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Gale Galoneth, Queen of Dea al Mon is desperate. 11 of her 12 daughters have fallen ill to the mysterious Waste. While the Brood of the True Born try to conquer her Territory she has opened its borders to call for aid.
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Author Topic: Squall Thrainsson  (Read 840 times)

Description: Warlord Prince. Purple Dusk to Broken Green. Played by WrenStar.

Offline Squall Thrainsson

  • Character Account
    • broken2pd
    • wp
    • greendescent
    • Role

      First Circle

    • Faction

      Glory Glade

    • Territory

      Dea al Mon

    • Character Sheet

      [Link]

    • OOC

      WrenStar

    • Posts

      51

    • View Profile
Squall Thrainsson
« on: Jan 04, 18, 11:13:28 AM »
The Basics

Character Name: Squall Thrainsson
Nicknames:
Age and Birth Year: 21 (born 173 AP)
Race: medium-lived
Caste: Warlord Prince
Birth Territory: Dea al Mon
Home Territory: Dea al Mon

Birthright Jewel: cut Purple Dusk
Offering Jewel: uncut Green

Role: First Circle
Faction: Glory Glade

Appearance

Play By: Eric Fraga
Distinguishing Features: Squall has grown into his looks quite a bit. He's taller, broader, a young man of lean, hard muscle. The broad shoulders he's still filling out some but he very much is beginning to look the Warlord Prince he is becoming. He also bears a few new scars in various places on his body - though the easiest one to see is what looks like three claw marks that cuff over his jaw and partway down one side of his throat.

Personality



Personality:
Quote
Squall fluctuates between the teenager he is and the adult Warlord Prince he’ll one day be.  Like any teen, he’s frequently moody and snarky, convinced that no one understands who he is or what he’s going through. He was raised to the high standard of behavior his mother judged was required to succeed in a Court, but has had little opportunity to use these skills as an independent agent rather than an attachment to his mother’s concerns. He’s still very much a work in progress as he decides who he is, the kind of person he wants to be, and how he fits in to all the power and more experienced personalities in any given Court. 

But he does have frequent flashes of maturity and insight, harbingers of the fine strategic and tactical mind he may develop with the right sort of encouragement. If there’s one thing he’s learned from his Grandmother Thrainsson, it’s that power and planning will get you a lot further than power alone.He plays devil’s advocate with relish (it’s all fun and games until someone loses an eye), argues like it’s a sacred calling,  and defends his territory in arguments with all the painstaking tenacity of a Warlord Prince on an actual killing field. He may not have the same wealth of experience to call on, but Squall is careful and thorough, and will capitalize on the mistakes of those who dismiss him.

He’s already oddly jaded about Court life, even as he clings to the youthful hope that it won’t be that way for him. The Courts are just one big rat race; seemingly complicated, but actually quite easy to weave among if one knows how. And Squall was born to it, trained by a mother who knows all the proper steps and formulas, and polished by a lifetime of watching his smooth operator of a father.

Squall knows he inherited his father’s good looks and breezy charm, and isn’t above using those things to best advantage. He’s an active young man who looks for a little excitement the face of a future which has practically been mapped out for him, and that he’s maybe, secretly, a little afraid he won’t be able to live up to.

He has all the energy or a young Warlord Prince. He’s of an age to start wearing off some of this energy in pursuit of the fairer sex, though he wouldn’t dream of doing so in such a way that would shame his family. He’s more prone to playing the lovesick swain, bent on proving his devotion to the current object of his affections . He’s fully aware of his responsibility as a high-caste male to serve and protect, and takes those duties dead seriously when called to them.

Unfortunately, he is a young Warlord Prince, not far beyond his virgin days himself. He feels and hides a certain amount of insecurity of one who knows that he’s a long way from being able to hold his own with the older members of his caste. Part of his reluctance to leave the Province Court comes from the fact that he’d just convinced a few of the Court’s experienced males to give him more advanced combat training than most males his age are trusted with, and now he’ll have to start over again. Or resume the on-again-off-again conversation he’d been having with Grandmother Dignity about what life is like for one of the rare Warlord Princes who join the Ebon Guard. It would break his mother’s heart if he did, but by the time he’s old enough to make his Offering, he may feel he has no choice. Surely those who fight the Brood have some really special tricks he might use to his advantage in the Courts too.

Squall adores his family with everything that he is. In an oft-duplicitous Court life, blood can be counted on to have your back when no one else will. His father taught him everything he knows, and his sister is the apple of his eye. His mother might not be the most demonstrative of parents, but he’s one of the rare few who see real emotion from her and he has learned to appreciate that rare glimpse for the sign of love that it is. Squall wants to get ahead in life, but losing his family in the process would be devastating to the young male.

In the almost eighteen months he’s been missing, Squall has gone through numerous ordeals. While at his essence he is still the same sharp, sweet, romantic young Warlord Prince - there is an almost ever-present feral edge him now lurking just beneath that practiced refinery he was groomed to practice. He rides far closer to that Edge now than he ever did before, and a snarl is rarely far from his lips even when he seems to be in the chipperest of moods. Virtually the only time he is at peace is when he is working on his art - which has really flourished in the time he has spent virtually isolated in the woods.

Another trait that has truly flourished in the time he has been gone is that bright mind of his. Strategic, tactical, shrewd and analytical - being on his own and surviving beyond the plush support of his family and the Court he briefly served in before his disappearance has forced the young Warlord Prince to use what mental gifts he has in order to keep himself alive and as whole and sane as possible. He approaches each situation in serious, life or death matter. No longer are debates fun and energizing little exercises that give him an opportunity to flex his mental muscles and show off. Even if started in fun, he takes them all extremely seriously - and can get quite worked up over them, becoming stressed, anxious, and even angry if he feels like he’s being attacked or pushed.

Squall has gone through two ruts in the time he’s been gone - both of which (in the absence really of any other option) turned into extremely violent hunting excursions that left the blood of the wild feeding the land in his wake. The intensity of the violence was amped up by the tension that had already been building in him from his ordeals as well as the general lack of human contact, sexual or otherwise, since his escape. Isolation was not an easy switch for a previously very social young Warlord Prince.

A tender hearted young man, and dealing with this all on his own, he came out of the haze more or less horrified with himself and painstakingly retraced his steps to the site of each slaughter. If there was anything left, he carefully prepared the meat - keeping some for himself and leaving the rest as offering at the nearest town or sanctuary. Tears were shed and also offered to the Mother, to the land, for what he had done.

Squall now carries with him a heavy burden of shame, as well. For over six months he’s know where his Queen was. He’s watched her from a distance, he’s sent little messages to her through the trees not even knowing if they’d be delivered. But he hasn’t approached on his own - and he hasn’t been able to build up enough courage to even so much as look in the general direction of his family. He doesn’t even know how they’re doing, where they are. He doesn’t want to hear that something bad has happened to them, or the pain they went through when he went missing, or the disappointment in what he’s become since they last saw him. Moreover, he carries the shame of a coward, for being too afraid to confront them.

Likes:
  • 1 - Art. What was once a hobby and a bit of a talent has since become a true passion and a grounding force. When Squall is drawing, immersing himself in the beauty around him (or you know, the one whispering to the trees down the hill), he truly feels like himself. The him he used to be. The young man with a heart for romance and a drive to serve and protect. Everything else melts away, even the shame and the fear usually constricting his artist's heart.
  • Quote
    2 - Horses. They’re beautiful creatures. The gentle ones are a good way to relax with after a long day and the more spirited provide an exciting challenge when needed.
    Horses remind him of himself and provide a sort of soft focus that he needs to hold back, maintain control of the beast barely beneath his skin. They can sense when he's riding close and become nervous - and the last thing he ever wants to do is scare one of the beautiful, innocent creatures. So he doubles down, he finds and outlet, and he pushes himself to reign it in until he can be around them without them dancing away in fear.
  • 3 - His name. Squall used to hate his name and think that it was stupid - but has come to have a very different relationship with it. In a storm, a squall is a sudden, sharp burst of wind speed. It isn't attractive, and it doesn't seem notable at all - but it can be powerful in it's own right. Squall considers his ability to escape the Brood, to put on that burst of speed and power and surprise, his own personal squall event. Small, sudden, and perhaps innocuous when compared to more impressive feats of nature... but it was enough to save his life and keep him from becoming Brood. Should he ever get the chance, he will thank his mother for the name and beg forgiveness for ever scorning it.
Dislikes:
  • 1 - His own cowardice. "Hate" is probably a better word than "dislike". He is utterly ashamed of himself for hiding, for being unable to face his family or his Queen despite knowing where she is for so long. He feels like he's turned his back on everything his father ever taught him about being a male worthy of service. A part of him knows that he can't, that he won't hide forever, but that doesn't change the fact that he has been a coward for too long now and that brand is one he might never shake.
  • 2 - Isolation. Squall was typically a rather social young man before his disappearance. He enjoyed being around others - particularly Ladies - and found the social interplay fascinating on various levels from flirty exchanges to casual chit-chat to high intensity debates. If anything, the self-imposed isolation he's forced himself into since his breaking has only made him loathe being alone. Once he returns, he'll seek out opportunities even just to exist in the same space as someone else (preferably Epiphany) even if they aren't interacting at all.
  • 3 - Ruts. Being a young Warlord Prince, Squall has not experienced very many of these - and before his time alone he really didn't have a problem with the whole idea. Sure, he was appropriately wary of the risk he could cause - but it was more of a distant understanding than anything else. He has now had two extremely violent ruts, one of which resulted in him being broken of his own Offering.
Fears:
  • 1 - Rejection. Squall knows he is going to return, and soon. He can't sit and watch Epiphany from a distance forever and each day it's harder and harder for him to keep from running right to her. He's terrified that he'll be turned away. That they won't connect anymore. That she'll hate him for being so close and not coming sooner - for being a coward. And when it comes to his family... his father... he's terrified that he'll be shunned. That he'll have proven himself to be completely unworthy as a Warlord Prince and a member of the Thrainsson line, of which he has always been so proud to be a member of.
  • 2 - The Brood. They haunt his nightmares. They are twisted, and wrong, and completely insane. Evil is a word that comes to mind. What if they get him again? What if they succeed this time at turning him into one. He'd like to think he'd die first, but he's been under their ministrations before and barely managed to escape then. And if not him... what if they get Epiphany. Or Fawn. Or any number of the ones he loves...
  • Quote
    3 - Losing his family. They’re all political operators, but they’re usually working on the same side. With his father now bound to a queen not his mother, he worries that personal feelings may turn the situation into more than “just politics”. And he fears that it is possible to do so much damage to a relationship that it just never recovers.
    Squall has very carefully avoided anything that might lead him to information about his family and how they've been in the time that he has been missing. He hates his own cowardice, but he's terrified that he's going to learn that all his fears were realized. That his family is at war with each other. That his baby sister is caught in the middle of it. That the loving home he holds close to his heart as a secret comfort no longer exists, having been ripped apart from the inside.
Craft Strengths:
  • Quote
    1 - Incite Rage. Squall is a teenage male (both emotional creatures) with a father who is a calm, smooth-talking Warlord and an emotionally-disciplined mother who demands perfection from her offspring. He has had tutors in handling the emotional nature of his caste, so foreign to both his parents, but he still slips from time to time. And he definitely doesn’t want to disappoint either parent, especially since moving to the new environment of Eddersea. So he’s learned to spread his rage out to others when venting that temper will damage his or his mother’s reputation- he has developed enough finesse with it so as to make it rarely obvious that it’s not simply other males’ own tempers flaring.
    While a little bit rusty, this is still a skill he has and he utilizes on a regular basis - bleeding out his own temper to the other males around him whenever he is in public and finds that feral edge rising. He is desperate to be seen as the young man he was before he disappeared and this is one of the ways he maintains that image.
  • Quote
    2 - Reading psychic scents. Even a young Warlord Prince has an instinctive drive to protect and care for those females closest to him. Because his females include both a mother who emotes very little and a little sister who’s sometimes too young to articulate a problem well enough for him to solve, Squall learned to be sensitive to clues he can glean about someone’s status through their psychic scent.He’s almost too-sensitive to them, which can be both good (for tactical purposes, sensing the onset of the Waste) and bad (if there’s something he doesn’t like in someone’s psychic scent, it bothers him a lot more than the average Blood).
    After his ordeal and the time he spent in the woods - Squall is particularly attuned to the psychic scent that clings to the Brood and those Waste-afflicted.
Craft Weaknesses:
  • Quote
    1 - Mediation craft. Squall doesn’t make a habit of flying off the handle, but one doesn’t generally keep Warlord Princes around to make nice with others. Leave the diplomacy to the Queens and call Squall when the damsel in distress needs saved.
    Despite his one minor breakthrough that lead to his ability to make his Offering, Squall has if anything deteriorated even further when it comes to this delicate focusing craft. He tries, again and again, because he hopes that it will help him put himself back together - but any attempt tends to if anything bring him closer to the edge as all it does is bring his fears and insecurities crashing to the surface in ways he has no clue how to deal with.
  • Quote
    2 - Breaking jewels. Squall is still young enough to be horrified at the idea of purposely breaking someone’s jewels. Just kill them and be done with it, it’d be kinder.
    Youth is no longer a factor in his horror at this craft. He broke himself and although it was completely on accident and in a frenzy rather than through a controlled use of craft he can now personally relate to that fracturing of a part of his soul, that extreme spiritual loss. He could never fathom doing it to someone else, not even an enemy.
Life Story

Family:
Quote
Grandmother: Dignity Thrainsson, Purple Dusk to Sapphire Witch, Captain in the Red Cloaks (146)*
Grandfather: Danger Rutgen, Summer Sky to Opal Warlord Prince, serves the Province Queen of Devinos Province (159)*
Aunts: Eternity Thrainsson, Purple Dusk to Sapphire Witch, member of the Red Cloaks (69)*
Serenity Camilyn, Rose to Summer Sky Healer, member of the Red Cloaks, afflicted by the Waste (44)
Uncle: Tenor Camilyn, Yellow to Tiger Eye Warlord Prince, serves the Province Queen of Devinos Province, half brother (39)
Mother: Aeonian Thrainsson, Purple Dusk to Blood Opal Queen, Second Circle of the Devinos Province Court temporarily serving as tutor to Epiphany Estinaria of Eddersea
Father: Cyclone Thrainsson, Yellow to Summer Sky Jeweled Warlord, former member of the Ebon Guard and official Escort of Aeonian (71)
Sister: Fawn Thrainsson, Summer Sky Jeweled Witch (age 8 )

History:

Quote
Squall was born in the Province Court of Devinos, the first child of a Second-Circle Queen and her husband. He had a good childhood, raised exclusively in the atmosphere of one of the safest Courts in Dea al Mon. The most contact he ever had with the Waste and the Brood came from oblique mentions on visits to his Red Cloak grandmother.

Though his parents drifted away from one another as he got older and their passions cooled, they were both highly involved in his life.He never doubted their love as they raised him and he tried to make them proud by being the best-trained Warlord Princeling in the Territory. He even doted on his little sister when she was born, old enough at ten to enjoy looking after Fawn instead of being jealous at her arrival.

Teenage rebellion took a slightly different course for him than for most young men. Squall wasn’t willing to damage his family’s reputation at Court with behavior too outrageous. Instead, he did things like trying to rename himself  at 13. He then started spending more time with Grandmother Dignity and Aunt Eternity when they were home and began hinting that he might like to volunteer for the Ebon Guard when he was old enough. He started into sex (which would have been fine) and fancied himself in love with several young women along the way (which was not, as they had nothing to offer in a marital alliance).

Despite a few pointed talks with his father, Squall only started showing better romantic judgement when a young Priestess shot down one of his passes. He settled down and shaped up in his attempts to court her, only succeeding in establishing a relationship a few weeks before his mother up and moved the family to Eddersea.

He sulked about the move at first, resentful of both parents who made him move with them.He swore things would be different when he was old enough to make his Offering. But he went to keep his family happy and found more to like about Eddersea than he thought.

He can always say “I told you so” later.

Barely a year after finding his Queen in Epiphany, Squall went missing on what was supposed to be a day trip to visit some friends he'd left behind when moving to Eddersea. Taken by a brother-sister duo of Brood and tortured for information he didn't have, Squall's formerly unmarred form now bears several scars he'll carry for the rest of his life. The torture, though, he rarely dreams about. Rather, his nightmares are littered with visions of what they had planned to do to him before he escaped.

They were going to make him one of them. They were going to wear him down with the torture and the horror, and when his will had finally snapped... make him into one of them. Well, if he didn't die in the process.

It was a stroke of luck (and maybe divine intervention) that allowed him a window of escape. They forced him to make his Offering, so that in the inevitability when he succumbed to the torture he would be a more powerful member of their cult. This was their mistake. The entire time he was with them the brother and sister (whom literally referred to each other as Brother and Sister, so even that relation he wasn't sure of) were the only two people he saw, so he wasn't sure if this was just their idea or the typical way of things when capturing and converting someone who'd yet to descend. Nor did he really care at the time. All he knew was that the time from dusk until dawn, when he made his Offering - despite being incredibly weak, and exhausted, and terrified - was the most at peace he'd felt since he'd been taken.

Squall had never been good at meditation. He was under extreme physical and mental distress. By all accounts, he SHOULD have failed his Offering. Hell, he probably should have lost his Birthright in the process. But somehow, he came away with the Green. Seeing it there, holding it in his hands, reminded him of who he WAS. Who he was supposed to BE. Not just for himself, but for his family, for his Queen. His Queen!

With a burst of energy he shouldn't have had, Squall hit the edge. Whether he actually killed either of the Brood he doesn't remember. When he came out of it, he was miles away, covered in blood that very well could have been his own, or an animal's, or the Brood's. He didn't know how long he'd been held or even where he was, finding himself in a darker and... twisted part of their beloved forested lands that he'd never seen before.

Too afraid that he'd somehow still been tainted, and unsure if he could find his way even if he hopped the Winds, Squall wandered and learned how to survive. Within a few months, he felt a temper building and he didn't realize that it was the rut until it had already taken him on a near-mindless slaughter run. Somewhere toward the end of the frenzy, something or someone caught up to him that tried to subdue him - and his already depleted (and vaguely malnourished) Green could not bear the strain. He came out of the rut broken of his Green. When he realized what he'd done, what had happened, that he'd been so powerless to stop or direct or manage it even in the slightest - shame overwhelmed him on top of what he already bore as a victim and a survivor.

Thoroughly convinced he could never return home now, even if he found his way, Squall committed himself to survival.

And, in a renewed need to find himself, center himself, his art. He still had his sketch pad vanished, along with a whole set of charcoals he wouldn't need to pluck from the fire. Eventually, after he found a town, he was able to restock both his general supplies and his artist supplies. These trips into towns were always rather short - not because he was necessarily uncomfortable but because it felt so good to be around people again. He was afraid if he spent too much time in town he would end up trying to go home, and he wasn't sure he could do that. That he should do that.

But he couldn't resist the call of his Queen. Somewhere about six months ago, he discovered that Epiphany was ruling - and where. And.. he found her. The first time he saw her - watching from a distance and high up in a tree as she made her own private communions to them - he cried while he watched her. He hugged himself to keep from running to her - then he ran in the opposite direction. From then on, he continued to watch, always from a distance. He made more and more quick ventures into town, keeping his head down and his shoulders hunched, a hood or a hat to hide himself as hoped for a glimpse. He sketched her over and over again. He whispered to the trees, begging them quietly if they would tell her things. Just little things. That she was pretty, that he missed her. He doesn't know if they delivered any of the messages, and he feels a little crazy whenever he does it, but he likes to think they reach her. That the trees love Epiphany just as much as he does - so maybe, just maybe, they'll help him reach her when he can't bear to face her himself. 

And when he's ready, maybe they'll even help him deliver a different message to his Queen. One of homecoming.

Show Us What You've Got

Character in Play:

scritchscritch

A calloused, long-fingered hand brandished the small stick of charcoal like a tiny, delicate, infinitely powerful magic wand - guiding it across the smooth page in a spellwork of lines and shading. Every so often his eyes flicked up to check his subject and then back down again to translate another feature into the reproduction, but other than that and the gentle fluter of his hand across the page, the young man did not move. He might as well have been a part of the tree itself, perched as he was on a high bough with a clear view of the small clearing below - where three wild horses were grazing.

The main focus of his sketch was the stallion. Tall, proud, a deep chestnut with a stark white star on his forehead - all bur marking him as the chosen leader of his small herd. He didn't seem to care that all he had were two mares to rule over - one clearly older (a mother perhaps) and one that Squall liked to think was the stallion's one true love. They were recent migrants to this part of the wood, and the young Warlord Prince had fashioned a bit of a romantic story about where they'd come from, why they were here, where they were going. He already had a couple of sketches of each of them and he was hoping that maybe this spring he might be able to sketch a foal as well.

shwwp

His hand moved in a swift, precise arch, outlining the stallion's strong and powerful neck - making it darker and more definite. He wished that he had some colors, to be able to reproduce the piece maybe in watercolor paints. He wasn't as good at painting - he really hadn't had a lot of practice with it - but it was something he'd like to give a try someday and the colors of the horses in contrast to the somber colors of late fall bleeding into the gray of early winter would make a good color piece.

Sensitive ears swiveled and the heads of all three horses turned an instant before the scent alerted him that there was someone coming. In an instant, he'd vanished the pad of paper and his delicate, tiny artist's wand and was crouching on the bough, eyes sharp as he looked around for a visual.

He heard it before he saw it, and the horses were already gone. It was a carriage.

Squall silently scurried along the bough, keeping in a crouch until he got to just the right spot to launch himself across to another tree. He'd always been athletic, and over the past year leíl had become less a hobby and more just a general mode of transportation. It tended to be safer up in the trees. He hopped another, then another, then pulled himself up a little higher and moved a bit further out, just so he could see.

A carriage, cutting through the wood and off the beaten path. It wasn't moving in any particular hurry, so it must be a shortcut rather than some kind of an escape route - though anything was possible. One driver, two horses. Two guards on horseback accompanying it - one in front and one behind. Someone important than, or at least self-important. And heading for Glory Glade. Where Epiphany was.

His eyes narrowed and he carefully put out a subtle probe, retreating back along the branch and moving to be able to follow it's path.

He followed them all the way there, watching, reading, gathering information. There were three people in the carriage, all of them lighter than his Purple Dusk. One guard was a Prince who wielded the Purple Dusk himself and the other a Warlord who was darker. Both seemed competent. The carriage itself was a private one, not rented - which spoke of wealth. An aristo family, maybe. But why were they heading to Glory Glade? What was their intention?

His temper was grating, he could feel it. Why would they be coming through the wood? Why not take the road?

What was their plan? What were they going to do? Were they a threat? If they were going to hurt Epiphany....

The carriage paused shortly before reaching it's destination and as the door opened and the male occupant exited in order to relieve himself, Squall was poised to attack - high in a tree and sure they were enemies. But as he adjusted his position on the bough he chanced a glance inside the carriage. There, on the seat beside the adolescent girl, was a small pile of gifts in brightly wrapped paper. Tied up with string, topped with bows.

That stalled him for a moment. He blinked, he looked again. Gifts. Winsol. They were visiting for Winsol... and the first chill would be expected soon. They were taking a shortcut so that they would make it to Glory Glade before dark, when it would be uncomfortably cold out.

Squall instantly retreated, darting across the trees and back to his clearing as quickly as he could.

Winsol. Was it really almost Winsol? Had he really almost attacked someone for taking a shortcut..?

He'd clearly been alone for too long.

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Player Name: Wren - originally written by Caryn (all work done by Caryn is in quotes)

Offline WrenStar

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Re: Squall Thrainsson
« Reply #1 on: Jan 04, 18, 11:14:15 AM »
Please roll and break his Offering :(

Offline phinneas

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Re: Squall Thrainsson
« Reply #2 on: Jan 04, 18, 01:15:07 PM »
Weighed by Mother Night...

You've risen from the Darkness blessed with a cut Purple Dusk Birthright Jewel, and suffered through the breaking of your uncut Green Jewel from your Offering.


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phinneas@bloodrites.net  •  Discord: phinn#0798  •  Writer Tracker


Offline Dash

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Re: Squall Thrainsson
« Reply #3 on: Jan 04, 18, 01:21:27 PM »
BREAK ALL THE PD-G
Email: Dash@Bloodrites.net   Discord: Dash#6159

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Offline WrenStar

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Re: Squall Thrainsson
« Reply #4 on: Jan 04, 18, 01:33:12 PM »
Lol be nice Dash ;)

Offline WrenStar

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Re: Squall Thrainsson
« Reply #5 on: Jan 04, 18, 02:02:15 PM »
Once Phedre gives her approval he is all READY FOR ROUND ONE Y'ALL

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Re: Squall Thrainsson
« Reply #6 on: Jan 07, 18, 11:05:54 AM »
Added to the que.
Email: Dash@Bloodrites.net   Discord: Dash#6159

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Offline Phedre

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Re: Squall Thrainsson
« Reply #7 on: Jan 07, 18, 11:34:16 AM »
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Re: Squall Thrainsson
« Reply #8 on: Jan 08, 18, 09:23:14 AM »
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