#Rowan the Hawk

[acourtofquestions]

Anyone else have the permenant problematic mental image of a Seagull instead of a Hawk?😅😂 … cause every time I hear him described as a white bird flying I immediately picture Rowan as this cute little 1989 seagull & proceed to forget everything because it’s TOO funny🤣

[thedragonhermit]

Been seeing the hot witch wife meme floating around and felt obliged to make this addition while I’m suffering from Merrill DA2 brain rot again

[beardedmrbean]

Rowan Atkinson does a reverse Tony Hawk

[sadmages]

A batch of Artfight revenges!

Ciera for Hush-art on AF

Nakir for SugarInferno on AF

and Rowan Hawke for @proserpiiart !

[lethalhoopla]

imagine you're getting a rare research-and-liquor-based sleepover with your bestie after you've had to split ways across the continent to further bear the responsibility of entire nations/peoples when your other best friend and the love of his life/literal Champion of a city-state bust in and inform you that yet another Big Bad is in fact Bad At Staying Fucking Dead

or, I finally came up with an excuse to riff on this post:

[babayagaii]

Hero | Champion | Herald

+ the suit of swords

[palomita-de-la-sangre]

I did this like a month ago but I was unsatisfied with Ronan’s design so I never posted it. I like Alina’s better but it also feels out dated.

[variousxcruelties]

i’m just having a blast this playthrough and recording things that make me laugh

[stormseclipse]

Meeting your hero, expectation vs. reality

Thanks so much @ehiiehn for another awesome commission!

[sarcasticbookdragon]

Damn Buzzard

[dungeons-and-dragon-age]

First attack of the year goes to @proserpiiart and her kickass Rivaini pirate lady >:]

[acourtofquestions]

[vigilskeep]

theoretical full hawke set:

keir hawke (he/him). andersmance. circle bethany. red with blue for flavour. sword & shield warrior, reaver, fierce fereldan dog lord who really just wants to keep his people safe (not that that ever works out)

alanora hawke (she/her). sebdivorce. warden carver. blue with purple for flavour. buff force mage who always tries to mediate, and sides with the templars right up until the, both metaphorical and the actual quest, last straw

aidan hawke (he/him). isabelamance. templar carver. purple with blue for flavour. blood mage, ambitious and defiant, charming and kind, something of a taste for luxury. ended up having more of a role in the chantry explosion than varric will ever admit

mairi hawke (she/her). fenrismance. warden bethany. purple with red for flavour. archer rogue, kind of a bitch, will say anything to rile up a response out of people. all sharp edges, and also always looks a little like she just got fished out of the harbour. my Scrungly. soft spots for fenris and large amounts of explosives only

rowan hawke (they/them). merrillmance. blue with red for flavour. spirit healer. very gentle-hearted, hates violence, struggles over the course of the game with unlearning fear of their own magic. i want to be absolutely clear that merrill is the high constitution buff battlemage in this relationship

[ivycrowned]

An updated doll for Rowan! I have never played a rule follower (or a dude) before and I love him very much your honor

[storybookhawke]

Let's Make a Hawke!

With over 2466 votes overall, this is the Hawke we made together!

Woman + Mage + Purple Personality

Black Hair Color + Short n Choppy + Undercut hairstyle

Heterochromia = Dark Brown Eye + Mossy Green Eye

Facial Scar + Freckles

And the randomly-selected submitted name: Rowan Hawke!

Thank you all for participating! Maybe a warden or inquisitor next? :O

[thesummerstorms]

Rowan Hawke , at her core, considers herself Fereldan, even a decade past the Blight, even if her very being has been cut away at and reformed by Kirkwall. Sometimes, she thinks the readiness with which she has become known as a Marcher stings.

Even her name, thanks to Varric, will go to her death associated with Kirkwall, and not Fereldan.

She was named for the hopeful new Fereldan Queen, Rowan, then still proud and strong, but it's the names of "Hawke" and "Amell" and the choking roots of their history that people pay heed to. "Champion" was just the final bit of ink on the page.

Champion. The Champion of Kirkwall. She had been no Champion in Fereldan.

Fereldan, where her mother had to flee to birth her. Fereldan where her siblings first cried out and where they grew and where they slipped their tiny hands in hers. Where her Father hid and where her Father waited, ever-watchful, and where her Father died.

Kirkwall was a tragedy she couldn't derail, but there was so much before, burned into her mind's eye but hovering ghost-like, unspoken in the tales.

Long, restless summer nights in Lothering, fleeing her mother's voice, tossing pebbles at the Chantry windows, and stealing flowers from the Sisters' garden.

Dust on the West Road, where she and Bethany hid in the dusk and watched, weeping, as their father's blood stained a stray Templar's blade.

Scorched, blighted hills where Bethany's blood watered the earth and her mother's heart turned colder for it.

Kirkwall and its Gallows, its chaos and its responsibility, it carved her into something new. But Fereldan held the first blade.

Near the end of the Inquisition, in those final gasping days before the wolf turned its teeth to their throat, the Inquisitor asks why, with the war ended, she hasn't returned to Kirkwall.

"Kirkwall was my home in the same way Fereldan was," she says, looking out from the parapet and past the gathered army to the silent mountains beyond, "For a while things were... Not good, but as good as they could be. But they both came for my blood in the end."

She hesitates a moment, but if anyone could understand, it would be the Inquisitor, curse-touched and weary, dressed in armor and regalia even in the far edges of the keep.

"And don't tell Varric, but- Well, I think I'm tired is all. Being a Champion shouldn't be a decades long gig."

And just as she thought, the Inquisitor's gaze turns too knowing for comfort. She shrugs it away like a gnat buzzing at her ear, refusing to bend beneath it.

And yet as they watch the sun climbing the mountains in the east, rising first above Fereldan, she can't help but wonder if the scraggly patches of elfoot and dandelions she picked as a child will ever grow again at the edges of the West Road.