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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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"Hmmm." Sam glances up at the woman as she looks at him expectantly from behind her mask, then looks back down. "I'm sorry, Bonny, but I don't see anything that I would need." He certainly does not need a shield. Especially not one called Magehunter. Sam smiles - a bit strained - at the Orlesian merchant and quickly walks away before she can rope him into looking at any more of her wares. Maybe if she had any materials he could use...

Bonny always has a knack for catching him when he's leaving the stables and either heading for the forge or the library. By now he would think he would learn to just say 'no', but she always says she has something he wants.

Shrugging at the whole thing, Sam walks briskly towards the stairs.

At least that was that plan until he heard grunts and the shuffling of feet. Course that had only gotten him to look as he walked past the training ring. It was who was in the training yard that had Sam slowing to a stop. Krem?

The Charger wasn't looking in his direction and Sam was a bit too fascinated to actually say anything. Instead he simply moved over and took a seat on the ground by one of the posts. He'd caught moments of Krem training with Bull by the blacksmith, but this was completely different. Mostly since he wasn't used to seeing Krem is this little armor. And him swinging that giant piece of weaponry was both fascinating and scary at the same time.

By the end of it Sam was more than a bit impressed... and intimidated.

It was only when Krem had moved off to the side and looked like he was actually done with training that Sam made himself known. He simply started clapping.

The clapping drew his attention. It wasn't the polite applause of Orlesian ladies or sarcastic accolades of his comrades, and it made him curious to see who was watching.

"Oh. It's you," he said a tad breathlessly, straightening up with his maul over his shoulder, counter-balanced by his hand resting on the pommel. He put the cup back down and made his way to the edge of the ring, offering a hand up. "Didn't realize you were even sitting there. If you want the ring I can vacate it. Or offer a partner, if you like." The grin on Krem's face very clearly spoke of the very real possibility of Sam being politely turned into paste.

Sam gives a toothy grin at the 'Oh. It's you.' comment. He feels like he's made some progress with the Charger for the fact that it sounds so matter-of-fact rather than annoyed when he sees that it's him. That and because Krem actually offers him a hand to get up. He nods his head in thanks and briskly slaps his back end to rid it of dust and pebbles.

He's about to comment that he didn't need the ring, but stops when Krem offers a partner. Or rather he stops because of the grin Krem is giving him when he says it, clearly looking for someone to pound into the ground.

"Does this offer include you teaching me how to fight, or me finding myself on my back and various other positions as you go to town on me?"

"Ignoring what that sounds like while assuming it was entirely on purpose, yes to both, depending on how well you keep up." Krem clapped him on the shoulder then shrugged his maul off, letting the heavy, spiked head of it come to rest in the dirt. Instead, he pulled the bone-handled knife from his belt and flipped it over in his hand a couple times. He wouldn't risk using the larger weapon on someone that wasn't armored, after all. He nodded back out into the center of the ring before leading the way there.

Sam blinks and tilts his head at Krem. Sounded like on purpose what? Sam makes a face as he tries to recall what he said, but lets it go when Krem pats him on the shoulder. Oh.

Oh! He seriously was going to do this? The small amount of excitement Sam feels at the prospect of actually getting taught something suddenly drops into the pit of his stomach when Krem sets the head of his weapon into the ground.

Now that he thinks about it, Sam doesn't put it past Krem to be able to throw him over his shoulder. And that's when Sam remembers what he said and exactly what it sounded like.

I'm dead.

The fact that Krem is only taking a knife into the ring, instead of his axe, isn't comforting. AT ALL. Hesitantly, Sam follows behind.

It was all in good fun at least, and Krem didn't actually look set on beating him up. He was standing up straight, feet at shoulder width and his blade flipping around his fingers, terribly dexterous with one hand as he had been with both.

"I want you to show me what you know. Attack as you see fit."

Sam watches with caution at the way Krem is flipping the dagger, his shoulders tense as he contemplates if the Charger is going to... well, charge him.

--"Attack as you see fit."

Sam blinks and looks up at Krem's face at that. "Wait. What? You have a knife and you just want me to... attack you?" Sam looks down at himself then back at Krem. He's unarmed. Granted he doesn't need a weapon to attack, but-

"Like you want me to physically attack you?"

"As you see fit," he repeats, "but if you think can lift it you can go ahead and try my weapon."

The idea of Sam picking up the maul in the first place makes him chuckle. He highly doubts that that would be a thing that happens.

"The point of this is to see what you prefer to do, and try to correct the blind spots and instability. Can't exactly put up a very good fight if someone can just-" He lashes out at this point, one foot kicking out and his heel coming around behind Sam's, pulling his legs wide while at the same time, the hand holding the knife came around under his arm, free hand wrapping around Sam's wrist. The way he was holding the knife, the blunt edge was against Sam's throat just under his jaw. If he'd been holding it correctly and wanted to finish the move, he could kill the other faster than he could retaliate. "You see?"

Edited 2015-10-18 10:16 (UTC)

Sam raises a brow and looks at the maul in question. He's rather confident in his physical strength, but even he knows he cannot pick that thing up. Well he probably could lift it. Like an inch.

He is mildly listening to Krem's words as he continues to contemplate his ability to lift the heavy weapon until he hears a break in Krem's words.

Shit!

Sam realizes his mistake too late and turns just in time to feel his body being twisted to Krem's preference. There isn't even time for Sam to let out a curse. Once everything finally settles Sam finds himself staring up at Krem with wide eyes, tilting his head back away from the cool edge of the knife.

Sam darts his tongue out to wet his lips nervously. "Point... taken." He chuckles breathlessly. For a moment Sam says nothing, but flexes his wrist to see his range of motion.

"Point is to see what I prefer to do, and correct the instability, right?"

Even though he asked, Sam doesn't wait for an answer. Instead he stops trying to balance his weight in Krem's entanglement and simply lets himself become dead weight.

At least for a second before his body glows and seemingly poofs inward, a trail of blue wisps heading off to the left.

Krem's body momentarily bows inward. A mage. A damned mage and he hadn't even let it show until now. Sneaky, and it actually manages to make Krem pause.

"Now that was good," he comments and straightens up, facing where Sam had poofed off to. His hands came to rest on his hips, knife between his fingers. "If that were faster, maybe the moment after my foot made contact, you might have found me more off-balance. Being able to read where that sudden strike is gong to be will save your life, more often than not."

A distance away, Sam phases back into the world, skipping a bit to a stop. Looking down at himself he tugs at his shirt to right it before turning and tilting his head at Krem. He smiles at hearing that the Charger is mildly impressed.

The key word is 'mildly'. Or at least that's how he sounds considering he's right back to instructing him.

Honestly he should have seen that coming. It's probably because he figures he isn't going to be killed - or is that too hopeful - by the Charger that his reaction to the attack was so terrible.

Sam doesn't let it get to him though and instead drops down into a stance. "Alright, duly noted. But do you honestly want to try that again?"

Gavin couldn't fight with a sword to save his life, so he was always somewhat in awe of those who could, and could look good, competent, and deadly while doing so. Krem definitely fit all of those categories. So he settled down with his meat pie on the wall edge, and watched.

It was a wonderful display of course, even if he couldn't follow most of it - the motions too fluid for him to be able to tell them apart, and eventually he stopped trying to learn anything (it was hopeless anyway) and just enjoyed the display of competency. When Krem was done, Gavin grinned at him and took another bite of his meat pie.

"Remind me not to get on your bad side," He said a little wryly. "Or at least if I do, to stay very far away at all times."

And who doesn't love a spectacle?

The training grounds seem more the territory of recruits, both ordinary folk and the Templars alike, a place of sword and shield and whatever manner of blunt instruments men and women alike use to kill one another. Dorian doesn't expect there to be an awful lot of magic work conducted down there, and nor does he expect there to be a designated ground for mages to show what they could do.

And yet, here he is, at an hour designed for solitude, but the sound of scuffing feet and panting breath doesn't stop him from approaching. He is dressed in his customary light leathers, unarmed, for all intents and purposes. As much as a mage can be unarmed.

He recognises Krem right away, despite being more familiar with his captain than he is with the lieutenant.

Dorian roams towards the weapons racks, continuing to watch fellow countryman out the corner of his eye. Swords of basic value are on display, already dented and rough; shields resting against wall, most of them as yet uncracked; and of course, staves, of the non-magical variety. Dorian unhooks one of decent weight and heft, balancing it against a mostly-bare shoulder. The cold has steam lifting subtle off his skin, thicker off his breath and between his words when he speaks.

"Crack a lot of heads open with that thing, I'd imagine," he says, once Krem seems to have slowed. "Fighting at your side must be as dangerous as facing you front on."

Edited 2015-10-18 13:03 (UTC)

This was certainly a scene that she didn't often see. Few of her clan would be able to wield such a maul with that kind of finesse, and after a few moments of standing there staring like a daft idiot in the middle of the path, Beleth moved aside so she could stare like a daft idiot while staying out of traffic. It was incredible, the way that he moved, and Beleth noted to herself that she would never want to get this guy pissed off at her.

She continued to stare as he took a drink, and splashed water on his face. It wasn't until after that Beleth thought that perhaps she should actually speak to him. Otherwise, it might seem weird. Because all the staring up until now hadn't been weird at all, naturally. She drifted over, fingers busy with the edge of her scarf as she glanced at the maul that he'd wielded, like it was nothing.

"That was nice swordwork--Ah. Maulwork. Um." Shit. "I mean, you swung that around--Um. Really well." Shit. "I mean...Nice job." Nailed it.

While it was better not to underestimate your sparring partner, training for real fights isn't really something that he can expect from everyone here. Krem can't blame Sam in the slightest for not being prepared for much.

"I want you to try again," he confirms with a nod. "I'm not going to go out of my way to attack you. Rather not break anything."

The sound of another voice at the edge of the ring drew Krem's attention when he straightened up, and he chuckled quietly.

"Generally people that get on my bad side don't exist for very long afterward," he replied with a shrug. Not really a brag or a threat, just matter-of-fact. "What can I do for you?"

"A fair amount," Krem replied casually, leaning on the end of the maul with the head of it in the dust. He wiped his hand across his forehead and flicked the sweat off his fingers, looking over at Dorian with his head at a tilt. Not often he could recall the mage speaking to him, at least not for more than a passing greeting. He had always been more inclined toward Bull's company than he was with the rest of the Chargers. With a quiet snort, he looked down at the spiked, heavy stone by his feet.

"Generally people know to give me a wide berth. I go in first more often than not. More intimidating, seeing a single man with a weapon made for the Avvar." He turned his attention back up to Dorian, glancing at the staff he'd picked up, a soft smirk on his lips. "Fancy a practice match?"

On the one hand, he was pretty used to stares. He got them more often than not when he actually had his weapon out. On the other, Beleth's attention was fairly amusing. He'd noticed that slack-jawed awe, but he had enough tact not to point it out. It was hard not to laugh a little at the stumble-tongued compliment though.

"Thank you. It's kept me alive more times than I can count now."

Sam chuckles. "I'm assuming when you say 'break' you're referring to me." There's a huge grin on his face while saying that. From seeing how Krem could swing around that weapon he was more than sure that Krem could probably lift him with ease.

Knowing that, Sam keeps to moving around, keeping a fair amount of distance between the two of them. His advantage will be staying at range, especially since Krem was a force to be reckoned with if he got too close, and he didn't have a weapon. Ugh.

And now the Charger knew he could use magic. At least he didn't know what kind.

Sam grins mischievously then. Nothing was going to get done by just by thinking about stuff. "You know lieutenant. If I didn't know better... I think you were actually curious about that flexing comment and wanted to get a look at my body."

Krem's eyebrow arched up some at that. He...well, he couldn't deny that he was interested to see if someone actually did intend to flex at him if he did so to begin with. He didn't actually intend to flex, but it was an amusing thought either way.

Standing up straight with his arms crossed, Krem ambles his way around the ring with an eye on Sam. "That'd be a lot more poignant coming from someone that hadn't been lusting after a show to begin with," he taunted in return. He doesn't want to trip Sam just yet. He isn't that mean. He could tease though, and tease he would.

Sam puts a hand over his heart, signalling that he was wounded by Krem's words. "If I recall I wasn't the one that had about the flexing. I was simply trying to figure out the terms." There might have been pouting at that point.

The mage sighs and raises his arms up to shrug. "Though I see you are going with that. Course it is hard to believe considering you were the one in a rush to bend me over your knee."

"Why not leave the other interested party to suss out their own terms? Not very polite of you."

The look Krem gives him is half frustration, half amusement, and he starts wondering if Sam even intends to strike, or if he's just going to taunt until one or both of them bores of it. "If this is how you intend to fight all your battles, someone may see fit to remove your tongue, fair warning."

"Well that would be a shame since it's rather talented." Sam frowns at the threat, or is at least trying to. It's hard to do so when he obviously wants to smile. "Unless that's a morbid way of you saying you want my tongue, Lieutenant."

He makes a point to give Krem a once over before taking a step forward.

"Not really in the business of removing body parts without intent to kill in the end. That's more Lady Nightingale's specialty."

If Sam really is trying to make it sound like he's fishing in Krem's head, then Krem also has ammunition for that, and at the forefront of his mind he starts to broadcast some of the Iron Bull's escapades that involve partial or full nudity. If it works, all the better, allowing him to suss out what direction Sam's talents rested in. If it doesn't, then Sam is just bullshitting him because he doesn't want to strike. If that's the case, he can lay down his arms and Krem can go check in with the Chief in case he has something he needs the rest of them to go do.

Sam actually does frown at that. He's a rather imaginative mind and picturing his tongue being cut out for interrogation isn't pleasant. He actually sticks his tongue out a bit to show his disgust.

Still, the conversation seems to be allowing him to lessen the distance slowly. Not that he plans on getting within Krem's striking range, but being too far gives too much chance for missing.

"So not into flexing, or removing body parts. What do you like to do? Besides drinking?"

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