Cʀᴇᴍɪsɪᴜs "Kʀᴇᴍ" Aᴄʟᴀssɪ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
kremdelacreme) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
faderift2015-10-17 10:14 pm
kremdelacreme) wrote in faderift2015-10-17 10:14 pm
(no subject)
WHO: Krem and anyone that happens along.
WHAT: Krem is growing fidgety between missions and helping the repair effort, while Bull is out and about doing Important Inquisition Things
WHEN: Any time after the training ring is set up
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Nothing in particular except it's a Krem and he's making a little bit of a spectacle of himself.
WHAT: Krem is growing fidgety between missions and helping the repair effort, while Bull is out and about doing Important Inquisition Things
WHEN: Any time after the training ring is set up
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Nothing in particular except it's a Krem and he's making a little bit of a spectacle of himself.
If there was one thing Krem was good at, it was winding himself up. While he and the Chargers had their missions, more often than not, he was around Skyhold, and he could almost feel himself atrophying.
The training ring had been set up almost immediately by Commander Cullen's forces, but for the moment, it was empty. Off on assignment, or else occupied elsewhere, this meant that there wasn't much by way of distraction when the bored, slightly agitated Charger when he rounded the posts marking the border of it. He had stripped off his armor except for his leathers, mail, and chestplate, leaving his arms exposed to the air He had his maul in hands wrapped with soft leather, and he seemed to be doing warmup maneuvers with it.
Over time though, it got more complex. Strikes turned into flowing stances, booted feet ground into the dusty dirt and kicked it up when he turned in place. It was clear why Bull valued him as a fighter, with a weapon heavier than the average human could easily wield turned into a blur around him. This was why he was a front-line fighter, how he'd kept himself alive through skirmishes, and how he kept his skills sharp on and off the battlefield.
He was faintly shining with sweat when he came to a halt, slinging his weapon over his back, heading for a bucket filled with cool water and dipping a tin cup into it that was resting on the nearby stones. Part of it was splashed on his face and rubbed through his hair as he caught his breath.
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She has to nod at his next point, though. Sorrel was important. Frustratingly important. She couldn't help but wish that Pel and Sorrel had switched--Surely she was even more important. And then Sorrel would be here, complaining in her ear about all these shemlen while she tried to keep a straight face. "I'm sure he'll figure out how to get into trouble without me." She assured him, rubbing the back of her head. "Not vise versa, hopefully. I try to stay out of trouble."
no subject