#helkat

Even over the rhythmic song of his hammer striking the red-hot iron, Rowan Smith could sense Kat entering the shop. Her footfalls were heavy as she crossed the concrete floor and he noted her shadow as it passed through the smoke and light. She was an hour late when the Cathedral bells announced the hour, so by his estimation, she was very nearly an hour and a half late when she arrived. After getting the piece to a place where he could leave it, Rowan put down his hammer and turned towards the shop’s interior.

“You’re late,” he grumbled.

“It ain’t like it fuckin’ matters, Rowan,” Kat called back as she ducked behind a curtain to change into her apron. “You got me on chisels for the masons, like you always do, and they ain’t gonna come pick ‘em up ‘til tomorrow. I’ll have ‘em done whether I am here at seven bells or twelve bells. Then you’ll have me cleanin’ up after you.”

“That isn’t the point, Kat,” Rowan sighed.

The blacksmith knew her story and it helped temper his irritation. She was on her own and had been for nearly three years. She didn’t have to tell him she had faced hardships, and so he put to practice all the patience his art taught him when dealing with her.

“Fuckin’ aye, Rowan. What is the point then?” She huffed as she tossed back the curtain.

The blacksmith opened his mouth to answer her, but his words were lost on a soft gasp as the small, albeit muscular, woman looked up at him. It was hard not to think of her as a child, with her full, round cheeks and bright, sharp eyes, so it was heartbreaking to see them stained with blood and bruises.

“Light, child, were you brawling again, or did someone…”

“Relax,” Kat groaned, waving off his concern. “It was an arranged match. And I ain’t a child. Least that ain’t the story the other guy’s tryna sell round these parts. He’s been tellin’ folks his bout was with a big fuckin’ giant of a man. He’s gotta or he’s gonna be laughed outta the City, gettin’ his ass knocked out in the second round by a girl.”

Rowan could appreciate the woman’s strength, but her love of violence broke his heart. Someone once told her she couldn’t be strong unless she was hard and violent, and now she embraces only that as her identity. She stands with her shoulders straight and pulled back so she could balance the chips on them. She didn’t have to smile to be pretty, but he wondered if she still knew how to express joy. The anvil upon which she was forged, hammered by tragedy and pain, was one that turned out a hardened woman who feared and loathed any softness that once brought balance to her life. Rowan was the only son in a family of twelve, and with his wife, he had only daughters, so in Kat, he saw effortlessly through the front she fought to maintain.

Of course, he couldn’t let onto that.

“Right. Well, the point is, when I tell ya to be here at seven, I expect you to be here. Anyone you ever work for, will expect you to be on time. I am relying on you, Kat. Sure, I got you sharpening axes and chisels most the time, but its work that needs done. And cleanin’ up, well, until I can hire another kid to do it, I need you to. We’ve been busy and what you are doing is just as important as anything else. Next week, I gotta get you to help me make hinges. They’ve got a new garrison going up in Westfall, so the order’s big. We just need to get through the mason contract this week and they must take care of their own chisels this fall while the garrison is getting fitted out. Alright? I need you here, Kat.”

For just a moment he could see the softness she hated in her eyes, and he just looked away while it passed. She tried to hate him sometimes, and he knew it. Rowan also knew he wasn’t the source of her hatred but simply the focus. Kat wanted to hate him for the ways he reminded her of her father. She wanted to loathe him for the ways he was gentle with her and the way he made her feel vulnerable. Those were the times when she would lash out, so Rowan learned fast how best to let her burn out.

“Now get to it. Don’t be late again,” he grunted before she could say a word.

She was still angry, but at least it was anger she chose. She made a gesture and rolled her eyes before stomping to her station. Her reaction brought a sigh of relief from Rowan, though. She was a woman who saw things in shades of rage, and while he wanted her to find happiness, he respected her perspective.

– ––– the basics ––– –

   Name: Katharine ‘Helkat’ Lockhart

   Age: 18

   Birthday: March 17th

   Race: Human

   Gender: Female

   Sexuality: Heterosexual

   Marital Status: Single

– ––– physical appearance ––– –

   Hair: Ash Blonde || Short

   Eyes: Hazel

   Height: 5’4”

   Build: Athletic, Muscular Bulk

   Distinguishing Marks:

3 visible tattoos:

•   Savage, torn claw marks flanking her abdomen on either side

•   Three ravens in panicked flight around the trunk of a tree, along her lower back. (These are part of a larger back piece that is rarely seen in its entirety.)

•   ‘Xaxas’ (meaning ‘Chaos’ in Darnassian) above and between her collar bones.

15 visible piercings:

•    Two black studs in the top of each ear

•   Three rings in the lobe of each ear

•   Two studs in her left brow, on in her right

•   A small ring in her left nostril

•   An arrow through her labret and coiled around the fullest part of her lower lip

   Common Accessories:

A sturdy case of cigarettes and a lighter shaped like a howling wolf.

A hammer (just the regular carpenter sort)

Steel toe boots

Flask of whiskey

– ––– personal ––– –

   Profession: Blacksmith

   Hobbies: Reading, Tinkering, Brawling

   Personality Traits:

Positive Traits: Confident, Determined, Honest, Passionate

Negative Traits: Aggressive, Impatient, Impulsive, Moody, Violent

   Languages: Common

   Residence: Homeless | Occasional Squatter

   Birthplace: Lockhart Family Farm, Duskwood

   Religion: The Church of the Light

   Fears: Loss of Freedom, Dishonoring her Father’s Memory

– ––– relationships ––– -

   Spouse: None

   Children: None

   Parents:

Mother: Jane Lockhart (Alive, Ill)

Father: Tristan Lockhart (Deceased)

   Siblings:

Brother: Cody Lockhart (4 Years Older, Alive)

   Other Relatives:

Miscellaneous Cousins (Open to establishing connections)

   Pets | Companions:

None at this time.

– ––– traits ––– –

   Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

   Disorganized / In Between / Organized

   Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

   Calm / In Between / Anxious

   Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

   Cautious / In Between / Reckless

   Patient / In Between / Impatient

   Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

   Leader / In Between / Follower

   Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

   Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

   Traditional / In Between / Modern

   Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

   Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

   Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

   Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

– ––– additional information ––– –

   SMOKING HABIT: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

   DRUGS: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

   ALCOHOL: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess

– ––– rp hooks ––– –

   Blacksmith in Dwarven District – Although she works as an apprentice officially, Kat has been working with metal for nearly ten years. She helped with the local farmer needs when she was still a child and now, she is learning armorsmithing.

   Local Brawler – Helkat is the name she uses in local circuits and she is starting to make a name for herself. Unfortunately, she doesn’t have a favorable following. She’s mostly infamous for showing up to a fight, mingling while the bets go up, and then, in the ring, knocking her opponent out in the early rounds. Even when organizers try to paint her as a heel, she refuses to lose, which makes more enemies.

“Batdog, Helkat, and the lazy hoodie witch.”