INGLORIUS CHAMPIONS
A.N. This one-shot will twist the very fabric of space-time to bring together my four favorite Hawke's, their love interests, and my favorite warden Matthew Cousland into one large whirlwind of Templar ass-kicking, a long time dream of mine.
Boy, do I need a life.
Eight fighters, four men and four women, stood in a line in the courtyard of Vigil's Keep, their positions relaxed. Four, two men and two women, were the Hawkes, the Champions of Kirkwall, the brothers and sisters who had defeated the Qunari that tried to seize control of the city during their search for the Tome of Koslun. The other four were their lovers, the companions they had picked up throughout their various adventures.
The first, and eldest, was Garret Hawke. Heavy plate armor covered every inch of his body and a massive two-handed sword was slung across his back; a warrior through and through. His skill with blades was equaled by none other than his younger brother, Isaac, though the latter fought with blade and shield. Garret's prowess went beyond the ordinary, however. He had taken into him the blood of a High Dragon, becoming a Reaver, a warrior that could steal the life forces of others to heal himself, and unleash an aura of pure pain to incapacitate his foes. And even if he was injured, his wounds caused him to go into a frenzy, making him strike harder and faster the closer he came to death. In addition, he also had the anti-magic abilities of a templar. Though all the Hawke siblings opposed the Templar Order, the siblings had also been assaulted by insane maleficar and abominations so often that he had been forced to take up the abilities out of necessity.
Next to him, looking very small next to her lover's bulk, stood Merrill, a Dalish elven mage, outfitted in glittering silverite armor Garret had commissioned for her and carrying a bladed staff in her hands. While she looked small and helpless, Merrill was just as dangerous as any of the other seven; she was well versed in primal and keeper magics, and she also had limited knowledge of blood magic. That she was so small and adorable only made her foes underestimate her, and it was a mistake most did not live to regret.
Next to Merrill stood Elizabeth Hawke, her short blood locks tied in two pigtails and a small ponytail. She was armored in scarlet leather, with scale mail on her legs and small steel plates placed along her arms. She was a master of subterfuge, always driving her enemies to fury with her ability to mislead, melt into the shadows, and appear directly behind them to sink her two daggers deep into their backs. Her sapphire eyes gleamed with mischievous glee, and she was always the first with a quirky remark.
Next to her stood a male elf, covered in light armour and snow white lyrium tattoos. His name was Fenris, and like Garret he was a master of two-handed blades. In addition, his supernatural body art granted him unheard of abilities, allowing him to become ethereal and greatly increasing his resistance to magic. His emerald green eyes were hard, calculating, and merciless, though whenever they fell on Elizabeth, they lightened, a small smile spread across his face, and it was as if an entirely different person stood there.
Next to him stood Marian Hawke, holding her mage's staff before her and examining it with sky-blue eyes that were hard as steel, her short black hair falling into her face. Out of the four siblings, she was easily the most ruthless, as likely to kill a downed bandit as Garret and Isaac were to let them off with a warning or as Elizabeth was to mock them and leave. She was a master of fire and ice based magic, as well as force magic, the art of manipulating gravity to suit the mages needs. And, like Merrill, she had limited knowledge of blood magic, though she only ever used it as an absolute last resort.
To her left was Anders, the Grey Warden healer and to date the only thing capable of gaining a genuine smile from Marian. He was one of the most powerful spirit healers in recent history, able to keep the other seven members of the group on their feet through all the battles they fought. However, his power did not end at healing. Anders was possessed by a corrupt spirit of Justice, which had caused him to destroy the Kirkwall Chantry, plunging the world into all-out war between Templars and Mages. Now, whenever he lost control of himself, the spirit would take over control of his body, and unleash ungodly destruction on all who stood in his way.
The final Hawke sibling was Isaac. Like his brother Garret, he was a warrior, a master with a blade and shield. Though calm and diplomatic like his brother, he was just as willing to fight and kill to defend those he cared for. Also, like Garret, he too had taken up Templar abilities. However, he had not taken up the abilities of Reavers, instead learning to channel his own natural rage, becoming a Berserker.
Next to him was his lover, the former pirate captain Isabella. A self-proclaimed duelist, her skill in fighting with duel daggers was only equaled by Elizabeth. The women was, up until recently, the most promiscuous person under the sun, but Isaac had persevered and now they were inseparable. Isaac was just as astounded as the rest of his companions that he had managed to rest Isabella from her old ways.
Just then, Nathaniel Howe, second in command of the Keep, shouted, "TEN-HUT!" The eight fighters all stood at attention. "EYES FORWARD!" Eight pairs of eyes snapped towards the Keep's entrance. Out of it came a single man.
This man was armored in jet black plate armor that, despite its bulk, made almost no noise as its wearer moved. In one hand, he held an elegant helm, as black as the rest of his armor. In the other, he held a large two-handed sword that was curved like a talon, and was covered in enchanted fire. As for the man himself, he had long flame-red hair that fell down the back of his head was tied in two long braids on either side of his head. His face was covered in tattoos that were reminiscent of outstretched wings.
Stopping before the Champions and their lovers, the man said, in a loud voice that rang with authority, "My name is, Warden-Commander Matthew Cousland. And I need me eight soldiers." All eight of the fighters stepped forward. Nodding, Matthew continued. "We are going to be transported to Orlais, dressed as civilians. We will be doing one thing, and one thing only." He leaned forward slightly. "Killing Templars."
"Yes, sir!"
Beginning to pace back and forth before the group, Matthew continued. "The Templar Order and the Seekers of Truth conquered Thedas through murder, torture, intimidation and terror. And that is exactly what we are going to do to them."
Lowering his voice, Matthew hissed, "We WILL be cruel to the Templars. And through our cruelty, they will know who we are. They will find the evidence of our cruelty, in the disemboweled, dismembered, and disfigured bodies of their brothers that we leave behind us. And the Templars will not be able to help themselves from imagining the cruelty their brothers and sisters endured at our hands...and our boot heels...and edge of our knives."
Marian's smile at these words was feral.
Continuing, Matthew began to raise his voice. "And the Templars will be sickened by us. And the Templars will talk about us. And the Templars will FEAR us!"
Now shouting at the top of his voice, he screamed, "The Templar Order doesn't HAVE any humanity. And they need to be DESTROYED!"
Turning to face the group head on, Matthew shouted, "Each and every one of you now owes me 100 Templar helms." He stepped forward for emphasis. "And I WANT MY HELMS!'
Putting on his helm, Matthew asked, "Sound good?"
"YES, SIR!"
Matthew smiled.
A Champion's work is never done.