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* Plot Information for Little Terreille

A naive Black Jeweled witch has destroyed the Territory Court. From its ashes a new court is being constructed, one run by a manipulative killer. As the blood runs in the streets of Goth from open gang warfare, the Steward of Little Terreille begins a gambit to rebuild the Territory from the ground up and challenge the Star of Kaeleer.
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Author Topic: Merihem Striker  (Read 1056 times)

Description: Warlord Prince. White to Rose. Played by DragonGirl

Offline Merihem Striker

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      Headmaster

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      Ackley Academy

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      Little Terreille

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Merihem Striker
« on: Oct 01, 17, 12:10:22 AM »
The Basics
Character Name: Merihem Ariete II
Nicknames: Merihem Striker, Moe
Age and Birth Year: 2358, 2165BP
Race: Long-Lived (Dhemlanese)
Caste: Warlord Prince
Birth Territory: Dhemlan, Terrille
Home Territory: Little Terrille
Birthright Jewel: White, cut
Offering Jewel: Rose, uncut
Role: Headmaster
Faction: Rockland Province
Appearance
Play By: Hale Appleman
Distinguishing Features:
Moe is lanky, with long glossy black hair that he keeps tied back in a ponytail at the base of his neck and that falls almost to his waist. Just on the cusp between handsome and beautiful, but a little past his prime, Moe almost always has a smile plastered on his face, one that shows just a little too much of his teeth to be comfortable. No one, looking at him, would immediately think predator, despite his caste, were it not for the gleam of cunning in his eyes.

Moe dresses well when he wants to, but almost almost always in clothing that almost but doesn’t quite match. A perfect suit with brightly colored socks? Yes. A casual sweater and trousers with a ridiculous scarf? Of course. This is deliberate, like most things he does: a tool to throw people off their stride and make them perceive him as less of a threat than he is. After all, what could a Rose Jeweled male, even a Warlord Prince, really do to you?


Personality


Personality:

Moe has two distinct personalities. The person he shows to the world is an oddball: goofy, prone to extravagant terms of endearment and bizarre proclamations, most consider him a harmless eccentric. He cultivates this face with the careful precision of a master gardener with his prize orchid. He misses no opportunity to steer conversations to topics that he wants to press, and constantly drops important pieces of information to manipulate those around him where he wants them to go. The people he wants to impress learn, after a while, to listen when he speaks, because while 99% of what he says will be filler, that 1% is worth waiting for.

His real self is much more serious. He is viciously ambitious and driven, and will do anything to get what he wants in life. His desires are less conventional than most. Money only interests him in so far as it is useful to accomplishing other things. Power is better, and power starts with information. He wants the influence to make changes in the world, and the knowledge of where to make them. Twice his master plans fell apart, the first time with the war with Askavi, and the second in the Purge. This has left him with a lot of drive but very little focus, and all of his hopes and fear rest on the knowlege that his Queen is out here. He just hopes that his bond to Odelle will show him the path ahead.

For someone whose desires are so lofty and theoretical though, he is a bit of a hoarder. Moe likes things, although not necessarily ones that other people would consider valuable. He vanishes bizarre object all the time, and if you wonder why, just wait around. In a hundred years, that might be the very useless piece of junk that is the difference between life and death, and he gladly give it to you...for a favor or a price.

His nature as a Warlord Prince has always been something Moe struggles with. He is intensley territorial about family. If someone were to touch his sisters, that finger would come off, and he hates when they move outside of his sphere of control. When his control slips, his rages are all the more destructive for being rare. He has little ability to hold himself back once he starts sliding, and this has caused plenty of problems. The only person he thinks he wouldn't hurt in a blind rage is Chiara, but hopefully, he will never need to find out. While he rarely kills and injures with his fists, he takes delight in standing back and watching his subtle spells bring down oponents far stronger than he is.

Likes:
  • Chiara: She is his little sister, his prize possession. He takes care of her better than he takes care of himself, and woe betide you if you think you can take her from him.
  • Knowing the Future: He loves his sister, but he loves what she porvides for him even more. When she cannot see what is coming, he will find someone else who can. Moe hates being unprepared as it makes him nervous, and loves the power of knowing what's coming before anyone else.
  • Novelty: Life for the long lived can drag on. Moe seeks out the new, the exciting, the bizarre. It thrills and excites him.
Dislikes:
  • Unpredictable People: Like a master chess player, he likes to be three, or three-hundred, steps ahead of everyone. This is difficult if pieces on the board start moving against the pattern of the game.
  • Boredom: Don’t lock this man up without entertainment, or he will shred the skin off his bones. Boredom is his anathema.
  • Having to do things himself: Boredom might be terrible, but laziness is great! WHy lift a finger when you can blackmail someone else to do it for you. Nicely, of course.
Fears:
  • Chiara’s Death: His power is all wrapped up in the dreams and visions his little Black Widow spins for him. Without her, he is nothing that a Rose Jeweled Warlord Prince, and his power would quickly wane. This is why you die if you touch her without his permission.
  • Queen’s Bond: What if it changes him? He’s know it was coming for quite awhile now, and honestly considered just avoiding the woman entirely. She was in another Realm after all. Alas, curiosity killed the cat.
  • Another Disaster: The Purge set his plans back by centuries. It was tragic, inconvenient, and Merihem does not want a repeat.
    Craft Strengths:
  • Death Spells: As a Rose Jeweled Warlord Prince with little patience for physical violence (messy, obvious affair that it is), Merihem is a master at creating Death Spells. They wrap around vessels in the heart or brain and with only the smallest breath of power pinch down. Such large effects for such a small amount of work. Let down your guard around him once, and you probably have a ticking time bomb inside you, waiting for Moe to decide you are no longer useful.
  • Psychic Monitoring: Moe likes to know where all his pieces are, and what they are doing. It helps with timing the perfect arrival, or offering a piece of information that will steer those around him to exactly where he wants them to go.
Craft Weaknesses:
  • Combat Craft: Moe has no time or patience for messy violence. Elegant and inconspicuous is more his style. Who has time for angry relatives coming to extract a Price for beheading some poor fool. Much better to think the idiot just died of a hitherto unsuspected heart condition.
  • Aural Shield: He can't make one, and it pisses him off. There is no reason for why this piece of Craft has eluded him for centuries and centuries, but nothing! He has made up for this by just chattering incesently to make people ignore him because they think he has nothing important to say, but it's a piss poor substitute. 
Life Story
Family:

Mother: Sonira Ariete, witch, Summer Sky - Purple Dusk -deceased
Father: Merihem Ariete, warlord, White Descent -deceased
Siblings:
Soraya Ariete, Healer, Summer Sky - Opal (these Jewels are rolled) -deceased
Tessa Ariete, Priestess, Tiger Eye - Purple Dusk (these Jewels are rolled) 2351, 2172BP
Julian Ariete, Prince, Summer Sky - Purple Dusk (these Jewels are rolled)  2348, 2177BP
Mateo Ariete, Warlord Prince, Tiger Eye - Purple Dusk (these Jewels are rolled) -deceased
Chiara Ariete, Black Widow, Purple Dusk - Green (these Jewels are rolled) 2345, 2180BP

History:
 
He was the eldest of six, born into a wealthy family in Dhemlan, Terrille. One by one his siblings followed him in quick succession, each one but the last bearing the unmistakable Psychic Scent of a specialized Caste, unlike their parents, each doted upon by Merihem, his youthful Warlord Prince territoriality sharpening with every new crying infant placed in his arms. Possessive was too quaint a term for how he felt about his siblings, especially the youngest of them all, his precious little sister Chiara, the only one who was just a witch and therefor even more needing of his protection. Their parents had no idea what to do with their gaggle of talented, opinionated children, so tutors were found, employed, and left to care for them.

It was Chiara who first started calling him Moe, while she was still too young to pronounce his full name. The others picked it up, and it was only their parents who took issue to it. Moe wasn’t a suitable name for their eldest son. Black hair was the sign of the long lived races, a source of pride, so Moe colored his strange and unnatural colors for close to a decade. Wearing nice clothes was expected, so he did, but the styles would always be off, or his shirts wrinkled, or he would borrow one of his sister’s accessories and wear them without context or explanation. These small shows of rebelliousness were just the first signs of the pissing contests that would define his childhood and adolescence.

He went into his birthright cocky and confident that he would walk out with at least his mother’s Summer Sky. What met him there, that reach into the Darkness, scared Merihem more than he would ever admit. The abyss stretched out before his young mind and he realized that he could only take a single step into it, that he would never see the truth that lay deep beyond. It was the first time that the fury that was as much a part of his nature as his possessiveness first danced to rest just below his skin. It rode with him as he walked back out to his mother, holding his White Jewel, and it boiled under the surface every step of the way between her and his father. His father who was the source of the weakness in his blood, that kept him from the power that should have been his Birthright.

One by one each of his siblings too took the hands of a Priestess and came out with Jewels. Each stood deeper in the Abyss than Moe, born with more power, more like their mother and less like their father. Merihem hugged every one of them, smiled, and seethed where no one could see him. Not at them. Never at him precious brothers and sisters, but at a world where it was the Jewels one wore and not their intelligence or drive that set some people above others.

Tall and gangly, fighting appealed to his nature but not to his natural abilities. Unlike Mateo, the other Warlord Prince of the family who was all muscle and swagger from the time he could run, Merihem was forced to learn to rely on speed instead of brute strength. Angry as he was about not being able to rip a foe limb from limb, his training in precision and tactics in the sparring ring taught him valuable lessons for the rest of his life as well.

Thinking, that was what won a fight. Choosing the time, the location, the scenario of a conflict could turn the tables no matter how powerful the opponent was. In the dark it’s not the strongest who wins, but the one who can see, and his siblings...they were his eyes.

He learned to play a different game than others did during his teenage years. He learned the family’s trade. His father was a banker, an investor of some renown. He would lend to those in need and receive interest in return, would bet on businesses rising and falling, would take advantage of the desperate, the poor, the hopeful. Merihem watched, and learned, but not the lessons his father wanted him to.

Pitiful. That was what the man was. Small minded and pitiful. Money was important, but only for the power it could buy, not for the marks themselves. Money could move history, especially in the short-lived territories, yet their father couldn’t see it.

Power was the only thing that mattered in life, and power began with tools.

Soraya, the Healer, was a quiet, studious girl. Moe helped her with her lessons, escorted her to her classes, brought her chocolates and coffee when she studied late into the night. He kept her secret as she fell in love with a man their father would not approve of, and made sure the man in question did not cross any lines until after she had safely had her Virgin Night. She considered him her favorite sibling.

Tessa, the Priestess, was fire and passion and teeth. He snuck her into his room at night to teach her how to use a knife, and played hookie with her when playing escort duty, taking her on adventures that thrilled her. When she wanted out from under their parents thumb, he arranged for her to finish her training at a prestigious Altar across the country. He wrote to her every day. In those letters, she often wondered what she would be without him.

Julian was the kind one. He wanted his life to be one of service. Merihem did not enjoy the notion of throwing one’s life away on such selfless notions, but he was his brother, and soon he realized that Julian could make connections for him that the Warlord Prince never could have. People liked him, in a way they never liked Moe, and that was a power of it’s own. So Moe groomed him. Julian would be his diplomat, his face in the public eye. He helped him learn the finer rules of Protocol, encouraged him to mingle with other youth, to follow his heart, and if their parents disapproved...well, just leaved that to your brother Moe. Julian was never sure if he liked Merihem, but he was certain that Moe had his back.

Mateo was the easiest to shape into a tool. He wanted simple thing. To fight. To be the best. To conquer. To be loyal. Dumb and pliable, but with a good head for tactics, all Moe had to do was point him in a direction, and generously praise him when he rushed in and back, prize in hand. He never trusted Mateo like he did some of his other siblings due to how easy he was to manipulate, but trust wasn’t needed on both sides. Mateo trusted Moe, and that was all that mattered.

And then came Chiara. Bright, lovely, brave, compassionate. She was all his favorite parts of all his siblings, and her gifts...they were exquisite. WHen she hit puberty and it was discovered that she was a Black Widow, Moe rejoiced with her. From the beginning, it was the tangled webs of dreams and visions that drew her, not the other aspects of the Black Widow’s Craft. She studied with a Coven, and even though she was not supposed to, she taught Moe just enough, late in the night, that he could follow her excited ramblings, and occasionally peer into the webs she wove. She was the one he never pretended around. He did not try to be something he was not, and yet for all the ambition, the anger, the darkness inside him, Chiara loved him still. It was her love that meant the most.

A few months before his Offering, Chiara took his hand and lead him deep into the woods that bordered the family estate. She was still in training, but she knew enough to have spun a small tangled web. She told him that she had seen something in a tangled web. Her vision was incomplete and vague, but in one thing at least it was clear. Their family only had two futures: one, under their parent’s thumb, would see them all perish long before their time. The other, under Moe’s, would give them a chance at surviving.

The day of his Offering, Merihem dressed in red. He plunged once more into the dark, as deep and hard as he could go, and arose with a Rose Jewel. He passed by his brothers and sisters without a word, until he fall to his knees before Chiara. He looked up at her, at the only one who knew what he planned to do and waited. She might not be a Queen, but she held his leash in this moment, and so, he waited.

She nodded, a movement so small that many might not have seen it.

Their father lay dead at her feet one minute later. Their mother died of a fatal and up until then unknown heart condition a few days later.

Merihem, with great outward reluctance and much pride, became the head of the family.

The decades that followed saw each of his brothers and sisters go through their Offerings and training. Moe arranged for everything they could need, investing wisely but boldly and growing their influence in Dhemlan, until the day when Chiara once more took his hand, and told him that the coming darkness was almost here.

Out of Askavi, the Eyrians came, but they did not reach his family. Even though the first wave was defended against, Chiara knew they would come again, and Moe had listened. He relocated the family to Shalador, moved their accounts, changed their last name to Striker and sold their businesses in Dhemlan, reinvesting in the war effort.

It was a rough few centuries. Mateo balked at Moe’s orders not to join in the fighting, wanting to test his metal again trained Eyrians. Julian warned him that tightening the leash would not end well, but Moe could not see another way, and it began to split the family apart. In the end, when Dhemlan fell, Moe’s control did too. Mateo, Tessa, Soraya and Julian left home and launched themselves into the war effort in exactly the way Moe had sought to protect them from.

The day he got the news Mateo had died was the first time in centuries that he let go of his iron-fisted control. He raged through the forests of Shalador near their new home, screaming and crying and feeling entirely powerless. A few years later, Julian brought Tessa home, the shell of the woman she had been after being captured and brutalized by a roving band of Eyrians, then left for dead. He turned on Chiara. What was the point of any of the work he had done to keep the family safe if all of them were to be killed or left broken? Why fight his nature and not join the war? Why any of this. Chiara just looked him in the eyes and said: “this was the best outcome. If we had stayed, we would all have been dead.”

Soraya was the next to fall. It wasn’t the war that took her, but childbirth. Moe had not even known she had married.

It was deep in the night when Chiara woke Merihem, eyes wide. “It’s coming. Listen carefully, Moe, because after today, I won’t be the same. You must remember, alright? Everything depends on you remembering. One day, a Queen is going to be born in Little Terrille in Kaleer. She is your Queen, the one who will hold your leash the way I have tried to. It is imperative that you go to her, but I can’t tell you when. Your decision in important in this, although I’m not sure why. You must bring only me with you, but you must bring me, no matter the state I’m in. If you don’t you will die in her service, and the rest of the family with you, do you understand?”

He didn’t, but he didn’t get a chance to ask, because that was the moment the dark, screaming power of the Purge washed over their house and family.

He remembered bellowing in pain and rage, then thin arms wrapped around him and an unholy, animalistic scream shook his eardrums. When the power ebbed, Chiara lay in his arms. Her Jewels, like his, were unbroken. He would find out that they had only been saved because Julian had shielded the house, breaking both his Jewels. Tessa had been broken back to her Birthright in the final moments and Chiara…

Her body was whole, her Jewels still shone with power, but something deeper had cracked. Her chalice lay in pieces, and he understood, in a moment of terrible clarity, what she meant when she had said ‘no matter the state I’m in.’

In the aftermath of the Purge Moe gave Julian half of the family assets. He left Tessa in his care, making him promise that he would take care of her until the last, took Chiara, who looked at him with vacant eyes and wove webs that made no sense, and left.

It was a waiting game from then on. Without siblings or businesses to tend to, Moe focused all his territorial and obsessive nature entirely on his sister, as she walked roads deep in the Twisted Kingdom. Her unbroken Jewels gave her the power to still practice her Craft, but it was up to Moe to chronicle and interpret the tidbits she fed him, most of which made no sense. She never left his sight or side, and to those who knew him, she was just the oddest of his many quirks. He laughed and joked and teased her and others, never hinting at the pain her state caused him every day. Yet all the joviality would drop in an instant as he rose to the Killing Edge if anyone dared lay a finger on his precious sister.

It was in those nearly two centuries that he formed his new hobby. Chiara’s visions had always been prolific, and now Moe decided to follow them where they lead. More often than not that was nowhere, but when it wasn’t, the payout was always beyond his wildest dreams. She would mention something he could pinpoint, and he would be off. If it was to slip on a wet spot and go flying just to hear her laugh, that was worth it, but then there would be the time when they would find a hundred mark note on the sidewalk. Following these threads became a game they played together, inside jokes piling on top of shared experiences until two all but became one.

Then the time came when his Queen would be born. He knew it was time because Chiara babbled about babies for days. Somewhere, in another Realm, the woman who would hold his leash had breathed her first breath. Merihem had been pondering what to do about that ever since the Purge. Should be go to her right away? He could have a hand in how she grew, how she thought. He could shape her as he had his siblings. The temptation was strong, but one look at Chiara reminded him how poorly his last attempt to control the world around him had gone.

“She’ll need a teacher” Chiara said one day, half way through chewing a bite of meat.

“A teacher? Do you mean she needs me to teach her something?”

No answer came, just the sound of chewing.

He still didn’t go. His anxiety was getting the better of him. What if the Bond changed him? What if it made him care less for his sister? SHe had said he must go to her, but if she was short lived, maybe he should wait until she grew old, that way the days serving her would be short. Or maybe he should rush across the border tomorrow to cherish every minute he could.

Still, she would need a teacher.

Moe got a job teaching at a school. Might as well get some practice.

He started playing a game with Chiara. It was called: “Her perfect Prince”

Moe would lay down hundreds of pieces of paper in front of the Black Widow, each folded with a word written inside.

“Pick five.” He would tell her, with a smile.

She always picked the same five.

Trustworthy. Confident. Loyal. Diplomatic....Spy
Seasons passed, then years. His choice. Going would be his choice. He started sending feelers into Little Terrille to gather information. He needed to know more than what Chiara could tell him. After almost a year and thousands of marks, he narrowed the list of likely Queens down to a single name. Odelle.

More money, more time. He had a dossier about her two inches high, and a list of reasons not to go down to a single bullet point.

What if it was the wrong time?

Fear, though, had never been Moe’s style.



Show Us What You've Got
Character in Play:

Moe sat back in his chair and watched the clerk across the table from him. The man was old and balding, with the sort of bored expression that one only saw in the short lived races. The boredom of a male who knew that it was too late in his life to fulfill as his boyhood dreams, and better to just drone away the miserable years of monotony until death. There must be a peace in that, in putting one’s ambitions aside for wide-eyed sleep. But it was not for Merihem. He was awake, now more than ever before in his life.

”I told you, Prince Striker, it is up to the Territory, Province or District Courts to choose you, not the other way around. The best I can offer is to have you send a note to Lady Ackley’s Steward, and see if he might be interested at looking at your resume.” the clerk said for the third time. Moe looked over at Chiara, who was tossing a coin up in the air and back down again over and over again in a hypnotic arch.

She caught his eye and shook her head. *The Seward will not do. The coin says tails, not heads. Stewards are all head. Tails and Tales and Trails. Tails Tails Tails.* Moe heard the voice in his mind on a psychic thread as he watch the coin land head-side down again and again and again. More times than should have been possible.

He turned towards the clerk and smiled brightly.

”Tell me, Ben, do you like your job?”

”My name is Thomas.” The clerk said, confused.

Moe ignored him, brushing away his words with an airy hand gesture.”You see, Ben. I think you don’t like your job at all. It’s all about saying no to people, all day long, that’s got to get stressful after a while, doesn't it, Ben?” He asked, leaning forward and smiling so that all his teeth would show, and adjusted the bright blue hat he had chosen to wear today. With a touch of Rose Craft he started moving into Thomas’s heart, feeling it beat faster as the Warlord Prince’s face got nearer to his own.

”Ah….”

”Stress is bad for the heart, Ben. You should take more vacations. Maybe somewhere sunny. Get a few drinks on a beach. You know, fun!” Moe’s voice was just as bright and cheerful and non-threatening as his teeth were not. He wrapped just a thread of Craft around an artery in the clerk’s heart, crafting the spell that would allow him to end his life at any time, from anywhere, with only a thought. ”Get a tan, look sexy for the wife. Maybe make friends with a coconut. They provide simply the best conversations.”

Thomas was looking more and more confused. Moe sat back in his chair, legs crossed and trousers riding up to show brightly striped socks. He called in two items, each appearing on the desk. One was a stack of marks, the other a letter.

”I’m worried about you, Benny. To see such a young and handsome man looking so stressed and tired. It breaks the heart.” As he said that he used Craft to push the stack of marks across the desk.

”We are not allowed to accept bribes.” Thomas said, crossing his arms. Moe shook his head, making a pained expression.

”That’s not a bribe. That’s a thank you gift! If you had been shielding, I couldn’t have gotten into that over-clogged heart of yours. I’m much more of a man for blackmail than bribery. It’s cleaner, more honest. You’ll understand, of course, being so honest yourself.” Moe’s tone never changed from the pleasant, almost bubby one he had used this entire time. ”So this can go two ways, Ben my bud. You can take your stack of money and my gratitude, and on your way to somewhere sunny and warm you can drop this letter in the hands of Odelle Ackley, or you can keel over the next time your heart starts beating too fast. Your choice. Oh, but if you try telling anyone, of course, my spell will also activate. You understand that I couldn’t take my chances, right Benny Ben Ben? Oh, do calm down! I just told you, you’ll fall right on over if you stress too much! Seriously, you need a vacation! Oh, don’t look at me like that Ben, I’m doing you a favor! Seriously, some people just don’t know how to recognize a good thing when it’s dancing naked in front of them wearing nothing but a sparkling tiara. It’s just a letter. Get your priorities in life, man!”



Player Name: DragonGirl



Offline DragonGirl

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Re: Merihem Striker
« Reply #1 on: Oct 01, 17, 12:10:45 AM »
Any chance of a general roll?
Home is behind, the world ahead, And there are many paths to tread
Through shadows to the edge of night, Until the stars are all alight.
Then world behind and home ahead, We'll wander back to home and bed.







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Offline phinneas

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Re: Merihem Striker
« Reply #2 on: Oct 01, 17, 09:17:11 AM »
Weighed by Mother Night...

You've risen from the Darkness twice blessed with a cut White Birthright Jewel, and were gifted with an uncut Rose Jewel at your Offering.

&

Congratulations!

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Re: Merihem Striker
« Reply #3 on: Oct 15, 17, 06:51:40 PM »
Could I have 8 family roles please?
Home is behind, the world ahead, And there are many paths to tread
Through shadows to the edge of night, Until the stars are all alight.
Then world behind and home ahead, We'll wander back to home and bed.







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Re: Merihem Striker
« Reply #4 on: Oct 15, 17, 08:59:32 PM »
Hello, DragonGirl!
Five is the max number of Family Rolls allowed per character app. You can select as many others as you need (up to Descent Green for living family members, and up to Descent Red for deceased family members). These selected rolls just won't be eligible for adoption without the adopter acquiring their own rolled Jewels for them.

Here are your five!

1. Summer Sky - Purple Dusk
2. Tiger Eye - Purple Dusk
3. Summer Sky - Opal
4. Tiger Eye - Purple Dusk
5. Purple Dusk - Green
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Re: Merihem Striker
« Reply #5 on: Oct 24, 17, 11:35:21 PM »
preemptively keeping.
Home is behind, the world ahead, And there are many paths to tread
Through shadows to the edge of night, Until the stars are all alight.
Then world behind and home ahead, We'll wander back to home and bed.







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Re: Merihem Striker
« Reply #6 on: Nov 14, 17, 12:15:11 PM »

Registry Cleanup Notice

This character sheet has been inactive within the Keep's Registry for over 2 weeks. If you wish to keep this character sheet (including the Jewels rolled) you will need to reply to this thread within 2 weeks or else you will forfeit the character and the Jewels.
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Offline DragonGirl

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Re: Merihem Striker
« Reply #7 on: Nov 14, 17, 12:18:37 PM »
you posted this literally as I was getting him ready for review! SO we should be ready for review!!
Home is behind, the world ahead, And there are many paths to tread
Through shadows to the edge of night, Until the stars are all alight.
Then world behind and home ahead, We'll wander back to home and bed.







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Offline phinneas

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Re: Merihem Striker
« Reply #8 on: Nov 14, 17, 12:52:31 PM »
Added to the queue.
phinneas@bloodrites.net  •  Discord: phinn#0798  •  Writer Tracker


Offline Dash

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Re: Merihem Striker
« Reply #9 on: Nov 14, 17, 04:52:25 PM »

This application has been reviewed!

Check your private messages for feedback. When you have made the requested changes please reply to this post and let us know you are ready for the next round!

Email: Dash@Bloodrites.net   Discord: Dash#6159

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Offline DragonGirl

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Re: Merihem Striker
« Reply #10 on: Nov 14, 17, 09:49:49 PM »
Here we go again!
Home is behind, the world ahead, And there are many paths to tread
Through shadows to the edge of night, Until the stars are all alight.
Then world behind and home ahead, We'll wander back to home and bed.







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Offline Dash

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Re: Merihem Striker
« Reply #11 on: Nov 17, 17, 01:45:51 PM »
Email: Dash@Bloodrites.net   Discord: Dash#6159

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Offline Dash

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Re: Merihem Striker
« Reply #12 on: Dec 04, 18, 03:02:52 PM »
Per 2018 Thanksgiving Shop Adoptable Dark Ally:

Weighed by Mother Night...

You've risen from the Darkness twice blessed with an uncut Purple Dusk Birthright Jewel, and were gifted with an uncut Green Jewel at your Offering.

&

Congratulations!
Email: Dash@Bloodrites.net   Discord: Dash#6159

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