Thread: ≒ To the Scar in the Sky We March | Dragon Age Inquisition | sixlikesgore. ≓

The compliment had threatened to bring a slight smirk to the corner of the woman's lips, but she'd held off, his next set of words wiping any smile that would've surfaced completely, replacing it with a hard look as she gripped her 'shield' tighter in her left hand. His first blow against the shield had nearly knocked her back, clearly not anticipating the power behind his arm, but she righted herself for the next swing, digging her feet into the terrain of the coast, allowing her a much more stable defense for his upcoming attacks. She'd expected him to hold himself back, even the slightest, because most did when they sparred with the Seeker, but he didn't. And it made her respect the Qunari further then she'd expected this soon. While others paraded around her title, and scolded her for being so rash and running into battles, she had a feeling Bull would fall into the category that their Inquisitor had treating her as she sought to be treated. He was trying to throw her off her game, throwing everything he could think of, and maybe some extra, in her direction. He'd nearly accomplished what he'd been attempting to do, as well. If she'd been any slower with her right hand to block his pommel, she would've surely felt that for more than a couple days worth. She didn't let herself get too confident in her movements, however, knowing the risk of getting cocky, sparring match or otherwise. Instead, she kept her mind focused, eyes narrowing as she pushed back into the tumble, insisting on her own turn to test his abilities. And although every movement her body carried into the larger body before her made her limbs wail with strain and pulsing aches already, she fought through the tension, using it to drive her harder. And much to her surprise, he paired up rather well with most of her swings and bashes, his larger weapon being all that the man needed to defend and attack. Just the brute strength behind his swings was enough to earn some respect, but the swiftness of his movements surprised the dark haired woman even further. And much to her surprise, he didn't seem to tire, either. Even as their sparring continued, carrying them back and forth between the incoming tide and their allies perched along its bank. Every encouragement, regarded at her or otherwise, barely touched base with the Seeker's acknowledgement as she put her body into the force of her next swing, having seen Bull's muscles twinge in the slightest, giving away his intent on his next movement. When her waterlogged weapon clashed with his own, the wood snapping apart from the force behind their blows, Cassandra silently thanked herself for leaving her gauntlets firmly in place, releasing the splintered plank after examining its status. Letting the larger wooden piece go that had suffered greatly under her influence as a shield, the woman clasped her hands together, brushing the splinters free from her gloves, resisting the urge to shift one of them to her ribs in inspection. Nothing was broken, he hadn't gone animalistic on her, but she knew she would be sporting a hefty bruise at the strength of the pulse she felt underneath her armor there. A smirk coiled over her lips at the man's words, her eyes lifting from the pathetic excused they'd used to spar to meet his own. As you wish, she agreed, slowly casting a glance over her shoulder towards her Inquisitor, and Varric's uncontrollably laughing form. Shaking her head, she ignored the deep urge to call the rogue out on her bet with the dwarf, having heard at least that much of their whispering back and forth, but turned her attention to the Qunari in front of her instead. You carry yourself like none other I've seen. For a moment, she paused, eyes narrowing as she searched his form, though from the look on her face, it was clear she didn't find what she'd been looking for. There were no telltale signs of where his success came from, unless you were looking just at his size, but Cassandra knew from experience that size wasn't the only thing that made a strong fighter. Part of your Ben-Hassrath training, perhaps. I've only come across one other Qunari, and she was certainly nothing like you. For a moment, Tallis flashed into her mind, but she didn't dwell on the elven Ben-Hassrath. Instead, she was greeted with a mostly full flaggon being steered into her direction by one of the Chargers, the messenger who'd first approached the Inquisition about Bull's offer. Looking down at the liquid within the cup, Cassandra gripped it more tightly, not entirely sure if it was a good idea to jump on the wagon with the rest of the men and women on the shore. It didn't take much for her to start feeling the effects of alcohol, and that was just the simple stuff that was available in their tavern. Whatever the Bull's Chargers were carrying around wouldn't even compare to what she was used to. Attempting to prolong her decision whether to put the flaggon down entirely, she lifted her head from the image of the restless liquid. I do believe our Inquisitor said you had to beat me, however. Glancing towards the woman in question, she arched a curious brow, waiting for some kind of explanation. Only it wasn't Leila who'd spoken to break the silence, Solas having relieved himself of his sitting position once the sparring was over, having taken to reading a tome to pass the time. It would appear our Inquisitor intended on hiring the Bull's Chargers regardless of the outcome. Leaning against his staff, he idly shifted his bag once more onto his shoulders. Cassandra's eyebrows slightly furrowed, but she said nothing more, accepting the fact that at least they'd had a few moments of entertainment. However, there was still quite a lot to do, and venturing back to Haven would already take up time she didn't necessarily want to waste. Then I believe we're done here, Lady Trevelyan? I'm sure there's more pressing matters we could be setting our efforts towards.. she drifted off, not wanting to voice her want to go back to their placement of home, but slightly hinting towards it. She refused to grimace, even for a moment, until she was in the confinements of a very hot bath. From the way Solas tilted his head at the Seeker's mention of it, it appeared as though the mage were also growing restless of their surroundings or perhaps just their recently acquired company.