faderift | it takes strength to live this way

Entry tags:

it takes strength to live this way

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.

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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.

"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."

"Not a bad idea. Always a good idea to have a back-up plan. Planning on wading out into the thick of it, are we?"

He's still sizing Sam up, at this point. Krem's pretty much vouched for him and that's enough for him on a personal level, but the guy's motivations still don't quite line up. Chatting with him a bit over drinks could help that, sure.

And he waves for another round.

"The plan is knowing it and hopefully not needing it." And not getting yelled at by certain mercenaries when it isn't your fault for being ambushed.

Well it looked like one drink and just asking wasn't going to be enough to get Bull to agree, not with noticing the Qunari waving to the bartender for more drinks. With a small exhale, Sam turns slightly to pull a chair out for himself, figuring he's better off sitting than standing for this.

"Better plan than winding up dead."

When Sam pulls out a chair to sit, Bull smirks. And motions for a second drink. They can get around to fighting in good time. In the meanwhile, wouldn't go amiss to find out more about the guy.

For reasons.

"You know, since you've gotten to know the boys and all, I'm sure they wouldn't mind training with you either. Dalish probably has a few moves she could show you. Pretty canny as mages go."

Well seeing that Bull was smirking was probably a good sign of him saying or doing something right, or he was in for quite the ride. Knowing what he did? Probably a mix of all that.

"I didn't realize you had any mages on your team. Pretty sure Dalish was an archer."

There's a small curl to Sam's lips as he says that, saying it seriously, but clearly not buying it. Yeah, he had talked to her already and the conversation had been interesting, but after he figured out the terminology it had gotten better.

"Yeah, I know. I've been asking around, at least to learn the basics on some weapons. Krem suggested that a while back since he wasn't going to show me everything. Course his lessons stopped about a couple months ago because of missions. I've been keeping busy, but I'd like to start up physically training again."

Iron Bull grunts and waves a hand. Yes, yes, he knows Dalish has a cover, but neither of them have a need to keep up the pretense here. 'Apostate' just doesn't have the same heft it used to, anymore.

"Sure. We can get down some basic moves. Working with your staff would be the easiest to start, but smaller weapons would be useful too. Daggers and the like. You usually have them on hand for utility use, might as well take advantage of the fact."

A mage generally moved quickly enough to put weapons like that to better use than, say, an oversized maul.

Perhaps not, but Dalish had been very, very insistent on not being called a mage; it was more being mindful then pretense. Still he could remember not needing to be so mindful on it around Bull during these times.

Sam hums thoughtfully at Bull's suggestions, nodding at the mention of his staff and daggers. Those were certainly easier to work with, as was a shortsword, but daggers he already kept on hand as it was. "I was actually a bit more curious about strength training or working on blocking with you."

"Planning bench-pressing my lieutenant?"

The drinks arrive over Bull's smug look, and he contents himself with a swig from the tankard. Krem never said he couldn't give the kid at least a little crap about the whole affair.

There is many silent 'thanks' going through his head that drinks had come after that, because Sam is sure if Bull had said that while he was drinking he'd be choking and coughing on his drink at the moment. As it was there is a fair bit of a blush on his cheeks, and him clearing his throat.

"I hadn't... considered doing... that," he says slowly seeing as he was trying not to think about that. "Stop him from knocking me on my ass more like it, and knocking him on his own maybe."

"Hey, hey, what you kids get up to is your own business."

Now he's purposefully poking, grin tugging a little wider as Sam's cheeks turn a little red. Oh. Now that's just precious. He's a nice boy. Well, good for Krem.

Meant Bull was going to have a Hell of a time teasing him, though.

The comment has Sam blinking for a moment before raising a hand and rubbing his eyes and bridge of his nose, trying not to turn a brighter shade of red. He had taken Bull's previous suggestion literally, but with his current comment Sam is realizing the man had probably been referring to something else entirely.

He had certainly not been thinking about that.

Pulling his hand away Sam can now see that Bull is grinning even more at him. Fantastic. Sighing, Sam reaches over and takes a small sip of his drink, testing it first before he took more.

"Right. Well... what kind of training do you do to build that up?"

"Weight training's probably a good way to start. Not a bad idea on the whole, even if you weren't planning on picking up a weapon. Never know when you'll have to pull yourself up a cliffside, and you're heavier than you think. Know how much you can pick up and carry without breaking a sweat?"

That would play into how easily he could swing a shield, if it came down to it, though the most useful method of blocking for him would be with a staff. Ah well. Couple of techniques they could probably get around to, in time.

Weight training? He had not even considered about doing something like that, mostly since he did not know about such a thing, though it made perfect sense. "Ah, cannot say that I know how much. I know I can pull myself over a cliffside though - been taking lessons on climbing and falling - if that helps."

And this is why he had come to ask Bull about training. Already there was something he could do to better himself.

"You want to be able to weild more than just that staff with efficiency. You're used to carrying that around, but what if it's not there? What if you have to heft around a sword, or a shield? You can pick it up and swing, sure, but the weights going to throw you off unless you're used to it."

Bull nods towards the door of the tavern.

"We can see how much you'll need. Not before I'm done with my drink, though."

"Reason why I came to you to ask for training." Emprise du Lion really drove that home. He didn't have his usual weapon and made due with a sword and half-staff. If it weren't for his magic he'd have been in trouble, which Krem had been all too kind to lecture him about.

Shields had never crossed his mind, used to using his barriers for protection. Again another thing to consider just from this talk.

"That's fine by me." Sam's not even going to finish his drink, not wanting it to affect his focus considering his alcohol tolerance is another thing he's working on.

Downing the rest of his drink, he pauses, takes in the unfinished drink between them, and gestures towards it with a questioning look. If Sam's not going to drink it, he is.

No sense letting it go to waste.

At the gesture Sam leans back and motions that the drink is all his. Not that he wanted to waste it, but he couldn't put away drinks like Bull and still function like he'd barely drank anything.

"You can certainly hold your liquor."

"Lot of me to hold it."

The second drink is slammed before Bull pulls to his feet, stretching. "Mm. Alright, let's see what you can do." The chair scrapes as he makes his way out, ducking subtly on his way out the door in a way that says he might have smacked his horns a few times before now.

The ringing that followed was no fun for anyone.

Luckily it looked as though the ring was more or less deserted, and their choice of weapons lay in racks along the edge. Bull moved past those, however, nudging a canvas bag near the ring with his boot.

"We'll start with this one. About thirty pounds. Give it a lift."

'Lot of me' was putting it lightly. Bull was a whole lot bigger than him not just in height, and just watching him get up made Sam feel relatively small. More so because he was sitting down. Even so, Sam still gets up quickly and follows when Bull heads out the tavern, keeping a few paces behind to give him some space.

Sam's a bit thankful that the ring is deserted, somewhat nervous about doing this in the first place without there being an audience. His eyes linger on the rack as they pass it, curious to how Bull was going to train him, only to blink when he hears something sliding on the ground.

For a moment Sam looks at the bag then to Bull, brows raised as he takes in what is expected of him. Walking over closer he gives the bag a once over before squatting down and grabbing the edges of the material. With a small grunt he lifts it into his arms and then stands up with little effort. "Not so bad."

"Not bad. Now." Bull nods to another bag not far from the first. "Try two."

They'd continue in increments until it became clear where his limit was. It'd be as good a starting point as anything, figuring out where his strength level lay. Being a mage meant he wasn't used to the heavier stuff, but they could get him up to a decent level with practice and patience.

Basics first.

Try two. Sam looks over to where Bull had been nodding and spots the other bag. He guesses it's another thirty pound bag as he moves over to it, giving it a small nudge with his foot.

For a moment Sam considers on how to work with this since Bull hadn't given him any specific instructions besides 'pick it up'. After some thought Sam eventually shifts the first bag to fold over his left arm before kneeling down and wrapping his right arm around it. With another grunt he stands up again and looks to Bull.

He's feeling the weight a bit, but it isn't so bad. More awkward to maneuver than anything since the sand inside shifts around. "Now what?"

He's not putting enough strain into it, but it gives him an idea of where he's at. "Guessing that's about a third your weight. Good place to start if you're not used to the regime the Chargers go through."

And if he's angling for a place on the team, he's going to have to keep up with the others. That's his one rule. Gesturing for Sam to drop the bags, Bull moves towards the edge of the ring and grabs a length of rope. The bags wind up being tied together, a little easier to handle that way.

"So. You're gonna start at that end of the ring. Grab the bag, haul it up, bring it back to the other side. Then head back, do it again. You do that until I tell you to stop, or you need to stop. Don't go trying to impress me and hurt yourself," he adds, arching a brow. "Need to know what kind of shape my guys are in."

At the gesture, Sam tosses the bags, one by one, into a pile between the two of them. While he watches Bull move about grabbing rope and whatnot, Sam dusts his hands off against each other, raising his brows when Bull finally finishes. That would be easier to handle.

At the instructions Sam nods his head at each point, twice so at the mention of hurting himself, and runs it over in his head once more after Bull has finished. For a moment a confused frown slips onto his face. "So haul the bag and bring it to the other end. Put it down and re-haul it back and head to the other end, or put it down and walk to the other end without it and then repeat?" He's not trying to be a smartass here, just honestly curious on exactly how the steps went so that he could do them right.

"The second one."

He doesn't roll his eyes, to his credit, even if Sam does get a bit of a look. The kid's just clarifying, and he's not used to being drilled. He was still a long ways off from being Charger material, and he wasn't getting accepted based on the fact that he happened to be canoodling his lieutenant.

Sam gets a gesture to get moving before Bull settles in, arms over his chest.

it takes strength to live this way

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