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

She was born as Lady Leilani Keira Evelyn Trevelyan. Only her father, Bann Trevelyan, still called her that. And Josephine as well; a force of habit, perhaps, given the long-standing relationship between House Trevelyan of Ostwick and House Montilyet of Antiva. However, she was determined to correct the diplomat as many times as necessary, until she simply referred to her as "Leila."

The youngest child of House Trevelyan, Leila had always been the rebellious sort. The only daughter with three older brothers, it was perhaps no surprise that the young blonde didn't grow up to be a proper lady, much preferring twin daggers over any fanciful dolls. Not even a proper warrior, but a rogue, something that always made her old man roll his eyes. But, after raising three boys, Bann Trevelyan was content to simply let her "grow wild," whatever that meant.

Mischief was practically her middle name, but her latest accomplishment put all the rest to shame. Well, to be fair, she hardly doubted that giant scar in the sky was her fault, but then again, she didn't remember much, and told the Lady Seeker even less. In a matter of days, she'd gone from being a free-spirited adventurer to...well, an adventurer, just one wearing a different title and constantly under the watchful eyes of one Cassandra Pentaghast. And that creepy mage Solas, but she rather just pretended that he didn't exist outside of a conveniently placed Barrier or two.

She'd whined, of course. Oh how she had pouted and pleaded and did her best puppy dog impression, even attempting to sneak away in the dark of the night...but the Lady Seeker was quite good at seeking, as her title suggested. Eventually, the young rogue gave up. Fine, there's a bloody hole in the sky, and apparently this rather shiny but kind of painful green mark in her hand could fix it. She supposed she could spare a few weeks saving the world before going about her life drinking fine wine and seducing lovely women. But, she would do this as Leila the charming rogue, Inquisitor if they insist, and even an occasional exception could be negotiated for Lady Trevelyan...but she absolutely drew the line at Herald of Andraste. Please, please, she wasn't some wrinkly old lady, she'd rather slit her own throat (or theirs), before willingly donning such a pretentious and lameeee hat.

Now then, first order of business...a most amusing man-woman had showed up earlier speaking of a group of mercenaries called Bull's Chargers. She wasn't judging of course, merely curious - people were free to do whatever they want, or she guessed, be whoever they want. She wasn't all that interested at first, listening half-heartedly, until the words Venatori and alcohol were mentioned. Fighting and wine? Now she's game.

To the Storm Coast!

To the Scar in the Sky We March (Dragon Age Inquisition fandom with sixlikesgore.)

Out of the many things that could describe the seventy-eighth in line for the Nevarran throne, dedicated came hand-in-hand with her brash and impulsive behavior. With the Templars abandoning the Chantry, the Circle of Magi no longer in existence, and the loss of their Divine, many were confused as to where their place in this new epidemic laid. Where most tried to use the Breach as an excuse to gain power, or ran in the opposite direction in hopes of ignoring it altogether, Cassandra Pentaghast did everything in her power to put the Inquisition into full force with the help of their Spymaster, just as Divine Justina had ordered. And, either by the Maker's will, or just plain coincidence, the only person alive who could seal their fears had finally come to terms with her place among their order - even if it'd taken a few too many stern looks, and midnight escape preventatives to make her come around.

In the beginning, when Leila had been her prisoner, Cassandra hadn't had much hope in finding any solutions. But after they'd stop the Breach from spreading, a certain flutter of hope had started to bubble in the pit of her stomach. They weren't completely useless against his force, whatever it was. They just needed to find the correct answers to the correct questions.

And, for some reason, a mercenary company thought they might be an answer to some of those questions. Not being opposed to the idea of help, but wary about the leader in question of these Bull's Chargers was no doubt lingering in the back of her mind the entire trip to the Storm Coast. But, if their Inquisitor felt the need to make an appearance, she wasn't going to object. It was rumored that the leader was a member of the Qunari, a strict and strong religion that Cassandra wasn't that highly opinionated on, choosing to remain mostly indifferent to their views on life, knowing that there was nothing she could do to implicate her opinions against them. But getting a chance to work with a member of the Qun that was involved in Thedas, however, was going to prove most interesting.

Their arrival to the wet outskirt was calm at first, nothing but the raging sound of the nearby tides, and pattering rain to unsettle the nerves. As scout Harding took up her position with the Inquisitor to fill in her report, Cassandra's eyes scattered around their officially made camp. It wasn't the best location to be, with the skies constantly raining down upon them, but there wasn't much to complain about, either. As far as she could see, no immediate threats of rifts were located around them, so she was able to lay a bit of her nerves on ease.

"We're here for the wine, aren't we, Seeker?" Varric leaned in to ask Cassandra, Harding still busy finishing up her report. An annoyed rasp left the back of the woman's throat, and she crossed her arms in an attempt to show him that she wasn't putting too much effort into bantering back at him. "We're here because these mercenaries could help. Something I'm very doubtful you can provide, beyond your sarcasm." she answered back coldly, eyebrows pinched together. At the sound of their leader approaching, Cassandra's facial expression softened, caramel eyes seeking out the rogue's. "We're ready when you are, Inquisitor. The faster we get this over with, the faster we can return to Haven. I'd much rather deal with the chill in the air over this constant pour."

As they neared the path, the Seeker's right hand firmly grasping the hilt of her sword just in case, a distant sound of clashing carrying with the sound of the harsh waters. "It sounds like they have company," she mused as the sea's bank came into view, mercenaries and Venatori battling for dominance. Glancing from the sight before them to the blond haired woman to her right, she nodded approvingly as she pulled her sword and shield from their designated locations, ready to wade in whenever the order was given. "On your word, Leila."

RE: To the Scar in the Sky We March (Dragon Age Inquisition with sixlikesgore.)

If not for the entirely too enticing skirmish breaking out upon the sea's bank, Leila would've definitely gushed over her name. Cassandra Pentaghast, the Seeker with a stick up her ass, calling her anything but "You" or "Inquisitor?" There was hope for this woman yet! But, as the battle seemed to be going in favor of the mercenaries, she would have hated to miss out on the fun.

"Last one to lay low a Venatori is a rotten pig!" That was about as close to an order as Cassandra was ever going to get from her. The rogue's form blurring, stepping into stealth even as she charged, the very edge of a barrier catching her form before she'd ran too far. A single bolt pierced the air besides her, darting ahead even faster - she rode behind the arrow, her twin daggers biting into the Spellbinder's back even as Varric's Long Shot shattered the man's barrier.

"My kill~" She chimed, blowing a raspberry at her favorite crossbow-wielder, before melding into the shadows once more. If the tides of battle were slightly in the favor of the mercenaries before, then their arrival might as well been a tsunami that all but swept the Venatori away. As she disposed of her last prey - twin slashes through the man's throat from behind, vivid arcs of sanguine splashing forward as if a pretty fountain in her father's courtyard - Leila was almost disappointed to find that no enemies remained. A disappointment short-lived as she soon found the next most amusing thing to train her attention on.

"Chargers, stand down!"

The baritone voice might as well have been a war-horn, such was the commanding presence behind the voice, a command all the mercenaries seemed to obey, sheathing their swords. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the man whose voice rang above all others, those pretty silvers widening in surprise upon seeing this huge Quanari standing there. The rain poured over his muscular frame, every pale scar littering his form seemed to glisten, his ashen gray skin contrasted by those charcoal horns. Giant fucking horns. Damnnn, the rogue thought, letting the blood clean her daggers before sheathing them. If her training dummies had looked anything like this, she definitely would have paid a lot more attention while being taught about the varying muscle groups. Because holy shit, he was ripped.

"That's what I like to hear. Let the Throatcutters finish up then break out the casks."

The Quanari did not address their group right away, choosing instead to speak to his lieutenant, the one that had visited Haven prior. His booming voice continued, even as those surprisingly pale green eyes, a shade almost gentle if not set under those prominent brow bones, surveyed the scene. Leila skipped over, finding herself needing to look up - she wasn't even short, but Iron Bull was just...wow!

"I hope you are breaking out the good stuff~" She echoed, her lip quirking, indicating her interest.

"So, you are with the Inquisition huh?" His amusement colored his words as he gazed down at the human female, but his words were polite, as was his nod of acknowledgment. "Come on, take a seat, drinks are coming."

At this range, she could see even more scars, on his high cheekbone, his forehead, even one breaking the continuity of his mustache. Surprisingly though, the scars didn't take away from him. If anything, they only made him seem more masculine, more intriguing. Her silvers kept flitting back to his horns - she reaaaally wanted to try hanging off of those. But she kept that innocent desire under lids, for now. She hated to get chewed out by Cassandra again, and, as the glance behind her revealed, the rest of her party was closing in.

"Nice horns, Iron Bull." She sing-songed, not even asking whether that was his name, but judging from his laugh, she presumed correctly. "You can call me Leila, or, the girl with the freaky glowing green hand, if you preferred." Gesturing behind her, she pointed to the rest of her party members, indicating that they would be joining this discussion as well. "Meet my humble party, an elven mage, a dwarf obsessed with his crossbow," a pause, smirking as flourished with her hands, as though to herald someone of great importance, "and of course Lady Seeker, 78th in line for the Nevarran throne, Right Hand of the Divine and--" She skipped a few steps to the right, making sure she was well out of Cassandra's range. "I'm just kidding. They can introduce themselves."

RE: To the Scar in the Sky We March (Dragon Age Inquisition with sixlikesgore.)

Formalities, as much as Cassandra wasn't a fan of them, tended to drive hard in her mannerisms. Such is why it was hard for the dark hared woman to remind herself of their Inquisitor's preferred title; her nickname, rather than something as formal as 'Inquisitor'. It more than likely came from the fact that she'd been called so many high things in her lifetime, Seeker and the Divine's Right Hand being the highest among them. The 'order' that the rogue gave them only clarified the difference between their way of addressing things, Cassandra knowing she'd use something along her lines to tell her group of companions to charge in, but that was the way of things. Their leader had a sense of humor that was, even though she didn't admit it, refreshing to be around. Much better than Varric's, that was certain.

All she had to do was hear the words 'last one' and Cassandra was charging down the hill towards the heat of the battle, her sword and shield at the ready. As soon as she was in earshot of the fighting bodies, she let out a loud roar, gaining the attention of two Venatori that'd started to close in on a dalish member of the Chargers. With their attention now honing in on her, she grinned, her blood flaring within her veins as the heat of the battle started to pump within her. The first closed in, leaving the second to remain behind, throwing a barrier up around the two of them. Cassandra paid no heed, lunging forward with her sword, lashing at the first member of the Venatori. Her blade connected with the man's torso, and with her momentum, she swiveled her foot, carrying the blade out into a spin as he gasped. Leaving him in his attempt to recompose himself, the warrior swiftly continued in her strike, lifting her shield to block an oncoming electric ball that the spellcaster released from his staff. He'd clearly assumed that she wasn't going to block his attack, and when she bashed her shield into his body, sending him off his feet, she couldn't help but feel a bit of a smug smirk ghost at the corner of her lips.

Plunging her sword into the man's vital organs, giving him a swift death, she pivoted in order to face the remaining Venatori, only to see Solas had quickly dispatched of him. After giving a soft nod of approval in the apostate's direction, she charged towards the remaining of the Venatori to help dwindle them down, whose numbers had fallen little in the small amount of time the Inquisition group had waded in.

As the last man was taken care of, Cassandra heaved her shield back into its rightful place, more concerned with cleaning her blade of its filth before she settled it at her waist. Even so, as she cleaned her weapon, her eyes never left the two leaders as Leila made her way towards the Chargers' enforcer. It'd been some time since she'd been involved with the Qun, indirectly or otherwise, but she couldn't tell what to make from the company she saw before them. At first glance, they looked like a group of savages, but she knew that wasn't an appropriate judgment. After all, the Inquisition wasn't seen as anything but a group of heretics in the Chantry's eyes. It still didn't make her feel better about the situation, though; these mercenaries already seemed to come with enemies. She wasn't sure if the Inquisition could afford anymore than the ones they already had to face.

Varric and Solas came to rest at her sides as she observed the encounter between their Inquisitor and Iron Bull, slowly bringing her blade up to slide it back into its sheath. "We should intervene, before we lose her to his company," she mused, not entirely joking about the idea. She could easily see Leila signing on to slaughter things for a hefty price. It seemed to suit her better than Herald of Andraste status, at least. The dwarf chuckled, seeing the same perspective about their dual-bladed rogue, while Solas simply remained silent, the pinched look on his face making it clear he was more uncomfortable about being in their current location than she was. Although, upon approaching the two, and hearing their leader's rather 'impressive' start at their introductions, Cassandra's face was almost mimicking their elven apostate's. The clench of her fists clearly demonstrated that Leila's thought to dance out of her reach was a smart one, leaving her to huff at the over-shared information. It was bad enough she couldn't go much of anywhere without someone asking her about a dragon, or her impressive abilities as a Seeker. Not to mention, it nearly felt like she was related to almost everyone she swept across because of her heritage.

"You forgot to mention she belongs to the family that nearly wiped out dragons-" A brash cuff upside the back of the dwarf's head cut off Varric's teasing tone, causing him to yelp and take a few steady paces away in retreat to rub the area affected. "You can call me Cassandra, or Lady Seeker if that is what you prefer." She begrudgingly announced afterwards, crossing her arms in defeat over her chest plate as her caramel eyes came to rest on the Qunari sitting before them.

"Varric Tethras," the dwarf eventually managed to conclude to the introductions, still rubbing the slightly sore spot on his head. "And before you ask, the crossbow's Bianca. No, I'm not explaining it, so don't ask." He clarified, figuring since Leila had informed Bull of his 'obsession', he might need one. Telling him she had a name probably didn't make Leila's words seem any less true.. Upon Solas' silence, Cassandra glanced towards the elf, who eventually spoke his name through tightly pressed lips, his distrust clearly visible. Pushing past the small moment of silence after everyone was on a first name basis, Cassandra's eyes address the Qunari before her once more, arms remaining in their crossed position. "I'm assuming you've already spoken to Leliana and made arrangements for payment?" Where Josephine was going to get the funds for their services, she honestly had no idea, but she knew better than to question a Montilyet - now, at least.

RE: To the Scar in the Sky We March (Dragon Age Inquisition with sixlikesgore.)

Iron Bull did not seem surprised to meet the rag-tag Inquisition party. He made no secret, after all, of his allegiance to the Ben-Hassrath, but had promised that the information would be a two-way street. Given his training, to have gathered this much facts was only to be expected. The tall Qunari allowed his gaze to survey each companion as they were introduced, greeting each with a friendly but dignified smile. His posture was relaxed, easygoing, but nevertheless it was hard for anyone to stare at all those rippling muscle and ginormous horns without feeling intimidated.

It was to Cassandra that he directed his next remark, viridians gleaming with confidence. "Your ambassador, what's her name, Josephine, we'll go through her and get the payments set up. Gold will take care of itself." He paused, catching on, "Sounds like we are hired?" His gaze swept the Inquisition party, but paying attention primarily to Leila and Cassandra. Leila, because she appeared to lead the group one way or another. Cassandra, because who haven't heard of the royal-blooded Seeker? Even if he didn't already have a file on her, he would have been able to tell by the stern arc of her brows alone - she was the responsible one in this party, and her words, no doubt, held the most sway over the devil-may-care Inquisitor.

An Inquisitor that seemed to have already made up her mind in any event. "So Bull, I'm going to call you Bull, I might just sign you and your chargers..." She let the word trail off, silvers glinting mischievously as she took a step closer to the tall Qunari, jabbing at his impressive bicep with a finger. "IF you can beat Cassandra here in a fight." Her grin equally impish, a giggle escaping her. Her mirth quickly fled at everyone's deadpan expression. With the exception of Varric, who looked greatly entertained by this turn of events. "What! It will be fun right? Entertainment while everyone drinks?" She protested, flailing her slender arm in emphasis. Letting the words sink in, attempting to sway their decisions otherwise.

Bull looked at Cassandra, then at Leila, then at Cassandra again, before laughing heartily without the slightest hint of malice. "I would never turn down a good sparring match, What do you say, Seeker?" His eyes genuine, acknowledging her without the slightest hint of condescension. Odd, perhaps, coming from a Qunari male - after all, it was well known that Qunari women did not fight. But Bull's own lifestyle could hardly be described as following the rigorous ideals of the Qun, being a mercenary and all.

"Ooo this should be good," Leila murmured under her breath, her gaze shifting rapidly from the one to the other, her eyes burning with excitement. A step back, nudging the dwarf as she lowered her voice. "A gold piece Cassandra beat him."

Varric stroked his chin, despite his pathetic excuse of a beard. "You are on - I bet they tie."

"What, that's not an option!" The blonde rogue complained, crossing her arms as she pouted, but her lack of further protest indicating that she took the deal. Both the dwarf and the Inquisitor looked to Cassandra now, waited with bated breath. She was ever so serious, after all, and this was all the manners of foolish. Then again, the more time Leila spent with the austere Seeker, the more she realized that Cassandra was not incapable of humor, albeit of a rather dry variety. Perhaps there was hope yet?

RE: To the Scar in the Sky We March (Dragon Age Inquisition with sixlikesgore.)

As expected, the darker skinned woman had already taken care of the payment preparations before they'd even made their way to the Storm Coast, no doubt assuming that someone like Leila would sign Bull on without hesitating. As the male Qunari asked if they were hired, she was about to give a subtle nod, indicating that him and his Chargers were in fact hired on, when their Inquisitor's voice chimed in. She sunk back her nod, listening vaguely at the woman's words up until she heard her own name, and then the proposition that she'd given the much taller, and broaden man. At first, she thought she'd misheard the woman, replaying Lelia's words over in her mind just to make sure. When they rang again, hearing that word fight ring so effortlessly from the rogue's vocabulary, her face mimicked Solas' in all manner of confusion and shock. The warrior fell silent with the group, completely unsure of what to even say.

"Surely you're not.." she began, about to question the proposition until Lelia egged it further on. "You are serious. I should have known," Cassandra grunted under her breath, her arms falling from their crossed posture to hang at her sides. It was a very good thing that the rogue had stayed so far away from the warrior, but if she was going to proceed with this spar, then the urge to throttle something would be useful. Hopefully. Against a Qunari of that size, the Seeker of Truth was extremely wary. One of the many reasons whys he was on the fence about the Inquisition assembling an alliance with him and his company; if he so wished to lash out, what was stopping him? He clearly hadn't earned those scars from training exercises, and the eye patch.. At the sound of Iron Bull's voice, speaking her familiar title, she snapped to from her thoughts, just now realizing she'd been slightly lost in thought, her eyes scanning along the contours of his muscles. Glancing over her shoulder towards the two rogues who'd taken to making bids, she let out another grunt, turning her attention back to Bull.

"I don't think the Inquisitor's planning on leaving the Coast until I agree." Deespite her words, there was a small tone to her voice that hinted - even if only well enough for Bull to pick up on - she was slightly looking forward to this. Narrowing her gaze as she looked at the man, she slowly pulled her sword from her side, carrying it over to the trunk of a tree. Leaning her blade against it snugly, she did the same with her shield, the woman's eyes lingering on the Seeker's emblem for a moment before she turned to face her to-be opponent. As she approached him again, she slowly came to a stand still, arms relaxed at her side, as she sized him up once more. "Are there any rules you'd like to implicate before we start, Iron Bull?" she inquired, arching a delicate brow as she coiled her mind. They hadn't been in battle with a worthy opponent in a while, so her need for aggressive release was extremely high - the constant teaming up from the two rogues she was now around on a regular basis only added to the pent up emotion. "I'd hate to cross a line."

The elf who'd remained quiet ever since his vague introduction stirred slightly as he watched the Lady Seeker ready herself, and set out a base ground for rules. Holding his staff within both his hands, he leaned his weight mostly onto the weapon, eyes concentrating more so on the Ben-Hassrath than their own female warrior. He might not agree to have a drink, but getting a chance to see how the Qunari handled himself would prove useful, all in itself, even if he wasn't fond of the male's religious and life choices.

RE: To the Scar in the Sky We March (Dragon Age Inquisition with sixlikesgore.)

It was the Inquisitor's brows that knitted when Cassandra removed her sword and shield, laying the weapons respectfully against a tree trunk. That wasn't what she had intended! The slim rogue wearing a slight pout as she looked from one to the other - Bull's expression remained the same, self-assured but not condescending. Cassandra, on the other hand, looked like she was itching for a fight. But still, Leila had already made up her mind - this was in truth just entertainment. As long as Bull had put up a good showing, even if he lost, she would probably sign the Chargers anyway, especially since she knew well from traveling with Cassandra just how good a warrior the woman was. Whether or not she agreed to the prim and proper demands the Seeker made of her, Leila would admit that she trusted the woman with her back.

But like, being a good warrior was one thing, but brawling unarmed with that massive Qunari? What was Cassandra planning on doing, grab onto his horns and pummel him to submission? She paused at the thought, grinning, nudging Varric a little bit again, muttering under her breath. She was quite sure the Seeker couldn't hear her whispered words, but that fact was questionable given their proximity. "I didn't think she would agree...maybe our Seeker wants a piece of that?" A wink and a nudge, the dwarf laughing heartily to her rather crude joke. He didn't reply directly, but chose to address the situation.

"No offense intended, Seeker, but this is a teeny bit unfair. Might I propose the two of you fight armed...with...ah...sticks perhaps?" The dwarf offered, ever diplomatic.

"Ohh that's a great idea!" The Inquisitor quickly seconded him. It was a familiar duet, really, the two rogues just seemed to get along naturally. An onlooker might have even mistaken the two for being related, if not for Varric being a dwarf and all. The chirpier rogue hopped away closer to the coast. There wasn't any branches to speak of so close to see, but there was enough wreckage for her to rummage through. Bits of sunken ships and exploded caskets. Prancing back now, a slimmer plank in one hand, and a rather giant piece of log wrapped in her other arm. Struggling somewhat, carrying along with her a flat piece of plank as well, no doubt intended to replicate a shield.

"Have at ye!" She chimed, dropping the mess of wooden planks onto the ground, the respective weapons obvious. Raising her voice now, drowning out the murmurs of the Chargers still cleaning up the scene. "Come one, come all, to witness the glorious duel of Cassandra Pentaghast, Seeker of Truth, and Iron Bull, Leader of the Bull's Chargers!" Leila might, if she ever decided to retire as a rogue, have a career in theater. Dropping her voice to a normal tone again, she added. "Just like, don't bludgeon each other to death. Everything else is fair game."

Iron Bull seemed amused by the whole thing. Picking up the rather sizable plank, testing the weight, swinging it in the air a few times. The grip wasn't nearly as sturdy as his trusty two-handed axe, but the reach of the plank was quite good. "Well Seeker, the Inquisitor have spoken...Come at me whenever you are ready." He offered, widening his stance, plank raised defensively with both hands.

RE: To the Scar in the Sky We March (Dragon Age Inquisition with sixlikesgore.)

Luckily for both Varric and Leila's sake, - mostly Leila's - Cassandra's ears had fallen deaf to their Inquisitor's assumption. And it was a good thing, too, considering if the woman had heard it, she immediately would've gone so red in the face between her anger and embarrassment, she wouldn't have known what to do. Other than storm off back towards their closest encampment to sulk by herself in one of the tents. Even so, Varric's laughter didn't make her feel easy at all, and he only worsened her opinion on why he would've been laughing in the first place when he made his suggestion. "Sticks." She implicated, dully looking over her shoulder at the dwarf. She knew there wasn't much room in the matter when Leila's face lit up, however, and she simply bit her tongue as the rogue went off to fetch pieces of driftwood, and broken pieces from wreckage's. Seeing some of the items size that she'd collected, Cassandra's slightly unamused look flashed quickly away, growing more content with the idea under the pretenses that she could swing around a much larger object than her sword.

As the items were dropped between them, she allowed Bull to go for the more obvious pick out of the batch, arming herself with the slimmer plank and the shield-plank she'd found. Testing the weight on both her arms, she mentally shrugged, not too fond of the fact that the wood was soaked, but in a rainy place like this? What wasn't. Twirling her twist as Lelia started to announce the brawl, something Cassandra probably would've felt more easy without her doing, she eventually let the slimmer slab of wood stop short against the plank she was doubling for a shield with a loud clash. At Iron Bull's invitation, she simply gave him the first smile since they'd strolled upon his company's presence, lunging towards what appeared to be his right side rather quickly after his words, hoping to catch him slightly off guard. However, she wasn't aiming for the Qunari's right side, not with his eye patch being over his left eye.

At the last second, she dug her left foot into the rocky ground, shifting her momentum to lash her plank just underneath the only patch of armor that was meant to strictly protect his ribs on the man's torso, ducking her body to try and sweep under any overhead attacks he might come with from the sudden jab. It hadn't been a severely hard jab, not meaning to break skin or leave marks, but it was harsh enough that it would hopefully make an impression in the Qunari. "Don't tell me what you make up for in strength, you lack in speed," she teased, low enough only for the Qunari to hopefully catch. In all honesty, she was starting to enjoy this every second her adrenaline started to pump harder; the training dummies at Haven wouldn't fight back. The Iron Bull definitely would. The spark of cockiness didn't remain long, however, only lingering in a ghost of a smirk that had pulled at the corner of her lips, reading her 'shield' just in case she needed to brace a blow - if she'd even be able to.

Doing this with an audience to witness everything probably wasn't the most intelligent course of action she'd committed within the past few months. But the adrenaline she was already feeling was well worth it.

"Your speed is impressive, Seeker." The Qunari acknowledged, despite so much as not even a wince from the blow. "But we'll see if you are as good with that shield of yours as you are with your sword--" Words scarcely finished before he'd began to rain his own blows down upon Cassandra. Trusting her to defend herself, he didn't hold back his gargantuan strength, the driftwood impacting with the plank with a rather loud, albeit dull thud. Surprising perhaps only because both pieces of wood was wet, speaking to just how much power there was behind the attack. Nor was he a mere brute. His experience in combat evidenced by the fact that even as one end of the driftwood impacted Cassandra's shield, he was already redirecting the force of the repulsion into the other end, jutting the butt of the weapon at the Seeker in a pommel strike, one much faster than the attack prior. And he was quite impressed when the woman managed to block this blow as well, this time with her own "weapon."

A duel that continued in a back and forth dance, the Qunari smiling even as his eyes shone with his excitement. This, clearly, was his preferred element. It wasn't clear how the score was to be kept - Cassandra clearly landed more blows, but any blow Bull landed, he made it count. Even in spite of the woman's heavy armor, there was no doubt that some of those strikes might have left bruises. The both of their companions seemed to greatly enjoy the action. The opened barrels were quickly being devoured as more bets were placed. Although the men and women primarily confined themselves to simply cheering, shouts of encouragement and other gibes being tossed out every time it looked like one of them would have an advantage.

Unfortunately, there was only so much weapons made of driftwood could take. Another momentous impact between their weapons, the force such that even soaked and thus sturdier wood could no longer bear their mutual aggression, snapping under the powerful blows. Iron Bull looked at the broken plank in his hand, before dropping his aggressive posture, laughing boisterously, a laugh that reached his eyes.

"Well Seeker, it appears our 'weapons' disagree with us. What do you say we call this one a tie?"

The tall male offered, much to the distress of a certain Inquisitor, who was positively pouting at this turn of events.

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.

If Cassandra's remark gave him pause, Iron Bull certainly did not show it. His surprisingly gentle greens stayed as tranquil as ever, comparable to the old-growth forests surrounding elven ruins. A hint of spark within, no doubt brought about by the energetic sparring. The Qunari demonstrating a poise perhaps surprising given his muscular frame, waiting for someone to answer Cassandra's voiced question instead of interjecting. A wise choice as Solas filled in the gaps, Leila's ensuing affirmation bringing a wide grin to Bull's face.

"Wise decision, the Bull's Charger will not disappoint. Let's toast on that, shall we?" And then more caskets were being busted open, and the various Inquisition members swamped with proffered drinks. Varric, to nobody's surprise, greatly enjoyed his liquor, commenting that this was pretty good stuff. To which Leila challenged him again in a dare - double or nothing for their previous bet. Whoever is standing by the end of their impromptu drinking session sweeps the stakes. The dwarf accepted, but of course.

A drinking session interrupted as the Lady Seeker made her discomfort well known, utilizing that title she hated to catch her attention. Leila grimaced, pouting as she lowered the nearly empty flaggon from her lips, her second, apparently. Even so, there was nothing more than a pleasing flush coloring her pale cheeks, eyes ever clear, brimming with mischief. It appeared she wasn't entirely foolish entertaining this bet with Varric after all. But bet aside, Cassandra was right in this regard, they did have much to accomplish...and the Seeker did already indulge her in sparring Bull.

"Fine fine," she fished a gold piece from her pocket, tossing it to the dwarf, who caught it deftly, his smug smile less because of a measly gold piece, but merely because he won. Striding over to the Bull, gazing up at the man, before voicing. "Alright Bull, Cassandra's gonna eat me alive soon if we don't get going, so let's move this along, shall we?"

The Quanari nodded his acquiescence, straightening before raising his voice. "Krem, tell the Chargers to finish drinking on the road." Mumbling something about Tevinter blood magic as he walked away, but not before tossing a parting smile at the Inquisitor's party. "We'll meet you back at Haven."

------

There was some logistics to be sorted through back at Haven, one thankfully short as both the Spymaster and the Diplomat were very on top of their game, before the Chargers were officially signed on and ready to go. That woman, Leliana...even Bull would profess that the Spymaster was quite intimidating. The way she gaze at him was as if she thought to pierce him with her very gaze, to scrutinize the darkest recesses of his mind, but he had nothing to hide. Not his past, not his present. Admitting quite freely that he was still reporting to the Qun, but that information was a two-way street. Leliana seemed satisfied with his honestly, or perhaps she'd already had her men check him out ahead of time. Either way, it wasn't long until Bull was good to go and left to roam the streets of Haven by himself.

The Inquisitor was nowhere to be seen, no doubt finishing her bet with the dwarf at the tavern. Solas...well. In all honestly, the apostate kind of creeped him out, and why would he voluntarily go engage his company when there was a far more interesting Seeker to seek out? Wearing an ever friendly smile, his great battle-axe strapped to his back, the Qunari mercenary made his way to the training ground, scanning the crowd for sight of the familiar Seeker.

Unfortunately, for the Seeker of Truth, the entire travel time back to Haven had been an unpleasant one. Despite usually wielding heavier weapons, and fighting for her life rather than to entertain their Inquisitor, the sparring match she'd taken part in had taken a lot out of her. Although they'd used wooden pieces, the soaked pieces of driftwood were a lot heavier than her body would've rathered, and given the fact that Cassandra simply didn't know how to hold herself back, she hadn't given her body a gentle ease into the spar. And with an opponent like Iron Bull, someone who was keen on giving her exactly what she dished out towards him, she was feeling it every step of the way back to Haven. And with every pulse of pain flaming within her muscles, implicating the bruises that would eventually surface, Cassandra's mind flamed with the intense heat of adrenaline, her thoughts overworking on the playful battle, recounting her mistakes.

Once they'd reached the bridge to cross into Haven's village, Cassandra had let their Ambassador and Spymaster have at their newest armed company, retiring to her tent long enough to give herself a small rest. It didn't take long for her mind to push her back onto her feet, however, fumbling over the moves that Bull had so easily maneuvered around, or blocked. It was driving her up the wall, trying to imagine what the outcome of some of the moves would've been if she'd just ducked to the right, or thrown more of her weight into her left side as she swung her branch. Without a moving dummy that would fight in a way she was picturing in her minds eye, she was basically just metaphorically slashing her sword anyway. But it wasn't like she was about to ask one of Cullen's recruits if they'd be interested in playing pincushion for her frustrations.

Regardless, the brunette manned herself with her sword once more, leaving her shield securely back in her tent. Instead of wielding it within her right hand, however, Cassandra had decided to switch her focus, and had equipped her left with the halt of her sword instead. Normally, the woman embraced her secondary hand as her offensive one, reserving her main hand for her shield. But after that spar, the most annoying blows she'd received - more so to her ego rather than her physical self - had been to her left side. As much as Cassandra used her shield for battle, her sword was a great factor in her blocking and parrying. So, with Iron Bull in mind, she went to work at testing her left arm as her main, her swings guided on that side rather than her usual right.

She'd been so conversed in slashing at the poorly made training dummy, that she hadn't heard the crisp approaching footsteps embedding in the snow. At least, not until the woman had spun in her next slash, throwing her weight around as the blade connected with the dummy's neck. As she righted herself, back now facing the unfortunate test subject, her eyes now focused on the Qunari. For a moment, surprise lingered over her features, before her eyebrows pinched back together, her chest still heaving slightly in her armor from the exertion. "Can I help-"

Thump.

Glancing over her shoulder, the woman's expression softened a bit when her eyes came to rest on the head of the dummy, rolling to a slow stop in the snow. Grunting with annoyance, she lowered her arms, her head turning back to face the taller man before her, Cassandra's displeasure clearly written all over her face. "Hopefully Haven's conditions are up to par with your Chargers' expectations." Because it was clearly starting to wear on hers.