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Seven children are destined to save Pruul and shake the traditions of the territory to their very core. In response, factions have broken the peace of a previously unified territory and violence has erupted across the dessert. It is a battle between the past and the future, the young and the old, and blood won’t stop seeping into the sand.
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Author Topic: Vashti al-Sahar  (Read 1171 times)

Description: Queen. Purple Dusk to Green. Played by Lene.

Offline Vashti al-Sahar

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Vashti al-Sahar
« on: May 31, 17, 10:19:36 PM »
The Basics

Character Name: Vashti  (born Dania Witoff)
Nicknames:
Age & Birthyear:  26 (AP 168)
Race:  short lived
Caste:  Queen
Birth Territory: Dena Nehele, T
Home Territory: Pruul, T
 
Birthright Jewel: cut Purple Dusk
Offering Jewel:  uncut Green
 
Role:  Future Queen of the al-Sahar (a Tribe of the al-Izar)
Faction:
 
Appearance

 
Play By: Shlomit Malka
Distinguishing Features:
She also has a very husky, deep voice that many men have described as smoky and alluring, a trait that she uses to influence and seduce men into her plans though she had no intention on following through with that seduction.   It’s the thrill of the chase that keeps them coming, the hope they will win her heart.   She is not one to raise her voice (unless it is at Lucky, he always gets her irritated), instead keeps her voice soft and low which is a byproduct of being trained to be silent and submissive, but has become a tool to quiet a noisy room.
 
Her sun tanned skin matches that of most native Pruulians, but her brown hair makes her stand out as obviously foreign-born and a lighter shade brunette that most.  She keeps that part of her aspect hidden under a head scarf and the hood of her burnoose as often as she can.
 
 
Personality

Personality:
 
Vashti is a young woman struggling with her sense of identity, her sense of belonging, her sense of need and her sense of freedom.  She has only ever lived with the knowledge of how someone else has defined her importance or worth and as such has to fight against long standing issues of who she is as an individual over what she can do for others.   She fights against instincts that call to her to bring others closer while caution and past experience wants her to push all potential threats far far away.
 
Vashti is learning to embrace her stubborn nature, to allow herself the option to refuse or deny the needs and wants of others without the fear of retribution or even the burden of guilt at her inability to please.  At the same time, she’s longing to grow and learn, to break free her bonds of ignorance due to years of being ill informed about her caste and her future.   Vashti feels the pull of the land, and the pull of other people and is trying to find her balance between her newfound independence and what it means to be a Queen in her own right.  Combined with this is her need for acceptance, both with herself and with others.  While she fears it, she also yearns to create the types of connections and links to others that are inherent to the Blood.  She recognizes as much as she feels like she wants to be isolated, it is not a practical means of survival in the long run.
 
Vashti is a fiery spirit, proud of her ability to break free of her enslavement and stubborn in making sure that if she has to give an inch, she only gives the inch she wants to give and no one else can make that choice.  She is not prone to rash decisions, giving everything careful consideration and examination as to what the consequences of every step might be in the future.  She admires the Mineborn, sees them as kindred spirits in life, for they too understand the difficulties that she faces in ways that many others cannot.   She might not have lived her lives buried under the ground, but she had been buried and kept out of sight and was only now coming to terms with her life in the light.
 
 
Likes:
  • Both genders- Vashti’s feelings about the opposite sex are confusing.  While she finds men attractive, and has found her gaze lingering more than once on a passing handsome face, men are still too tied into her thoughts of enslavement and control.  She had heard talk in some of the households of the women who found comfort with each other in more than companionship and since her escape, she had found comfort in the arms of a few young women who were willing to enlighten her on the sweetness and softness to be found with her own gender. 
  • Water - She doesn’t know it, but she has always been drawn to the water.  Unaware of her early history and love of the ocean, she spends as much time as she can going down to the oasis near Onn to swim and feel the coolness of the liquid flow around her.
  • Stepping on the toes of obstinate men:  Vashti might be new to understanding her role and place as a Queen in the role of this new life  but she was very aware of the way men tried to wrestle power.  She takes great pride in taking every opportunity to step on the toes of males who see her as small and weak.
Dislikes:
  • The collar around her neck - she learned quickly that besides being a symbol of her enslavement, it was the thing that kept others from knowing she was a Queen.  It only took one venture of removing it to teach her that a Queen on the streets attracted more attention than she wanted, so she wore it as a form of camouflage under her burnoose.
  • Violence - perhaps it was part of her nature to sooth aggression, perhaps it was because she saw far too many attacks and blows delivered during her life, but Vashti abhors fighting and violence.  Despite her need to stay hidden and safe, she finds herself involuntarily drawn towards those whose tempers  flared close to the killing edge.
  •   Sweets- it might seem strange, a woman who didn’t enjoy a sweet treat, but sweets were a luxury that she was never allowed growing up as a slave and her first taste of sugar was given to her as a bribe by her last master to try to win her heart.  The treat that she most enjoys is the bitter crisp taste of a fresh fruit.
Fears:
  • Being recaptured and enslaved again - It has been four years since she murdered her master and escaped and has never heard anything or seen anyone coming to seek her out.  Probably because they would have assumed that she would have long since left the Territory.
  • Never recovering a life that is her own - she doesn’t enjoy the life she has carved out for herself, there is nothing about scrounging and stealing that appeals to her on any level but it is all she can manage for the moment.  The thought that worries her the most is that she never finds a path for herself that allows her to escape her new form of slavery, reducing her to one of those poor souls she has seen curled in dark alley corners, old and crumpled.  Vashti worries that being a Queen in Pruul means that she will be used for her connection to the land or for her skill with quelling aggression.  After a lifetime of only being seen for what she can do and what she can offer, she worries that she will never be able to be seen for herself.  She feels lost between what she wants to be and what she thinks she will have to become.
  • Sandworms:  Most people in Pruul fear the massive devouring creatures of the desert, but as part of her captivity, the threat of being tied out in the desert to be eaten alive was a very real and lingering threat made by most of her owners to all of their slaves.  She was even witness to one such event, a young man who tried to help another slave escape was captured in the process and both he and his lover were made an example of for the rest of the slaves to learn from.  Vashti still has some lingering nightmares that haunt her at times.
     
    Craft Strengths:
  • Queen’s Touch - What she discovered later, her ability to sooth the tempers and aggression of males, sometimes just being in proximity but mostly by the lightest of touches.
  • Queen’s Gift - Vashti has always had a close connection to the land beneath her feet.  Even from her youngest days, she remembered laying out against the earth, feeling it hum beneath her little body, a soothing, rippling hum that always filled her with a sense of peace and contentment even though she didn’t understand it.  Sometimes, some places pulsed and called to her, and she would dig and dig until she found a little treasure.  Sometimes it was a sparkling stone, sometimes a pocket of earth rich in nutrients.
Craft Weaknesses:
  • Vanishing and Conjuring - Vashti’s ability to lift and call items to her hands is another skill left never developed.  She is practically powerless in her ability to move objects with craft, so much so that it is more of a disability than a weakness.  It has even left her unable to vanish objects most of the time, which leaves her with the need to carry very little but the bare essentials at the risk she would not be able to summon them when needed..
     
  • Witchfire - As well as the inability to vanish objects, Vashti has no talent for Witchfire at all.  It has been a great source of embarrassment to her, that the simplest of these craft skills is lacking in her.   She has made desperate attempts for many years to try and learn how to make the smallest flicker of light but remains horribly deficient.
     
    Life Story

    Family:
    Mother: Stefania Witoff, Blood Female (unknown)
    Father:  Viktor Kurst, Blood Male (deceased)
    Siblings: None
     
    History:
    Only child born of a fisherman and his wife on the northeastern coastline of Aechia in Dena Nehele.  Well, that’s not exactly true, Dania was actually their fifth child but all her brothers and one sister perished in their infancy.  When Stefania found herself pregnant again, she was both joyful and terrified that this child would perish early and young as well.
     
    Dania was born during a brilliantly violent summer storm, when the seas were too rough and swollen for her father to make his living.  She was born before her time, and came small and her parents fretted and feared that she wouldn’t survive until the morning.  However, Dania proved stronger than anyone assumed and in short time she had blossomed into a happy cheerful child who grew by leaps and bounds.    Of course, her Queen’s scent arriving after a few days was a complete surprise to her parents, who both came from families that had never produced more than an occasional Prince and certainly never had any record of a Queen in their lineage.
     
    Dania loved the ocean, learned to swim before she was even able to walk, and was on her father’s boat as soon as they thought she was old enough to handle some of the simpler tasks.  Her parents saved every spare coin with the intention of providing her with good schooling so that she might be able to gain some entry into a court for proper training that a Queen should have.   When she was six years old, her father took her on an overnight fishing expedition - a first- and she was thrilled to spend the night on the water under the vast darkness of the night sky.
     
    It was during that trip that her father’s fishing boat was attacked by slavers, and she was taken into slavery by a Raejaen captain who knew what a very pretty penny a young and trainable Queen might fetch at the market.  This is where her life shifted and changed.   No more ocean, no more happy thoughts or memories.  To Dania, those early years of her life are a dream that she clung to as she grew until it became nothing more than a fantasy of a life that was never really hers.
     
    A Queen has many redeeming qualities, but the scent of a Queen can attract too much attention from those who don’t want it known that they have a Queen collared in their keeping.  So Dania was fitted with specialized slave collar, woven with pricey Widow’s Webs to mask the scent of her caste.  In fact, Dania wasn’t even told that she was a Queen, just told that she had a special innate gift for sensing things in the land.   She was passed around, sold from owner to owner and as she grew, so did her skill at sensing more than just the land beneath her, but an innate talent to seek out something within the land.  She also had a natural skill with men, particularly Warlord Princes and her owners frequently used her to quell unrest and unease among their other slaves.   And with each owner, her name changed.  She might have been born Dania, but in the course of the next twelve years she had been given so many other names, all in an effort to keep her secret from those who might wish to take her for their own needs, that it wasn’t long before she didn’t even have her own sense of identity.  Each owner was told of the properties of the collar and how it might benefit them to continue keeping her and others oblivious to her true nature.
     
    When she was seventeen years old, she was sold to a Pruulian who was seeking to get in on the profiteering of the mining industry in Pruul but had been solely controlled by the Sabbah and the Geiba.  He paid a very pretty penny to acquire her to help him seek out a new area to mine for the precious gems that would make him a very wealthy man.  However, he was not a very intelligent man, and didn’t seem to be too keen on following the rules set down by her previous owner.   He saw himself as a benevolent owner, who thought that his charismatic nature and smooth talking business ways would win her obedience over in ways that no slave collar could.  As she reached her age of maturity, he even began to court her, offering her tokens of affection and gifts in an effort to win her heart.  His plan, that when she had received her Offering, he would marry her (which of course she would accept happily) and then he would have not only an asset financially but a lovely young bride on his arm which would only bolster his prestige and perhaps even earn him ties to one of the larger and more powerful Clans.  Perhaps even the Sabbah would offer him Clan ties for the gift that his young Queen could bring in discovering newer and richer veins to explore.
     
    Dania (now called Ehsan, to fit more to a Prullian name) was not the meek and cowering little girl-child any longer.  Years of living among slaves and servants, seeing what greed and power did to those weaker than themselves did and she vowed that she would escape as soon as she could, run far away from her captors and make a new name for herself, a new life.   She played the game, accepted the gifts, blushed and shied away from his advances and made it seem that his attentions flattered and pleased her.  All the while she used her skills to his advantage, seeking out new areas to dig and explore for the shiny bits of wealth that would advance his status and all the while she was careful to never reveal the best places, the areas that pulsed beneath her hands stronger and deeper.  She bought herself time, lessened the wealth that he accumulated as she won more and more favors from him.  He allowed her access to craft books, and she poured through them into the earliest hours of the morning, absorbing as much as she could and learning the craft skills that had only ever been rudimentary to her.  She learned what to call that feeling that purred through her as her hands pressed against the land, the calling that ripped up her arms.  Queen’s Gift, and her ability to quiet those who were upset, sooth the anger out of fellow slaves was called Queen’s Touch.  A Queen.  She was a Queen, of a caste that was meant to rule and be loved.
     
    Her tolerance for her owner bloomed into a rage, a loathing that transcended even hate.   He knew and he - like all the men before him - held her very sense of identity hidden even from her.  Still, she needed more strength and more power.  She needed to know his every weakness before she could break free, and she needed to know how to break his hold on her.   So she continued the charade, stomached her way through her Virgin Night which he insisted on performing himself and tried to persuade her was filled with romance and great skill.   It was the longest and most uncomfortable night, having to play into his need to feel virile and enticingly masculine.   It was either a credit to her acting or his complete belief in her adoration that he never suspected a thing. 
     
    The morning after her Offering, when she rose from the altar with her Green Jewel, she knew that it was the time to act.  He had declared that they would be married the following day, and she knew that once that occurred, she would never be free.  He was always careful to keep her well hidden from outside eyes, and the few times when he was forced to bring her out of his residence, she was wrapped in a burnoose with only her eyes and her hands visible under the layers of cloth.   He came bounding into her room, carrying a bottle of wine to celebrate their upcoming nuptials.   She tried to sedate him with her touch, but he became suspicious and when he surprised her by pushing her down on the bed, she pushed back - fought back for the first time.  The rejection turned his happy face red and flushed and she saw him touch a ring on his hand, a ring she had seen for years but never understood and felt the pain course down her body. 
     
    She begged, she cried, she apologized for her actions until he began to calm, pulling her into his arms and whispering understanding and forgiveness and when she felt his body relax, and his guard drop she reached for the knife at his belt and slashed at his throat.    She had seen men bleed before, but she had never been so close before and was surprised but the amount of liquid that pulsed from his neck.  Dania wasn’t expecting to be covered in the hot liquid and jumped back, watching as his heavy body fell twitching onto the floor.   Quickly, she ran into the shower, washing herself of his scent, his blood, all trace of him from her body, then returned into the room for clothes.  She paused only once, to reach down and pull the ring from his body, the ring that obviously controlled the collar around her neck.  If they came after her, she would not give them a tool to use against her.
     
     
    So she ran, she stole one of the horses in his stables and rode in the only direction she knew, south for Onn.  She had been there a few times with her Master, who she realized that she never even knew his name, any of their names.  For the first time in her life, she was free.  Free to make her life, make her way, free to even name herself.  When she arrived in Onn, she heard word that the Mines had been liberated by the Mother, Saiph al-Kaid and Onn was flush with people who like her, were embracing their new lives or trying to recover from years in the Mines and rediscover themselves.  She faded into the background, choosing to live on the streets instead of putting herself into a public view, taking the name Vashti for her own.  She ran with some street younglings, learned how to snag food from vendors, the best places to beg for scraps, the best marks to sneak a few stolen marks from the pockets of unsuspecting shoppers or a few coin to buy herself drink.  She was determined to never be indebted or bound to any person ever again and would find a way to provide for herself without doing so.
     
    She learned early on that the collar was not merely a tool of control but it held a useful secret.  It kept her caste, the scent that identified her as Queen hidden from the world.  After escaping from her owner, her first act was to remove the hateful thing from around her neck with the ring that commanded it, but it wasn’t too long before the first person noticed her and knew her for what she was.  She hated the idea of it, but continued to wear the collar around her neck if only to continue the useful magic contained within.  With the controlling ring in her keeping, it was unlocked and able to be removed by anyone so she was careful with lovers and anyone that was close enough to touch it never to let them handle it.

    Four years has passed since she arrived in Onn.   She had managed to secure for herself a reasonable living, poor but sustainable.  Dania had even managed to acquire some legitimate work to get her through the leaner times of petty crimes, working in the kitchens of some residences or running errands.  It gave her true pocket money, it gave her an honest face to hide behind and made her much less suspicious when pockets were found empty or merchants realized that some items had gone missing.  It was also safer, most of the places she would work had no problem with allowing her to sleep in the corner of some unused storage room.
     
    Things were going just fine for several years, until Lucky al-Izar pushed himself into her life and turned everything upside-down.  Vashti found herself cornered by a few street gang members who decided that she had grown soft and vulnerable now that she had pulled herself off the street and decided to make an example of her.  She might have been able to hold her own against two of them, wearing Yellow and Tiger Eye respectfully, but the leader of the group was a Warlord who wore a Blood Opal and while she might still hold the stronger descent, she lacked the physical training that he excelled in.
     
    Lucky made a quick example of the leader, sending the other two minions running for their lives.  Vasthi was somewhat relieved but also annoyed at the need to be rescued by anyone, let alone a pushy, annoying Warlord Prince who proceeded to yell at her about being out alone on the street.  She of course yelled back just as loudly and instead of angering him, he almost seemed amused at her spine.  Amused and based on the looks he was giving her, another very different reaction.  It didn’t take too long before he had her pressed up against a wall, or she pulled him against her - she didn’t really remember who started the dance, only that neither of them seemed to mind the rough frenzy of the moment.   At least until he pulled open her shirt and saw the collar around her neck, pulling back as if it burned him. 
     
    She didn’t have warning, didn’t even have a chance to speak before his hand lashed out and pulled the collar off her neck with a growl of fury and then… shock, horror, and all thoughts of lust and physical satisfaction was gone from his facade as he snarled at her, pulling her up by her arm and coldly asking her why the fuck a Queen was living on the streets of Onn?   She tried to pull free but his grip was iron as he pulled her clothing back in order, wrapped her burnoose quickly around her and threw her over his shoulder.  She kicked furiously at him, beat against his back and wings as she squealed in indignation at her treatment as he marched without ceremony across town.  No one even tried to stop him, parting nervously as they passed by and only gave her passing looks of pity before they hurried off.  Everyone knew Lucky al-Izar was a violent, aggressive Warlord Prince, untrained and untempered and no one wanted to try and stand in his way even if it seemed like he was abducting a young woman.   She supposed that the hot scent of angry Warlord Prince was the only thing that was masking her now undisguised Queen scent, and only later realized that had anyone scented her, there might have been bloodshed instead of panicked avoidance.
     
    Lucky dumped her rather unceremoniously at the feet of another man, just about the same age as Lucky but who seemed surprised, then amused and finally shocked as he too recognized her caste as Lucky growled at him to “explain to her why a Queen should NOT be living on the streets like a rat”.  Vashti, finally able to find her voice, argued that she had been JUST fine on the street and no one knew she was a Queen until HE had destroyed her collar and now just left her exposed and vulnerable.  True to his nature, he simply fixed her with a cold stare before turning and leaving her alone with the young Prince.
     
    Omid, she learned later, was much more civil than his brother, though he did agree with Lucky that the streets was no place for a young Queen with no males to protect her.  Vashti had heard of these males, and snorted her derision that she had done just fine without a flock of annoying men following her every move.  Omid, apparently as comfortable with his words as Lucky was with his fists, made her an offer.  Remain at their residence, and he would help instruct her in enough Protocol that he had access to for the remainder of the Festival; and at the end of it, she was free to go about her way if she chose.
     
    Vashti didn’t like it, but she had the feeling that if she tried to run, Lucky would hunt her down and drag her back and so she agreed, however reluctantly.   Since then she has remained rather quiet in her rooms, appearing only for meals - all the while settled into books, more books than she had ever seen in her life, studying Protocol and reading as much as she could to find a way to use this special technique to allow her to live her life free of constrictions and the need for males to “protect” her into submission.  During the next two weeks she met some of the other Mineborn, and other members of their immediate circle.  The Priestess girl, Hadjara, came to check in on her and make sure that Lucky hadn’t harmed her and the servant attached to the Mineborn brought her treats, both women gentle and kind in nature and Vashti found being around them was not so burdensome as being around their brother.  She even enjoyed their visits and was saddened to hear about the attacks on the young Priestess though relieved when she not only survived but recovered quickly.  ((Omid and Lucky interactions approved by Gavin and Kenna))
     
    The Festival was coming soon to a close and the time was coming for Vashti to be free finally.
     
     
     
    Show Us What You've Got

    Character in Play:
     
    Vashti stood in the shadows, hood pulled up over her head as she watched the coming and going of the busy market.  She loved this season, the time of the Spring Festival when so many people came pouring into Onn.  More people meant less chance to stand out, more people also meant more pockets and she found that if she was careful, she could stretch her “earnings” from the next two weeks until the Winter Festival without having to resort to too many other jobs that might draw attention to herself.    She had taken on a few odd jobs as well, washing dishes in a tavern and sweeping up in the late hours after all the patrons had left.  It felt better, to have rightfully earned the coin in her pocket than to have stolen it, and it served to keep her belly full during the leaner months when travel to and from Onn was much too hot and so the influx of pockets was a bare trickle.
     
    It didn’t hurt that the tavern owner’s daughter had developed a little crush on her, and was keen to save her a meat pie or a bowl of stew that wasn’t burnt or spoilt as some might have.  She had indulged the girl in some kisses and petting in the shadowy corners of the kitchens when her parents had gone to bed in return.  She saw no harm in the matter, whatever allowed for her to eat.   She learned that lesson very quickly, that she needed to eat a lot more since her Offering or else she began to look sickly and ugly.  No one would hire her then, assuming she was another street wretch, infected with some awful disease. 
     
    Stepping out in between a wave of passersby, she slid into the moving crowd easily enough, making her way around the stalls, pausing to look and browse as if she was a paying patron like any other woman there.  The key was NOT to look like you were trying to avoid getting caught.  Suspicious people drew more attention, she learned that on her first day when she spent an hour watching one stall and was caught trying to steal an apple.  After then, she learned to move and rotate - spend her leisure like she had seen others do before making her move, lightning quick when the vendor was called to the attention of another buyer.  The other lesson she learned was not to run.  She had coached herself to stay, perhaps make inquiries of her own about price or material before moving on, as if she had decided that she would ponder the purchase as she moved around the market.
     
    It was a tactic that had worked for her, and she was never greedy, always careful to only take what was absolutely necessary.  Most of the time it was a morsel to eat.   Vashti tried to spend her precious coin often enough so that she would be remembered as someone who purchased and not just someone who browsed.   When items were noticed missing, no one would question the girl who had bought a small bag of bread. 
     
    She nicked a small roll and purchased a small wedge of hard cheese, the bitter taste interesting and filling, and washed it down with a small juice as she retired out of the heat and sunlight in the shadow of a nearby building.   It was a good take, and she saw a few interesting booths and items that might be worth chancing a snatch in the days to come.   She was enjoying the warm crunch of the bread when she saw them.  It wasn’t hard to miss them, and she had chosen this vantage point to catch them when they came through, always at this time.  Poor things, standing out like blinding white targets as she moved through the crowd.   Mineborn, she had heard them called, young men and women who had been freed from the Mines and were supposed to be something important.   Vashti watched them quietly, chewing slowly as she studied them, studied the looks on their faces as they were herded along by some guards.   She wondered what sort of people they were, what they thought of the Festival, of Pruul, of being free.
     
    It would be nice to talk to someone who understood what it meant to be free for the first time.
     
     
     
    Petitions (if any):  None on this toon
     
    Wanted Ad Fulfillment (if any): 
    (Use below for character fulfilling a Wanted Ad, otherwise remove)
    Wanted Ad Link: Prull Wanted Ads
    Wanted Ad Sponsor: Kenna
     
    Player Name: Lene



Offline Lene

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Re: Vashti al-Izar
« Reply #1 on: May 31, 17, 10:20:27 PM »
Can I get a general random roll for this lovely little lady?







Offline phinneas

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Re: Vashti al-Izar
« Reply #2 on: May 31, 17, 10:48:09 PM »
Per your request for a General Random roll...

Weighed by Mother Night...

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

&

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


Offline Lene

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Re: Vashti al-Izar
« Reply #3 on: May 31, 17, 11:14:01 PM »
I'm going to purchase a Discard : http://www.bloodrites.net/points-scheme/(may)-points-transactions-10922/msg91682/#new


*leaves the sweet Baboo Roller sweets and baked goods and her special lasagna, all hand made*







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Re: Vashti al-Izar
« Reply #4 on: May 31, 17, 11:17:08 PM »
Weighed by Mother Night...

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

&

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


Offline Dash

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Re: Vashti al-Izar
« Reply #5 on: May 31, 17, 11:32:07 PM »
Email: Dash@Bloodrites.net   Discord: Dash#6159

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Re: Vashti
« Reply #6 on: Jun 02, 17, 03:52:29 PM »
Woops, forgot to tell ya'll she's ready for review!







Offline phinneas

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Re: Vashti
« Reply #7 on: Jun 03, 17, 10:03:21 AM »
This app has been added to the Review queue.

Because it is a wanted ad, though, her review will wait until the wanted ad sponsor has posted their approval.
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Offline Kenna

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Re: Vashti al-Sahar
« Reply #8 on: Jun 07, 17, 12:33:08 PM »
Want Ad approved by me.








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Re: Vashti al-Sahar
« Reply #9 on: Jun 08, 17, 08:43:27 AM »

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!

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Offline Gavin

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Re: Vashti al-Sahar
« Reply #10 on: Jun 08, 17, 09:24:14 AM »
Omid mentions ok by me.

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Re: Vashti al-Sahar
« Reply #11 on: Jun 08, 17, 11:56:18 AM »
Ready for re-review, changes made with underlines







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Re: Vashti al-Sahar
« Reply #12 on: Jun 09, 17, 09:21:28 AM »
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