Carver Hawke
"What kind of daft bastard does that?"
Status Alive
Race Human
Age 18
Birth Date
Gender Dude
Sexual Orientation Heterosexual (sorry dudes)
Hometown Ferelden
Residence Kirkwall, The Free Marches
Affiliation Hawke Family
Occupation Grumpy Brother
Class Warrior
Specialization N/A
Gear A big, pointy sword and the clothes on his back.
Behind the Mask
Player OuyangDan
Face Claim N/A
Profile Link Here

So this was the Gallows?

Sodding fantastic.

It looked like a big showy prison, which was probably true enough. It didn't explain what in the Void they were doing here. Not the first place Carver would have chosen to go seeing as how his brother was a Void-damned apostate. But when had that stopped Garrett from doing something?

In they strode, bold as brass, and Garrett went straight up to the first templar he saw as if a sodding mage could just have polite chat with one. If Garrett expected his aid in avoiding the templars he was going about it all kinds of wrong.

Carver stood back a pace or two, his jaw clenched and the muscles in his arms coiled and ready to draw a blade. At least he was good for something. Usual state of being for him around these bucket heads. He tried to disappear, not take up space, but it was pretty unlikely to happen, being a big sodding oaf like he was.

The creepy relief behind the templar showed the story of Kirkwall's history of slavery and it made him sick. The bloody statues were staring at him, and he couldn't help but wonder what his twin would have thought of this place. His stomach clenched with the memory of that loss. Not the time, Carver. He could mourn later, mother gave him plenty of chances for that, with her half weeping all day. Instead he turned a dark scowl onto Garrett, whom, it seemed, couldn't keep his tongue around the people most likely to lock him up.

Bloody fantastic. If this turned out poorly, there was only his blade between them. Not that a special mage-flower like Garrett needed Carver's protection, that had been made clear to him, though it didn't stop him having to run and hide him from the damned templars his whole life. He'd just wait to be told what to do. Not like Garrett would take his advice to shut his hole anyhow.

"Brother, let's not upset the nice templars, if it's all the same to you."

He didn't expect him to listen. He just crossed his massive arms and stood back. Out of the way. Where he was expected to be.



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