Garret Hawke 3/?da_puttsMarch 25 2011, 23:17:17 UTC
Personality: After years of climbing his way up to the top and facing trials that would make even the bravest soldier's legs quake, Hawke is quite confident in his abilities and those of his friends. Outside of losing his little sister, the only family he has left, there is little that scares him anymore. In fact, losing anyone he cares about is the only thing that keeps him up at night. After witnessing the death of his little brother and the tragedy that befell his mother, he's grown quite protective of his ragtag family. Still, despite his confidence, he's aware that his failures are just as grand as his successes and can never forget them.
Hawke has a great deal of sympathy for the plight of the mages, mostly due to his little sister being a mage. Like his father, his sister was once an apostate, a mage outside the Circle of Magi, and he did everything he could to protect her. Even after her eventual capture, Hawke continues to help mages who want nothing more than their freedom. He sees this as a way of making up for failing to keep his sister out of the reach of the templars.
While he isn't above getting his hands dirty, at his core Hawke is a good man who helps those in need when he can. Behind his comical attitude there is a strong sense of justice. Several times he helps the city guard in apprehending criminals, but there are times Hawke takes the law into his own hands due to the guard's inability or inaction.
Most of Hawke's free time is spent with his companions. As his estate completely empty save his dog and menservants, Hawke only returns there to sleep. During the day he walks the streets with Merril and his dog or pester Aveline at the city guard barracks. At night he'll be at the Hanged Man, drinking or playing cards with Isabela and Varric. Other times he'll be with Anders either to chat or find ways to help the mages, and he always makes sure to drop by Fenris' mansion because someone has to check on him. Hawke sees all of his companions as his friends, even if they do not get along too well with each other. While even Hawke may not always agree with them, he sees no reason to try and change them. It's their lives and they'll live them how they see fit. He knows that all he can do is support them and help them when they need him.
7. Previous Game Developments: None
8. Appearance: Hawke is a man of average height and has a muscular build. He has short, black hair and his sideburns lead into a full beard and mustache. His eyes are auburn and the man is sporting plenty scars from years of fighting all manners of crazy creatures. Unless he's at his house, Hawke wears his armor everywhere and keeps his weapons with him at all times. Hey, Kirkwall is a dangerous place.
9. Abilities: Though not a mage like his sister and father, Hawke is deadly when wielding a pair of daggers or short blades. He is a skilled duelist, calling out single opponents and killing them quickly.
Hawke is quite agile and acrobatic easily able to perform flips, kicks, and jumps.
He knows some minor alchemy as he can create smoke bombs and flasks of noxious gas.
After training in the king's army, Hawke knows basic survival skills such as how to hunt and bandage minor wounds although after living in Kirkwall for four years he's kind of rusty.
While more skilled with blades than his fists, Hawke is no slouch in unarmed combat once KO'ing a Qunari with a punch.
Garret Hawke 4/?da_puttsMarch 25 2011, 23:18:19 UTC
10. Languages: Common
11. Items: A pack with dried food and supplies, a pouch holding a few health poultices, another pouch with holding some vials of poison, a waterskin, and the armor he's wearing.
12. Weapons: A pair of short swords that will be blunted and a couple of combustion grenades. These won't last long as he can only get them through his contacts in Kirkwall.
13. Writing sample - Third Person Prose: Pain. It was the first thing that Hawke noticed as consciousness returned to him. His side was in tremendous amounts of pain. The second thing that he noticed was the pungent odor of rank dog breath. Hawke slowly opened his eyes, momentarily blinded by the brightness of the room. Once his vision cleared he found himself lying in bed in his room of his estate. Beside him was his mabari, fast asleep and taking up half the mattress. Its mouth hung open as it snored and snorted in its sleep.
“Not exactly the most pleasant sight to wake up to,” Hawke said, but he couldn’t help but smile at the sight.
He tried to give the dog a nice scratch behind the ears but was quickly stopped by a more jolting pain in his side. Hawke shifted the covers away from him to find his mid-section wrapped in a heavy amount of bandages. Finally his memory began to catch up with him. There had been a fight, another group of idiots looking to make names for themselves by killing Kirkwall’s Champion. It went as well for them as to be expected, but just before the last of them ran off a bowman to one final shot. His target wasn’t Hawke however. The target was Merrill, and she hadn’t been paying attention. At that moment instict took over Hawke. He shoved the elf out of the way and the arrow pierced him instead. Things went black after that.
Hawke shifting the covers was apparently enough to wake the slumbering mabari next to him. At the sight of its master finally awake, the large war dog barked happily wagging its tiny tail furiously side to side.
“Yes yes, I’m happy to see you too.”
The mabari barked again and sprang from the bed to the floor. It ran to the door and began barking even more, so happy that its entire rear end shook with its tail. Even with his dog’s loud barking, Hawke could hear movement and voices coming from the other side.
When the door swung open a powerful, red-haired woman in the armor of the city guard stood in the door frame. Sometimes Hawke wondered if Aveline ever took that armor off.
“Hawke...” Her voice was awash with relief.
“If I didn’t know any better I would say you’re happy to see me.”
Aveline’s smile faded, becoming a disapproving frown, “You’re a fool you know that?”
Hawke chuckled and said, “Now there’s the Aveline we know and love.”
Her eyes narrowed at Hawke and she marched towards his bed, “This is serious Hawke. You could have died.”
“But I didn’t now did I?” Hawke said rather matter-of-factly.
“Just what were you thinking!?”
Hawke looked thoughtful for a moment before he answered, “I could tell you but the language I used wasn’t really appropriate.”
Aveline only scowled. It was then Hawke spotted someone peeking a head around the door frame. He wondered if Merrill had been standing there the entire time. Hawke smiled at her and she slowly stepped inside his room. She looked like someone had just kicked her puppy.
“Hawke I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I should have been more careful. I should have-”
Before Merrill could go any further Hawke interrupted her, “Merrill calm down. I would have done it for any of you.”
And that was that. He looked to Merrill, who had tears welling in her big doe eyes, and Aveline, who looked on him with that worried frown he grew to know so well. Merrill, Aveline, Varric, Isabela, Fenris, Anders; Hawke would have taken that arrow for any of them without hesitation. These outcasts, these misfits, were his people. They were close to him as any family and he would protect them all to the very end. It was just what he did. After all, he was the Champion.
"When Varric tells this story, tell him to leave out the part where I passed out."
Garret Hawke 5/5da_puttsMarch 25 2011, 23:18:51 UTC
14. Writing sample - First Person Prose: Wonderful. Another group of undead monsters that want to kill me. Why is it that every time I step into some dank cave or some abandoned mine I'm always assaulted by a rotting corpse or ten? It's getting to the point where I can almost predict it. It's almost not even fun to kill them anymore. Almost.
I draw my daggers as I dive into the thick of the fray. The skeletons aren't really much of a threat unless they swarm, but I have no problem slipping around them. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Fenris having no problem with them. Each swing of his sword decimates one or two of the corpses. A quick spell from Merrill keeps them from surrounding him and Varric in turn guards Merrill, filling any corpses that come near her with arrows from his crossbow. I'm after larger prey however.
A revenant stands near the back of the battle covered head to toe in armor and armed with a sword and shield. That's what I'm after and it looks like it's interested in me as well. It swings its sword down at my ready but I easily deflect it away with a dagger before striking at its throat with another. The revenant's shield comes up and stops my blade short of piercing it. No matter, it wouldn't be fun if it ended quickly.
My daggers clash against the revenant's sword and shield while the others continue to cut through the walking corpses. Finally I force an opening after parrying another of the revenant's swings. I drive my dagger into its chest and it staggers. With a swing from my second dagger I remove its head from its shoulders. The revenant falls to the ground in a heap. After taking a moment to gloat I turn to help the others, only to see Varric finish the last of the corpses by spearing its head with an arrow.
“Is the party over already? Just when we were starting to really get to know each other too.”
Concerning Hawke's grenades, they will be more flash than actual bang now. They will still hurt if they hit someone but it will be more like getting hit by a paintball at close range.
Lastly, come on over to the keep_ooc and introduce yourself! You are also welcome (and encouraged!) to say hello in our AIM chat, chatofthekeep. Get yourself settled in and if you have any questions, please contact a moderator!
After years of climbing his way up to the top and facing trials that would make even the bravest soldier's legs quake, Hawke is quite confident in his abilities and those of his friends. Outside of losing his little sister, the only family he has left, there is little that scares him anymore. In fact, losing anyone he cares about is the only thing that keeps him up at night. After witnessing the death of his little brother and the tragedy that befell his mother, he's grown quite protective of his ragtag family. Still, despite his confidence, he's aware that his failures are just as grand as his successes and can never forget them.
Hawke has a great deal of sympathy for the plight of the mages, mostly due to his little sister being a mage. Like his father, his sister was once an apostate, a mage outside the Circle of Magi, and he did everything he could to protect her. Even after her eventual capture, Hawke continues to help mages who want nothing more than their freedom. He sees this as a way of making up for failing to keep his sister out of the reach of the templars.
While he isn't above getting his hands dirty, at his core Hawke is a good man who helps those in need when he can. Behind his comical attitude there is a strong sense of justice. Several times he helps the city guard in apprehending criminals, but there are times Hawke takes the law into his own hands due to the guard's inability or inaction.
Most of Hawke's free time is spent with his companions. As his estate completely empty save his dog and menservants, Hawke only returns there to sleep. During the day he walks the streets with Merril and his dog or pester Aveline at the city guard barracks. At night he'll be at the Hanged Man, drinking or playing cards with Isabela and Varric. Other times he'll be with Anders either to chat or find ways to help the mages, and he always makes sure to drop by Fenris' mansion because someone has to check on him. Hawke sees all of his companions as his friends, even if they do not get along too well with each other. While even Hawke may not always agree with them, he sees no reason to try and change them. It's their lives and they'll live them how they see fit. He knows that all he can do is support them and help them when they need him.
7. Previous Game Developments: None
8. Appearance: Hawke is a man of average height and has a muscular build. He has short, black hair and his sideburns lead into a full beard and mustache. His eyes are auburn and the man is sporting plenty scars from years of fighting all manners of crazy creatures. Unless he's at his house, Hawke wears his armor everywhere and keeps his weapons with him at all times. Hey, Kirkwall is a dangerous place.
9. Abilities: Though not a mage like his sister and father, Hawke is deadly when wielding a pair of daggers or short blades. He is a skilled duelist, calling out single opponents and killing them quickly.
Hawke is quite agile and acrobatic easily able to perform flips, kicks, and jumps.
He knows some minor alchemy as he can create smoke bombs and flasks of noxious gas.
After training in the king's army, Hawke knows basic survival skills such as how to hunt and bandage minor wounds although after living in Kirkwall for four years he's kind of rusty.
While more skilled with blades than his fists, Hawke is no slouch in unarmed combat once KO'ing a Qunari with a punch.
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11. Items: A pack with dried food and supplies, a pouch holding a few health poultices, another pouch with holding some vials of poison, a waterskin, and the armor he's wearing.
12. Weapons: A pair of short swords that will be blunted and a couple of combustion grenades. These won't last long as he can only get them through his contacts in Kirkwall.
13. Writing sample - Third Person Prose: Pain. It was the first thing that Hawke noticed as consciousness returned to him. His side was in tremendous amounts of pain. The second thing that he noticed was the pungent odor of rank dog breath. Hawke slowly opened his eyes, momentarily blinded by the brightness of the room. Once his vision cleared he found himself lying in bed in his room of his estate. Beside him was his mabari, fast asleep and taking up half the mattress. Its mouth hung open as it snored and snorted in its sleep.
“Not exactly the most pleasant sight to wake up to,” Hawke said, but he couldn’t help but smile at the sight.
He tried to give the dog a nice scratch behind the ears but was quickly stopped by a more jolting pain in his side. Hawke shifted the covers away from him to find his mid-section wrapped in a heavy amount of bandages. Finally his memory began to catch up with him. There had been a fight, another group of idiots looking to make names for themselves by killing Kirkwall’s Champion. It went as well for them as to be expected, but just before the last of them ran off a bowman to one final shot. His target wasn’t Hawke however. The target was Merrill, and she hadn’t been paying attention. At that moment instict took over Hawke. He shoved the elf out of the way and the arrow pierced him instead. Things went black after that.
Hawke shifting the covers was apparently enough to wake the slumbering mabari next to him. At the sight of its master finally awake, the large war dog barked happily wagging its tiny tail furiously side to side.
“Yes yes, I’m happy to see you too.”
The mabari barked again and sprang from the bed to the floor. It ran to the door and began barking even more, so happy that its entire rear end shook with its tail. Even with his dog’s loud barking, Hawke could hear movement and voices coming from the other side.
When the door swung open a powerful, red-haired woman in the armor of the city guard stood in the door frame. Sometimes Hawke wondered if Aveline ever took that armor off.
“Hawke...” Her voice was awash with relief.
“If I didn’t know any better I would say you’re happy to see me.”
Aveline’s smile faded, becoming a disapproving frown, “You’re a fool you know that?”
Hawke chuckled and said, “Now there’s the Aveline we know and love.”
Her eyes narrowed at Hawke and she marched towards his bed, “This is serious Hawke. You could have died.”
“But I didn’t now did I?” Hawke said rather matter-of-factly.
“Just what were you thinking!?”
Hawke looked thoughtful for a moment before he answered, “I could tell you but the language I used wasn’t really appropriate.”
Aveline only scowled. It was then Hawke spotted someone peeking a head around the door frame. He wondered if Merrill had been standing there the entire time. Hawke smiled at her and she slowly stepped inside his room. She looked like someone had just kicked her puppy.
“Hawke I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I should have been more careful. I should have-”
Before Merrill could go any further Hawke interrupted her, “Merrill calm down. I would have done it for any of you.”
And that was that. He looked to Merrill, who had tears welling in her big doe eyes, and Aveline, who
looked on him with that worried frown he grew to know so well. Merrill, Aveline, Varric, Isabela, Fenris, Anders; Hawke would have taken that arrow for any of them without hesitation. These outcasts, these misfits, were his people. They were close to him as any family and he would protect them all to the very end. It was just what he did. After all, he was the Champion.
"When Varric tells this story, tell him to leave out the part where I passed out."
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I draw my daggers as I dive into the thick of the fray. The skeletons aren't really much of a threat unless they swarm, but I have no problem slipping around them. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Fenris having no problem with them. Each swing of his sword decimates one or two of the corpses. A quick spell from Merrill keeps them from surrounding him and Varric in turn guards Merrill, filling any corpses that come near her with arrows from his crossbow. I'm after larger prey however.
A revenant stands near the back of the battle covered head to toe in armor and armed with a sword and shield. That's what I'm after and it looks like it's interested in me as well. It swings its sword down at my ready but I easily deflect it away with a dagger before striking at its throat with another. The revenant's shield comes up and stops my blade short of piercing it. No matter, it wouldn't be fun if it ended quickly.
My daggers clash against the revenant's sword and shield while the others continue to cut through the walking corpses. Finally I force an opening after parrying another of the revenant's swings. I drive my dagger into its chest and it staggers. With a swing from my second dagger I remove its head from its shoulders. The revenant falls to the ground in a heap. After taking a moment to gloat I turn to help the others, only to see Varric finish the last of the corpses by spearing its head with an arrow.
“Is the party over already? Just when we were starting to really get to know each other too.”
15. Tattoo: Over his left bicep.
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