Hawken Skógr

DoctorLinnec

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Created
2 years, 6 months ago
Creator
DoctorLinnec
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4

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Hawken

There is no worse death than the end of hope

Honest . Quiet . Vulnerable

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About


Name
Esther Aisling Lockheart
Called
Esther | Es
Age
Young Adult / 28 yrs
Birth Season
Spring
Race
Human
Birthplace
Greywicke | The Capital
Gender
Female
Pronouns
She / Her
Magic Source
N/A
Occupation
Veteran Acolyte
Designer
HTML

Esther is a lively woman with aspirations that extend beyond her scope of ability. While her body struggles to keep up with her from time to time, she has a hopeful outlook on the remainder of her life that inspires many around her to take every day one day at a time. Often found in the local little church just on the edge of the village of Greywicke, she is responsible for transcribing and illustrating many of the church texts to be more digestable for the commonfolk who may not be so inclined to reading.


Design


Height
4'10"
Build
Lean and a touch frail
Eyes
Hazelnut brown
Complexion
Fair
Hair color
Wine red
Hair style
Wavy bob that cuts across the brow with bangs
Demeanor
Friendly and spirted
Style
Modest
Notes
  • Esther lost her right leg from about mid-thigh down due to a childhood illness that still plagues her to this day.
  • Prone to getting cold, Esther often wears pleny of extra layers, especially in the wintertime. She becomes marshmallow.
  • ...
  • ...

Palette


Character


Esther, having grown up in a little impoverished village in the middle of buttfuck nowhere has put a bit emphasis on the importance of being generous. With only the people around you and your own two hands to make your life functioning, it takes a village, literally and giving to your neighbors is the only way everyone'll make it through the winter in one peice. With her life being boiled down to what she can experience within the confines and in line of sight of her church, Esther has developed a very colorful personality to combat the dreary boring days. Having lived a difficult life has taught her the importance of being mature and working through one's problems. There isn't a minute of one's life that should be wasted being immature and putting off dealing with issues.

With only the view outside of her window to occupy her on dreary days, Esther often gets drawn into her dreamy headspace, thinking about all the places she wants to see and go. While it's a nice distraction, it sometimes makes it difficult for her to focus, especially on days where her illness flares. Wether because of her convition not to let life get the better of her or if it's just out of spite of being told 'no', Esther is a wickedly stubborn woman. Once she's set her mind in one way, she's determined to see it through regardless of what anyone may say.

Having only dealt with those in her local community from birth to present, she is a bit naive to the workings of the outside world. This leaves her vulnerable to outside influence, both physically and emotionally. She can read and write stories for days, but it will always be exaggerations and retellings of the stories and fables she's spent most of her adulthood copying down. Her over-imaginative thinking can sometimes lead her to overthink, overestimate or straight up 'run' in the wrong direction if something happens she's unprepared for. Bears? in the woods? Of course they're going to be EVERYWHERE. Because of the circumstances of her upbringing, Esther is very dependent. While she may depend on help to alleviate the worst of her illness, the dependence really exsists more in the human aspect of it. Esther has a hard time being alone for indefinate periods, as her imagination will feed on her insecurity and eat away from the edges until her confidence has withered away. While she has made peace with the inevitablity of death, she doesn't want to be alone when it happens.

Positive Traits

  • Generous
  • Colorful
  • Mature

Neutral Traits

  • Dreamy
  • Stubborn

Negative Traits

  • Vulnerable
  • Dependent
  • Over-Imaginative

Skills


AC
6
Strength
-2
Dexterity
-4
Constitution
-2
Intelligence
+6
Wisdom
+2
Charisma
+4
Total Points
16

[ Lady Luck || Team Buffing Ability]

Pros
> Esther, against all odds has cheated death many times- and she doesn't mind playing dirty to keep from gambling too close to those pearly gates. She places all her eggs in a basket and entrusts it to someone else.
> Once per turn, instead of attacking, Esther may choose a teammate to buff and give advantage/assist on their next action.

Cons
> She must roll a constitiution check whenever the teammate makes use of her buff and the action fails.
> On a failed con check, (rolling below 8) she will lose 1 HP (on a crit failure, it will be 2). She may use her ability as many times as her HP will allow.
> Upon hitting 0 HP, she must roll 1d100 to determine the level of exhaustion.

When in an encounter, Esther may forgo her turn entirely to give a teammate advantage on their turn. If their attack/action fails to hit/succeed, Esther must make a con check for 'exerting' herself in support. She may use the ability as many times as her HP allows, but upon hitting 0 HP will fall unconcious/make death saves. Once out of combat,if stabilized, she must roll 1d100 to determine level of exhaustion. Rolling anything below 25 grants her disadvantage until she can roll over 25, and anything below 5 causes her illness to flare up.


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Story


Summary of History


CW: Implied;Sexual assault, Physical/Emotional abuse toward women/children, Suicide

Ashgate was never a place for children to be raised. Hawken’s mother knew from the moment she had gotten pregnant that this child was never going to be happy. The city was decrepit- the population was full of men akin to ravenous pigs- willing to consume and destroy anything that so much as fell within their line of sight. While she had always wished for a daughter when she lived on the beautiful coast of Rosestrand, when the war happened and the city fell- she had prayed that the child she bore was a boy.

Hawken was named after his grandfather, Lord Hawke of house Björklund. The name was meant to be sentimental for his mother- but the only reason Sigmund allowed it was because he thought there was humor in revoking the name of a ‘traitor’ he had slain. To Sigmund it was simply a reminder of his victory.

Hawken’s upbringing was a lonely one. With so few women in a predominantly male dominated city, there weren’t many kids. Certainly no kids his father would allow him to play with at least. Many of the children who were born to the whores on the docks were left with the orphanage until they were old enough to work in the mines, or labor for their fair share of resources on the docks. Sigmund was a man of the people- the living embodiment of the type of men he attracted to his coast with the promise of a new life. He was hard working, salt of the earth, and unforgiving in his pursuit for success.

In his earliest years, Hawken knew a lukewarm love from his mother, Thyra. Thyra was a trophy of conquest, a prize seized by Sigmund from the burning ruin of Rosestrand. The child she bore for her conqueror was simply a consequence of being the only daughter of house Björklund. She resented the child that was forcibly placed within her- but when he was born, she only held pity for the life she knew lay ahead of him. She would be lucky if her son was only half of the cloth his father was cut from.

Cruel, abusive and domineering were among some of Sigmund’s ‘better’ traits. Hawken, as his son- and soon, competition- was subject to constant displays of domination. It wasn’t so bad when he was still a babe, able to be carried away in the arms of his mother, and held close to her bosom.

For a time, he was safe there. But as soon as he was old enough to act of his own accord, around the age of seven or eight- his mother no longer was willing to protect him. She was dealing with Sigmunds demands for another child and the resentment returned. Why couldn’t Hawken be enough? Hadn’t she sacrificed enough to give him a perfectly good son?

Hawken was struck with hands, belts, wooden angler priests. Whatever was within reach of his father could potentially be used as a tool to ensure he knew his place. These abuses, among others both verbal and sexual in nature, were often employed on his mother as well- in sight of her son. He had seen and heard horrors no child should ever witness between two humans.

As he grew into his pre-teen years, after countless attempts to intervene, a helplessness began to develop within Hawken. More often than not, his actions only led to worse treatment of his mother and himself, leading to the cycle of abuse perpetuating itself from his mother to her son. His attempts of ‘good’ had only harmed her more, and her mounting resentment led to her lashing out.

It wasn’t always bad between him and his mother. She loved him dearly, the good days were good- but the pain and abuse thrust upon her made the days that were bad excruciating for them both.

The bad days outweighed the good tenfold, but Hawken was willing to forgive his mother. She was hurt by the same hands that had hurt him too.

The news of her second pregnancy after several false alarms had Hawken excited for a chance to have some semblance of family. He was 12 at the time, and the day that his mother shared the news with him, she took him out to celebrate. Thyra took him to the docks, out to the only restaurant in town to have lunch, and to all their favorite places around the town. It was something to look forward to- amidst the dreary grey sky that rolled overhead.

‘Robin’ was the name they agreed on together. It would work for a boy, or a girl, if he ended up getting lucky with having a baby sister.

The bluffs just to the west of the city were Hawken’s favorite place to play- to escape the clawing, cloying grasp of his father- the memories that tainted their home. That bluff was their last stop for their celebrations- There was a large tree that sat right in the middle of one of the outcroppings, with a large flat of rolling grass that bloomed with early autumn foliage... It would be the first place he showed his new sibling when they were brought into the world.

Thyra sat near the bluff’s edge to feel the wind of the ocean blow past her- watching her little Hawk run circles around the tree, seeing him smile, and pluck acorns from between its roots. It was supposed to be a good day to celebrate-

But there’s no such thing as a happy end in Ashgate.

The confusion he felt in the moment when he turned back to see his mother gone from her spot still lingers in his memory. A mere echo to the sound of the sea crashing against the shoreline with a thunderous roar of power. The visage of his mother would forever be reduced to a smear of red against a backdrop of dark, churning, waters thrashing the bluff’s edge.

She leapt that day, disappearing into the dark ocean with the remnants of her son Hawken.

The event was runious on him. Any semblance of strength Hawken had harbored was washed out to sea in the crimson seafoam that afternoon- he couldn’t recall how long he stood there looking down at the shadow of rocks below.

Sigmund’s wrath had only amplified, and now with the only person standing between himself and his father gone, Hawken only knew his own personal hell.

For as violent and terrifying his father’s anger was for the immediate aftermath- Hawken was quick to note how fast his father moved on. After a few months, it was as though nothing happened. Sigmund only needed one heir after all- and at 13, he was basically an adult, right? Hawken was treated as such regardless of the ethical answer- His mother was gone for good, and his father wasn’t about to start coddling the boy himself. His childhood ended on that bluff.

Hawken, not long after his mother’s death was shown the ropes of how to be a ‘man’. Forcibly introduced to the bars and brothels on the docks to ‘put some hair on his chest’ and give him the coping tools of Ashgate men. Emotions were no longer a viable excuse for his ‘weakness’. The memories that proceeded from that point were stale, void of connection and feeling. It was easier to not feel- it hurt less- but at the cost of being devoid of personal purpose. He was there to one day take over the family seat- to want anything else would be to invite his father’s abuse.

Growing into adulthood, Hawken- not being the active head of his home- was put to work with the rest of the oyster farmers, fishmongers and miners to earn his own wages. Sigmund did not have the money to spare to buy things for his son. Granted, that didn’t stop Sigmund from gambling, boozing and paying for prostitutes when the mood struck him- he believed thoroughly that Hawken should have to work for every coin that graced his hand. Handouts don’t exist in Ashgate - not when there were things actively falling apart in the city. Every man there has scraped by with whatever they could get from the bottom of the barrel and Hawken has fully accepted that he will do the same.

His reputation among the citizens of Ashgate is more favorable than his father’s. Unlike Sigmund, who’s known for his overly opulent personal consumption, Hawken grew up working alongside many of the men who toil in the ocean day after day. Often the only one between him and his father attending visitation at city hall, Hawken personally sits and listens through the grievances of the citizens when issues need to be dealt with on a larger scale than simply fighting it out. While he may not be the most tactful, he is a great negotiator in a community where the ‘emotion’ is stripped out of business and public life. Decisions are made on a practical and logical basis and disagreements in the rulings are often solved with physical fights. Honor rules in Ashgate, and the men that can maintain their seat of power, often do so by their physical capabilities and the trust of their peers.

Now at the prime age of 23, Hawken is overdue to wed. Sigmund managed to secure a courtship agreement between his son and one of the daughters of Lord Martivin through some cleverly worded letters. The two of them travelled to Garrison’s Watch to attend the Ball of the Decade and to finalize the arrangement in the physical presence of their ruling Lord.