(no subject)

[kremdelacreme]

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.

Comments

[el_tybs]

"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.

[slipshot]

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."

[liberalum]

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."

[arlathvhen]

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.

Have another spectator.

[savethecat]

Wanting to be useful in any way he could, Gorse was learning the layout of Skyhold by running minor errands back and forth. From time to time he stopped to watch the fighters in the training ring - it was a thing he had no skill at himself so it might as well have been magic, but ultimately he had no stomach for violence and rarely watched that long. Solo training was a little different. No one got hurt in that, which was a little kinder to all 7' of his delicate sensibilities.

It was pretty amazing to see Krem swing the maul around like it didn't weigh anything - he was used to humans not being generally smaller and weaker (no offense of course) but that was just impressive, no to ways about it. So, well, Gorse clapped. Why not?

"Wow! That was amazing!" he said when Krem stopped for the time being, voice nothing but sincere.

[issala]

"Whoa..." Pardon the very awed sound in the background. One tiny qunari in the Inquisition scout uniform was quite visibly impressed, pale blue eyes wide as he leaned on the fencing as far forward as he could. Ke'd been staring during the last half of that show, and was probably catching flies with his mouth by now.

"How do you do that? I didn't know humans could even lift something that big!" Which had more to do with the fact that the people he'd hung around with before were the rogue types, not the warrior kind. Still, that damn thing was almost the size of the person swinging it!

(Image of Galadriel in anything but a Fluttery White Gown not found.)

[laurenande]

For as bright and strange as Galadriel was, she could move without notice when she desired to. She doubted her ability to conceal her own movements was as powerful in Ferelden as it had been in Arda, but a soft step and gradual gait did much more than one might expect. Of course, the fact that she'd changed from her gown of shining white did nothing but help her move about Skyhold with greater ease.

There was nothing remarkable about the plain, Inquisition issue pants and shirt she wore, save perhaps that both were extremely ill-fitted. Her shoulders were considerable enough to fill the human cut of shirt, but it was short on both her torso and arms by nearly a handspan. Her pants, similarly, ended just at her calf. It was a look that was neither fashionable nor particularly practical, unless her goal was ease of motion and, given the blunted hardwood pole in her hand, it probably was.

Her power had all but left her, here, and though she sought to retrieve it, this world was dangerous. She would not be unfit to defend herself while she pursued her power.

It had been long millennia since she had last practiced physical combat, but she had not forgotten the forms. The guards had been quite reluctant to arm her, especially with a weapon as dangerous as pole-arms and spears were wont to be, but they had not refused to give her an analog. The staff (why the armorers had blanched when she called it such, she did not know) was tough and stood just slightly taller than she did. It would be comfortable enough to practice with, despite its failings, and she had intended to do so, but the empty training yard not empty.

She had not stopped her approach when she found the ring occupied, but she had slowed so she could take proper measure of the warrior who occupied it. His weapon was no small thing, a maul fit for a Beorning, and he hefted it with more grace and agility than Galadriel would have expected of a human. When he ceased his paces, well practiced as they were, she lingered a moment and approached.

"I doubt, in all my years, I have seen a human use such a weapon so effectively," Galadriel said, easily and honestly. "You are very skilled."