Vesryn was in a good mood, despite the difficulties he'd been facing lately.
The most recent of those had been blocking Estella's attacks. Stel, he reminded himself. She was very quick, decisive, without hesitation. He suspected her teacher's training had transformed her, and still was transforming her, in a similar way to how Saraya had done for him. As far as he had gathered, they were comparable ages when they had first encountered their respective tutors. Vesryn likely even had something of a head start. Still, he found her very difficult to repulse, and rarely did he properly anticipate the correct moment to counter attack. It was a good session, one he felt he'd sorely needed, and he hoped she at least gleaned something from it as well. How to attack a well armored enemy, how to get around a large shield without leaving herself exposed. That sort of thing.
But for the moment he could relax, in isolation with Saraya now that Stel had departed. She had an excellent training area, here in the bottom of their spymaster's tower. Out of the way, cool and quiet, protected from both the weather and the eyes of everyone in Skyhold. The perfect place for Vesryn to embarrass himself until he felt he was competent.
Saraya had been dormant as he'd requested for his practice with Stel, but she returned now that they had a moment. He wasn't expecting Khari for another few minutes at least. Saraya was supportive at least of his efforts to practice on his own, though as always since his return from the Fade, she was almost constantly troubled. Vesryn had noticed it slipping into his mood at times, some kind of foreign pessimism, thinking that something was going to go wrong soon. He didn't even know what, specifically, he was worried about. What she was worried about. He wished more than anything things could go back to the way they were, before the Fade, before the scream, before Nostariel died. But much like the past of the People, that couldn't be changed.
The sound of footsteps approaching outside drew his attention, and he took one more swig from his water skin, getting back to his feet and picking up the large training axe that served as the replacement for his bardiche.
Khari entered the ring with little fanfare. From the sheer lack of surprise in evidence in her expression, she'd already known it was here. Since she and Stel apparently trained together, that wasn't much of a shock. She was armored for practice, more heavily than the last time they'd had a match, but the blunt claymore in her grip was similar enough to what she'd previously used.
“Hey, Ves." She set the blade over her shoulders with one hand and put the other on her hip, flashing a smile. A bit less of one than she frequently wore for Stel or Romulus, but a smile all the same. She seemed to be in a good mood. “Stel said you were interested in another round, so Mick let me leave drills a little early. Anything you had in mind, or were we just gonna try beating on each other till I'm in the dirt again?" It didn't seem to be an entirely unappealing idea to her, based on the tone she used to say it.
"Thought I'd spare us the audience this time," Vesryn replied, returning the smile, though it soon disappeared entirely behind his helm. "Also thought I'd spare my nose." Of course, it was more than just his arresting good looks he was concerned for. Blunted or otherwise, that blade she carried had a fair amount of weight to it, and he'd seen firsthand how quickly Khari could swing it. He had no intention of revealing the disadvantage he was giving himself to begin with, as he didn't want Khari to be fighting him with any sort of different mindset or evaluation of him.
That got a laugh out of her, actually, and she unhooked something from her belt before showing it to him. It was the metal half-mask she wore sometimes. “I had the same thought about my jaw, actually." She fastened it over her face, making sure it was secure behind her pointed ears.
He took a few steps onto the well-churned dirt pit, rolling his shoulders and testing his grip on the axe. "Whenever you're ready, then."
Khari took the sword off her shoulders, stepping so that her feet were slightly further apart and gripping it firmly in both hands. Already, the way she stood seemed a little more... solid. Sure, or something like that. “Here we go, then." It was no formal signal, but it was enough for both of them to know the match had begun.
She didn't leap at him immediately, though. Instead, she circled a bit, turning the sword in her hands so it whistled dully through the air in an arc, returning to center smoothly while she still moved. Her eyes swept over his stance, clearly trying to find some kind of weakness she might exploit. Her tongue clicked against her teeth; either she'd found what she wanted, or she was tired of looking, because she sprang, going for his left-hand side.
She was fast, her swing coming in hard from the left. Vesryn shifted the shaft of the axe to intercept it, the weapon smashing against it with a resounding thud. He'd blocked too low, and the hit jarred against the side of his right hand, pain flaring through his fingers under the armored gauntlet. He reeled back a step, and in came another hit, now from the other side. He at least saw that one all the way through and rebounded it away, but he couldn't help but feel Saraya would've found a way to expose Khari with it, and immediately follow up.
Regardless, he had a window to do something, so he pushed forward and make a shoving check at her chest-level, holding his weapon horizontally, aimed to create the proper space for him to land a strike. The attack he made was a broad and heavy slash, trying to bring a crushingly heavy swing down on her diagonally. One thing that was the same regardless of having Saraya or not was his physical strength, something he would need here.
She swung up suddenly to meet it, smacking his axe away at an angle that threw open his guard. Swiftly, Khari stepped in, body-checking him while he was still off-balance from the parry. She didn't actually follow up when he hit the ground, though, a look of open confusion crossing her face as she took a step back instead. “That worked?" She sounded as incredulous as she looked, eyes wide, then narrowing quickly. “That wasn't supposed to work. Are you feeling okay, Ves?"
It was too slow, too predictable, too... something. And he'd failed to move with her parry, lost his balance as a result, and left himself completely open to the body check. Had she not been so surprised by her success he would've been defending himself from the ground, but instead he shoved himself back up, ignoring her incredulity.
"Wonderful," he answered dryly, advancing. "Stop gawking and fight me." If she remained incredulous, he'd hit her with the quick pommel strike he aimed for her gut, or the heavy horizontal swing he followed it up with, enough weight behind it to take her off her feet, if all went to plan.
The pommel strike connected, though the armor she wore there was a fair amount of protection, and it didn't stun her long enough for the second attack to connect. She recovered from her surprise and threw her body to the side, hitting the ground in a roll not unlike one of those Stel had made use of in their spar earlier. Khari, too, immediately went back on the attack, aiming for his legs this time.
It was a bloody quick roll, too, something even Saraya preferred to avoid attempting in the plate that Vesryn wore. Perhaps with some kind of advanced magic it could be made to work, but Vesryn was no arcane warrior, nor was he as quick as Khari. Maybe it was just the lack of guidance from Saraya, but Khari seemed a great deal quicker than she had been when last they fought. Much had changed since then, he supposed. The hit connected with the back of his right leg, taking him to a knee. A sharp weapon would've done much more damage than that. He managed to get his pommel around her side and shove her away before another followup strike could be made.
Still, she was attacking as soon as he'd regained his feet. He blocked the first strike, went to retaliate with an elbow, but she ducked under it. Short, annoying woman. He took another hit to his side, armor saving him from most of it. Gritting his teeth, he reached to grapple her by the arm, but she twisted around that too, using his own arm against him to give a hard shoulder bash into his back. He only barely regained his balance in time to get his weapon in front of the heavy swing she aimed at him next, but the recoil of it still drove him to a knee for a moment.
He growled, shaking out his arms. "The Lord Inquisitor teach you that one? You two doing much wrestling in there, I suppose?"
She backed off again, more deliberately this time. “Uh... yeah? Rom's really good at grappling and stuff, so I asked him to teach me how. Or he volunteered. I don't remember which." His tone seemed to throw her a bit, but that alone didn't explain why she'd stopped attacking a second time. Her brows furrowed heavily over her eyes; she looked almost uneasy, though the mask made it hard to tell for sure.
“Look, are you going to tell me what's going on here? I've gotten better since Haven and all, but I know I'm not this much better. You're not acting like you're holding back for my sake, and thank you for that, but what gives?" She seemed genuinely concerned, and it was clear enough that Stel had not given her this particular set of details.
Vesryn sighed. And here he'd hoped he would be able to put up a decent enough fight to at least get through most of it without her pulling up and forcing him to explain. He held his arms a bit out to the sides. "What you see here is a demonstration of how well I fight without Saraya's help. Very impressive, I know." He flipped his axe around and planted the butt into the dirt. "Fierce for a city elf, I'm sure, but not much compared to demons."
He pulled his helmet off, running a gloved hand through the sweat-slicked silver hair that came tumbling out. "The demon we faced in the Fade at Adamant affected my mind. Saraya was forced to withdraw in order to keep me functioning. Our battles didn't go well. And you know how it turned out." Five stumbling, bleeding, weary and wounded souls coming out of a rift, where six had entered. It wasn't hard to fill in some details, even if she didn't know the story.
"I didn't tell you because I'd hoped to face you before you knew. Apparently I'm not a match for that, though. If you'd prefer we return to the way it was at Haven, I'm sure Saraya will indulge you." Even now he could feel confidence in his mind from her. Saraya never stopped studying those she might be forced to fight. "But I need to become someone that can be relied on, in the event that I find myself on my own again."
“You could have just said so. Would have been able to do this without worrying that you were hiding an injury or something stupid." Khari's tone was very matter-of-fact; clearly she wasn't especially pleased with the deception involved, but she chose not to dwell on it. “You wanna be better by yourself, right? So fight me by yourself. There are plenty of people around here to kick my ass—I'll get that on my own time." She reset her stance, adopting something a bit more defensive this time.
“Let's do this again, shall we?" Several bright teeth were visible at the mask's grated gaps, suggesting a grin; clearly any transgression on his part was easily forgiven.
Before she faded away once more, Vesryn felt a bit of disappointment from Saraya. Hoping to pummel the would-be chevalier elf just once. But it was as Khari said: she had her regular training for that. This was for Vesryn, and for him alone.
He'd have to remind himself of that, every time she gave him a new bruise.
He dropped his helmet back down into place and took his axe in both hands. "There's no one I'd rather dance with, little bear."
The most recent of those had been blocking Estella's attacks. Stel, he reminded himself. She was very quick, decisive, without hesitation. He suspected her teacher's training had transformed her, and still was transforming her, in a similar way to how Saraya had done for him. As far as he had gathered, they were comparable ages when they had first encountered their respective tutors. Vesryn likely even had something of a head start. Still, he found her very difficult to repulse, and rarely did he properly anticipate the correct moment to counter attack. It was a good session, one he felt he'd sorely needed, and he hoped she at least gleaned something from it as well. How to attack a well armored enemy, how to get around a large shield without leaving herself exposed. That sort of thing.
But for the moment he could relax, in isolation with Saraya now that Stel had departed. She had an excellent training area, here in the bottom of their spymaster's tower. Out of the way, cool and quiet, protected from both the weather and the eyes of everyone in Skyhold. The perfect place for Vesryn to embarrass himself until he felt he was competent.
Saraya had been dormant as he'd requested for his practice with Stel, but she returned now that they had a moment. He wasn't expecting Khari for another few minutes at least. Saraya was supportive at least of his efforts to practice on his own, though as always since his return from the Fade, she was almost constantly troubled. Vesryn had noticed it slipping into his mood at times, some kind of foreign pessimism, thinking that something was going to go wrong soon. He didn't even know what, specifically, he was worried about. What she was worried about. He wished more than anything things could go back to the way they were, before the Fade, before the scream, before Nostariel died. But much like the past of the People, that couldn't be changed.
The sound of footsteps approaching outside drew his attention, and he took one more swig from his water skin, getting back to his feet and picking up the large training axe that served as the replacement for his bardiche.
Khari entered the ring with little fanfare. From the sheer lack of surprise in evidence in her expression, she'd already known it was here. Since she and Stel apparently trained together, that wasn't much of a shock. She was armored for practice, more heavily than the last time they'd had a match, but the blunt claymore in her grip was similar enough to what she'd previously used.
“Hey, Ves." She set the blade over her shoulders with one hand and put the other on her hip, flashing a smile. A bit less of one than she frequently wore for Stel or Romulus, but a smile all the same. She seemed to be in a good mood. “Stel said you were interested in another round, so Mick let me leave drills a little early. Anything you had in mind, or were we just gonna try beating on each other till I'm in the dirt again?" It didn't seem to be an entirely unappealing idea to her, based on the tone she used to say it.
"Thought I'd spare us the audience this time," Vesryn replied, returning the smile, though it soon disappeared entirely behind his helm. "Also thought I'd spare my nose." Of course, it was more than just his arresting good looks he was concerned for. Blunted or otherwise, that blade she carried had a fair amount of weight to it, and he'd seen firsthand how quickly Khari could swing it. He had no intention of revealing the disadvantage he was giving himself to begin with, as he didn't want Khari to be fighting him with any sort of different mindset or evaluation of him.
That got a laugh out of her, actually, and she unhooked something from her belt before showing it to him. It was the metal half-mask she wore sometimes. “I had the same thought about my jaw, actually." She fastened it over her face, making sure it was secure behind her pointed ears.
He took a few steps onto the well-churned dirt pit, rolling his shoulders and testing his grip on the axe. "Whenever you're ready, then."
Khari took the sword off her shoulders, stepping so that her feet were slightly further apart and gripping it firmly in both hands. Already, the way she stood seemed a little more... solid. Sure, or something like that. “Here we go, then." It was no formal signal, but it was enough for both of them to know the match had begun.
She didn't leap at him immediately, though. Instead, she circled a bit, turning the sword in her hands so it whistled dully through the air in an arc, returning to center smoothly while she still moved. Her eyes swept over his stance, clearly trying to find some kind of weakness she might exploit. Her tongue clicked against her teeth; either she'd found what she wanted, or she was tired of looking, because she sprang, going for his left-hand side.
She was fast, her swing coming in hard from the left. Vesryn shifted the shaft of the axe to intercept it, the weapon smashing against it with a resounding thud. He'd blocked too low, and the hit jarred against the side of his right hand, pain flaring through his fingers under the armored gauntlet. He reeled back a step, and in came another hit, now from the other side. He at least saw that one all the way through and rebounded it away, but he couldn't help but feel Saraya would've found a way to expose Khari with it, and immediately follow up.
Regardless, he had a window to do something, so he pushed forward and make a shoving check at her chest-level, holding his weapon horizontally, aimed to create the proper space for him to land a strike. The attack he made was a broad and heavy slash, trying to bring a crushingly heavy swing down on her diagonally. One thing that was the same regardless of having Saraya or not was his physical strength, something he would need here.
She swung up suddenly to meet it, smacking his axe away at an angle that threw open his guard. Swiftly, Khari stepped in, body-checking him while he was still off-balance from the parry. She didn't actually follow up when he hit the ground, though, a look of open confusion crossing her face as she took a step back instead. “That worked?" She sounded as incredulous as she looked, eyes wide, then narrowing quickly. “That wasn't supposed to work. Are you feeling okay, Ves?"
It was too slow, too predictable, too... something. And he'd failed to move with her parry, lost his balance as a result, and left himself completely open to the body check. Had she not been so surprised by her success he would've been defending himself from the ground, but instead he shoved himself back up, ignoring her incredulity.
"Wonderful," he answered dryly, advancing. "Stop gawking and fight me." If she remained incredulous, he'd hit her with the quick pommel strike he aimed for her gut, or the heavy horizontal swing he followed it up with, enough weight behind it to take her off her feet, if all went to plan.
The pommel strike connected, though the armor she wore there was a fair amount of protection, and it didn't stun her long enough for the second attack to connect. She recovered from her surprise and threw her body to the side, hitting the ground in a roll not unlike one of those Stel had made use of in their spar earlier. Khari, too, immediately went back on the attack, aiming for his legs this time.
It was a bloody quick roll, too, something even Saraya preferred to avoid attempting in the plate that Vesryn wore. Perhaps with some kind of advanced magic it could be made to work, but Vesryn was no arcane warrior, nor was he as quick as Khari. Maybe it was just the lack of guidance from Saraya, but Khari seemed a great deal quicker than she had been when last they fought. Much had changed since then, he supposed. The hit connected with the back of his right leg, taking him to a knee. A sharp weapon would've done much more damage than that. He managed to get his pommel around her side and shove her away before another followup strike could be made.
Still, she was attacking as soon as he'd regained his feet. He blocked the first strike, went to retaliate with an elbow, but she ducked under it. Short, annoying woman. He took another hit to his side, armor saving him from most of it. Gritting his teeth, he reached to grapple her by the arm, but she twisted around that too, using his own arm against him to give a hard shoulder bash into his back. He only barely regained his balance in time to get his weapon in front of the heavy swing she aimed at him next, but the recoil of it still drove him to a knee for a moment.
He growled, shaking out his arms. "The Lord Inquisitor teach you that one? You two doing much wrestling in there, I suppose?"
She backed off again, more deliberately this time. “Uh... yeah? Rom's really good at grappling and stuff, so I asked him to teach me how. Or he volunteered. I don't remember which." His tone seemed to throw her a bit, but that alone didn't explain why she'd stopped attacking a second time. Her brows furrowed heavily over her eyes; she looked almost uneasy, though the mask made it hard to tell for sure.
“Look, are you going to tell me what's going on here? I've gotten better since Haven and all, but I know I'm not this much better. You're not acting like you're holding back for my sake, and thank you for that, but what gives?" She seemed genuinely concerned, and it was clear enough that Stel had not given her this particular set of details.
Vesryn sighed. And here he'd hoped he would be able to put up a decent enough fight to at least get through most of it without her pulling up and forcing him to explain. He held his arms a bit out to the sides. "What you see here is a demonstration of how well I fight without Saraya's help. Very impressive, I know." He flipped his axe around and planted the butt into the dirt. "Fierce for a city elf, I'm sure, but not much compared to demons."
He pulled his helmet off, running a gloved hand through the sweat-slicked silver hair that came tumbling out. "The demon we faced in the Fade at Adamant affected my mind. Saraya was forced to withdraw in order to keep me functioning. Our battles didn't go well. And you know how it turned out." Five stumbling, bleeding, weary and wounded souls coming out of a rift, where six had entered. It wasn't hard to fill in some details, even if she didn't know the story.
"I didn't tell you because I'd hoped to face you before you knew. Apparently I'm not a match for that, though. If you'd prefer we return to the way it was at Haven, I'm sure Saraya will indulge you." Even now he could feel confidence in his mind from her. Saraya never stopped studying those she might be forced to fight. "But I need to become someone that can be relied on, in the event that I find myself on my own again."
“You could have just said so. Would have been able to do this without worrying that you were hiding an injury or something stupid." Khari's tone was very matter-of-fact; clearly she wasn't especially pleased with the deception involved, but she chose not to dwell on it. “You wanna be better by yourself, right? So fight me by yourself. There are plenty of people around here to kick my ass—I'll get that on my own time." She reset her stance, adopting something a bit more defensive this time.
“Let's do this again, shall we?" Several bright teeth were visible at the mask's grated gaps, suggesting a grin; clearly any transgression on his part was easily forgiven.
Before she faded away once more, Vesryn felt a bit of disappointment from Saraya. Hoping to pummel the would-be chevalier elf just once. But it was as Khari said: she had her regular training for that. This was for Vesryn, and for him alone.
He'd have to remind himself of that, every time she gave him a new bruise.
He dropped his helmet back down into place and took his axe in both hands. "There's no one I'd rather dance with, little bear."