Hawke had sat by, barely saying a word as the groups interacted. He was too busy planning ahead, thinking on just what he was going to do once he got out. His time in the army was long gone, he would be wanted fugitive, and bounty hunters would most likely track him relentlessly. Sure, he'd be ready for them, but for how long was he willing to be constantly looking over his shoulder? He was considering joining the adventurers, but just then the bloodthirsty noble had struck down their new companion, starting a lightshow of flames.

Might be more effort than it's worth, with friends like these.

That small noble, Kris, always seemed to be scheming something, and getting into trouble. He didn't really know much about the spellbreather, Diana, but he didn't really trust anyone who could kill you with a word. Then again, they probably wouldn't even have him. He was an ex-con with a very big sword. He could see that the fox boy, Scar, looked at him with intense malice behind a mostly disinterested front. And Hawke supposed that the strange noble girl wasn't to blame for her condition.

Well, he'll cross that bridge when he came to it.

For now, he wielded Aether like a massive shield, standing in front of the party and ready to hold back the horde, using the guard's sword in his offhand as a spear. They would not pass.