faderift | (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.

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Your arcanist?" The word was unfamiliar but, from its parts, it was not hard to see the potential that such a person could provide.

She considered his suggestion carefully, even as she moved and swung a swift arc toward his shoulder. He blocked her and, as she slid her own staff back, she neatly sidestepped a blow meant to knock against her hip. He managed to block her next swing, and evaded the low strike that chased directly on the heels of that form. He nearly caught her on the backswing of his next blow, but she was able to direct his weapon's arc with a careful twist of her own.

"Arda, you mean?" Galadriel supplied and, admittedly, found it hard to concentrate on both words and the push-pull of sparring simultaneously. "It is not so different and yet, I fear, entirely unlike these lands."

It was a painfully vague answer, one she didn't elaborate on until she'd swept her staff around and deflected a thrust that he'd aimed at her lower legs.

"It is...darker," she said after a moment of contemplation. "The shadow presses far closer and with a dreadful purpose that...I do not sense here. But, it is also beautiful, shining and bright in ways I would be hard pressed to recount."

"It seems nearer than this world, though I fear that makes little sense."

"Arda," Krem repeats as he parries, then turns to return a blow, putting more of himself into the fight, as she deserves nothing less. He listens as she describes it, unable to really come up with a viable comparison that he knew of. But there were probably places in Thedas or elsewhere that were similar that he'd never seen.

"Can't say it does, but I'd love to hear more at some point, if you would perhaps find it in yourself to sit and drink with me a while," he offers with an easy smile, blocking a strike and coming in close with their polearms locked. "I've got a friend, a healer, he'd probably be interested as well."