Hawl
04-07-15, 11:17 PM
Name: Hawl Sorie
Age: Young, with a slim chance of still growing
Race: Human
Height: On the short side
Weight: Entirely too skinny
Occupation: Reluctant Merchant Apprentice, Amateur Explorer and Investigator!
Personality: Hawl is a bubbly sort, usually headstrong. A considerable amount of her time is spent thinking up the next dumbest joke ever, or her next little task for her job. Most of her work as a merchant is as much to attempt to pay the bills and to let her try and fulfill her own interest in monsters and gods. She actually has an fairly unhealthy obsession with them, and has several assorted journals (with varying states of completion) on her observations. Occasionally described as creepily, impeccably chipper.
History:
The history of Hawl is still, unsurprisingly, short. She’s worked in her family’s little merchant shop selling this and that on the island of Scara Brae for a few years now, starting before she could see over the counter without a helpful box to stand on. Her family was just that in a very loose sense. She was fairly certain who her father and mother were, but with so many uncles and aunts and cousins all around to help raise the rambunctious little Hawl the relationship ship became a little odd. Displaying an aptitude and hunger for learning, she was doted upon and indulged often when it came to her various academic vices.
Stories and maps were her favorite, her mind glazing over the old boring streets and towns to the blanker portions often marked with squiggly lines arranged in the form of a monster. More and more stories were devoured as her mind raced. Sometimes she was disappointed by how reality didn’t live up, but every once in a while she was wildly surprised. Things moving a little more, watching some of the magicians in the town, finding a literal monster under her bed, and eve smaller things like the, supposed, bones of a werewolf! At this point now, she’s explored nearly all of her home town of Scara Brae, and she has big plans in the future.
Appearance:
Hawl has an odd look. She almost hasn’t finished growing into her long legs and arms, and doesn’t seem to have enough meat on her bones to fuel any more growth. She has long and delicate fingers, well dressed all in all with well tailored and androgynous clothes. She wears her pale blond, almost white, hair short, naturally spiky and mussed. She would have a pretty face, but her features don’t quite line up right. Her mouth is a little too wide with teeth a little snaggletooth, nose a bit too button, eyes too wide with bright neon blue eyes, creating an ill-fitting collage of a face.
Skills/Abilities
Survival: Hawl has a curious skill at Not-Dying. While far from an effective fighter, the budding explorer has a talent for not being caught in a particular tough spot for long. It should be noted, not losing is a far cry from actually winning despite what the girl would exclaim.
Fate-Barren: Hawl, in a literal sense by some quirk of fate, has no future. Divinations, predictions, even simple guess work of a charlatan tends to miss her as a target. Tarot readings come up as gibberish, her palms has no lines of fate and even something as powerful as antropomancy would be for naught.
Book Learning: Hawl’s education has given her an adequate understanding of sums, a frightening literacy, and basic haggling. Perhaps the most notable skill though is proper documentation and star reading, letting her figure out her coordinates at night. Most of the time, when its not cloudy, or when the stars don't stay still, or she didn’t make a mistake reading them.
Equipment/Weapons:
Oak Stick: A heavy, thick club made out of the root of an oak, and shiny and black with cured lard. Just long enough to either be a walking stick or stowed safely in a loop on her side.
Astrolabe: A curious piece of technology used to help determine Hawl’s location. Her uncle purchased it from an Aleran sailor and gave it to her.
Journals: Several handmade journals that Hawl keeps on her person whenever she can. Several bottles of carefully contained ink, and several pencils.
Rucksack: Just a basic canvas bag, waterproofed with wax and stained with spilled ink.
Age: Young, with a slim chance of still growing
Race: Human
Height: On the short side
Weight: Entirely too skinny
Occupation: Reluctant Merchant Apprentice, Amateur Explorer and Investigator!
Personality: Hawl is a bubbly sort, usually headstrong. A considerable amount of her time is spent thinking up the next dumbest joke ever, or her next little task for her job. Most of her work as a merchant is as much to attempt to pay the bills and to let her try and fulfill her own interest in monsters and gods. She actually has an fairly unhealthy obsession with them, and has several assorted journals (with varying states of completion) on her observations. Occasionally described as creepily, impeccably chipper.
History:
The history of Hawl is still, unsurprisingly, short. She’s worked in her family’s little merchant shop selling this and that on the island of Scara Brae for a few years now, starting before she could see over the counter without a helpful box to stand on. Her family was just that in a very loose sense. She was fairly certain who her father and mother were, but with so many uncles and aunts and cousins all around to help raise the rambunctious little Hawl the relationship ship became a little odd. Displaying an aptitude and hunger for learning, she was doted upon and indulged often when it came to her various academic vices.
Stories and maps were her favorite, her mind glazing over the old boring streets and towns to the blanker portions often marked with squiggly lines arranged in the form of a monster. More and more stories were devoured as her mind raced. Sometimes she was disappointed by how reality didn’t live up, but every once in a while she was wildly surprised. Things moving a little more, watching some of the magicians in the town, finding a literal monster under her bed, and eve smaller things like the, supposed, bones of a werewolf! At this point now, she’s explored nearly all of her home town of Scara Brae, and she has big plans in the future.
Appearance:
Hawl has an odd look. She almost hasn’t finished growing into her long legs and arms, and doesn’t seem to have enough meat on her bones to fuel any more growth. She has long and delicate fingers, well dressed all in all with well tailored and androgynous clothes. She wears her pale blond, almost white, hair short, naturally spiky and mussed. She would have a pretty face, but her features don’t quite line up right. Her mouth is a little too wide with teeth a little snaggletooth, nose a bit too button, eyes too wide with bright neon blue eyes, creating an ill-fitting collage of a face.
Skills/Abilities
Survival: Hawl has a curious skill at Not-Dying. While far from an effective fighter, the budding explorer has a talent for not being caught in a particular tough spot for long. It should be noted, not losing is a far cry from actually winning despite what the girl would exclaim.
Fate-Barren: Hawl, in a literal sense by some quirk of fate, has no future. Divinations, predictions, even simple guess work of a charlatan tends to miss her as a target. Tarot readings come up as gibberish, her palms has no lines of fate and even something as powerful as antropomancy would be for naught.
Book Learning: Hawl’s education has given her an adequate understanding of sums, a frightening literacy, and basic haggling. Perhaps the most notable skill though is proper documentation and star reading, letting her figure out her coordinates at night. Most of the time, when its not cloudy, or when the stars don't stay still, or she didn’t make a mistake reading them.
Equipment/Weapons:
Oak Stick: A heavy, thick club made out of the root of an oak, and shiny and black with cured lard. Just long enough to either be a walking stick or stowed safely in a loop on her side.
Astrolabe: A curious piece of technology used to help determine Hawl’s location. Her uncle purchased it from an Aleran sailor and gave it to her.
Journals: Several handmade journals that Hawl keeps on her person whenever she can. Several bottles of carefully contained ink, and several pencils.
Rucksack: Just a basic canvas bag, waterproofed with wax and stained with spilled ink.