Chapter 1 A Beast Among Men

Metal, noise, blood, and fire. The screams coming from Lothering were near deafening. The Sound of metal clashing against metal as fire razed down everything. Blood was spilt by ungrateful creatures, twisted with a sickening taint that washed off of them in a horrid smell. Their home was burning down unto the ground in a heep of smoke and ashes. The Battle at Ostagar was suppose to stop them. The beacon was lite, yet no one came. The flanking charge. Never came. He had pulled his brother from the fallen pillars and ran. Ran to retrieve his younger sister and mother. From the cold hand of death that threatened to follow. He wasn't going to let the darkspawn take away his family. Not if he had anything to say about it. The running had tired them all. He worried for his younger siblings and his dear mother. He had felt the earth tremble with footsteps not his own. A beast of a thing charged at them from behind. The sheer power the ogre possessed was mind numbing. The horns on that bastard swirled and jutted out everywhere. He remember seeing that hidious creature reach it's monstrous hand down to his brother. Carver tried to protect their mother. He was picked up like a child's play toy and was slammed onto the ground without pitty. The rage that filled Jake Hawke was frightening. He had jumped toward the hulking beast ready to sever it's grotesque head. Then. He awoke.

Jake Hawke sat up in the small bed as he let out a growl. He looked around remembering it was just a dream. A dream he had for days now. Since his brother was taken from him a year ago. He couldn't do anything to save his baby brother. At least he had saved his little sister and mother. Hawke sat on the side of the tiny bed as it groaned under his sheer size and weight. He was never average, or normal. As people would say. He was huge compared to most men. Some believed he was part qunari. No one would have ever thought he was just like everyone else. Hawke reached for his eye patch which rested on a table near by. It looked more like a custom made helmet with sharpened spikes that came off it. Almost like a twisted crown. He moved his long unruly hair from the right side of his face and affixed the eye patch in it's place. He was always different. Everyone practically ran from the mere sight of him. He used to have friends, but not any more. He didn't need any more. Nor wanted any. He was a loner. A lone wolf. He looked out for his family and nothing more. Ensuring their survival no matter what the cost. He stood from the poorly built bed he was sitting in. Hawke looked into the cracked mirror to observe himself. Sometimes he would simply stare as if he didn't even recognise the man in it. His jet black hair was long and unruly. It feel upon his shoulders like a wild mane. Though he did keep his beard in shape. It wasn't long like his hair but more or less well groomed. His cold dark blue eye was as deep and treachous like the Waking Sea. The red tattoo around his eye made it appear he cried blood instead of normal tears. If and when he ever did cry. He sighed lowly as he walked out of the small room. Having to duck down just to get through the door. Reason everyone believed he was qunari. He stood at an astounding 7'5'' tall. His large body hardened by years as a mercenary, among many other things. He weighed nearly 400 lbs. He was a giant of a man. And he was anything but gentle. He could crush a man's skull with one hand. When he opened his mouth, people would hush to hear what he had to say. His very pressence demanded attention. People turned from his gaze as if not wanting to offend him. Hawke made his way into the front room of the small pathetic excuse of a home. His uncle Gamlen's legacy. Gamlen looked up from his chair. His little nephew wasn't exactly little. The boy towered over even him. Suprising considered the boy was only 25 years old. Leandra got up from her chair and walked over to her son. She was worried for him. He had been having that dream just as much as she was. "You dreamed of it again did you, baby?" She asked gently. Hawke looked down at his mother. He hid his emotions so well. It was as if he was tranquil. "I...am fine, Mother." His deep voice cut through the air. "I will get over it sooner or later. I can't have his death distract me from getting this family where it belongs." He said lowly as he walked past Leandra. "Aveline was looking for you dear. She and your other friends are waiting for you at the Hanged Man. Bethany went with Aveline so don't fret." Leandra said to her baby boy. Hawke groaned. "I don't have friends mother. They are just associates." He said looking towards the door. "It is alright to have friends, dear. I am sure they don't mind how you. You know. Present yourself. I do hope you make friends with those people." She said walking up to him to place a hand on his back. "I can make no promises Mother." He replied. Leandra smiled. As long as her baby tried. It was all that mattered. She watched as Hawke walked out of the house into the light of Lowtown.

Meanwhile at the Hanged Man. Aveline was talking to the others. Among them were Varric. A dwarf who was part of the Deep Roads Expedition. His weapon of choice. Bainca a finely crafted crossbow. Next to him sat the apostate mage ex-grey warden, Anders. Then was the scantly clad pirate named Isabela. Along with them was a dalish mage girl, Merrill. And finally. A lyrium bound elven warrior, escaped-slave Fenris. Bethany sat beside Aveline. "Well there is a lot of rumors flying around. If Hawke is willing to actually work with us then maybe we could help." Varric said as he looked at the guardswoman. "You are well aware Hawke has already proved his intentions by actually assisting all of you people." Aveline said. Anders shuddered. "Sure. But is he doing it to benifit himself or doing it just so he doesn't look bad?" Anders asked. Bethany huffed. "My brother means well. It is just. He never had friends before. He had always been alone. He can't help but be...Forceful." She tried to defend her older brother. "We aren't exactly his friends, sweet thing." Isabela spoke up. "He does seem lonely doesn't he?" Merrill asked lightly. "He seems like he does not even like being around us. Though he has not made any action to get rid of us..." Fenris said with his arms crossed. "Then that should be enough to help. After all. I known him for a year. He isn't that bad. He does recognize what you guys are doing by helping him. He also hasn't abandoned me at any point." Aveline said as she sat down. Varric observed one of his ink wells bouncing lightly. "Heh. At least we know when he is coming. The man scares the shit out of the ground as well." Varric mused as the door to the suite opened. Hawke looking down at the ground before focusing on Bethany. He walked over as his eye swept across everyone in the room stopping on a new chair by the table. "I got up the coin to buy that. With any luck. It won't break under your giant ass. heh." Varric said trying to get Hawke to laugh. "Funny. Dwarf. Very funny." He said lowly as he sat down in it. It was made of stone. Hawke sat back in it and somewhat hunched over as he leaned his head onto a closed fist. "We were talking about the expedition, brother. They are willing to help." Bethany said brightly as Hawke looked over to her. "I doubt they are willing to help without wanting something in return. The world just doesn't thrive on... Charity." He growled drawing out the word. "It doesn't matter with me. I owe you a debt anyway." Fenris huffed as he looked at the man. Fenris couldn't even see Hawke's face from this side. He noticed Hawke turn his head to look at him. "That still wouldn't stop you from trying to weasel out of it, elf." Hawke said lowly. Fenris got upset. "I will not simply ignore a debt, Hawke. I also don't believe in trying to get out of one either. I will fight beside you till I pay it off." Fenris growled at Hawke. For a moment the man's dark eye seemed to flash with mirth before becoming void of emotion once again. Hawke peered at the others. "What about you lot? You damn sure don't have any debts with me. Nor are you part of the Expedition. So why stay?" He almost commanded. Merrill leaned her head to the side. "If you think of it. I kind a do owe you. After all you made sure I got to the city safe." She spoke up. "Same here. You helped with Hayder." Isabela spoke up. "You did help me with Karl. Also I gave you the maps." Anders added. "Heh. looks like you're stuck with us. Wether you want us or not, Hawke." Varric mused. Hawke rolled his eye. "Wonderful... Just try to stay out of my way." He growled as he rose from the chair and promtly walked out.

Bethany looked after him. "I think he likes you guys." She said brightly turning to the group of misfits. Aveline sighed. "As much as he likes anything. A full year being around him. He still seems hell bent on being hateful. Makes me wonder what happened to make him that way..." She said as she leaned foreward onto the table. Bethany looked down and shook her head. "I am not even sure Aveline. He has always been like that. Though he does mean well. I think Father's and brother's death still bother him. I guess he just doesn't want to get close to anyone." Bethany sighed as she hugged herself. "Considering what happened to his brother..." Aveline said lowly. Everyone stayed quiet. Isabela seemed to be thinking on something. She got up from her chair. The group looked at her. "What? Am I the only one going to try to get him to like me?" She asked. "We all know you want to sleep with him Rivaini." Varric said. Isabela smirked. "Look how big he is. Makes you wonder if his sword is a greatsword." She cooed as she swaggered out of the suite to go find the hulking man. Anders blushed slightly as he rubbed his face. Fenris rolled his eyes. He has only been with this group of people for five weeks now. So far he concluded that the pirate was a bit of a whore. Varric wasn't that bad. Amusing to be around. Aveline had his respect. He despised the mages with every fiber of his being. The only one that seems to respect him in the slightest was Bethany. One of the few people he can talk to when Hawke wouldn't pay him mind. The only way he can even remotely get information about Jake Hawke. Hawke himself was silent. He rarely talked unless he felt like it. Everytime he tried to talk to the man, Hawke would simply ignore him. Same as with the others. The large man simply ignored them. Though the man did command respect. Fenris would give him that much. Though something about him was oddly familar. Fenris wasn't sure what it was. Maybe it was the way the man presented himself. Always in dark clothing. Sticking to the shadows. Always watching as if ready to defend against an attack. The large man was constantly on edge. What was he hiding from? Was he running from something? Or someone? Bethany had said Her brother had always been aggressive towards people. The man's very nature was hostile. And his brutallity in battle was startling. Fenris looked up to notice Isabela walking into the room pouting. "How did it go Rivaini?" Varric asked. Isabela sat down. "He didn't even look at me. He was too into that bottle of brandy he had hidden in his pocket." She pouted as she leaned into the chair propping her feet on the table. Bethany laughed. "Brother does enjoy wine more than someone's company. He says the wine never talks back to him." She laughed as she took a sip of water. Varric laughed a bit.

In the main room of the tavern, Hawke downed the bottle of brandy he was drinking and groaned. He wasn't even sure he would even connect with those people in that dwarf's suite. Mother wanted him to make friends. Yet how can he do that? He wasn't exactly nice, or charming, or even witty. He didn't have any charisma. He damn sure wasn't funny. His interests were dark, morbid, and cruel. He enjoyed fighting more than anything else. Tearing apart things that offended him til it bleeds. He relished in the suffering of others. The way a fight got his blood pumping through his veins. The thrill on knowing that he could die at any minute. It excited him. He wondered if other people felt like he did. Probably not. He didn't want to get close. He already had his family to care for. He didn't want to get attacted to people outside his family. He didn't want to be weak. To have the company of others made people weak in his mind. He refused to have friends. It would only slow him down. All he needed was his family. No one else. What was the point of having friends any way? All they did was get in the way. Always disappointing. Those people only stayed because they felt like they owed him something. In reality he didn't give two shits what they thought. His mind was brought out of his thoughts as a certain lyrium lined elf sat down beside him. What was with that elf? He seemed to always try to sit beside him. As if waiting for an order. Hawke let out a low growl. "Hawke." Fenris said. Hawke looked up at the elf. "What is it." Hawke asked him. Fenris fidgeted in the seat beside him. "I just want to understand you. After all I will be fighting beside for quite a while. Also I might be able to help on the expedition." Fenris said looking at Hawke on his good side. Hawke sighed heavily. "Is it because you want a cut of the money?" Hawke asked giving Fenris a side ways glance. Fenris huffed. "No. I would not want to incur more debts." He responded. Hawke clawed at the bar top with his talon like gauntlets. Corff watched as he cleaned a tankard. Yet the barman said nothing. Hawke had went quiet. He must not have wanted to talk anymore. Fenris started to get up when Hawke spoke up. "Sit down, elf. You want to understand more about me. Then fine. I am heartless son of a bitch. No offense to my mother. I really hate getting close to people. Mainly because people always let you down, without even giving a shit how you feel. So Always expect the worst to happen. It is much easier." Hawke finished with a bit of a snarl. Fenris was frozen in his spot. He wasn't quite sure what to possibly say. What in the void happened to make this man, hateful towards every person he met? Was he really disappointed at every turn of life? Maybe they were more similar than Fenris thought. If he played his cards right. He just might befriend the giant man. At least with someone of Hawke's stature he wouldn't have to worry about slavers. Fenris took a deep breath. "Is there anything you... Umm. Enjoy?" Fenris tried to keep the conversation going. Hawke suddenly smiled wickedly. "Bloodshed. Have you ever wanted to kill some person so badly. It plagues your every thought?" Hawke asked leaning closer to Fenris. Fenris was not sure if Hawke was talking about him. He swallowed and answered. "There is an appeal to that thought, Hawke. And yes. I do." Fenris took notice that he got the dark man's attention. "I always did enjoy watching you rip a man's heart out using those markings of yours. Must be sensational to feel the person's heart throb in your hand. And knowing that you can easliy rip it asunder from their wretched body." Hawke growled with delight in an almost flirtatious manner. Fenris recognized the tone the man had spoke in. It caused him to blush slightly. This man was definitaly morbid. The barman inched away from the disturbing man. The quickness as to which Corff could move was intriguing. Fenris noticed that him and Hawke were alone at the bar. Everyone else sitting close to them had moved to the far side of the room. This perplexed him. Surely they heard stranger things than this. In fact, Fenris remembered that the only person near Hawke was Corff the barman. Everyone else. Avoided him like the blight. Fenris suddenly realized the entire reason why Hawke never had friends. He scared people. Hawke's appearance intimidated them. Just like him. No one wanted to be around him, simply because he was different. So Hawke must of just went with it. Having been denied friendship, he must of grew accustion to being alone. To being feared by everyone. Fenris remembered that he hasn't said anything after Hawke finished talking. "It is entertaining." He said to kept the man's attention. Hawke took a drink from the bottle that was placed before him by Corff. "Yes. It is entertaining. Hmm." Hawke looked at the bottle and made a disgusted face. He set the bottle down and reached into his pocket. Pulling out an unnamed bottle which held a red liquid. Fenris looked at the bottle. Hawke glanced at him. "My own concoction of rare wine, brandy, and other spirits. I call it a suicide. Just one sip can make any of these drunks kill over dead." He said as he took a drink. Some of the dark liquor ran down from his mouth and into his beard. Fenris wondered how the man could stand to have hair on his face. Even more so on how the man had long hair than ran down his back. Fenris even wondered why some people insisted on wearing an open shirt when they have chest hair. Surely Varric feels inadequate around the man. "Really now. Any chance I can try some?" Fenris asked as his gaze fell back onto the bottle. Hawke looked at the elf. "I doubt you can even stand it." The man said looking the elf over. Fenris felt a bit uncomfortable under the larger man's gaze. But being told he wouldn't be able to handle some mixed alcoholic drink. Well then. He was going to get a bit competative. "Hand me the bottle. I can handle it." Fenris nearly growled at the larger man. Hawke snorted a bit as he clawed the bottle. "You think you can handle something this... Hard?" Hawke smirked. His eye seemed to warm slightly at the elf's actions. It even held some strange look in it. Fenris couldn't help but feel flustered. Was the man flirting with him? It seemed so. Awkward. They were both men after all. Fenris ignored it and held out his hand to take the bottle. Hawke slowly handed Fenris the bottle. Fenris stared at the bottle. He hesitated for a moment before he began to bring the bottle to his lips. Before he could even take a drink or even a sip. A hand grabbed the bottle. "Brother, don't make him drink that. You said you wouldn't offer it to anyone anymore!" An alarmed feminine voice said. Fenris was suprised as the bottle was taken from his hand. "Aww. You're no fun, Sister." Hawke growled. Fenris looked at Bethany. Bethany held the bottle and looked at Fenris. "Did he tell you he mixes poison with his drinks?" Bethany said looking at Fenris. The elf's eyes widened at this. Surely this was a joke. "You're joking right? ... You are joking..." Fenris asked the mage girl. Bethany shook her head. "I am not joking Fenris. My brother does mix poison with his drinks..." She said as the bottle was taken from her by her brother. Who knocked back another swig of the deadly concoction. Hawke got up from the seat with a low growl as he stood. "I was begining to enjoy his company. Truely... Though it would of been impressive if that elf could with stand something that... dangerous. And live." Hawke purred darkly as he walked to the door of the tavern. People avoiding him as he walked out the door. The moment he was gone. Everyone let out a sigh of relief and began talking amongst themselves. "It was a good thing I came down here when I did. One more second and you would of swallowed Deathroot toxins and other poisons. He mixes them with different hard liquors." Bethany said as she took her brother's empty seat with a sigh. Fenris took a sharp breath. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Why... Why does he do that? The mixing poison with drinks..." He asked looking at Bethany. Bethany sighed sadly. "He once said it was to kill the pain... The feeling of death upon him... Makes him feel better. I don't understand why he does that to himself... Mother and Father didn't tell me much. Carver idolized him. I worried for him..." Bethany said as she laid her head on the bar. Fenris felt that he should try to comfort her. He didn't really want to touch her. Even more so since she was a mage. But he slowly placed his hand onto her shoulder. Bethany looked over to him. "I hope you don't think any less of my brother... I know we only knew you and the others for five weeks now." She said. "He is interesting to say the least. He reminds me of someone. Though I am sure that guy never mixed poison with wine and other spirits." Fenris said taking his hand off of Bethany's shoulder. He shook it out behind her. The pain shooting through from having to touch someone.

Outside the Hanged Man, Hawke made his way to a dark alley way. He rested against a wall and sighed heavily. First time he ever talked to anyone, without it being business. He even flirted with the smaller man. He wasn't sure he even liked the elf that way. He took another drink. Feeling it bite back as he swallowed the poisonous brew. The sickening vile liquid burning his throat once more was both a debilitating yet sensational feeling. Bringing with it a twisted kind of pleasure to the large man. He was past the point of caring weither or not it was healthy for him. He enjoyed the crippling effect it had on him. In a sense it dulled a pain that was growing in him since he was young. Flashes of what he used to be. A small thing born into this world of undying murder and rage. There was no peace. There was no safe haven to run to when the unseen threatened to steal you into the cold dark night. He might have been normal, long ago. But that part died as he did. He had always managed to be in the wrong place. At the wrong time. He closed his eye listening to the screams in his head. His father pulling him from the beast's terrible claws and flaming teeth. How a drake even happened upon the small village along with a mature dragon was bizzare. Many people believed they were extinct. They seemed very real to him. As that drake had attacted him and his father. Remembered His mother hid with the other villagers in the chantry. Carver and Bethany were only two years of age. Hawke had tried to be brave and try to fight off the beasts along with a few others from the small sleepy town. His father one of the few men to fight against the fire breathing menaces. Hawke had ran up to one longsword in hand and striked at a drake. It has reared around and clawed his face on the right side. Ripping his right eye out along with a part of his face. The most damage caused was the eye. His father had pulled him away from the creature then and struck it down with an explosion of ice shards. After the fight over and the dragons had laid dead. Hawke had sat there as if the part of his face was never gone. He didn't show any pain from it. His father mortified by what happened had scolded him. He tried his best to heal Hawke. Using the most powerfull of healing spells. He manage to rid his son of the large wound but it left a scar and a gaping hole where his eye used to be. Somethings could not be gotten back with magic. Though Malcolm had noticed his son was forever changed that day. As did Hawke. In some sense he knew. He would never be the same. His father Malcolm had assumed that he was just in shock from losing his eye. As well as his best friends. Having had witnessed their death. The reason he even tried to fight off the dragon. Though he wasn't strong enough. He was weak. There was no reason to even mourn their death. He simply pushed them aside. As if they had never ment anything to him in the first place. They had told him nothing would tear them apart. They said they were going to be there for him. Forever. Yet they died on him. Lillian and Reado died on him. Leaving him all alone. Their death huanted him for years. Everytime he had closed his eye. He would see their faces. He kept their little team symbol.

Hawke opened his eye as the flashback faded. Their memory lived on. Adorned on his face. Over his remaining eye. He never wanted to be that close to anyone ever again. In doing so. He grew hateful, cold, heartless, and cruel. With such brutallity that even demons of rage were afraid of him. Sure death was a part of the world known as Thedas. He seen it many times. It just never hit him that hard until the day he saw them fall. Ever since then. The only friend he had. Was death. He brought it about many a time. As he stood over the bodies of those too weak to fight against him. It was his job to kill. Killing is what he did best. He lived for it. Breathed for it. It called to him like an unending song. It drew him in with its allure of chaos, mayhem, and destruction. It was simply beautiful to him. The beauty of what laid underneath. He relished in the fact that he was stronger now than he had ever been. He enjoyed every waking moment as he tore apart those who have wronged him. Though his ability to go without attacking innocents is starting to wear thin. Lucky there is never a short supply of idiots who think they can take the street at night. He has always been lucky. There was always some fool who thinks they are better than anyone else. He would always put them in their place. But how long could he go without feeling fresh blood upon him? Only time will tell. He was simply a beast among men.