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Established February 2010
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* Plot Information for Askavi Terreille

For nearly two centuries Askavi floundered, brought low in the wake of the Red Queen’s war. The institution of one court with its Two Queens and the end of restitution payments promises a brighter future. Still, War knocks on the Eyrien’s door from all sides and the people fight against the need to meet it.
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Author Topic: Sunar Bannok  (Read 96 times)

Description: Warlord Prince. Summer Sky to Blood Opal. Played by Mischief.

Offline Sunar Bannok

  • Character Account
    • ss2bo
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    • Role

      War Camp Leader

    • Faction

      Black Sky War Camp

    • Territory

      Askavi

    • Character Sheet

      [Link]

    • OOC

      Mischief

    • Posts

      27

    • View Profile
Sunar Bannok
« on: Aug 29, 19, 08:36:20 AM »
The Basics

Character Name: Sunar Bannok
Nicknames: No. (Someone called him Sunny once. Their nose still doesn't sit right, two Healers later.)
Age and Birth Year: 1851 b. 1657bp
Race:  Eyrien
Caste:  Warlord Prince
Birth Territory: Askavi
Home Territory: Askavi

Birthright Jewel: Uncut Summer Sky
Offering Jewel:  Cut Blood Opal

Role: Leader of the War Camp
Faction: Black Sky War Camp, Living Lake Province

Appearance

Play By: David Chiang
Distinguishing Features:
Personality



Personality: To most, it would seem that Sunar is little more than your average womanizing Eyrein Warlord Prince. However, those who get to know him find that if still waters run deep, rapids can run deeper. Being a Warlord Prince has suffused and given shape to every aspect of his existence. This can be seen in the wholesale way he commits to every decision he makes; from the care with which he protects the women he cares about and the skillful implacability which he wields towards women he beds, to the fearless strength he poured into attaining his position as leader of the Black Sky War Camp - the only War Camp in all of Askavi to really rival the Blood Seekers. While his Caste and his Blood Opal Jewels have made him a power in his own right, his past has given him the experience he needs not to be as reckless in holding that power as he once was.

After a tumultuous youth, Sunar had just begun to settle down before the Purge. His best friend Vondar and his Sister Fayrian were frequent fixtures in his home, and he in theirs, and Sunar bloomed into a confident warrior in the peak of his prime of life, quick with a blade and quicker with an easy laugh. Some hints of this still shine through, on the best days, however few of such days there are.

The aftermath of Red Queen’s war and Witch’s subsequent Purge changed everything about him. So much loss soured him on the good in life and made him brittle. Taking care of Fay helped, but not enough, not really. Sunar still carries around a wealth of sadness deep inside that few get to see.

Then, of course, there are the women. And also the men. Sunar has been quoted on saying that he’s Night’s gift to women, and most of those he’s bedded would agree. He gets off on the power of the sexual exchange, and the raw vulnerability of it. No one can hide who they really are when they’re screaming in pleasure. Early life heartbreak led Sunar to throw himself unapologetically into an equal mix of fucking and killing, the line between them occasionally blurring for him. Sorting them out is still frustrating, some days, though he tries not to let his short temper affect anyone but especially the women in his life.

Still, he lets no one know how bothered he is by all that he’s lost. He still spends his free time with any willing partner for bedsport or combat training. He has no clue how many children he’s fathered, and since his Ruts come on without warning entirely, he’s certain it’s more than zero, though he would never expect any to walk into his life. He pretends this doesn’t bother him. It does.



Likes:
  • 1 Sex - No two ways about it. Sunar liked sex just... just a lot. In fact, two ways about it would be entirely insufficient. He was indiscriminate about his partners' genders most of the time, with a preference for the female body only if all else was equal. In his book, adventure, fun, and self-confidence in one's own abilities counted far more than the shape of their body. After all, holes is holes, and Sunar was the unquestionable top in every encounter. Not that he hadn't tried bottoming, it just wasn't particularly satisfying, so he didn't anymore. Life, even his long one, was entirely too short to waste on unsatisfying bedroom encounters.
  • 2 Cooking - Not something he would admit to most, but Sunar was a good cook. Maybe even a great one. He found few things as simple and relaxing as he found cooking. He was entirely self-taught, but he had grown up eating delicious foods, and just because he went off to the Black Sky when he was of age, did not mean that he had to stop enjoying good meals. He took it upon himself to make dinner for those in his group within the Camp and after a few centuries of trial and error, he would like to think he's done well for himself. He would be right.

  • 3 His sister - For so long the centre of his world, Fayrian is now also his only remaining immediate family that he is aware of. He had once had three children, by two mothers, whom he lost in the Purge. His punishment for serving the will and war of the Red Queen for as long as he did, he imagined. Mother and father gone. Children and their mothers taken from him too. All he had was Fay and he doted on her, despite the fact that she was a full-grown woman and honestly the more mature of the two of them. Especially since her Breaking, he had become even more protective of her.
Dislikes:
  • 1 Being under Healer's orders - Look. Sunar was a Warlord Prince. An Eyrien Warlord Prince. He led a War Camp. The last thing, the very very last thing he needed was some trumped up stripling of a healer's apprentice telling him to stay in bed, or put his feet up, or take a break from training. A) they usually underestimated his resilience, B) they often wanted him to baby himself to an unreasonable degree, and C)Not a damned one of them seemed to care how it would look to his men if he ran around bandaged like a dainty hearth-witch who had stubbed a toe. He respected healers. He really really did. They were vital to the function of his Camp and the care of his Sister when she needed it. But he'd be damned if they didn't find a way to dance on every last frayed nerve he had.
  • 2 Mocking the Wingless - Sunar lived through the war. His best friend, Vondar, lost his wings fighting against the Hayllians. So did many men fought beside him. So did many men who marched into battle at his orders. When the Hayllian's launched their counter-attacks, women and children were added to those ranks as well, for those who lived in Hayll were nothing if not cruel. Why kill an Eyrien when you could destroy them more fully and yet leave them to draw air? Sunar would never have stood by and allowed someone to debase another who had no wings, even before the War. But since? He'd put more than one man in the ground over it, and would do so again if cause arose. At least they died clean, with their wings intact. It's what they would have wanted, right?
  • 3 Other Territories - The rest of Terielle could, frankly, go to hell, as far as Sunar was concerned. It takes two parties to wage a war, and the fact that the rest of the realm felt that in addition to Witch's purge, reparations needed to be paid to all of them to the point that Askavi was beggared was, frankly, the most petulant form of governance he could think of. Did Askavi owe a debt after the War? Yes, and you'd never hear him say otherwise. Was that debt paid over and over and many times over, long since? Also yes, and fact that other territories still advantaged the war to profit from a dying Askavi made him feel something bordering on the hatred that the Red Queen had carefully tendered and stoked in all of them. Almost, when he thought about the way Askavi had fared at the hands of other territories, he could understand her reasonings. Almost.
Fears:
  • 1 Losing good men - War is a Hell of a thing. It can fill you with fierce pride in your homeland, and in your brothers in arms, in your fathers who trained you and your mothers and sisters who tend the lands in your absence. It can also take each of those people from you and leave a gaping hole where they stood. But his brothers in arms? Those who he trains with, those he brings up through the ranks of the War Camps? Those who he leads into battle? Those are the ones he fears losing most, not just for what it means to him personally, but because Askavi has long since run out of men it doesn’t need.
  • 2 The Twisted Kingdom - He doesn’t fear this for itself, but for what it does to those who he has seen it come for. His beloved niece Kiarian seems more lost to it than not some days, and at least she is a Black Widow. But after the Purge when his Sister needed more than a little work to repair her chalice, Sunar got a closer look than usual at the way it can ravage a person to be lost beyond the grasp of the real world. The men and women who lost their minds along with their wings are present everywhere in Askavi since the end of the Red Queen’s War. What if he is not strong enough, when the next tragedy strikes? Sunar spends many sleepless nights wondering how the Twsisted Kingdom will taste when the madness of the world is finally too much for him.
  • 3 The end of Askavi - He can feel it. Kia talks about it in her odd Black Widow way. He watches it make Fay weep when she thinks he can’t see. He watches the landen grow more sullen and downtroden. The blood villages hardly better or more hopeful. Askavi may not end in a bang, but the creeping of time and the depredations of the Territory have made it clear that the slow fizzle of oblivion is coming, and when it arrives, he only wonders if any of his people will be left alive to notice.
Craft Strengths:
  • 1 Seduction Craft - It’s hard to be as invested in sex as Sunar is, and not have picked up a few tricks. Sunar’s learning and skill go beyond tricks, from the trained to the instinctual. His Seduction craft is guided by a power higher than himself, he’s sure of it, and it’s effective enough that when he claims to be a blessing from Night Herself in all Her Glory, he is only half bosting pridefully. The other half of him, and most of his lovers for that matter, wonder if it might not be true.
  • 2 Traveling Craft - Over the centuries as Askavi’s prosperity has dwindled, Sunar had to begin getting… creative… to see that Fay was as well taken care of as he would like. His sister would not suffer for the crimes of their people, not more than she already had, so if that meant runs over the border to poach in other territories, then so be it. He has learned to jump to and drop from the winds from any location and to slide along those tethers of power with grace and ease.
Craft Weaknesses:
  • 1 Telekenetic Craft - For all of his skill moving himself and manipulating the Winds, Sunar never really got the hang of moving other things with his Craft. He can lift or drag or carry or hold an object forcefully just not gracefully or smoothly. As a result, he can slam a door shut, but he’s as likely to hulk the doorknob off as he is to be able to turn it to open it. If he doesn’t want to spill his coffee or wine, he’s pouring it himself with his own two hands. The other option might risk the mug or glass imploding from the pressure, or flinging past himself into a wall, or toppling over and sloshing it’s contents everywhere.

  • 2 Death Spells - Not unlike his unsteadiness with Telekenetic Craft, he lacks the right kind of finess to manage a death spell. Sure he can explode a head with a bolt of power. But a noose made of ropes of Craft wasn’t going to happen, nor was he going to be stopping anyone’s heart with a glare and a flex of his Blood Opal, nor make them choke on their tongue or drown in their blood. For Sunar to deliver a Death Spell he has to Craft it ahead of time and wrap it around his fist or coat his blade with it. And as far as Sunar is concerned, if he was going to go to that much effort, he might as well just finish the kill the old-fashioned way.


    Life Story

    Family:
    Mother: Wisterian Vasiliev,  Yellow - Rose Priestess
    Father: Sadinar Bannok, Purple Dusk - Opal Warlord

    Siblings:
    Fayrian Avilor, Broken Tiger Eye to BrokenPurple Dusk Queen (Sister)
    Savilian Vasiliev - Tiger Eye to Rose - Witch (Half-Sister)
    Eidolar Avilor -Yellow to Summer Sky Warlord Prince (Brother-in-Law via Fayrian)

    Children, grand children, etc:
    Grovar Bannok (Son) - White birthright Prince; b. 11bp
    Sunian Bannok (Daughter) - White birthright Hearth Witch; b. 11bp
    Brugar Dalikov (Son) - Tiger Eye Birthright Warlord Prince; b. 26bp.
    Precious Bannok (Daughter. Currently unknown) - Opal to Red Queen; b. 141ap
    Ellir Bannok (Offspring. Currently unknown.) - Purple Dusk to Green Priest; b. 57ap*
    Zeltzin Omah (Daughter. Currently Unknown.) - Yellow to Rose Queen; b. 178ap*
    Tavia Davalos (Daughter. Currently unknown.) - Rose to Purple Dusk Black Widow, b. 4bp

    Zand al-Tarazed (Grandchild. Currently unknown) - Blood Opal to Red Prince - b. 108bp
    Theodor Lirion (Grandchild. Currently unknown) - Purple Dusk to Broken Green Warlord; b 43bp
    Elenor al-Sabbah (Grandchild. Currently unknown) - Rose to Opal Queen; b 3bp

    Nieces, Nephews, ect:
    Carian Avilor, Rose - Summer Sky Healer
    Fennar Avilor, Purple Dusk - Green Warlord
    Relinar Avilor, White to Yellow Prince
    Radevar Vasiliev - Summer Sky to Broken Green - Warlord; b 456bp
    Kiarian Vasiliev - Green to Red - Black Widow; b 8bp



    History: Sunar Bannok was born the first child of Wisterian Vasiliev and Sadinar Bannok, and is the elder brother of Fayrien Avilor. Like every other male in Askavi, he was raised in a Hunting camp, and then moved on to join one of the War Camps - and in Sunar's case, it was the Black Sky War Camp to be specific. He was an excellent student of war, made himself indispensable to his superiors, rising quickly through the ranks of young Eyrein men.

    Sunar was a tall man, whose shoulders might have been called broad in a shorter individual. On him, they were just proportional, his wiry frame seemingly able to carry the weight of the world without faltering. When he dressed for the occasion, he dressed well, but he preferred more than most his leathers and armor. He healed well, so while he let himself learn from the pain of most injuries he took rather than having them Healed away, he also had few enough scars that one day many would be surprised to learn he led a War Camp and had for centuries.

    Back home, his sister was the light of his life and the biggest pain in his ass, all rolled into one. It was she who took the piss out of him when he was too full of himself. It was he to whom she cried about her first heartbreak. And it was Fay whom he first confided in about the unusual nature of his ruts - Unlike so many other males, Sunar lacked any forewarning at all, and completely without pattern. Sometimes he might fall into Rut almost like clockwork, two or three years in a row. Sometimes a year or two or even more might pass between outbursts of violent lust. All he knew was that it was unpredictable in the extreme. One moment, he might be holding a discussion with a baker, the next he might have set in for three days and nights of savage Rutting with the baker’s wife. Until he learned that frequent enough sex at least minimized the likelihood of his Ruts falling too close together, Sunar was basically a walking timebomb made of two hundred pounds of well-muscled, well-trained, warlike Eyrien lust.

    Sunar never expected to walk out of his offering on the Darker side of the Opal, but he was well pleased with the fact that he did so, proudly accepting the onus of responsibility this laid on him to rise as far as he could and help to lead his people. He rose to the lower ranks of leadership within the Black Sky War Camp over the course of a few short decades, and settled into that role to season and gain a few centuries’ worth of experience.

    For all of that, however, Sunar was from a race of prideful people, who occupied a prideful territory. And with a prideful (and potentially mad) ruler, the only foreseeable outcome came to pass. Savian declared war on Terielle, one Territory at a time, as she set out to rule the Realm.

    Sunar learned quickly that for all the glory of fighting Jhinka and competing in tournaments, the realities of war are a unique kind of hell. Still, he did his sister proud, leaving an untested boy for all of his few centuries of age already, and returning a man, and a war-hero, though not to the extent of his idol and family friend, Tavar Andros. And when Tavar’s war-party, including his sister’s husband and one of her sons, all came up dead and missing, Sunar was the one to bring the news to Fay, and Sunar was the one she turned to to mourn them together.

    Throughout this time, Sunar never let himself be tied down to any woman. He was fastidious about his brews, and not the least bit unwilling to make sure he had a spare on him in case of an opportunity he’d rather not miss.

    Then he met… her. Trinetta Fabron.

    Sunar believed in love in in the abstract way. He saw Fay and her husband together, and how could one not? Or his parents? Love was real and love existed, sure. But it was never supposed to be for him. It went against every image he’d built up of what his life would be like. And then he woke from a fever on the couch of a poor healer in a land he was trying to conquer, and that image was shattered.

    He was too sick to rise from bed for weeks. The swamps of Dena Nehele carried some terrible maladies to those who had no immunities to such things, and for all of Sunar’s strength and power, he could not fight a battle within himself against an enemy he could not see. Alone and on a scouting mission, when he fell from the sky burning with fever and wracking with a cough, it was in Trinetta’s lap that he landed - quite literally as he fell through the thatched roof of her stonewalled cottage. She refused to back down to his temper and when he snarled at her, she pulled a knife on him and told him he could stay down, or she would make him. He fell in love then.

    She never would explain what made her Heal him, a foreign invader in a land that she had come to specifically to aid in fighting against his people. She’d just chuckle and say something pious sounding about not being blessed by Mother Night to not heal someone who needed it, wings and snarls or no. By the time he could walk across the room again, it was settled in his heart. He loved her, and he was very nearly sure that she felt the same about him. Enough that he tried to convince her to come home with him. And when she wouldn’t, he promised her he would return.

    He kept that promise. He’d find time between battles, he’d show up when he was on leave. He’d come to her when the Healer’s in the war-camp threatened to dock his wings if he went back into the fight before he’d had a month’s rest. All of this cut into his time with Fay, of course, but he did his best to make sure he never neglected his sister or their remaining family.

    He never found out who told his commander, but his affair with Trinetta ended in fire and blood. None of the latter was hers, he always thanked Mother Night for that, but the long and short of it was that his commander did find out that he had a lover among the short-lived filth outside Askavi. Sunar was given a choice. He could end the affair or they could end it for him.

    He refused to give her up, taking wing and catching the Winds. He tried to out-race them to Trinetta, and he nearly managed it. He arrived a few minutes ahead of his pursuit and had time to tell her that she had to go, to hide, to run back to Chaillot. He would join her if he could.

    The commotion outside as others landed put an end to their swift exchange of kisses and whispered promises, and she hid in the root cellar as his commander bodily drug Sunar from the home. The last she saw of him was him being clubbed over the head and then kicked in the ribs when he went down.

    THe last he saw of her was the flames licking at the thatched roof as his comrades torched her home. Neither of them knew at the time that Trinetta was pregnant.

    Each thought the other perished.

    When Sunar healed from his beating and subsequent lashing at the post, he was positioned away from the war front for most of a century. In that time, his broken heart slowly healed, he regained lost honor, and threw himself into the war efforts with the verve and vivacity of a man with nothing left to lose. He rose quickly through the ranks again, no longer content to lead small raiding parties. He had his eye on the command of the whole of Black Sky. And Sunar was not the sort to take no for an answer. Every hour he was not with his sister and her family was spent either on the battlefield or in a bed with a comely partner as he tried to drown the emotional pain with the right combination of physical pleasures. He was only partly successful. He stopped caring about who he slept with, barely remembering their names, and hardly ever returning to the same woman for more than a quickie or two. He stopped really keeping track of his brews, no longer caring about the shape of his future nor the family he might one day have.

    Year followed year in this manner, Fay and Vondar the only two people that Sunar retained any closeness to, until perhaps a century before the sudden and devastating end of the Red Queen’s War.

    It was another young healer who snapped him out of his monotony of fucking and killing, though not in the most pleasant of ways. He was commander of Black Sky by that point. She was among a group of men on the killing field of all places, and dressed as one. A well-executed strike led by him saw every man of the enemy company slaughtered in a few impressively bloody seconds. Every man and one woman, a little Hayllian healer who couldn’t have been all of a century old. Her body, incongruously small among the others scattered around made an image that seared itself into his mind. It also cracked the icy walls he’d built around his heart.

    He cried, for the first time in most of a thousand years. He cried every night in his sister’s arms, her Touch the only thing keeping him grounded and whole as he grieved not just his terrible mistake - for Sunar did not believe in killing women or children, and he considered that Healer both - but also he grieved for the love of his life and his lost chance at peace with her.

    That moment effected a change that outreached that day or that month or that year. Half a century of ice-melting later, he was considering courting seriously again. Thirty years later, he’d met two women who he both cared deeply for, and who cared deeply for him. They were cousins, they were inseparable, having lost everyone else in the war, and fortunately for Sunar, they were very willing to share.

    Two decades in, he’d begun a small family, his women, his children and himself quite content in his small Eyrie.

    Another dozen years passed, and his heart and soul were ripped from him again. This time, as a direct action of Witch Herself.

    Sunar was passed out drunk after a night of celebratory drinking. When he awoke, the world was as so much ash in his mouth - bitter, burning, dissolving and leaving a foul taste for an unreasonable length time afterwards.

    He burried his mates and children. He helped Fay do the same. The years began to tick past again, somehow, and he recovered slowly, finding strength and purpose in helping his Sister. He grew stronger in spirit once more but Askavi… his homeland, his motherland did not.

    Old habits die hard, and as he began to lose himself in battle - this time against the strangely growing threat of the Jhinka, he also began to lose himself in the boudoirs of any and every man or woman who tickled his fancy. And as Askavi began to wither and starve, he began to range further and further afield searching for food to fuel his own Blood Opal, to make sure Fay stayed fed and didn’t do that damned self-sacrifice thing Queens always got up to, and to take care of a few of the families of fallen brothers in arms.

    Of course, this meant that he was at times not in Askavi when his Ruts came upon him. So, though he had never given it thought, he wasn’t wholly surprised to hear that he had grandchildren somewhere out in the world, and he wasn’t displeased in the least either. Times were a bit lean to be picky about who you called Family, in his book, and anyone who he had sired, he believed he had some responsibility to - one which he would gladly act on, given any opportunity to do so.

    He lost everything once. It took a long time for him to consider settling again, and when he did, the Purge destroyed his heart for a second time.

    No one, least of all Sunar, is sure he will withstand a third.

    Show Us What You've Got

    Character in Play:
     Sunar was having a bad day.

    He had been roused well before the sun that morning to have to pull apart three boys who had decided to get into a fight over... well, he still wasn’t sure what. While certain that he must have been every bit as much a pain in the ass as every other young man, he could not help but to feel that every generation was fucking stupider than the last.

    He’d thrashed each one soundly and assigned them enough extra training and labor for the next month that if any of them had both the balls and the energy to go at it again, he might just let them.

    If his day had calmed from there, that would have been fine, but just as he was heading back to bed for another blessed hour of rest, a war party had returned to camp, with too many injuries, and three dead bodies. So Sunar saw to it that the men who needed care were sorted out to the best of their healers, and made note of whose families he would have to notify.

    Then he gathered a dozen men and went personally to extinguish the life-flames of the Jhinka who had robbed the Black Sky of one of their best warriors. That was successful enough, and there were even survivors in the small village. Not enough to rebuild, but enough. Maybe enough to make a difference. He told off two men to stay behind and help count the dead and keep watch while the survivors gathered their belongings, buried their dead, and moved further in from Jhinka territory. Another mile of land ceded to the enemy and it galled him.

    He was most of the way back to the camp when he realized he was still bleeding from a gash at the base of his left wing. He swore violently when the Healer grounded him for three days. He told her he would take those days, though it would be starting tomorrow. He still had one thing left to do. They were at a standoff for several long, tense minutes, before she relented, but only if he consented to wear a brace around the base of his wing until he was done flying so that the wound would not re-open. He considered snapping her neck at the suggestion, but settled for growling and allowing her to wrap the area.

    Then, he went to tell the families of the men he had lost. One had no relatives, but the other two… one had an infant son and a daughter of thirty-six who cared for him. The other had a wife and a father and sister still.

    So it was that by the time he landed outside of Fay’s place, looking to take some comfort in his sister’s presence, that his mood had gone from poor to bad, then from bad to worse… And from there to downright foul. Fortunately, she was still a Queen, despite the tragedy of the Purge. She calmed him just by being, and she probably needed some new supplies anyway. As usual, when he showed up, his Psychic cabinet was stuffed with things for her. Food, rice mostly, because he’d be damned if she was going to eat like a peasant, but also fabric for new clothing, what books he could find that he didn’t think she already had, and a few brews and tonics from one of the healers at his Camp. It was the sort of thing that let him Serve in as unobtrusive a way as possible, which was important because Fay was quick with the back of a wooden spoon and had little tolerance for being fussed over, even when she very badly needed to be. He had even found a book on soil composition testing and corrections using some newfangled Landen methods. It was beyond him, but it seemed the sort of thing that Fay would like.

    Regardless, by the time he dropped from the winds ready for three days in his sister’s company, Sunar had had a bad day.

    He shucked the healer’s brace because like fuck was he walking around with that bullshit on him or hiding it behind a sight shield like he had done all day. Then he marched up to the entrance like he owned the place (because that’s how he went everywhere if one were being honest) and let himself in.

    “Fay! It’s m-” He stopped speaking abruptly as his eyes locked onto the being, the Queen, that was lounging in his sister’s room. His wings flared, painfully, and he bared his teeth as a reaction to that pain - and the fact that his world was spinning.

    Petitions

    Reactivation:

    Why did this character become inactive? Mental and physical health both tanked pretty hardcore, and I couldn't manage to stay on top of my characters

    What will you do to prevent this character from becoming inactive again? Hopefully not that? I can't promise it won't happen again, but I can promise to do my very best. Health stuff is stupid and brains are stupid, but I am growing more adept with each passing year at handling all that nonsense better.

    What are your plans for this character? Sunar is all wrapped up in the trio of Queens who rule his life: His sister Fayrian, the Broken Queen. His lover, Talyrian, the Flightless Queen. His Granddaughter, Elenor, the Homeless Queen. These three women shape every aspect of his life now, and he has to learn to balance all of their needs against his own drives to protect, serve, protect, cherish, protect, obey and damnit all, protect - In a world where forces are moving to destroy all three of the lives he holds most dear.

    Number of previous Reactivations for this character: 0

    Changes Made to Application for Reactivation (if any) : N/A Link to archived sheet for reference

    Player Name: Mischief

Offline Mischief

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Re: Sunar Bannok
« Reply #1 on: Aug 29, 19, 08:37:21 AM »
Ready for Reactivation review.


Offline phinneas

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Re: Sunar Bannok
« Reply #2 on: Sep 05, 19, 02:56:21 PM »
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