Carver Hawke Nov 29, 2012 21:44:03 GMT -5
Post by Carver Hawke on Nov 29, 2012 21:44:03 GMT -5
Account Name: Carver Hawke
Display Name: Carver Hawke
Character Full Name: Carver Maurevar Hawke
Nickname(s): Grump, Grumpy, Grumpass
Birth date: 10 Harvestmere, 12 Dragon
Birthplace: Outside Redcliffe
Marital status: Single
Occupation(s): Grey Warden
Hair: Dark brown, almost black, fine, bone straight, and silky. It falls to his collar, but is typically worn with the top and sides pulled back tightly away from his face.
Eyes: Warm honeyed brown.
Other: Carver tends to keep himself clean-shaven, but the darkness of his hair in comparison to the paleness of his skin makes him appear to have perpetual stubble. His nose very prominent, and his forehead is high, with an obvious widow’s peak at the hairline. Carver is a big guy, tall, broad, and appears awkward with the largeness of his frame, though his movement in combat has been described as being fluid as water. He looms without meaning to, takes up more space than he wants to, and doesn’t so much walk as trudge everywhere he goes.
He has a tattoo of a mabari on his left forearm. He can wiggle it and make it “bark”.
There is a long patch of burn-scarring covering most of his back and rear, the hazards of growing up and fighting with a pyromancer as a twin sister.
He keeps his appearance impeccably clean. His nails are always well-groomed and clean, and he is very conscious of how he smells.
Weapons: A silverite greatsword, well-balanced, quite old, meticulously tended, and dearly loved. The only thing of his father’s he has. It was a gift from his eldest sibling after their father’s death.
Usual Garments/Armor: Carver wears the standard warrior plate Warden Blues. When he’s not in armour, he wears simple breeches and either a tunic or jerkin, depending on the weather.
Inventory: A pack for travel. Over the years, Carver has learned how to pack quickly and travel light. He carries nothing that he can live without. Enough poultices to last several days at a time, hard tack rations, a whet stone and gear for cleaning and maintaining arms and armour. He wears his Grey Warden’s pendant proudly at all times, and a ring once belonging to his namesake, Ser Maurevar Carver of Kirkwall.
Basic Skill(s): Carver is an excellent cook and enjoys doing it. He can do basic first aid (splinting wounds, sutures, how to apply a poultice, etc.).
Trade Skill(s): If it can be done on a farm, Carver can do it, including milking animals, birthing calves or sheep, and growing crops. He likes to think he could deliver a baby, but hasn’t been able to test this. He can also fish and knows how to forage and trap.
In-Game Skill(s): Survival, Improved Survival, Combat Training, Improved Combat Training, Expert Combat Training, Trap Making.
Sustained Abilities: Precise Striking, Threaten, Powerful Swings, Indomitable,
Passive Abilities: Powerful, Two-Handed Strength, Righteous Strike
Activated Abilities: Taunt, Pommel Strike, Mighty Blow
To say that Carver is grumpy is an understatement. He grunts and grumbles more often than he will engage in long conversation, and honestly believes that most problems can be solved by applying the pommel of his sword. Monosyllabic answers are usually sufficient if violence isn’t the answer. He isn’t without humor, and has a fairly shallow sense of humor. He still thinks farts are funny.
At the core of this grumpy, abrasive nature, is a vulnerable and insecure man who yearns to prove himself worthwhile to someone. Forced to become a person who is able to adapt to any situation, Carver longs to chip out a niche of his own and to find a place to call home. Never having been alone since the womb, traveling without Bethany is an unspoken burden, but Carver keeps the deep loneliness buried under heavy sarcasm.
Born the youngest of three, and the twin of a mage in a magical family, Carver is mistrustful of magic. He doesn’t understand it, and is wary of mages who don’t share his blood. More inclined to the physical aspects of life over scholarly, the attempts of his father to teach him to read and write were largely unsuccessful. He’s not unintelligent, but he has only rudimentary skills in written communication.
Carver isn’t sure where his family was at the moment of his birth, but he and his twin sister Bethany came into the world in a copse of trees on the side of the road near Redcliffe. Malcolm was an escaped mage from Kirkwall’s Circle. Even before the twins were born, the Hawke family lived on the move.
The family moved from town to town whenever the threat of discovery by templars became likely. Their first mostly permanent home was not far outside of Redcliffe. Accidents with young mages happen, and the Hawke family fled again. Bethany’s magic manifested, and it soon became obvious that it would not in him. His twin was a mage, doted on by their mage father. Their eldest sibling was already an accomplished fighter in their own right; all their friends knew who Hawke was. Being neither of these things, and passably ordinary in his own mind, Carver assumed the role of the Other Hawke.
Once they settled on a small farm in Lothering, Malcolm Hawke did his best to teach Carver to use a sword, a skill that he clung to and buried himself in with great determination. A young boy with a thirst to excel in swordplay was a hard thing to turn away, and the friends the Hawkes had made helped him hone his skills. Aspirations of joining the local guard were snuffed out the day of Malcolm’s fatal tree-felling accident. No amount of healing nor his strength could save their father, and Carver was needed to help keep their farm afloat.
Eighteen the year of the Blight, Carver left home without word and joined up with King Cailan’s army. The events of Ostagar playing out as they did, Carver deserted with no care other than the family he knew would be taken surprise by the bulk of the horde headed their way. With the chaos following Loghain’s army quitting the field, he was hardly the only one with this idea. The three Hawke children and their mother fled barely ahead of the darkspawn, picking their way towards Gwaren. The weeks that followed at sea were unkind to Carver, and the trip to Kirkwall remained a blur of sullen silence and seasickness.
Life as a refugee in Kirkwall, for lack of a better word, was crap. They spent the year of the Blight running with a tough mercenary company, where Carver further honed his skills. People needed roughing up, and he wasn’t too proud to take any job. Rejected by the City Guard for reasons he didn’t understand, Carver became quickly disenchanted with their new home and frustrated at his lack of options to help support the family.
One of the jobs they did take took them to a Dalish camp on Mount Sundermount. While exploring the rocky woods behind the camp, their party was attacked by darkspawn. Having fought the creatures before, they were little match and easily dispatched. Carver knew, though, the moment he wiped the back of his hand across his eye that he’d been careless. The contact stung, and he knew what had happened.
Shivering and ill and more grouchy than normal, Carver spent the next day of travel keeping to himself. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to know he’d screwed up again, especially Hawke. The next day, having turned back to return home, they fell upon a second group, already engaged with a small group of Grey Wardens.
Commander Stroud recognised Carver’s ailment before he ever gave voice to it, and initially suggested ending his misery. After much pleading from his group, it was revealed that there was a cure, but it meant leaving the rest of his family behind. With little explanation, and Carver too ill to argue, it was decided that he would take any chance rather than simply adding him to the trail of dead behind them. With no ado, Carver was taken to Ansburg.
He survived his Joining.
Carver poured himself into the work of the Wardens. There was purpose, there was reward enough to replace what he’d lost — the chance at having a normal family one day — and best of all, there was only one Hawke. He became Hawke and not the Hawke’s brother. He became Hawke and not the ordinary twin of a mage. He grew in confidence and skill, and to his surprise and satisfaction, Carver Hawke found he was good at being a Warden. He felt like he’d been born for it.
His time in the Wardens did little to ease his mistrust of magic. The darkspawn had magic wielders capable of things he’d never imagined. With polite inquiries, he began the process of learning from former templars the abilities that would make him effective against magic in combat. It gave him a boost to his confidence, both on and off the battlefield.
Even as he excelled in the Wardens, the deeds of Carver’s elder sibling still carried on the wind. Of course everyone knew of the elder Hawke. Most conversations, even with his fellow Wardens began with “Oh, those Hawkes?” A desire to put distance between himself and the reputation his sibling was building, Carver respectfully requested a transfer. “Anywhere but here” sounded nice enough. Stroud, not unkind, suggested that he could inquire with the Commander of the Ferelden Grey Wardens, and sent correspondence on Carver’s behalf to Nathaniel Howe. While all of his memories of Ferelden were not fantastic, the it was likely the dirt and rocks in Ferelden were less likely to bear the stamp of his sibling than the dirt and rocks of the Free Marches. His interests in templar training seemed to seal the trade for Carver, and he was given leave to transfer.
Carver’s life has been full of upheaval, and seldom of his own making. Carver wants a chance to make his own way, good or bad. A place to call home, a bed that doesn’t move every night, and a chance to figure himself out as an individual away from the shadows of his siblings, are all things he aspires to.