it takes strength to live this way

[qunari]

WHO: Iron Bull and OPEN
WHAT: General summary of events during the end of the month. Drinking, fighting, more drinking, maybe a little flirting.
WHEN: Mid-to-late Wintermarch
WHERE: All over the damn place. Mostly the tavern and sparring ring, though.
NOTES: n/a

He was starting to feel a little restless. By now, the boss would have taken them all out on some exploit or another, and even if he was glad to be at Skyhold again? Sitting idle could grate on the nerves a bit.

The best way to counter that seemed to be throwing down in the training ring just outside the tavern, taking on all comers as well as training those that seemed of a mind to ask. Cullen had most of his people following their own regime, but if they wanted a swing at something else? He wouldn’t refuse them. Not everyone fought like a templar.

The rest of the time, Bull made himself easy to find. Easy to avoid, too, if that was the preference of some. And he knew it was, from the glimpsed he’d gotten of the Vashoth inside the keep. But it was no hardship holding court inside the comfort of the tavern, indulging heavily in drinks and working his way down the menu of available meals and snacks.

It was business as usual, for the most part. Even if he did feel a little more restless than usual. Had to find a way to get out, hit something that really had it coming.

Or find someone to pass the evening with. That might help.

Comments

[el_tybs]

When Krem mentioned to him to seek out the other Chargers for some training, he probably had not considered Sam asking The Iron Bull himself. It seemed like a perfectly good idea, getting to know and learn about the Qunari at the same time as learning to defend himself again a larger opponent. Honestly, if he could figure out how to hold his own against Bull he would have a better chance in anything else being thrown at him.

So it's for that reason that one day Sam seeks out Bull in the tavern, mindfully buying him a drink first before dropping the question on him. "Can you teach me to fight?" Or at least take a hit.

[qunari]

Bull surveys him for a moment over his drink, taking a swig before getting around to an answer. "Getting tired of throwing fireballs at people?" he finally counters, leaning back slightly in his chair.

Sam wouldn't be the first mage he trained. Dalish had had to learn to fend off enemies with her staff in case her mana ran low, or someone managed to silence her. It's not like he can't see the need for it. But it was always tricky. Entirely new tactics, new stances, new ways of thinking in the heat of a fight.

[el_tybs]

"Not particularly, but I'm tossing out barriers more than I am fire in any case," he replies easily, a corner of his mouth curling upward as he crossed his arms.

That being said Sam hums for a moment thoughtfully, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck. "Well I guess asking to 'train' me how to fight like you would be saying it better. I know how to fight, just... I'd rather be prepared to know how to defend or fight if for some reason I don't have my magic or my staff."

[demonicbeauty]

The training ring held some fascination for Ariadne. It reminded her of the spars the knights went through back in Valeria. She would watch them from time to time, between assignments from Lysia or Princess Amanda. Humanoid fighting always seemed very clumsy and random. But there was always something to be learned.

And Ariadne's curiosity certainly wasn't about to abate, just because she was in Thedas.

It would be legitimate, in fact, to say that it had increased.

She went to the tavern often enough. And there was nothing to do, she'd stay to watch the fights after. But she was surprised, when she approached that afternoon, to find the enormous Qunari there. She hadn't seen many of them, but she felt a certain kinship. They were the only non-humanoid species that didn't seem to be hunted down here. So she paused to watch him.

[qunari]

It proved a fortunate thing that the training ring was so close to the tavern, though perhaps that had been by design. It was easy to work up a sweat under the glare of the sun, even in the relatively temperate mountain climate, and Bull had been at it for a while now.

A few of the Chargers needed practice, he was moving between them to demonstrate technique, before urging them to try and take him on with what they'd learned. Three at a time. When his guys lay panting in the dirt, Bull chuckled and dismissed them to go cool off and drink some water, brushing himself off.

"Enjoying the show?"

He hadn't so much as glanced at her once during the scuffle, not openly. Yet when he looked up at her it was as if they'd been chatting together all this time, without a moment's hesitation.

[demonicbeauty]

It was the sign of a great warrior, to be able to mark one's surroundings without necessarily drawing attention to it. Ariadne's lip curled slightly when he spoke to her. He was impressive. She could certainly say that about him.

"Yes," she replied, raising her chin slightly. "I hope you don't mind. I can leave if it bothers you."

She tried to catch his scent. Not that she was expecting it to be different from any other Qunari. No, she expected that, along with the salt of sweat and the acrid aroma of adrenaline.

But it never hurt to check.

[aforethought]

She's piss-drunk. Otherwise, she'd never go out of her way to bother someone that looks like this much like a druffalo on two legs. Usually when you carry around a rack like that, some noble shoots you full of arrows, then hacks off your head for the front hall.

Melys may not have been filled in on the Inquisition's big names yet.

"Holy shit," She peels a finger off her mug to point at his horns. "How'd you even get in the doorway?"

[qunari]

Sadly, this isn't uncommon. It's not the first or fifth or twentieth time someone got shitfaced and decided to go poking at the Bull. Inside, he feels something weary tug at him as he settles in for another round of This Bullshit.

Outside, he shrugs and takes another swig of his beer. "Carefully. Only impaled two guys the last time," he replies dryly, without so much as a blink or twitch to give anything besides that deadpan look back at the woman.

Hm. Redhead. That's something.

[aforethought]

"Yeah? Figure that's why the Orlesians wear them?"

She swings herself down into a chair, peering back. The twinge of a grin latches its way to the edge of her mouth, fingers darting forward to tap at the edge of his mug.

"Let me get you a round," Not that she has any plans to pay for it directly; cards are a shit game, but they can sure keep folks' minds off their money in the immediate sense. "And you can tell me why Unicorn over there keeps giving you the evil eye."

Melys jerks her chin towards the far end of the tavern, where a vashoth with a broken horn occasionally shoots a glower up over his cheese plate. It's meticulously-arranged — probably because the elf across from him keeps trying to explain something with the pieces.

Back on Bull, her eyes are wide and curious, just at the point past tipsy where the worry of danger exits stage-right.

"Must've impaled something real heavy on that one."

[unbrokenoath]

Kaisa's usually drawn to the training ring, even without anything going on there. When she sees a giant of a man swinging around a massive axe like it was a child's toy, she's even more intrigued. So she heads on over, leaning against the fence as she enjoys the view for a little bit. She's not just oogling--she's taking notes, curious to see how someone with the raw strength of a massive qunari and the honed skills of a trained mercenary fought in combat. While she didn't bother to hide her staring, it wouldn't take a Ben Hassrath to figure out that there was a studious air to the way she watched him.

After a bit of that, she sauntered on into the training area itself, nodding to him with a lazy smile.

"Are you charging tickets to that show, or is it free?"

[qunari]

"You're thinking of the show that comes later. Lot more oil, lot less clothing."

Bull turned with a smirk, regarding the woman with swift glance up and down. Fighter. Might be here to join in, not just a spectator. "Planning on stepping in? Seem to have run out of guys to hit," he added, jerking a thumb over his shoulder to the last of his opponents, still doubled over and panting.

[unbrokenoath]

"Oh, really? Now that sounds like a show that I'd be willing to spend money on tickets for. Or at least hear about. In detail."

She flutters her eyelashes at Bull for a moment, a shit-eating grin on her face, then turns to something that she enjoys as much as flirting--hitting people with big swords. She walks over to the weapons rack, and pulls a greatsword off of it, hefting it a little to get the feel for its weight. "It'd be my genuine pleasure. I don't get the chance to spar with a lot of people your size." Probably because there are very few people outside of Par Vollen and Seheron that're his size. "But hey, you can't be any worse than an ogre."

For a brief moment, she is ungently reminded of the reason for such a resemblance, and blanches. But that's nothing she wants to picture when she's trying to beat the tar out of a perfectly nice fellow.

"So, first blood, pushed out of the circle, or just stop when one of us calls uncle?" Swinging the sword around, she begins to roll her shoulders, popping her neck. "And do you want a wager, or just put our pride on the line?"

[hlif]

It only took a matter of days before the rest of Asher's crew made the decision to abandon him to somewhere slightly warmer and less crowded, with strict instructions to send word as soon as they were settled. Which does mean that he's left to his own devices as he tries to settle in and find his feet.

So training it is, or it will be because Asher knows plenty of folk of the tall and horned variety, some friends, more that just like to glower at him or attack (thanks Kirkwall, what a magical place you were), but none quite like this. Y'know, the kind that could bench press him in full armour and armed to the teeth although today it's just a shirt and an axe resting beside him when he whistles.

"Expecting company or is it take on anyone stepping in?"

[qunari]

He doesn't know him, but a glance tells him what he needs to know. It's the little things that give people away, usually. It's enough for Bull to nod, a roll of his shoulder resulting in a meaty 'pop' of his joints.

"I've got time, if you want to go."

Things had been slow this morning, and the dummies just weren't as much of a challenge. This guy looked like he might put up a decent scrap. Only one way to find out for sure.

[hlif]

"Been a long time since I fought anyone near your size, still probably a head or so shorter." Not as broad either out of the thick armour but that's tradition up in the Holds and cold enough to warrant it, and it only becomes more obvious when he swings himself up and over the fence.

When he stretches out he groans, because fighting a bronto and a wagon up a mountain during winter wasn't one of the better plans he'd ever had in his life, but best to just get moving and get the worst over with. If he's sore, well that's what alcohol is for.

"Loser buys the drinks? I've got family homebrew I don't mind wagering." Because cocky as he is, there's a reason Asher cleared out of Kirkwall.

[aggregiopavali]

He'd seen the huge Qunari around the tavern with his crew, obviously happily at home. To see so many Qunari at home here, happily making their way put him a little on edge - the last time he'd seen that was in Kirkwall before... well. They all knew how that ended.

Still, seeing so many Qunari gathered in one place brought back memories - not necessarily good ones, but not all bad. "A terrible ale for myself-," he called out approaching the bar, "-and another for the Qunari." He was in a good mood, and he wanted to find out more about why they were here. Where better to start than a drink?

[qunari]

"Feel like I'm getting spoiled," Bull countered with a snort, leaning forward. Drinks being bought for him general meant they wanted something, a tumble or a favor at the top of the list. Not the feeling he was getting of the elf, though, at least not right away.

Interesting markings, too. There was a story there, without question.

"So, what's the occasion?" he continued, scarred brow arching over the eyepatch.

[aggregiopavali]

"Qunari in the south are not all that common, well - staying in one place. Last time I saw it was in Kirkwall," he said with a shrug. "Especially so many who speak common well. I was... curious." At least he was being honest in his curiosity.

[fleurdesel]

Her word was her bond, and with the Inquisition set to head to the Emprise du Lion soon and what she understood of weather contributing to the usual itch of qunari's horns, Adelaide felt it prudent to request another case from home some time ago. With the shipment having arrived she made certain to parcel it out to the Inquisition's horned members as best she could, passing it along to Korrin to hand out to those she knew. Bull's delivery she saw to personally- despite Korrin's concerns she found him fascinating enough to leave her curious, and it had little to do with his musculature.

Well.

Some of the curiosity was due to his musculature. Predominantly it was a desire to understand, better, how the Qunari handled their mages- the possible abominations, if they knew anything of Spirits. Any perspective would be useful, if he was willing to share it. That in mind she carried the packet of horn balm to where he was usually found, approaching with a stiff set to her shoulders (too many hours hunched over texts and scrolls that proved fruitless or bent over injuries or her mortar and pestle) and a respectful dip of her head as she approached. "For the upcoming mission...and I've some questions if you have time to answer."

[qunari]

"Ahhh."

Bull grinned at the sight of the stuff, before gesturing to an open chair in front of him. "That's fair. I've got some time. Have a seat."

The mage looked like she'd had her fair share of long nights without any fun to show for it. Overworked, he'd say, yet here she was seeing to that little off-handed favor he'd asked. Could be she was still just grateful for what he'd done months ago, but she was plain enough with her intent off the bat. That was at least part of the reason she was here. He could believe that much.

[fleurdesel]

Leblancs kept their word and paid their debts- though what she considered a debt had already been paid, she'd given her word.

The case she set aside as she swept her skirts into her other hand, the motion not quite as fluid and graceful as it ought to be (shoulders), sitting gingerly due to a pull along her back (spine.) She was no longer a young mage of twenty, staying up all hours to avoid demons and cram in an extra line of research or translation for the sake of a project that offered more stress than results-

It was unwise to say the least.

"I know it to be something of a sensitive subject, how mages are treated under the Qun." She took care to pronounce it properly; it may not be her faith or her life, but it was A Faith. One that seemed to work for The Iron Bull. "But I wished to know if there was anything you could tell me of how they are educated to use their magic."

[apostasia]

It isn't that Martel is anti-social -

No, it sort of is that. He's made a regular habit of sparring with Iron Bull, preferring earlier in the day but flexible when obliged to be, but he hasn't made a habit of the tavern; with the exception of a courtesy drink at First Night and his appreciation of Vivienne's three excellent liquid courses, he hasn't really partaken. He prefers his own company to most people's, Adelaide's at a push and overall, all of them sober. Thedas is still too new, Martel still too new to it - relaxing is a luxury and he's been on edge and not in the mood.

But Iron Bull seems like he needs a drink, at the end of it, and Martel hasn't actually tired of him yet. There are more ways than just being useful to become a part of a place, and ... mmm. The number of people whose company he doesn't tire of quickly can be counted on one hand. It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to branch out.

So he buys the first round.

[qunari]

As far as Rifters go, Martel's been one of the more interesting ones to try and puzzle out. It's always in the details. That veneer of civility isn't the only slight of hand he's using, and people hide things for a reason. But he's on their side, as far as Bull can tell, and he's happy to keep him close at hand, if for no other reason than to keep an eye on him.

And hey. The guy's not terrible company. Especially when he's the one buying drinks.

Bull settles into his usual chair with a grin, gesturing for Martel to join him. "Not bad work out there. Never seen that technique before," he observes, rolling one shoulder to work the kink out of it.

[noleechesneeded]

The conversation Simon had had before with Hudson had been an enlightening one, but it didn't give him enough. Simon had been unfortunately ignorant of Qunari practice regarding mages, and when that ignorance was corrected it had sickened him. It still did, but Simon couldn't get the conversation out of his head. He kept going over questions he wished he'd asked at the time, morbid as they were, and could only guess at the answers.

Most of all, what if the ugly potential that nagged at the back of his mind turned out to be viable? Could he really take such a thing and use it? If it worked, and if it helped, then maybe...but he needed to know more first.

His thoughts were leaving him picking at his meal at the tavern, eating more out of mechanical duty than enjoyment. After eating enough to avoid anyone overlooking and passing judgement that Simon wasn't taking proper care of himself, the mage rose to leave, heading down the stairs before catching sight of a large grey figure through the slats. Simon stopped and caught himself before he began to stare. That was the Iron Bull, wasn't it? And if the rumors about him were true...but Simon couldn't just walk up to the man and ask him everything he knew about the Saarebas.

Well...maybe if he was polite about it, he could try... At least it might put an end to the nagging thoughts in his head.

Simon took a quick breath and moved again, this time coming around the stairs rather than heading for the exit. He approached the Bull directly with more outward confidence than he truly felt, and took the leap.

"Excuse me," he said, "are you Iron Bull? I was hoping to speak with you...to ask you some questions, if that's all right."

[qunari]

Bull's attention tugged away from the drink in his hand to the young mage who stood in front of him, looking a good deal more serious than anyone hanging around in a tavern really ought. "That so?"

Usually people danced around the issue, bought drinks or struck up conversation first, but there was something to be said for the more forthcoming approach. At least the kid was honest. After a pause to consider Bull lifted his chin and nodded toward a seat across from him.

Gave him the opportunity to read him for a moment before continuing.

"You're one of the healers, aren't you?"