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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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The boy pulls back the homemade weapon again and nods a little. "I'm going to. I think I can use a pair of daggers, or something..." His problem right now what that most of his money went to eating, because damn, there was food everywhere.

...plus he was told that if he wanted to get as big as the other qunari, he should eat meat, and that was expensive for someone who sucked at hunting.

"Needs to be something really epic to have name, though. Like yours. Totally looks like a 'Wyvernsmasher' to me!"

Krem couldn't help his laugh at that. "Doesn't smash many wyverns lately," he points out, swinging the maul a little bit then letting the head down to rest in the dust once more. "Might think of something ridiculous for it, but sounds good in another language. That way nobody's expecting it. Then they start laughing and I can flatten 'em while they're distracted."

He grins so wide at that, breaking into a bit of laughter. He could imagine it clearly... something stupid like 'carrots', only that meant 'deathblazer' in Nevarran.

Not that he spoke a word of Nevarran.

"Do you always use mauls?" The teen then asks, hanging a bit more over the rail to the sparring ring. "Do you know how to use other things, too?"

"Was trained in swords once, when I was still in the army," Krem replies, then reaches for the knife sheathed at his hip. "And this. Had this with me from the day I left home." He flips it a couple of times in his hand, then juggles it across his fingers deftly, even as he looks back at Kas. "Always good to be trained in multiple combat types. Y' never know when you'll get yourself in a situation that you can't have your mainstay with you."

"You were in the army? What army? Oh, wait, the Tevinter army, right?" Pardon his word vomit, Krem. Kas manages to shut up and looks at the knife instead, curious at first but then more and more awed as it danced between the man's fingers.

Way too cool. The teen puts the sage advice in mind, wondering if he should try learning how to use a bow.

"Are you one of the soldiers here, now? You don't have the same uniform." Not that there weren't a lot of refugees and volunteers that didn't either. Krem just seemed a lot more put together than those.

"Right," Krem replies, offering a patient little smile. Kids tended to be the same all over, it seemed. He continues to fiddle with his knife, a fidget more than anything. At the question, he shakes his head.

"Not a soldier anymore, haven't been for a few years now. At the moment I'm part of the Bull's Chargers mercenary company, lieutenant under Bull himself. We don't have much of a uniform, but we all know who we serve."

"Bull's Chargers?" Kas can't lean any further into the ring without actually falling in to it, but he beams anyway. "That's the mercenaries who joined at the Storm Coast, right? Your leader is a qunari, too!" Which was, by itself, totally awesome.

It also explained a little of why Krem wasn't giving him the stink eye, as he was more used to when it came to humans. That, or the guy was just really nice to stupid teens with hero crushes.

"No wonder you're the lieutenant, you're strong like a qunari warrior. Do you like it? I mean being in the Chargers?"

A little of both, really.

"That's right. We were at Haven, spoke to Lady Trevelyan before everything fell apart. Hasn't been easy, but it's kept us fed and paid us well, given us all more than a few interesting stories to tell. 's a better life than I would have had otherwise."

But that wasn't really what Kas was asking, was it? Krem smiles faintly, stopping the knife between his fingers and looking back at the boy. "S'pose I do. I'm glad how things've turned out for me, even with how rough it gets for us."

He pauses a bit at that, face falling a little. "I...I'm sorry she died." The teen is a brat sometimes, but he's not heartless. These people lost a savior, and that couldn't be easy for anyone.

Kas frowns a bit and rubs one of his nubs. "My kith is kind of full of assholes so I'm glad I left. Are you friends with the people in yours? They got your back and all that?"

"Me too," Krem sighs, dragging a hand through his hair and scratching some at the back of it. "She did what she'd initially set out to do, but that doesn't make it any better."

The question of his friendship with the Chargers is a decent distraction from talk of the Herald at least for the moment. "Most of them. Others I'm just acquainted with, enough to be able to lead them into battle. They trust me as much as I trust them, far as I know."

It really didn't, but... there wasn't much that could be done about that, now. From what he had heard it was amazing that she had even lived in the first place, so maybe it was just on borrowed time. Enough to close the Breach.

Kas is glad he asked about the Chargers, too, because it seemed to draw Krem out of the sad memory. It sounded like a really nice group, if they trusted each other. "How is it to have a Tal-Vashoth as a leader?"

He had to be one, right? Or a Vashoth.

Krem winces at that; if Bull had been anywhere within earshot, he might have stormed right up and probably picked Kas up by the front of his coat.

"He's not, actually. Ben-Hassrath," he replies, rubbing a hand over the side of his neck. "Proud of the fact, too. He'd go on for an hour about it if you let him."

The teen's eyes widened and he lost several shades of grey in his face. There was a bit of a strangled sound coming from his chest and he pulled away as if Krem had punched him in the face.

Ben-Hassrath. He still remembers his kith getting slaughtered, blood everywhere, rough and effective and so final. If he'd still been the same boy as back then, he'd probably be pissing himself right now.

As it was, all he could do was stare. "What!?"

Well, he couldn't say that reaction was unwarranted, even without knowing what Kas had been through.

"You'd never know it to look at him, but... yeah. He let the rest of us know because he trusts us, but it'd probably be safer not to let him know you're Vashoth. Has a lot of big, loud opinions about all that," Krem sighs, leaning against the fence at the boy's side. "But he has big, loud opinions about everything, and he wouldn't touch you without a damned good reason. Just be careful, I guess."

Even though it hadn't actually happened, it was real enough for Kas to believe it had thanks to some excellent tampering. He jerks away a bit from Krem as the man leans back next to him - and he's totally not fighting tears, shut up.

"The Ben-Hassrath killed most of my kith. My mom," he snaps, angrily wiping his face with his sleeve. "...and you're saying there's one here and everyone's okay with that?!"

Oh no, Krem. You lost some hero status.

Krem can't help his cringing at that reaction. He couldn't blame Kas in the slightest even without knowing what had happened to him, but it was still jarring after how they'd been talking up to now.

"Not really," he sighs and rubs a hand down his face. "But they can't help what he is and have at least accepted it as something that exists here. If he hadn't told most of us up-front, never would have believed it of 'im. We've all heard the stories."

"What about everyone else? Everyone's talking shit about the Magisters an stuff that I don't understand, but not about the person that's damn spy? Secret fucking police that exists to kill Tal-Vashoth?" The teen's knuckles are going white from holding himself back, gritting his teeth hard.

"You'd think the rest of the qunari here should be told, seeing we're one order away from being slaughtered!" He has no idea if they've been told or not. It seemed like a thing only the Inner Circle should have knowledge about, not the unwashed masses and scrawny teens.

Especially loud scrawny teens traumatized by the very same people.

"I thought you were awesome. I thought this place was supposed to be full of good people." Kas kicks the railing a bit. "Now I gotta look out for getting my head caved in by Wyvernsmasher rather than thinkin' it's a neat weapon."

Krem couldn't help bristling. This was a hell of a thing to think of him personally, and of his company in general.

"Let me make one thing very clear for you, boy. When we follow orders, they are not the Ben-hassrath's orders. He doesn't convert, coerce, or brainwash any of us. We work under him willingly, and if any of us hits you, it'd be for insulting our good name, not because the qunari ordered it."

He steps back at that, giving Kas a Look then picking up the maul and slinging it back into its harness across his back. He was done having this conversation.

It was perhaps a rash thing to think, but not completely unfounded considering what Krem had just said. If their leader got orders to eradicate the traitor qunari in this place, what would that mean for the Chargers? Kas sighs, leaning his forehead to the railing.

This was definitely not what he wanted to happen... but he was more scared than impressed now. Still, it makes him feel a bit empty, watching Krem get ready to walk away like that.

"Sorry."

It might not have been completely unfounded, but it was a sore spot for Krem. Perhaps he was being too hard on Kas, but he felt it best to set the record straight rather than allowing someone to think that he or any of the Chargers would sneak up on him in the night and slit his throat under orders. They didn't work for one Lady Nightingale, after all.

"We have our system of checks and balances," he sighed, rubbing his fingers into his eyes. "If Bull makes a shit order, we don't hesitate to tell him that it's a shit order. Including if it's something that he starts to do for the qunari. So try not to worry about it, alright?"

"It's a little hard not to worry," the boy admits while biting his lip slightly. "...but it's something."

It didn't mean it was true, but Krem trying to smooth it over was still appreciated. However, he knew quite well how large a mercenary group could get, and if they tried to stop this Bull - then maybe it could be done? Maybe they didn't want to see plucky teens get their throats slit.

Maybe they did.

"...thanks."

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