[ OPEN ] Well I can't stand to be with myself, this liberation's seemingly rare

[ombranera]

WHO: Zevran and Various
WHAT: Zevran sparring and dealing
WHEN: Throughout Drakonis
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Violence, swearing, usual Zevran Content Warnings Apply. Open prompt below, poke me on plurk for a closed starter. Prose or actionspam welcome!

As much as he'd protested Alistair running off on some mission in the west- the time apart gives him that much more chance to train. He'd been doing so privately in the barn, occasionally squaring off against Settimo when they both had the time and patience for Settimo's paranoia and Zevran's over-adjustments for the blind side. Learning to fight with only one good eye is slowly driving Zevran to frustration. Settimo could not come at him hard enough to be a challenge, he could not learn his new limitations without a solid effort on both their parts.

Setting aside his vanity he takes to the training grounds- but working on stuffed dummies is only good for so much. Soon enough he is picking out soldiers and rogues to come at him in the dirt circle. Day to day it goes much the same. Zevran stands with bad eye covered and his swords, with his hands, with a single short sword and calls any that would step up to help him regain his awareness. It is, to be honest, slow going. More often than not if his opponent has any manner of skill he ends up on his ass. But he grits his teeth, stands, and goes at it again. And again. Afterward he recovers with the highlight of his training- a bucket of water to sluice off the sweat and grit of the day. Whether it's the relief the cold brings or the appreciative looks it tends to earn? He doesn't say. But thus he spends his days, training himself or wrestling with the fledglings, who will offer their own commentary and catcalling in Antivan during his other matches.

Comments

[dwarfing]

Shale scoffs again but drops the kidnapping subject for the other one. For now.

Crossing their arms once more, the golem looks unimpressed. True, Jonas had roped in dwarves and elves and mages with the same kind of side fussing for the big battle, but things still moved slow enough to make a golem antsy.

That, or Shale might just not like darkspawn playing god.

"The painted elf is good with words," they say with a sigh. "...but it does not stand in this place day after day, watching there be no progress in anything." They were almost as trapped here as they had been in Honnleath, doing absolutely nothing.

[ombranera]

"Perhaps a there is an excursion of some sort that needs doing. Bears that need to be killed or a swarm of geese that need smashing. We could ask Leliana, see if she knows of anything that needs tending to." A Quick (relatively) Mission of some sort would do Shale a world of good, get them out and about and killing things-

and get Zevran out and about. Killing things.

[dwarfing]

Anything involving killing things and not standing around would be outright therapeutic for the golem right now. There were so many people Shale would like to smash for being utterly annoying, and their patience wasn't endless. It would be a rather bloody day if the golem finally had enough and decided to turn someone into a pancake.

"Crushing a bear would be preferable to this." That's a yes please, Zev.

[ombranera]

"Several bears." He nods sagely, patting Shale's shoulder. Sometimes he wonders if they can even feel that- but a little violence? Solves everything.

[dwarfing]

There's some odd feeling there, like some form of spatial awareness, but it had little to do with the sense of touch. Since getting damaged was mostly annoying, it worked in the golem's favor.

"It will get its weapons." Shale says, the green nature crystals on their body flickering brighter. "Now."