sixthiterationlogs | the champion's rogue heart

WHO: Astrid Hawke
WHERE: Fountain, Inn
WHEN: April 26th and 27th
OPEN TO: ALL
WARNINGS: TBD
STATUS: OPEN

April 26th - Fountain, Midday

Hawke is fairly certain that the Nightmare Demon she was fighting didn't have the ability to make her drown. Then again, she was in the Fade last she checked and the Fade is malleable enough to manage that. Still, the demon knows she hates spiders most of all. Why it would try to drown her is beyond her comprehension at the moment.

Not that she minds not staring at giant arachnids at the moment, but it is confusing.

Those thoughts flit across her mind as she struggles to push herself to the surface of the water. She can see it glinting above her like Isabela's ship, like a priceless personal goal that's just out of reach. Just a little further. She reaches, her hand breaks through, and then she's sucking in deep lungfuls of air as she pushes herself up and out, nearly falling over the edge and onto the ground below. For a few seconds, she just lies there, catching her breath and looking around for any sign of the Nightmare Demon.

Nothing. Groaning to herself about the way her life has gone, she finally rolls over and pushes herself to her feet. "That's two apologies the Chantry owes me," she complains with her usual dry humor. "This doesn't look like the Maker's bosom, either."

April 27th - Inn

Hawke takes up a room at the Inn at the first opportunity and her first day is spent just trying to cope. Of course, Hawke's version of coping is hardly the same as everyone else's, so mostly she stays away and tries to figure out what she can. She gets the main idea of the place and that's enough. No one has heard of Thedas. It's enough to make a girl crazy.

So the next day, she hangs out in the Inn proper and not in her room. It almost reminds her of the Hanged Man and that realization brings with it a squeeze of pain. She misses her companions, even if it was her choice to leave Kirkwall. She wonders vaguely how Bethany is doing, if Isabela has managed to find herself a new ship, if Fenris ever cleaned his estate, what Merrill is doing now, and if Aveline and Donnic have decided to try for children. They would make good parents, she thinks. Her mind wanders to Varric and she finds herself smiling into her cup of tea as she sits by the fire. She misses him most of all and she knows he probably misses her, too. He and Aveline were her best friends and she really misses their counsel. And Varric's very broad sense of humor and storytelling.

She keeps her mind pointedly away from Anders. That is a subject she would rather avoid.

Once she has drained her cup, with or without company, she sets about asking for work, trying to see if anyone needs any kind of help. Anyone nearby may find her walking up to start a conversation with a quick, "Mind if I ask you something?" If they say no, she'll start asking and hopefully not badgering, but if they say no, she'll politely leave them alone. Or as politely as possible.

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"Yesterday," Hawke responds, figuring that by now everyone's figured out how to tell the newcomers from the people who have lived here a while. Her habit of walking up to ask them things probably doesn't help her fit in, but she's never exactly been the type not to stand out.

"I've been trying to figure out what there is to do around here," she continues, her voice taking on the tone of a child who's bored with her life. "It's not like people need someone to solve all of their problems here."

Mostly it's easy to tell a person is new; the village isn't really big enough for faces to slip under the radar, even if you don't talk to a person. He hasn't seen her around anywhere, therefore she must be new. No more than a few days, at least.

Still, her declaration takes Clint by surprise a little. Not a lot, and it doesn't show except for a blink and a quick 'huh' sort of expression on his face, but then he shrugs. "Survive, mostly." It's true; there's just not a lot of other things they can do before seeing to food, shelter, and safety for everyone here. "If you're any good with farming, Mark can definitely use your help. Or if you can fix stuff, there's a lot of buildings around here that need some work, and other projects we've been wanting to get started but haven't been able to 'cause we don't have the people who know how to do it or the materials. Miss Kate's in charge of most of the cooking here in the inn and she can always use another pair of hands, and if you don't mind hunting the game's starting to come back after the winter and we could use some more meat."

"Ohh," Hawke says with something in between dry humor and sarcastic humor. "Oh so it's a survival game here, too. Just like Thedas." On the plus side this means she won't be too far out of her element. She can survive with the best of them, always had in Thedas. As long as there aren't any crazy shards of red lyrium or a darkspawn Tevinter magister around, Hawke thinks she can deal with anything this place has to offer.

Farming and cooking she could probably do, but they wouldn't be her first choices. Neither would fixing things, but really Hawke has done worse in the name of earning coin before. Not that there seems to be coin exactly here.

"Tell me they have bows here? I'm not picking up a sword and charging a bear. That's something Aveline would do."

No, really. Aveline is part of the guard. That's what they do. And her motto was always, "Protect what matters with everything you have or you'll have nothing and deserve it." Hawke misses her, too. Deeply.

At least this girl's not panicking about being somewhere without electricity. He's adjusted, but it'd been a shock for him at first, and he could easily guess that other people had had a much ruder awakening when they realized what exactly this village was like. But it's the second thing she says that interests him, because - well, duh.

"There's a few, but they're not all that great. You shoot?" Clint's analysis of the weapons is partially biased, but also not all that off. Some of them are old and worn, but a couple are sturdy enough. None of them have the draw weight he's used to, though, and for that reason alone he'll never consider them 'good enough.' They always feel like a child's bow to him, the arrows almost like feathers.

Electricity is a foreign concept to Hawke. If it existed here, she would likely spend forever accusing people of harnessing mage powers for it. How else would it work? Luckily, she doesn't have an adjustment there. So far, a lot of it has been just like Thedas and she can deal with that.

"I do. It's the only thing I like to use." She knows the basics of knife-fighting, but she's never been good at it the way Isabela is. Give her a sword of any kind and she's likely to chop someone's ear off. "What's wrong with the ones here? Do they not perform well?"

the champion's rogue heart

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