Jeanne Hawke

Jeanne stands 5'7" with a lean, athletic build that is capable rather than bulky. Her fiery red hair is usually pulled back in a braid, ponytail, or messy bun so it stays out of her way, though loose strands always slip free and catch the light around her face. Piercing blue eyes give her away first: observant, empathetic, and carrying a quiet sorrow she never quite hides. Fair skin tanned by outdoor work is scattered with freckles, old burns, and faint scars; her hands are strong and calloused, yet unexpectedly careful when she tends a wound or works a small carving. She prefers simple, durable clothes in natural dyes and is most often seen in the white-and-red robes of the Custodes Sacri. On rare occasions she dresses up elegantly and turns bashful when people notice. Lately, free company members have also been putting her in newer fashions from far-off Alexandria.

Jeanne was born to the Hawke family of the Golden Bazaar; bakers by trade, community anchors by nature. Her father, Jaune, was a man of iron will and flour-caked hands, kneading dough with the same steadfast rhythm he brought to everything; her mother, Lyra, a gentle voice that sweetened the air as much as her pastries. The family bakery was a haven of warmth and simple abundance in the bustling town. Jeanne grew up surrounded by the comforting aromas of fresh bread, the clatter of pans, and the joy of feeding neighbors and travelers alike.

From a young age, it was expected she would follow in their footsteps. Yet despite her best efforts and careful study of every recipe, Jeanne possessed a strange, almost supernatural talent: her baked goods inevitably turned out... wrong. Loaves emerged dense as stone or strangely bitter, cakes collapsed into inedible ruins, and even the simplest cookies defied edibility. No matter how precisely she measured, how patiently she mixed, or how lovingly she shaped the dough, the results were consistently disappointing (and occasionally humorous disasters). The family teased her gently, but it weighed on her - a quiet sense that her hands were meant for something else.

Her solace was found not in the kitchen, but beyond the bakery’s walls, in the wind-stirred branches and fallen timber at the valley’s edge. It was there, among the scent of sap and sawdust, that she met Master Thorne, the aging carpenter. Drawn by the honest work of shaping wood, Jeanne began spending more time in his workshop. When she first took a chisel to mend a wagon wheel, she felt the spark that would define her life: the quiet miracle of creation, the power to bring purpose back to something broken. Here, her hands finally obeyed. Joints fit perfectly, carvings flowed naturally, and beauty emerged from imperfection.

Her parents, though initially surprised, supported her shift. Jaune admitted with gruff affection that her repairs strengthened the bakery’s shelves and carts as surely as his bread sustained the family. Lyra smiled and said her daughter had found her own kind of nourishment for the world. Yet even as Jeanne’s craft grew, the Golden Bazaar waned. The trade routes shifted south, leaving the once-bustling town to rot in the sun. Hope grew brittle. Laughter thinned. Still, Thorne’s workshop remained a haven - until the day the Amalj’aa came. Jeanne was seventeen when the slavers fell upon the dying town. Hidden beneath Thorne’s floorboards in her master’s panic, she listened as her world was torn apart. The cries of terror and pain, the clash of steel, the wet crunch as Thorne hit the floor, her father’s final defiance, her mother’s screams, and her sister Wren’s cries swallowed by fire. When silence came, it was worse than the noise.

When Jeanne emerged, the Golden Bazaar was ash and ruin. Her family was gone; the air was thick with what the flames had taken. The Amalj’aa had left behind only bones and embers.

For days, she wandered in shock, too numb to weep. She buried what she could, salvaged her master’s tools, and carved a small wooden bird to remember Wren, a keepsake she carries still. Her grief did not harden into hatred overnight, but into something quieter: a promise. She would not let destruction be the only thing the world remembered of her home.

The years that followed were years of motion as Jeanne drifted from settlement to settlement, taking work where she could and repairing what others abandoned. Creation became her only prayer, her only answer. Yet wherever she went, her past followed. Her path eventually led her to Gridania. Drawn to the living forest, she joined the Conjurer’s Guild, where her patience, empathy, and attunement to nature allowed her to flourish. Under the guidance of the guild, she mastered the art of conjury quickly, drawing healing from the Twelveswood’s elementals as though it were her purpose in life. By the time of the Calamity, she was a full Conjurer, using her gifts to support the defense efforts.

After the devastation of the Battle of Carteneau, Jeanne felt profoundly lost in spirit. The sheer scale of death and ruin echoed the fall of her home, threatening to drown her in old grief. Seeking isolation, she retreated deep into a forgotten corner of the Twelveswood. There, amid ancient ruins and whispering leaves, she discovered a White Mage’s soul crystal. As she touched it, visions and knowledge flooded her - the secrets of holy, purifying magic. She learned to weave this radiant power with her nature-based conjury, creating a harmonious blend of restoration and sanctity.

Jeanne saw this as a clear sign from the elementals and the gods themselves: her true path was not merely survival, but to continue as a healer, mending the wounds of the world and aiding all who suffer. This discovery strengthened the compassion already at her core. She emerged renewed, more determined than ever to build hope where despair had taken root - one life, one blessing, one act of quiet grace at a time. She found kindred souls within the Custodes Sacri and continues to work with them to heal and defend without fear, so that those who come after may live in a better world.

She does not speak often of the Golden Bazaar. When she does, it is only to say: "Some things burn so others might grow... and some lights return to guide the way."

• Gambling Debts and Unfortunate "Favors": Jeanne’s devotion to Nymeia and her struggles with the casinos of Ul’dah, Kugane, and the Gold Saucer have left her with mounting debts she can’t easily repay. A particularly sharp creditor (or a sympathetic but opportunistic one) might call in the favor, forcing her into high-stakes "work" (perhaps healing for dangerous expeditions, covert escort missions, or using her skills in ways that test her morals.) She laughs it off outwardly but quietly dreads the consequences, creating opportunities for tense alliances, blackmail, debt servitude, or redemptive story arcs.

• Gambling Debt Repayment: After a particularly disastrous night at the tables, Jeanne finds herself deeply indebted to a powerful (or dangerously charming) creditor. Rather than violence, they propose an alternative arrangement - using her body and healing skills to “work off” the debt through private sessions. Torn between pride and practicality, she agrees to these charged, humiliating encounters, all while maintaining her composed healer facade in public.

• Custodes Sacri Missions: As a dedicated member of the Custodes Sacri, Jeanne is often called upon for healing support in Ishgard’s ongoing threats - voidsent incursions, dragon remnants, or expeditions into the far reaches. She may need companions for dangerous patrols or research into ancient aetheric sites, blending her White Mage abilities with the free company’s goals with your unique talents.

• Healer’s “Intimate Care”: On long expeditions or after brutal battles, Jeanne offers (or is pushed to offer) more than standard healing to her companions. What begins as therapeutic aetheric channeling and physical relief evolves into full sexual encounters where she uses her hands, body, and magic to soothe both wounds and deeper hungers. (could turn into heal slutting in duties~)

• Elemental & Twelveswood Ties: The soul crystal’s influence and her deep connection to the elementals draw her back to Gridania periodically. Strange disturbances in the forest (corrupted aether, dying groves) could pull her into investigations, seeking allies who respect nature as she does. Or perhaps the Padjal discover her existence – a rogue mage practicing the forbidden arts of Amdapor cannot be allowed to exist.

• Survivor’s Guilt & Lost Souls: The echoes of Carteneau and her family’s loss surface during moments of quiet. She might seek out (or be sought by) other survivors of major battles or raids, offering healing while confronting shared trauma.

• Post-Trauma Release & Free Use Arrangements: The weight of survivor's guilt and memories of loss sometimes becomes overwhelming. Jeanne occasionally seeks out discreet, no-strings arrangements where she can surrender control completely for a night - impact, restraint, and/or simply being used as a source of pleasure for someone or a group.

• Guarded Heart & Casual Connections: Due to her fear of deep loss, Jeanne prefers casual flings or fleeting companionships over serious romance. (silly slice of life and/or casual sexual encounters)

• Surprise me!: Think of something that fits her or how she may fit in with you, let me know ♪