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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.

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"'s right," Krem replied around a mouthful of pie. "Guessing Harding keeps you on your toes. Long as you get some time to sit and enjoy the air at all, and you're not getting attacked by the enemy troops of the day, can't be too bad."

After a moment taken to swallow the bite he'd taken, Krem nodded to the fence before taking a moment to lift himself onto it, sitting perched with his feet on the board below, leaning with his elbows on his knees.

"Ashara...met another one of yours recently. Blonde, same tattoos. Called herself Pel. You all keeping well here?"

"She's a taskmaster, alright," He agreed happily, hopping up onto the fence as well, kicking his feet the way a child might as he finished off his pie.

"Ah - Pel." That got a bit of a sheepish smile. Of all the people for Krem to meet first... There went all hope of seeming even remotely competent, compared. "I'm not sure, to be honest with you. I'm pretty surprised they came out at all. I ah - I guess I hadn't let them know that I'd, you know, survived. So they were a bit surprised to see me." He laughed at that, rubbing a hand through his hair. Was he talking too much? He was probably talking too much. "Most of them don't spend a lot of time with humans," He explained.

"And if Merrick tries to spar with you, go easy on him, will you? Because he probably will."

"Makes sense, I don't think I've ever seen so many Dalish at a time in my life. People aren't exactly friendly to them, nor are they to others in general. I would've been more wary of Pel if she hadn't just spilled half her drink in my lap."

Krem smiled faintly, his elbows propping on his knees. He tore off part of his supper and popped it into his mouth, chewing a little more slowly, hoping to make the meal stretch out a little more.

"Merrick. I'll try to remember that. Fought with elves, I know you all aren't as fragile as you look, but I wouldn't expect you could take a hit like the rest of the Chargers, not without a lot of preparation first."

"Not exactly friendly is probably putting it mildly," Gavin said, but he said it with a teasing tilt and a wide grin. He saw the sort of wistful way that Krem was eating his meat pie, and started to search his pockets. He knew he didn't have any more pies (nipping more than two from the chef would have been risking death more closely than he would have liked) but he was sure he had - ah! There it was.

He pulled out a pear, carefully rubbed it on his shirt, and held it out for Krem, and continued on the conversation as if none of that had happened. "I'm pretty sure one hit from you and I'd go down like a stone," Gavin admitted. "Merrick might be able to take a few more, but ah - we're not exactly built to be dwarf legionares, if you know what I mean."

Krem eyed the pear, mouth immediately watering a little bit. He shook his head though. It was Gavin's food, he probably needed it more than the merc did.

"I think I hit someone once and they exploded," Krem said thoughtfully, rubbing his chin in thought. It had been gruesome, that much he could remember easily, and he'd won a sovereign for a bet over what color someone's spleen actually was. He left that out of the commentary though. He chuckled quietly; while elves were built for speed and evasion, dwarves were literally bearded rocks on legs. He'd never once met an elf that could fit that description. "Rather not explode you, you're pretty alright."

Gavin shrugged, and bit into the pear himself - he wouldn't have minded either way, but now that it was out of his pocket, it was getting eaten.

However, then Krem spoke, and he snorted so hard that a tiny piece of pear flew out of his nose, and then he had to laugh until he manage to get himself back together again.

"Creators, I'm sorry," He said, rubbing at his nose with a hand. "I can picture it. Let's not go exploding me, no. It would be very gory and not at all pleasurable for anyone involved." Well. At least not that kind of explosion. And as much as he was coming to like Krem, the man was way too intimidating to try flirting with. Yet, anyway.

"Bows, though. Bows, I can do. Just not, you know, swords. Or being anywhere near swords. Or mauls. Or daggers. Or any kind of melee-range weapon, really. At least with fire, I can just stop, drop and roll..."

Edited 2015-10-21 17:19 (UTC)

Krem almost reached out to keep Gavin from falling off the fence with that laugh. When he recovered, Krem just gave him a toothy grin and patted him hard on the back a couple times, then slid off the top of the fence and went to the rack holding the assortment of melee weapons already dented and scratched by the practicing soldiers. He picked a sword out and swung it thoughtfully, performing a couple of simple maneuvers then looking back at Gavin.

"Could teach you a little. Not as versed in swords as mauls, but I get by with it when I have to.

Gavin was cautiously trying to take another bite - careful lest Krem say something else that cause him to snort - but what came instead was a very kind, if also mildly terrifying, offer. He swallowed, and then chuckled, his ears tinting red with embarrassment.

"That sounds - that sounds like it would both probably be very good for me, and terrible, at the same time. I don't think you understand exactly how much I should stay far, far away from the front lines."

"Even someone far back in the ranks should know more than one discipline," Krem pointed out. "Someone flanks you, gets right up on your back, makes sense to have a short-range weapon. Got my knife for the easier range of motion with it just for that reason. Would've had my throat cut once or twice it I hadn't."

As he spoke, Krem tested the balance of the sword then offered a hand to Gavin to help him off the fence. "What's the worst that could happen, you accidentally bruise my arm with a dull blade?"

"I was thinking more that you accidentally give me massive internal bleeding," Gavin replied, wryly, though he offered Krem a grin and took his arm, hopping down off the fence.

"But I get the idea. I'm fond of not dying, so it's worth a try, at least."

"I know how to pull my punches, you won't end up with anything worse than a minor limp, promise," Krem chuckled and handed the blade in his hand over to Gavin, before going to fetch himself another. He spun it deftly in one hand then took a practiced stance, not perfect by any means, but steady, sure-footed.

From there, the instruction started; every move he made, he made it slowly, instructing Gavin on how to move, then coming at him in slow-motion strikes to teach him how to move into or away from them. Then he stepped back, giving the elf an upward nod. "Now come at me. Simple strike, I'll parry and move, give you an opening to strike at. Doesn't have to connect, as long as you can even follow through the move to begin with. Got it?"

He looked a little dubious, but took the offered sword, turning it over in his hands. When he looked up again, Krem was in his stance, and Gavin was sure he was in over his head. He laughed, and took as good a stance as he could - but it looked like a good gust of wind could probably blow him over.

He followed instructions as best he could - only getting distracted once to tell Krem about how he'd once watched wolves sparring, and how it reminded him of this moment, in so far as he was sure it was going to end with him whimpering as he walked away.

"Alright," Gavin said, taking the guard that Krem has showed him - blade over his right shoulder, left foot foward, right foot back, his hips facing his opponent. He breathed for half a second and then attempted the cut - diagonally, as he had been shown, stepping forward into the attack as the blade came down.

Krem had laughed some at that, assuring Gavin that if he walked away whimpering, it'd be because of a pulled muscle somewhere.

With the swing being a little slower than the average that he was used to, it was easy to read and Krem brought up his sword to counter, the blades clashing then sliding together as he parried the strike and swept it away to create an opening, though he didn't try to take that chance, moving on the spot and showing his own open side to let Gavin take his chance, though his blade was still coming, giving the elf the chance to either knock his sword away or go for that opening that would be a fatal strike in a serious fight.

Gavin took door number three - neither of options presented - and instead of either countering Krem's attack, or making a counter-thrust of his own, he danced away and off to the right, until he was far enough away that Krem couldn't possibly hit him.

The dancing, however, had put his feet off balance, and when he tried to take the stance that Krem had taught him, one foot slipped under the other and his knee hit the ground hard.

"Dead," he said with a melodramatic sigh, "Again. How many times am I dead now?"

"Three, I believe." Krem laughed and followed behind him to offer a hand up. "The idea wasn't quite to run away, just so you know. It works, but it leaves you open to being chased. Or in your case, slaughtered because you tripped over your own feet. If you were my enemy? You'd be flat."

Not that he had anything against Gavin. It was all in good humor, and he just shook his head, continuing to smile as he brushed the dirt off the elf. "Tell you what. Since you're not exactly the close-quarters type, we can call it a day, go get a drink? Last man I sparred with I might have injured a bit, rather not do that to you too."

He took the offered hand and then happily took the brush off - working himself to try to get most of the dust. (He never quite managed to get it all off.) He took the laughter and the lesson in the spirit it was meant and grinned sheepishly at Krem.

"I think it's too late to save my dignity, but I will happily save my skin and share a drink," he replied. "I think I owe you one for the lesson, at the very least."

"Nah. We can split the tab and drink until the last of that dignity's decided to take a time-out," Krem suggested, gesturing a hand out of the ring then following the way, making sure his maul was secure across his back as they went. He could put it down near his usual chair when they got back to the Herald's Rest.

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