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Hashwin ‘Hazie’ Freemont
[Character Picture]
[Character Picture]
| Age | 24 |
| Species | Pine Marten |
| Pronouns | He/Him |
| Size | Large |
| Build | Broad-chested, narrow-waisted, brawny-limbed |
| Rank | Captain, Imperial Army, and Hero of the Imperium |
PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION:
A male pine marten with a bib of light-orange neck and chest fur contrasting against a rich chestnut-brown over the rest of his body, which darkens on his limbs. A typically masculine and soldierly build, with evenly balanced strength. Eyes of golden-brown. He has a few scars, but most are hidden by fur.
His 7th Battalion officer’s uniform (1757 MSC Pattern) consists of a short green cotton jacket with a white numeral ‘7’ patched on the right shoulder, epaulettes lined with white denoting his rank, and black collar, cuffs and decorative loops between the double rows of buttons. Matching green pantaloons, sturdy black boots. A sharkskin-leather overcoat serves in the case of cold or rain.
When forced to appear in formal settings, his dress uniform follows a similar green motif, but with buttons of gold, a white collar and cuffs, gold floral embroidery down his pantaloons, and significantly shinier boots that have barely been broken in compared to his regular campaign attire.
His preferred method of civilian dress errs towards simplicity and discretion - even bordering on disguise. Rough crumpled workbeast’s shirts unbuttoned, casual pantaloons, big straw sun-hats - one might mistaken him for a particularly well-built fisherbeast or farmpaw. Even his weapon could be mistaken for an odd farm tool. He rarely wants to be recognised as an army officer in civilian company, let alone as a noble. He keeps his stamped-metal officer’s identification tag on a wrist bracelet, and his Freemont signet-ring on a silver chain around his neck, should the need arise to identify himself.
PERSONALITY:
[Smile Like You Mean It]
Sometimes, you need somebeast to tell you it’s going to be okay. That you’re going to make it, that help is coming with the dawn, or that if you trudge one more weary mile, you’ll be home. Even if it’s all a lie, even if the situation is hopeless, just having that beast wear a confident grin can make facing inevitable doom a little easier to bear. Hazie knows how to be the hero everybeast needs him to be, whether it’s standing side-by-side with his comrades in battle, or sitting down with a Smelt journalist to reassure the public that he, personally, has their safety well in paw.
[It’s the End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine)]
Outside of his public persona, those that know Hazie closely would describe him as the happiest of pessimists. He is often fatalistic, expects and prepares for the worst, extends his trust only to a precious few, and has a wicked sense of gallows humour. He is self-deprecating about his arm’s-length list of achievements, cheerfully admits that his career is going down a privy-hole of his own digging, and the way he retells the battles that made him famous would have the listener under the impression he was barely present at all.
[Blue Velvet]
Hashwin Freemont has seeecrets. A dashing heroic public persona hiding a humble, melancholic private persona? Too easy a riddle to solve. There’s blacker, uglier things lurking even deeper. Hazie has a restless soul that takes him wandering through unlit streets at night, that has him mingling with unsavoury beasts, that has him doing and saying things that would make a Smelt scandal-scribbler crawl drooling over broken glass to put into print - if the Imperial censors didn’t stop them first.
STRENGTHS:
[The Definition of a Hero, Part One]
The definition of a hero is somebeast that goes to help when they don’t have to. Selflessness and a strong sense of empathy motivate Hazie to leap to the rescue. He sides with the downtrodden, the luckless and the foolish, so long as it’s redemption they’re looking for.
[Jungle Boogie in the Bilge]
Hazie is the life of a raucous party. He loves a dance, knows some incredibly dirty songs, can tell one riveting story after another to keep even the most jaded cynic on the edge of their seat, and makes every strange behaviour he’s picked up from years serving on the wild frontier into a charming eccentricity. He’s at an advantage to making friends and getting along with soldiers, mercenaries and sailors, working-class beasts and other miscreants.
[Run Through The Jungle]
Hazie wasn’t a born survivor, but he sure was made one. He is over-prepared for every disaster in what might be regarded as well-earned paranoia, and has a streak of practical and mechanical genius to turn whatever he has at paw into a weapon, a tool, or a life-saver.
WEAKNESSES:
[The Definition of a Hero, Part Two]
The definition of a hero is somebeast that gets other beasts killed. Hazie does not handle failure well. At. All. He can hold himself together for long enough to avoid a public meltdown, but his private emotional catastrophising will end with him spending all day in his pyjamas, hiding in boxes, eating entire cakes in bed, and crying.
[Jungle Boogie in the Ballroom]
Hazie has picked up some odd habits from his long eight-year service campaigning in the MSC. The way he dresses, dances, eats and drinks, even the twang of his accent all clash with typical Vulpinsulan high-born culture. He is at a disadvantage to curry favour or ingratiate himself in formal settings, with gentry or nobility, traditionalists or nativists.
[I-Feel-Like-I’m-Fixin’-to-Die Rag]
There’s a fine line between fatalism and a death-wish. Hazie throws himself into danger with recklessness. The acceptance that he will face injury opens the door for him to attempt combat moves or physical feats that he knows will hurt, bleed, or break him.
BIOGRAPHY:
It all started when Hashwin got locked out of the mansion.
It wasn’t his fault he didn’t know how locked doors worked. Servants existed to open doors for him. In fact he rarely needed to leave his room at all, when there was a bell to summon whatever he desired.
One fine summer day when Hashwin was 16 years old, he was particularly determined to win an argument with his sister, Kristina. In the act of storming off in a huff to show her how awful she was, the chubby, overdressed youth waddled straight out of the Freemont estate, went to sulk in a nearby picturesque garden (for Amarone’s public amenities are all picturesque) and then found out upon returning about half-an-hour later that the door was locked, the handle would not turn, and he was too embarrassed to call for help.
As was typical of a teenager in a tiff with an older sibling, Hashwin hurried into the city to try to turn his parents against her before she could poison them against him first, and also so they could let him back in the house, or get somebeast else to open the door for him. He immediately got lost, because he didn’t know where they worked or whatever it was they did when they were away from home so long.
He wandered for hours, unable to do more than making soft whining noises at passers-by. To calm his nerves, he went on a shopping spree - for the Freemonts had credit with all the finest shops, of course. He bought (with his family’s money) a dashing short-cut military jacket in green with matching breeches, a pair of walking-boots, a pair of sharkskin-leather gloves, a wide-brimmed sun-hat, a compass, a jeweled smallsword on a belt with a smartly-polished buckle, several pairs of stockings, a pile of shirts, neckcloths, a seafarer’s telescope, a book on bugs, three honeyed pastries, and an officer’s commission in the Imperial Army.
…that last one was a bit unintended, but he’d already been mistaken for an officer when he was trying the rest of his outfit on, and now that some passing soldiers were saluting him and everything, he was too embarrassed not to acquire the rank of Ensign in the 7th Battalion from the recruiting office. It was also just his luck that Hashwin’s new commanding officer, Colonel Grimdash, happened to be passing by, and the older stoat was eager to take his new brother officer under his wing. As it happened, Hashwin was the only other officer in the 7th, as the rest had resigned the week before when the regiment had received orders to embark Navy transport aboard IMS Golden Hide for a tour of duty deep into the Mahsterious Sahthern Cahntinent. The good Colonel Grimdash was the only one mad enough to stay on.
Before he left, Hashwin did at least manage to write his family a short letter of explanation on the back of a brochure for beasts looking to emigrate to Pricklee Pointe, which read:
Dear Mother and Father,
Felt like getting a breath of fresh air. Just stepped out to join the army for a tour of duty, so won’t be back for a tick. Krissy’s lying. I’ll write to you when I’m coming back, but please don’t come to get me in front of the other soldiers, that’s really embarrassing.
Love Hash
So it was that Ensign Hashwin Freemont accidentally shipped himself off from his comfortable and luxurious life to the far frontier of the Empire with only a mild, embarrassed whimper of protest, because he couldn’t bear to admit he had made a series of escalating mistakes in the midst of a teenage temper tantrum. His superior officer was considered a lunatic, and the soldiers now begrudgingly and barely under what could loosely be termed his ‘command’ were ornery, mutinous, and psychotically violent maniacs that had been rejected from every other part of the armed forces. Hashwin should have been dead by the end of the week.
Instead, he was Mentioned in Dispatches within his first month of service, and his name hardly stopped appearing in official communications thereafter.
Ensign Freemont commended for Gallantry when outnumbered by the Enemy. Ensign Freemont commended for timely Rescue of Comrades whilst under heavy Enemy Fire. Ensign Freemont saves entire battalion from Certain Starvation by identifying Edible Insect. Ensign Freemont brilliantly negotiates return of Captives from Vicious Savages. Ensign Freemont first to abseil Dead Hob’s Gorge and claim in the name of Empress Amelie.
Hashwin, or ‘Hazie’ as his troops had named him (supposedly for the blank, clueless expression that his face seemed to naturally settle into), was a Lieutenant by the age of 18, and a Captain by 20. Though the chorus of praises emanating from every outpost in the MSC continued unabated, there was one message that seemed discordant with the otherwise meteoric rise of a young officer’s career.
Captain Freemont commended for breaking the siege of Larks’ Hill and personally capturing the Chief Squirrel. Refused promotion to Major.
It wasn’t an issue of buying the rank - everybeast knew the Freemonts had the cash. Nobeast could say why Hazie turned down another promotion. He would have been the youngest Major in the army. Then, it happened again. Refused promotion. Refused promotion.
Here’s a bit of trivia about the Imperial Army: The ratio of fieldwork to paperwork required of an officer has an inversely proportional relation. Which is a fancy way of saying that by the time an officer reaches the rank of Major, he is officially doing more work with his rump than his footpaws.
Apparently as much to spite Captain Freemont’s refusal as to reward him, his superiors had him declared a Hero of the Imperium. This accolade gave him a kind of seniority beyond just his official rank - a way of letting everybeast know that they should pin all their hopes and admiration on one of the Empress’ finest soldiers, and expect him to solve every problem and save the day. Truly, it was a cruel bit of manipulation to try and get Hazie to accept the rank that he was fighting tooth and claw to avoid.
The stalemate lasted two years, before Captain Hashwin ‘Hazie’ Freemont, Hero of the Imperium was suddenly recalled to Bully Harbour on the urgent order of the Minister for Misanthropy herself. The letter he received expressed the Duchess’ pleasure at accepting his heartfelt declaration of loyalty to her, and her approval of his impressively annotated application into her elite circle of operatives - the Director’s Men.
The fact that Hazie had written no such application, much less knew such an organisation existed made no difference. The scheming paws of his family were all over this business, and a good commander knows which battles he ought to avoid fighting.
POSSESSIONS/REAL ESTATE:
Khopesh
A bladed weapon with a pronounced sickle-like curve, which can be used to pull away an opponent’s shield, or otherwise disarm them. Also useful for cutting through dense vegetation.
Bolas
A set of three weighted balls connected by sturdy cord, which can be used as a throwing weapon for hunting, tripping and entangling opponents, and breaking limbs.
Sword-Bayonet
A short bladed weapon useful for close-quarters fighting, which can also be affixed easily to a spear shaft.
Knife
A whalebone-hilted knife bought from a shoreside market. A cutting tool rather than a primary weapon, but sharp.
Compass
It points North!
Maps of the Mahsterious Sahthern Cahntinent
A veritable bundle of maps, some made by cartographers, others scribbled hastily by locals approximating various roads or points of interest.
Paw-whittled whistles
A collection of noise-making apparatus whittled from wood or bone, for signaling or calling for help. Some sound more like birds, if secret calls must be made.
Some Kinda Inheritance
As a member of the Freemont family, Hazie is probably entitled to things like ‘net worth’ and ‘hereditary assets’ and even ‘real estate’. All he knows is he’s happy to sign notes and cheques and whatever else makes salesbeasts smile. He doesn’t know how much is even in his own bank account.
SKILLS:
| Physical | Mental | Social |
|---|---|---|
| Khopesh [Seasoned] (4) Something between a sword and a scythe, designed for quick disarms and slashing. | Small Unit Organisation [Trained] (1) Command of small military units in tactical situations. | Heroic Aura [Proficient] (2) Displaying self-assurance and level-headedness in a way that suggests control of the situation. |
| Bolas-Throwing [Proficient] (2) Three heavy balls joined with a cord, swung and thrown to trip legs, break bones, or even hunt birds. | Asymmetric Warfare [Proficient] (2) Understanding how to carry out combat operations with few resources, limited support and no clear front lines. | Disarming Charm [Novice] (0) Using reputation, mannerisms and speech to appear unthreatening, predictable, and obedient. |
| Sword-Bayonet [Trained] (1) Close-quarters fighting with a short bladed weapon, usually as a last resort. | Tinkering [Novice] (0) Making improvised weapons, tools, or fixing damaged equipment. | Seduction [Novice] (0) Making beasts feel wanted, admirable, beautiful or handsome, worthwhile... in other words exploiting vulnerable emotions. |
| Cross-Country Running [Novice] (0) Sustaining a long-distance run over difficult terrain. | First Aid [Novice] (0) Giving care to an injured beast until professionals take over. | |
| Total Points in Category: 7 | Total Points in Category: 3 | Total Points in Category: 2 |
