Hawke inhaled, the harsh scent of sea spray and salt flooding her throat and nose with a tingle. She exhaled, a soft cloud of warm breath coming from her mouth.

The constant groan and moan of the wooden deck continued toiling away in the background as she looked out over the railing towards the city of Kirkwall. Chains held the ancient statues of elven slaves as they lead the way into the gallows of the city. As Hawke understood, during the blight Ferelden refugees had had to stay in the gallows with the Templars and the Circle. After seeing Ferelden's Circle first hand when Elissa Cousland asked for assistance in raiding it, Hawke knew of the horrors caged within and truthfully feared for her sister's life. Tales of the harsh regime of Knight Commander Meredith had spread throughout the port towns of Ferelden, and Hawke feared the truth might be harsher than rumor.

She thought briefly of the rivaini duelist Leliana and Elissa had slept with. Was this ship at all like the Siren's Call she'd been so proud of, or was a pirate ship completely different from that of a smuggler or merchant? Hawke resolved to find out, and also to determine the exact pitch of the squeal a sheep made as it was thrown towards a castle. She didn't know where the second part came from, but decided that she rather liked the hilarity of telling people that was her life goal from this point forward. Hawke drifted off into thought of flying sheep as she took a deep gulp of the ale she'd been holding in her hands. The wooden tankard fit marvelously with the theme of wood, sea, drunkards and wind that the ship seemed to be going for. The old, wooden chair she'd declared her own had a nice view off the side of the ship, and she'd turned it slightly so as to have a view of the plank should anyone be walking it. Several men with wandering eyes and pompous egos had attempted to steal it from her. Hawke chose to ignore them and swing her incredibly sharp greatsword around their faces.

As the ship drew closer and closer to Kirkwall the sea spray and salt faded, leaving only the wonderful scent of rotting corpses, sewage, and general horridness to fill it's place. Hawke would swear she also smelt magic and abominations in the city, but most would say she was just a crazy berserker. Such was a fact she could not disagree with. None the less, Hawke continued keeping her mouth shut. Well, shut until she took another drink of ale. It'd taken her a while to fit her gauntlet clad hand around the tiny handle of the tankard, but eventually she'd figured it out. The only problem was that now her hand was stuck there, and Hawke feared that she'd have to break the tankard that was quickly becoming her best friend. She'd been drinking moonshine for most of the journey, but now decided she'd lessen her alcohol content down to just ale. Didn't want to give Leandra the wrong idea the first time they met again now did she.

"Andraste's tits this city smells bad," a random stranger had swaggered up behind her and threatened to place his hand on her shoulder. Hawke grunted in agreement as she grabbed her great sword in her free hand and swung it on to her shoulder. She chuckled as the foolish man realized that her shaving a few of his hairs was not an accident. He scurried away to enhance her fierce reputation. She would've thought that the ship was small enough the first few would cast her the right impressions.

"Can't say I disagree with him though. Just the right amount of despair and vomit for absolute disgust," Hawke swirled her beloved tankard in thought, "I think I need to invest in some nug skin coats. My Orlesian stupidity senses are tingling."

As the ship, which Hawke had never cared to learn the name of, drew closer and closer to Kirkwall the stench increased. Though it also mixed in with the screeching of day to day life and the tell tale clang of a blacksmith hammering away constantly. Hawke was puzzled as to how all the blacksmiths managed to maintain one rhythm and thus make a combined noise that was loud enough for her to hear clearly while still a mildly significant way out at sea. She quickly decided to let the scholars and mages figure it out. Or maybe to let the Chantry blame it on some magical phenomenon so they could complete a third Exalted March to the Free Marches. She'd probably end up getting recruited into yet another insane military campaign and look what riches the last one got her. The Chantry was certain to pay better than Lothering's guard. Not that Lothering had a guard. It was really more Carver, Marian and their mabari Barkspawn wandering the edges of town glaring at the adolescents hiding in bushes and threatening to sick a Templar on them.

Hawke missed Barkspawn, she really did. She'd spent most of her time in camp playing with Elissa's dog, Duncan. Truth be told, without a faithful Mabari by her side Hawke felt lonely. There was something about them that reminded her of home, of how Ferelden was before all the bullshit. They reminded her of arguing with Carver while Bethany rated them out to her Mother and her Dad sat in the background barely restraining his laughter. Duncan had been a replacement for Barkspawn, but he held a special place in her heart. Hawke had wondered about the name, but relented when Alistair mentioned dead wardens. Hawke does not consider herself a fan of dead people, or getting involved with the mourning of dead people. Sure she had mourned the death of her Father, but she didn't sit around in the useless abandon others so often did.

Hawke set her silverite great sword down off her shoulders to rest amicably across her armoured thighs. She'd obtained Yusaris from Shah Wyrd, a powerful rage demon. The sword hadn't left her side since, though she should probably look for a backup should it eventually fail her. Nothing quite like your sword shattering while you're blade deep in a abomination to ruin your day.

Hawke daydreamed a bit about all of the fights she could get in. Everyone was always busy with doom and gloom when facing the Blight. Though there was an endless stream of darkspawn and bandits to entertain oneself, there was nothing quite like the feeling of standing against a army with nothing on you but a pair of steel boots and a great sword. Ostagar had certainly been entertaining.

Hawks wiped the grin off her face as she realized how close they'd gotten to Kirkwall. The tall, menacing walls of the gallows welcomed the ship into the docks. Chains connected statues of tormented elvhen slaves in a grotesque show of oppression and power.

Gripping the hilt of Yusaris and slinging the sword across her back, Hawke stood and regretfully broke the handle of beautiful tankard. She chucked the now useless item overboard. She spent a few seconds watching as it floated through the water amongst the other filth of the harbor before focusing on her goal. She'd heard rumours that Leandra Hawke and her two youngest had shown up here in Kirkwall. Apparently they were making quite the stir with an expedition into the deep roads on the way and a contract with one of the mercenary companies here in the city. Hawke had been devastated to hear news that Lothering was destroyed as she'd been captured by Loghains men. She'd been even more destroyed to hear that Barkspawn wasn't sighted along with the family.

Apparently Flemeth had decided she wasn't worth saving from the top of that tower. Hawke clenched her free fist before running her hand through her shortened hair. Leliana had been the only one to truly understand the pain she went through in the dungeons below Denerim prior to being rescued by the Wardens. Hawke had delighted in being the one to duel and execute Loghain in his trial. Hawke waited for the ship to dock before vaulting over the side and landing in a crouch on the pier. She took off at a casual jog into the filthy gallows. Casual only in the sense that the casual passerby had already long since cleared out of her path.

Hawke's armor was forged from silverite and taken from the corpse of a mercenary who'd tried to attack her before she left for Kirkwall. She'd decided to abandon all of her gear but for Yusaris before she left Elyssa. She'd been borrowing it all anyways. Clad in some peasant cloths, Hawke must've made a remarkable target for passing bandits. It'd only taken four or five ambushes before she'd found a decent set to steal. Hawke lived by the motto "It's not grave robbing if they're not in the ground yet."

The first sight to greet her as she jogged into the gallows square was two templars guarding the entrance to the circle. The sight of their familiar scowls brought a smile to Hawke's face. She decided to approach them, her steps exaggerated and wide as she pretended to sneak up on the templars.

She chuckled at the distaste in their eyes before straightening up, "Can you tell me where Leandra, Carver and Bethany Hawke currently live?"

One of them grunted, "Move aside mercenary. We don't have time for the likes of you."

"Oh but what do you have time for? There are oh so many blood mages around these parts," Hawke gestured at the obviously blood mageless streets. She stared at the dust below her, "Maybe the dust mites? I've never heard of dust mites being mages."

The other templar growled, "Leave before we make you."

"Geez, calm down. I guess I'll go talk with the city guards over there, they certainly seem more competent," Hawke knew well the rivalry that tended to form between city guards and templars.

"Check the hanged man. I've seen Carver there on my breaks," One of the templars helpfully provided.

"Thank you fine gentlemen! I'll be sure to complain to your superiors!" Hawke charged off with a laugh as the two bristled at the comment.

"Hanged Man… Hanged Man… Hanged Man…" Hawke clinked her heels together in vain, "Damn, thought it'd work this time."

A nearby woman chuckled at her, "Welcome to Low Town darling. I'm Elegant, Lady Elegant."

Hawke grinned at the woman, "I'm Hawke, Marian Hawke. You wouldn't happen to know where my darling siblings are would you?"

"Bethany and Carver? Last I heard they were out of town with the Deep roads Expedition. They'd been looking forward to it for months!"

Hawke reeled back, stunned, "My siblings!? In the deep roads!" Hawke muttered several unpleasant curse words under her breath before growling out, "Mother…"

Lady Elegant shook her head, "You mom was opposed to it, but they both wanted to go. Something about reclaiming the family glory. Look, you'll need to go talk to Leandra for the full story. Just go around this block and then take a left at the Hanged Man. They left Isabela, Aveline, and Anders behind so be sure to check out the Hanged Man. I imagine they'll be there drowning out their sorrows."

Hawke thanked her, and left with a nod to meet Isabela. Surely her old friend would be more honest about recent events than Leandra. Her mother always enjoyed putting the worst spin on things. The Hanged Man was easy to spot, with drunkards loitering outside and distraught spouses searching valiantly for their wandering partners. Hawke felt a kinship with the place at first glance and vowed to find a replacement for her broken tankard. Perhaps she should drink her sorrows away, make herself even more of a disappointment for Mother dearest… Hawke shook the thought out of her head. She'd talk to Isabella, drown out her sorrows and then sleep. It was always best to approach Leandra in the morning, less people up and about to overhear the screaming.

Hawke swung open the door with a hearty bang and smiled as her eyes feasted upon the abundant amount of people to bother. Of course her eyes were immediately drawn to Isabela who stood at the counter, a guard seated next to her. Hawke decided boisterousness was the best solution to all her current problems, "Why if it isn't my darling Isabela!" the woman turned, her features alighting in a sultry smile.

"Well if it isn't Hawke, never thought I'd ever see your face again," Hawke maneuvered her way to the side opposite the guard and signaled the barkeep over for a drink, "Don't mean to be rude, but what are you doing here? Last I heard you were off with the Warden-Commander fighting the Archdemon."

"I heard my family's in town. Bethany, Carver, and Leandra Hawke. Don't tell me they've been arrested already!"

The guard grunted, a small smile appearing on her face. The bartender came over and slid Hawke a new drink. She decided the metal of this tankard suited her a bit more than the last. The larger handle was certainly helping.

Isabela slung her arm around Hawke's shoulders, "They got damn near close a couple of times. Carver's a hot head isn't he. This is Aveline, she's the most boring person to ever bore."

The guard shoved Isabela gently, a soft smile on her face. She then offered Hawke her hand, "Guard Captain Aveline. I appreciate the work you did over in Ferelden."

Hawke shook the hand before taking several gulps of the miscellaneous liquid in her tankard. Isabela and Aveline seemed morose, a mood Hawke saw fit to fix, "Say, what's got you two down in the dumps?"

They both sighed in unison, revealing to Hawke that she'd made a very bad move. She attempted to recover, "Wicked Grace anyone?" another sigh, "Bandit hunting?" this time Aveline rested her head on her arms, "Gossiping? Brothel? Politics?" Hawke started listing things off quickly.

"Thanks for trying Hawke," Isabella rested a hand on her shoulder, "I think we need a few more drinks before Aveline will be willing to join us though," The pirate winked over at the Guard Captain who let out a grunt of utter disgust.

"Drinking it is," Hawke settled down next to the two and began emptying her newly beloved tankard, "Say, how about a story!"

Isabella groaned, "Not again."

Hawke grinned at her and winked at the suspicious Aveline, "So once upon a time in the tiny town of Lothering," Hawke trailed off as she noticed Aveline's growing scowl, "Not a story?"

Aveline made a non-commital noise.

Isabella supplied her answer, "Not a story."

Hawke deflated a little. She decided to settle into the morose silence. She deflated a little further as she realized that she had probably picked the two dullest people in the tavern to sit with. Two brawls had broken out in the other corner and it seemed like an amazing game of wicked grace was being played at one of the tables.

Hawke shifted nervously before deciding to leave the other two to their sadness, "Well this has been fun, but uh," Hawke attempted to think of an excuse. Nothing was really coming to her so she decided to use the time honored practice of pretending someone had called her name, "I think someone's calling my name in, uh, that general direction?" Her delivery was bad but she made it away unscathed as Isabella and Aveline remained slouched together.

Hawke slipped out of her seat before stumbling a little. Apparently she'd had a bit more to drink than she'd thought. She staggered a few steps forward before deciding to book a room and approach her mom in the morning.

The next morning, Hawke knocked on the door with false vigor. It took but a moment for a grumpy grumble to sound from the other side and for a crack to appear in the door.

"Go away," said a voice through the crack.

Hawke rolled her shoulders and rocked back on her heels, "I'm looking for Leandra Hawke. Tell her that Marian's here."

Suddenly the door swung fully open and revealed the form of a dirty, tired old man. His face was a devastated mess of Amell charm and thievery, "Marian? Like the dead one?" grumbled out the man.

"Yes like the dead one," Hawke glanced over his shoulder, "Is my Mother home?"

The man stepped aside before inviting Hawke in, "I'm Gamlen by the way, your uncle. Tell me, will you pay rent?" He paused and seemed to recognize the armor she was wearing, "I see you will! Tell me, what's a ragamuffin like you doing as a mercenary?"

Hawke took a cautious step into the rickety house. It smelt faintly of old cheese and despair, "Where's mom?"

Gamlen wilted at the ignored question, "She should be back from the viscount any second now."

Hawke nodded before walking over to the dinner table and sitting down on one of four rickety chairs, she unsheathed Yusaris and placed it on the table in front of her. The table creaked under the weight of the sword and Gamlen gulped at the sight of the edge.

Leandra's voice sounded from just out the door, "Gamlen? Why on Thedas have you left the door open?"

Gamlen chuckled as she came through the door, "Er, we've got a guest and…"

Leandra appeared in the doorway with her hair in perfect form and her dress mildly crinkled. Despite the horrid conditions of the house her posture was perfect and her outfit of good make. The wrinkles across her face betrayed the stress of recent times though and Hawke felt some pity for her Mother. Her voice was just as demanding as she remembered it, "It doesn't matter if we have a guest! Have you truly lost all your sense of…" Leandra's voice strayed off as she caught sight of her eldest daughter.

Hawke stood up from the table with a grin, "See you're still howling."

Leandra crossed the room quickly and drew Marian into a fierce hug. The chain under Hawke's plate crinkled as Leandra squeezed her, "You're alive!"

Hawke hugged her mom back, "So are you."

Gamlen left the house quickly. Leandra pulled away from the hug and looked at Hawke's face. She noticed the new scar on her chin and brushed her fingers across it, "How?"

Hawke whipped away some of Leandra's tears, "Luck mostly. I was leaving with Carver when a piece of Ishal fell and we were separated. I told him to run while I searched for a way around. The rest's history."

Leandra tucked some of Hawke's growing hair behind her ear, "I meant how you survived. Did you join Loghain?"

Hawke frowned at the mention of the man, "I'd never join that monster. He," Hawke chocked up as the scars on her back roared in a phantom pain.

Leandra nodded and drew her back in for a hug, "The twins are still trouble you know. I blamed Carver for your death, he was always overconfident in his ability. They've gone off on another adventure now. Some dangerous Deep Roads expedition."

Hawke nodded, "I heard."

Leandra pulled away again and gestured for Hawke to reclaim her seat, "I'll make some tea. You must be tired!"

Hawke shook her head, "I just came from the Hanged Man," she ignored Leandra's snort of disgust, "However, tea would be nice."

Leandra put the pot next to the fire before sitting down at the table with Hawke, "I was just with the viscount. Gamlen gambled away the old Amell estate even though I inherited it. None the less, we should be allowed to move back in soon provided we can gain enough money to pay for taxes and such.

Hawke nodded, "I'm sure the twins will appreciate getting out of here. How are they, Mom?"

Leandra sighed, "Just as troublesome as always. They joined this mercenary company to pay off Gamlen's debt and get us into the city. They've even been doing dangerous jobs around the city to earn money for this expedition of theirs."

Hawke sighed in return, "They'll never change will they," she glanced around the room, "Where's Barkspawn?"

Leandra smiled softly and said, "I was waiting for that question to come. The twins took him with them to the Deep Roads. He's missed you. He sleeps with Bethany at night cause she looks and smells the most like you."

Hawke stood, "I should probably be going Mom. Elyssa asked me to check in with the Viscount."

Leandra stood as well and smiled at her daughter, "I know you're going after them," She drew Hawke into a final hug, "Stay safe my little hatchling."

Hawke grinned and pranced out the door with the merry retort she responded with echoing through the house as the only sign she'd been there at all.