faderift | Open

WHO: Carver and whoever wants to bug him
WHAT: Junior's back in Kirkwall
WHEN: Today through the rest of the month
WHERE: Various locations through the city
NOTES: He's got an old mabari in tow

[Kirkwall never really became home for Carver. Not in the way it had for his oldest sibling, who made her name here. Rather, it was a brief phase of his life before fate took him elsewhere, far away from the city that he had only visited a handful of times since then.

Still, despite his outward scowl, there's a part of him that's relieved to still see the city standing and, apparently, recovering well enough. A long mission near the Anderfels kept him completely out of the loop for months. Coming back to the surface, and to reality, left him feeling adrift briefly until he finally decided to say "screw you" to Weisshaupt and do what the cool Wardens are doing and up and went to join the Inquisition in some sort of capacity. Imagine his surprise when he learned the Inquisition moved to Kirkwall.

Of course, coming back here was for more than just to join up. He hadn't spoken to either of his sisters for months, and when he heard the oldest was still missing, he knew he needed to find Bethany and see what needed to be done. (And yes, he's worried about big sis. A lot. Where does she get off on disappearing without a word anyway?) So, despite his checkered history with Kirkwall, he knew he'd be coming back to stay for awhile.

When he arrives, he's not sure where to start. Inquisition people pointed him to the Gallows, but the thought made his skin crawl. He can't imagine Beth - or any of the others - staying there anyway, not after what happened. So, he takes off into the city, in search of those he knows.

In Hightown, he sticks out like a sore thumb, in his very dirty Warden armor and equally dirty mabari. Dog's older now, gray around the muzzle and slower than he used to be, but he keeps up well enough as Carver looks around. They stop outside the old Amell estate. Locked and boarded up, as they discover. There's something close to regret in the way Carver looks up at it.

In Lowtown, he feels strangely more comfortable. Still out of place but at least not so inconspicuous. Here he's more prone to browse the stalls, taking in the sights he's more familiar with, though they seem a distant memory now. In fact, one might even be lucky enough to find him in the Hanged Man, getting a drink for old times' sake.

And he can be found nearly anywhere else save the Gallows and Darktown. He might even visit that new magic tree that's sprung up oh so mysteriously, although it'll be mostly to side-eye the hell out of it.]

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"The poor and desperate make easy targets. If this truly is innocent, then fine, but that's not how a lot of people operate in Kirkwall, last I checked."

He hopes he's wrong. He really does.

"So that's a shard. I heard a bit about them. Thought that mostly happened to those people who fall out of the rifts. The ones who say they're from a different world." Which sounds like a pile of bullshit, but then, he hasn't really met any and he's not so brash anymore as to bank on that assumption just yet.

"I've met those, but there are plenty of us who are native, too. We just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time." Skadi's smile grows rueful. It's not something she ever asked to have, and still can't really see it as more than a nuisance.

"Aye? Are you a Kirkwall native, then? I'd hear of your experience, if you're willing to share it." Kirkwall is still new and very strange to her, so it only makes sense to seek out the viewpoint of someone with more insight.

"I don't envy you it, but I suppose it's at least helpful." Someone's gotta close up those rifts, after all. He wants to ask if it hurts, but... eh. It doesn't seem right. Why rub it in? This woman's obviously far from home, with a shard stuck in her hand.

"Not a native, no. I come from Ferelden." Wow, someone who has no idea who he is by sight. This is a nice change of pace. "Came here during the Blight with my family. My oldest sister spent a lot more time here than I did."

"Ferelden? Ah, is this the part where we're supposed to hate each other for the past?" She flashes a grin, not seeming terribly invested in that. "I don't know about you, but that bores me already.

And the Blight...nasty business, that. Some of my hold and those neighboring went to fight them -hoping to earn legend-marks for themselves, I bet- and never came back. I'm guessing it's a lot like that everywhere it touched, eh?"

"Oh. Right. That." Eh whatever. History is history. It's not like the Avvar have really done anything to them lately besides the occasional raid or some shit. What does he care? "Not interested in some rivarly based on ancient history. Well, except with Orlesians, but no one likes them anyway."

He refrains from smacking his forehead at what she tells him. "It's one thing if the darkspawn attack your home and you have to defend it, but why would you willingly go after them?"

Her lips twitch at mention of Orlais, nodding in full agreement. About half the slurs she's heard were Orlesian-accented, so there's no love lost there.

As for his question, she shrugs. "You could say that striking them first before they reach your home is defending it. You could, but I wouldn't be at all surprised to hear that those involved were glory-hounds. Killing a shite-ton of darkspawn is a sure way to that...or it would have been, if they'd returned."

It's so nice that the rest of Thedas can stand united in hating Orlais.

"If they're almost on your doorstep, maybe. And no army should take them off without Grey Warden aid." He shakes his head. "And I say that as someone who was in an army once and took on darkspawn. Not well, I might add."

"Even so, the fact that you did it in the first place took some guts." She moves in a little and offers her hand. "Skadi Iceblade, of White Wolf Hold. Unlike some of my kin, I'll gladly take on darkspawn alongside Grey Wardens, if that's what it takes."

Guts. He'd told himself that once, too. And to protect his family. That part was true, but looking back... it's hard not to be a little bitter, considering what happened. But that's not for here. He nods and takes her hand, gripping it firmly. "Wardens won't turn down good help. Carver Hawke." Now to see if she knows the name...

A firm grip speaks well of him, and Skadi's smile doesn't waver as she hears that name. There's some recognition; if she were anywhere else, maybe it wouldn't surface but this is Kirkwall and the deeds of the Hawkes are inescapable. "Hawke, eh? I've heard that name a lot around here. 'Carver', too, come to think on it. If you were Avvar, I bet you'd have earned your legend-mark already."

Carver snorts as he lets go of her hand. Augh, here we go... "Yes, my sister's the Champion. No, I don't know where she is. And no, I'm reasonably sure she didn't run off with some exiled heiress from Tantervale." He lifts a shoulder in a shrug. "Thanks, I suppose. No idea what that is."

Skadi snorts in amusement at Carver's mention of his sister. "I'd heard it was a Tevinter magister from a vendor, and a Qunari, from a barmaid. Everyone seems to have their own ideas, whatever the truth.

A legend-mark is a deed name, to commemorate something of importance that you accomplished. It's not always about battle, though Avvar being what we are, that's how it happens for most of us. Mine is Iceblade because I brought mine down on an ice bridge, to stop a swarm of dragonlings below. You've no idea what a relief it was not to be known as Skadi Thyrisdotten anymore...or maybe you do." There's a shrewd look, since if anyone's going to understand the drive to make a name for oneself, it's probably the guy with the Champion for a sister.

A Qunari. Oh that's good, given his sister's history with them. Some people just don't think.

"So it's what sets your reputation, and what you're remembered for." Well, that's a very straightforward way of going about that, he supposes. "Not too shabby, that. Though I think you're lucky you didn't go down with the bridge."

There's a barest hint of a smile at her remark. Yes, he does know what that's like, but that's a whole lot of personal issues he's not getting into with a stranger. "I'd be happy to not be known as Thyrisdotten either, given how much of a mouthful that is." So of course he goes for the snark.

Throwing her head back, Skadi lets out a hearty laugh. "Aye, that's one reason! The legend-mark rolls off the tongue far better. And you're not wrong, I nearly did go down with it. That might've lead to a different name altogether, but I'll never find out now. Avvar don't care about what might have been, just what is."

"Skadi Very-Dead-At-The-Bottom-of-a-Ravine, most like." Hurr hurr, look at him being funny.

That gets a snort out of her, as she crosses her arms. "Cute, I'll remember to pass that on to my twin. She'd approve, as she didn't let me hear the end of her lecturing for some time after." Whatever, it all worked out in the end. That's what matters, right?

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