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

"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.