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Author Topic: Hadjara al-Izar  (Read 3815 times)

Description: Priestess. Rose to Blood Opal. Played by Lene.

Offline Hadjara al-Izar

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Hadjara al-Izar
« on: Sep 24, 15, 08:32:41 AM »
The Basics

Character Name: Hadjara al-Izar (given the name al-Izar after her freedom)
Nicknames: Hajar "abandoned" (as a cruel barb)
Age: 22 (AP 172)
Race: ½ Dena Nehelean, ½ Dhemlanese
Caste: Priestess
Birth Territory: Pruul, Terrielle
Home Territory: Pruul, Terrielle

Birthright Jewel: uncut Rose
Offering Jewel: uncut Blood Opal

Appearance


Play By: Danielle Campbell
Distinguishing Features:

In coloring, Hadjara takes after her Dena Nehelean mother, with only a darker shade of hair being the only visible attribute from her Dhemlenese father.  Her skin is pale due to lack exposure to anything but witch light since her birth.  Within the last year, she has begun to gain a little color though prolonged exposure to the harsh Pruulian sunlight causes her skin to burn quickly. 

It should also be noted that Hadjara's petite body, round face and undernourished body weight makes her appear younger than her actual age.

Personality



Personality:

Hadjara chose her own name, which gives testimony to her strength of will to live and survive the horrors of her birth.  She had been given the name Hajar, which meant "abandoned" but once she came to realize the cruel nature of her given name, she renamed herself Hadjara "stone".  She chose this name not only in reference not only to the mines that had been her womb, cradle and whole world, but to the stone inside herself, the stone that would never be broken by those around her.

As a worker, Hadjara never slacked, never showed the smallest hint of rebellion, after all how can one rebel against a life which is the only thing you know.  Certainly there had been whispers among the slaves, whispers of an open sky and a world far above the close womb of the mines, but Hadjara had never seen either and they were as real to her as the fairy stories told to children.  Hadjara believes in only what she can see, taste, touch and experience herself.  That said, she knows all too well that words are as trustworthy as the results they yield and in her experience that isn’t much at all.

Even among those like her, the children of the mines, she is wary.  The Geiba made no secret that those allowed to live were chosen by the Darkness; though for what or why, those secrets remained their own.  Despite this distinction, life in the mines was a life of survival and surviving their births was a gift, surviving the mines required that they must learn to be clever and careful.  Hadjara speaks softly and rarely; with those she does speak to she prefers to use speaking on the distaff.  It was a rare permission allowed to her in the mines, guards were unable to spy on your conversations and thoughts without exerting more energy they generally wanted to on a child.  When she does speak however, her voice is raw and unused; giving it a soft, husky contra-alto voice.


After being released from the comfortable enclosure of the mines, her new life in Little Citadel made her most uncomfortable.  Too much space, too much open air, too much room to move around her.  Hadjara had become more like a mine rat, curled up in corners by day and only venturing out in the night when the world would sleep and it would be safe to move.  She longs to leave this place, yet knows that the world outside the walls of the Citadel is so much larger.  Open space is her largest barrier.

Over the two years, she has become accustomed to her new life, taking more and more steps towards the talented young woman she was meant to be.  She has become more engaging with her mine born peers and as her agoraphobia has begun to vanish.   Her training was going well, or so she had been told by her tutors, and they felt that she would be better suited to training under another Priestess, to step up her apprenticeship and she looked forward to a change of atmosphere.


Likes:

  • Silence
    Never truly having known privacy or silence in her life, she enjoys the muted illusion of no sound that she finds in her various hideaways within the Little Citadel.  In the mines, there was always the sound of mining, or the scraping of carts carrying things, the sounds of people in the tunnels. 


  • Nima
    Hadjara admires the young queen.  Given the circumstances of their birth, the leadership that Nima has shown in stepping up as the leader of their group has helped Hadjara grow herself.    She still felt awkward around the young woman, a little awestruck in her presence as times, even though they came from the same backgrounds, she knew that Nima as Queen placed her at a higher level than she would ever be.


  • Reading
    Having never been allowed access to books, tutors or schooling of any kind before, Hadjara has found that she likes the strange script and the feel of this material-paper?- in her hands.  Often times she can be found hiding in a corner of the library, nose in a book her untried hand trying to copy the script.

    Dislikes:
  • Being fussed over
     Time had accustomed her to the males of the mineborn.  Unlike some of the others, she had been placed in a branch of the mines away from the rest of them and had only had the time at Little Citadel to really know them.  Their time in the mines had given them a bond that nothing could break through.  Hadjara found it annoying that the males decided it was their job to keep an eye on her, to the point of being bossy and over protective. The biggest culprit of this was Lucky.

  • Not being allowed to leave Little Citadel
    When they were first freed, Hadjara thought her life was finally going to be hers; instead she found herself a prisoner again, a different kind of prisoner in a gilded cage but still she wasn’t free to leave, to find herself and her new life.  While this was alright in the beginning when she was frightened and fearful of the new world; now that she had begun to overcome her own worries it was becoming more of an annoyance.

  • Fancy Food:
     Used to the bland and minimally substantial food of the mines, the plates that are now presented before her are far too rich and heavy.  The breads, once hard and grainy, are now sweet and soft.  Glazes, gravies and juices fill her small stomach before any food reaches it, and the smell of so much roasted meats, the tangy salt and smoke flavor makes her eyes water.  Even after two years, her diet remained fairly simple.


    Fears:
  • Her Destiny
    Ever since she first learned that her only reason for not being one of the many unborn children who were miscarried by the women of the mines was because of some Destiny foreseen by the Geiba and their Widows.  A Destiny that was never revealed to her, a Destiny that frightens her because it means that not only is her new freedom not really freedom, but she is being held to some unknown future that isn’t of her own choosing.

  • Leaving and Not Leaving
    As much as she longs to leave Little Citidel, she fears the outside world and the unknown.  The mines have been all she has known since her first breath and while she has been adopted into a Clan and given a place, there is a large, frightening world out there that both calls to her and haunts her dreams.  At the same time, as she has come out of her shell, she worries that the biggest obstacle to her freedom is herself.

  • Loud noises
    Where the mines were never quiet, they were never really loud or noisy.  Rock walls muted most of what would have been loud sounds, the crack of picks against the salt, the yells of guards and overseers, these things became muffled in the thick, heavy air or around corners and down corridors.  Here upside, where the air is open and clear, noises seem amplified, more chaotic and closer.  The mistaken drop of a serving tray her first night sent her to the floor with hands covering her ears.

    Craft Strengths:

    It should be noted that the following strengths and weaknesses are pre-Craft lessons.  Her strengths were intuitively reached “strengths”, not taught.   As she has only begun proper craft training, her true strengths and weaknesses have yet to be determined/discovered.  Her weaknesses are those she is beginning to discover as she goes through her lessons.

  • Communion with the Darkness
    Hadjara has always felt this deep connection with the darkness; not just the dingy, dim environment of the salt mines but the Darkness, the whispered other that connected all the Blood to each other, the deeper well of their being.  It was a place to escape to, when the thought of another day in the mines was so unbearable that she would rather end it all before facing another moment scratching for salt.

  • Communication craft
    In a world where your every word was watched and monitored, being able to speak to another without detection was a small blessing.

    Craft Weaknesses:
  • Jewel management
    Having no training in how to use her jewels, her control and hold on the flow of power is unpredictable and erratic.

  • Passing through objects
    Spelled chains and warding shields were always in place around the miners, so the chances of anyone slipping their “leashes” and making a run was unlikely.  It never occurred to Hadjara to even try to pass through cave walls or through the door to her room, until after her release she hadn’t even been aware that it was a skill she could learn.  Still, the fear of punishment lingers in her subconscious, blocking her from even a minor skill at this talent.


    Life Story

    Family:
    Mother: Katna Vesovic, Tiger Eye- broken Purple Dusk witch
    Father: Levin Agava, broken Rose- Opal Warlord Prince

    History:

    As with some who were sent to the salt mines of Pruul, not everyone enslaved were truly deserving of this cruel fate; some would say that it was Fate itself who wove the strands of the web that would unite those needed to fulfill the destiny of this child.

    Hadjara’s mother and father were victims of this cruel tapestry.  Her mother, a simple witch from Dena Nehele had been married before, to a cruel man who viewed her as nothing more than a vessel by which to satisfy his lusts legally.  He had already been banned from most reputable Red Moon houses and even the most desperate whore on the street wouldn’t take his coin.  That was when he had coin of course; he was a notoriously bad gambler.  It was this latter note that led to Katna being sold to a slaver to pay off her husbands’ gambling debts.  To excuse her absence, he told everyone that she had run away from the marriage, though not many believed him.  His reputation had preceded him.

    Levin was a proud Warlord Prince of Dhemlan, with a temper to match his ego. 
    He was also known for being unable to stand for any slight on his name or his family and could be enticed into a fistfight without much provocation.  It was one such provocation that led to the death of a Yellow jeweled Prince.  There is no law among the Blood for murder, but this Prince came with a court connected family who petitioned their Queen for permission to exact their vengeance with his blood.  The only reason Levin wasn’t killed outright was the man was only 5th circle and the son was known to have a habit of starting fights.  He was however; broken of both his jewels and sent to the salt mines to rot away the rest of his life.


    When Levin first entered into a Rut, he found himself fixated on this little Dena Nehelean witch.  The guards knew of this, and finding it amusing locked the witch in with him.  This was done primarily to protect them, as a Warlord Prince in rut was a dangerous thing, even a broken Warlord Prince.  For the next few days, the muffled sounds that echoed through the tunnels left many women in fear.  When Katna emerged from the cell, still alive it all but seemed a miracle.

    Levin was moved to another section of the mines, and Katna tried to forget about the horrid event.  Though the sex had been rough and constant, he had not truly hurt her outside of some bruising and tender love bites.  Love was the least of the emotions in that room and Katna was pleased to simply put the whole event behind her.  Unfortunately, a few weeks passed when she realized that this would not be possible.   When her moonblood ceased to flow for the second month, she knew she was pregnant.  If the Geiba were to find out, the babe would have surely be killed and she would be beaten for not reporting it to the overlords. 

    Try as she might, a growing belly on a woman with limited food and even more limited privacy were a hard thing to hide and it wasn’t long before the guards dragged her before the Widows.  She was tied down as the women sniffed her belly, rubbed her skin, spilt her blood to add to their webs.  She waited for the knife that never came.  Instead, after hushed whispers in the dark of the room, she was released with the instructions to receive an extra ration of water and food.

    For several months, Katna lived in a rare comfort (for someone in the mines).  If anyone even noticed her absences from the mines, no one would have asked any questions.  Despite the best efforts of the Healer, Katna succumbed to a fever shortly after the birth of her daughter.  The Healer was instructed to keep the newborn alive.  Her Destiny, the Widows said, was her reason to live.


    All her life, Hadjara was told of this Destiny, this future important role that she would live up to be a part of, her sole reason for being.  As a child, it was a source of dreams.  A life outside the caves, stepping out into the heat of the sun she had yet to even feel on her skin.  It was like a blanket of fire that warmed and not burned, a bright sphere in the sky that brought life.

    To the young girl, this was confusing.  If she dared mentioned her dreams as an innocent child, she was reprimanded.  One of the women in her branch, a woman so wizened and bent from her time in the mines carrying heavy loads and sleeping on hard floors, had been a Priestess in her younger days, a trainer of Priestesses as well.  She recognized in the young girl the scent of a Sister and took pity on the scared and confused child.  In secret, at night along the distaff thread, she offered Hadjara a small comfort as she whispered her stories of the Mother Night, of the depth and safety of the Darkness that was the source of all life.  It was she who gave a name to the feelings that Hadjara felt stirring in her heart.  It was this Priestess who explained to the child the meaning of her name, Hajara, the name she was called by the other slaves. Hajara was one who had been abandoned.  Hajara refused to accept this name and adopted her own, a name she held secret in her heart.  Hadjara, the child of stone, the girl who would not break.

    Her earliest memory was of the mines, the constant steady stream of work, in cycles and shifts was all she knew.  There was nothing to mark the passage of time, outside of the overseers’ calls and bells run to mark the hours.  Day and night were dictated by your section of the mine, and whether the torches were lit or extinguished for some modicum of shadow in which to sleep.  If there had been trouble, an attempt at rebellion, then those torches burned continuous and sleep was shallow and unfulfilling.

    One day, strange men appeared in the mine, men who said they came in the name of the Mother. She had shied away from these strangers, so dark and dangerous without any collars or guards to keep them from her.  She had made herself small within the crowd of women who were led up out into the burning sunshine, thankful that the bodies of those around her kept the burning light from her skin. 

    Mineborn, they called her as they saw her crouched in a corner of the room where they had been taken, and it seemed this word was more than a description and almost a title in itself.  She was moved to another part of the palace, along with several youngsters that she had seen previously in the mines but had never spoken with.  For the last year, they had all been under the watchful care of the Black Widows, a group of women who had been kind but so forcefully domineering in their trials to integrate her into this strange new world. 

    It had been difficult, so very difficult to not run for the comfort and familiarity of the mines if that was indeed possible.  There were so many strange males around her at all times, some who were oh so darker in their well of power and some who matched her own but had the benefit of proper training and years of experience wielding their Jewels.  Males were dangerous, that was the main lesson of the mines for a young girl.  Even collared males could be dangerous, there was more than one way for a male to harm a female and sometimes the guards didn’t pull the leash on those collars fast enough.  Hadjara had been lucky, having her Destiny seemed to have given her some protection from those dangers, but she had seen the other girls, the haunted looks, the dark shadows in their eyes and on their skin. 

    Here there were no collars at least no collars that could be seen.  The Widows taught her that males of the court were held by a leash of obedience and loyalty to their Queen, but that served little comfort to her.  She was no Queen, had no loyalties and no male served to protect her.  She only knew of one Queen, the Rose Queen Nima.  She didn’t understand this invisible leash, this call to the Queen.  She liked Nima; trusted her after Nima rallied to support them after they were taken to Little Citidel.  After the first time she had tried to run away (an attempt that ended too quickly after it began), Nima had visited her room.  Hadjara had expected a reprimand, instead she was surprised by the compassion and understanding the Rose Queen had shown her.  It had helped a little with the feeling that she was being held as a prisoner, and brought her closer to the young Queen.  It hadn’t stopped her however from continuing to make further ventures to leave.  Each attempt got her farther and farther away.

    Time had allowed her to be more accustomed to the males as well.  Nima trusted them and her growing relationship with the Queen had started to allow her more comfort around them.  There was Lucky, the Eyrian boy who was devoted to Nima.  He made no qualms about letting her know that her runaway escapades were a foolish endeavor and dangerous.  It was Lucky who had come after her on her last “attempt” a few months back.  Instead of a few guards, just the one Warlord Prince had tracked her down.  She had been stunned by his angry outburst as he grabbed her shoulders and told her in no uncertain terms that if she “ever pulled this crap again, he would skin her alive.”   That sort of treatment and threat would have once terrified her, but being around the Warlord Prince for the better part of a year had given her a bit of backbone.  She had hissed and swore at him, which only resulted in a sneer and her being hauled back to Little Citadel almost over his shoulder.  She hadn’t made another attempt to run, though the urge hadn’t completely been scared out of her either.  Their relationship had blurred into something of a “big bad brother vs annoying little sister” that was full of glares and yelling.  She kind of enjoyed it.  It tapped into a part of her spirit that had been buried deep within.  ((Discussed and OK'd by Kenna))

    Cutter was the oldest of the group, a Warlord known as Cutter.  He had appointed himself as escort for all the mineborn ladies, herself included.  A visually frightening man covered with scars, it had taken the better part of the year for Hadjara to tolerate his possessive attentions.  Surprisingly, she discovered his love of reading after finding him in the library one evening and their mutual enjoyment of the written word had formed a familial bond.


    She had done well with her craft lessons, or so her tutors had told her.  She had almost cried when her precious Rose was placed back in her calloused small hands, feeling the pull of desperate longing that was finally sated after having it taken from her those years ago.  It had healed a small part of her to have it back, like a part of her heart restored.

    She learned what it meant to be a Priestess and that the stories and lessons she HAD been taught in her early childhood hadn’t been false, only incomplete in terms of the depth of her responsibility to her caste.  It served to also tell her that her dreams and instinctual nature was correct and a part of what made her a Priestess and gave her the closer connection to the Darkness.

    She learned as well who the Mother was, not Mother Night but the flesh and blood Mother who had brought her out of the mines and into this all too bright and clean palace; who housed, clothed, and fed her.  Instructed the Black Widows to teach her and all the other mine born to help them adjust to this new world and life and who had made no other demands upon them until they were ready to step out into this new world.

    Over the last year in the Sun, as she often thought to herself as the time outside of the caves, Hadjara had continued to stretch herself and her mind in this new life.  She had stopped running away, and to be honest the urge to run had left her.   Once she realized that she did have liberty to go where she pleased in the city, some of her restlessness need to escape faded.

    She missed Lucky.  She didn't know what happened to him and no one was speaking about it.  No one spoke of him at all and she felt that for some reason, right now she wouldn't get any answers from anyone.  She missed his rough nature, he hadn't treated her like a delicate wilting flower, he had drawn the line and challenged her all the way up to it but never forced her.  In some ways, because he kept an eye out for her, it made running away worthwhile.  She supposed this was how it women were supposed to feel, protected and irritated by the men who protected them.  Lucky was the brother of her heart and she wanted to rage against the bright sunlight because she didn't know how to find him.





    Show Us What You've Got


    Writing Sample:

    ((It should be noted that I did ask either Reid or Viv about this writing sample and I was told it was ok, but because of my review, I added on the little bit at the end))

    Hadjara tossed her head, sweat itching her scalp as she opened her eyes to the near darkness of her sleeping spot.  It wasn't hotter than usual this night, but she just couldn't sleep.  Everything felt wrong, her skin, her hair, her teeth, her nails.  Her body felt uncomfortable as if it were the clothing she wore and she had the overwhelming desire to strip the flesh from her body and walk nude.

    Trying to shift her position without causing a sound from her ankle chains was near impossible without using a touch of craft to silent them and that would bring a guard running with a thick stick or worse.  So she lay there, trying to keep still and get comfortable in the same frozen effort.  It was near maddening and as she closed her eyes and tried to slow her racing heart, she dreaded the penalties she would have to suffer at the next shift for being slow and sluggish.  Her arm throbbed once in the spot that she knew bore the circular purple mark of a heavy handed swing from a guard that caught her yawning just this day. 

    As she concentrated on her heart, letting herself settle deep inside her own consciousness, she felt something shift inside and instead of being aware of the chamber around her, it felt as if she took some sort of step away from her body. Warmth flooded her face, dripping down over her arms and chest and she opened her eyes to see herself outside. 

    Fear gripped her chest, and she looked around in a panic for the inevitable guards rushing to beat her for running, but instead there was no cave, no mines.  She stood in the sweet darkness of the desert night, but warm instead of the typical cold that night held.  There was no moon, and yet there was some sort of light that shown down, a bluish grey that seemed to have no origin and left the landscape painted in twilight darkness.

    To her left was a small table, black in the strange semi-darkness of the night and it held three small round stones.  She couldn't see what they were, the night held them in shadow.  As she stretched out a hand to touch them, electricity coursed through her arm to her neck and she gasped, her body writhing in a sudden shock that was as painful as it was sensual and ecstatic.  A flush of confusion at the warmth that suddenly spread and settled in her belly was frightening and just as she felt the urge to pull her hand away, something deep inside her whispered that all was well, this was how it was to be.

    A usually cautious child, Hadjara was certainly one to trust the instinctual voice that had guided her safely this far in her life and she wrapped her small hand around one of the stones.

    A crack jolted her awake and she sat up to see the overseer standing over her, a slimy leer on his face as he raked his eyes up and down her small body, settling on her legs which were splayed and partially bare.  She looked away while he laughed.

    "Sleep is over, time to work."

    Hadjara counted slowly to ten as he moved to the next chamber to wake the rest of her work group and then looked down in her hand.  She hadn't even felt the pain of the cut but there was a small trickle of blood running between her fingertips.  Clutched so tightly in her tiny hand that it had cut skin, was a beautiful Rose jewel and it sang to her soul that it belonged to her.  It was short lived joy.  Before she could rise from her bed, a dark shadow covered her and the jewel was torn from her slick fingers.  One of the Geiba Widows, stared at the jewel with a glimmer of confusion before gliding off into the dark, leaving Hadjara with a sense of loss.


    Petitions (if any):  Reactivation

    Why did this character became inactive?  I had to take an extended LOA due to real life business and complications

    What will you do to prevent this character from becoming inactive again?  Never ever ever ever leave LOL- seriously, Hadj had an active plotline and still has things to do to fullfill previous plot.  She will take up her studies with Chani once reactivated and that will effect the growth of her character as well as Chani's, there will be interaction with Lucky when he returns (per PM discussion with Kenna) that will help his character through his recent trials.

    What are your plans for this character?  Hadjara has grown over the last year (of my absence), she has matured.  Her experience with watching Lucky being beaten and then his going missing has effected her, her relationship with the people around her, and more importantly her determination towards her studies in her Priestesshood.  There had been originally a plotline with Nima in regards to the Mineborn that I will continue to pursue.

    Number of previous Reactivations: For this character, none.  I think I have 1 out there for a previous character (also inactive due to my long LOA)

    Changes Made to Application for Reactivation Process (if any) :  I have adjusted her age, added a few comments about Lucky related to some threads that involved him and his dissapearence.


    Player Name: Lene





Offline Lene

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Re: Hadjara al-Izar
« Reply #1 on: Sep 24, 15, 08:27:54 PM »
Ready for Review :)







Offline Jamie

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Re: Hadjara al-Izar
« Reply #2 on: Sep 25, 15, 01:58:22 AM »
Acknowledging that this character has been added to the Review Queue.










Please contact me via Email - not PM! <3 | GMT Time Zone
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Offline phinneas

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Re: Hadjara al-Izar
« Reply #3 on: Sep 25, 15, 10:06:58 AM »
Lene, as this is a reactivation, please use the Reactivation Petition. :)
phinneas@bloodrites.net  •  Discord: phinn#0798  •  Writer Tracker


Offline Lene

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Re: Hadjara al-Izar
« Reply #4 on: Sep 25, 15, 10:16:09 AM »
Lene, as this is a reactivation, please use the Reactivation Petition. :)

Ah bugger!!!  *goes off to do*







Offline Hadjara al-Izar

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Re: Hadjara al-Izar
« Reply #5 on: Sep 25, 15, 10:22:28 AM »
Added on the reactivation petition stuff under Petition.





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Re: Hadjara al-Izar
« Reply #6 on: Sep 25, 15, 11:23:02 AM »
phinneas@bloodrites.net  •  Discord: phinn#0798  •  Writer Tracker


Offline Lene

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Re: Hadjara al-Izar
« Reply #7 on: Sep 25, 15, 11:54:14 AM »
YAY!!! Thank you!!1







Offline Hadjara al-Izar

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Re: Hadjara al-Izar
« Reply #8 on: Jan 19, 16, 02:26:46 PM »
Per my conversation with Dani, I am using the permissions granted here to return Hadjara to her originally rolled jewels Rose (her current Birthright) and Blood Opal (her originally rolled Descent on this sheet ). 

I understand that this removes the +10 power that she had received previously for choosing to reduce the BO to SS.  As she has not made her descent in game, I understand the rules allow this return to her original roll.  When she makes her descent in the near future, it will be to the Blood Opal.





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Re: Hadjara al-Izar
« Reply #9 on: Jan 19, 16, 02:55:24 PM »
Per my conversation with Dani, I am using the permissions granted here to return Hadjara to her originally rolled jewels Rose (her current Birthright) and Blood Opal (her originally rolled Descent on this sheet ). 

I understand that this removes the +10 power that she had received previously for choosing to reduce the BO to SS.  As she has not made her descent in game, I understand the rules allow this return to her original roll.  When she makes her descent in the near future, it will be to the Blood Opal.

When Hadjara completes her Offering she can receive her Blood Opal Descent. Please reply here again with the link to her Offering post and we can gift Hadjara with her appropriate descent.
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Contact me at: -email/gchat- dani@bloodrites.net -Discord- Dani#5222