productively." Other than that- what more could he do?
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She would ... use that.
"So you ... what do you do when someone makes you angry? Just walk away then and bottle it up for later?" That sharp smile - how many people had seen that before Zevran had walked away.
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