You are here: Home --> Forum Home --> Recent posts by Lady Dark
Topic: Smuggler's Moon Q&A
Subject: OH, you silver tongued devil...!
Absolutely, O Captain, My Captain!
Now I am craving Ben & Jerry's Chunky Monkey ice cream...
Edit: Done!
Posted on 2011-09-12 at 16:10:26.
Edited on 2011-09-12 at 16:14:42 by Lady Dark
|
Topic: And it all went to Hell
Subject: awww!
Check out K12.com, it's a tuition-free online school. I don't know what state you're in, but they may be able to help 
Posted on 2011-09-12 at 16:08:23.
|
Topic: Smuggler's Moon Q&A
Subject: WOWZA!
Can't wait to read Eol's post! (*cough*finally*cough*)
Hope i didn't overstep in introducing Colin and the Scary Monkey Man.
Posted on 2011-09-12 at 15:42:48.
|
Topic: Tales from the Smuggler's Moon
Subject: More Lyri, because she's adorkable
The Rusty Hook, early afternoon of the 19th of Chad, 2005
morning gave way to later morning, and the aromas of fresh baked breads and fresh stew spread out into the alleys and avenues, mingling with the salt air and making those passing by, as well as those within the Rusty Hook, suffer salivating mouths and rumbling stomachs. Lyri herself was not immune, and made more than a few excuses to wander near the kitchen to bask in the wonderful aroma. Karl Wine's usual offering, seafood chowder, was pretty damn good she had to admit, especially when he was sober, but after a while, she wondered how much fish one had to eat before turning into one.
Another night, Lyri sighed inwardly, and reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. If only... No, not "if." I'll get out of Freeport soon. Maybe sooner than I know. Fortuna favor me, send me a good strong ship to crew for tonight. And so she prayed again, as every day and every night, and after asking for the Goddess of Luck to favor her once more, Lyri opened her eyes and scanned the room, which had begun to fill up nicely.
AS she wove her way around the tables, her step light, patrons here and there called out for ale, or wine, or stew and break. These she brought them on large trays, her feet secure in their destinations enough that, thankfully, she managed not to trip for quite some time. Once she did, however, she was lucky enough to be carrying a dray of empty tankards and bowls, and the familiar grunting laughter of Taro Goldkeep met her ears. It grated her nerves like the screeches of a tantruming child.
It wasn't that he as half-orc that kept him from finding a place of respect in her eyes, it was that he was honestly, a compete and total horses arse. No, that was unkind - she'd met far too many horses to slander them so, in any fashion. No, Taro was just... She didn't mind a little aggression in a male. She didn't even mind a little possessiveness in them. She just didn't like feeling that he wanted to own her, like she was some useless article or frilly accessory, or some toy for him to amuse himself with. If he was nicer to her, if he actually showed interest in her houghts, or feelings, or desires, Taro might have been enough to keep her in Freeport. As it was now, he was one of the biggest reasons she wanted out.
After righting herself, she picked up the fallen items and balanced them a little better on the tray. She had no words for Taro right now, and hoped to avoid him altogether for the remained of the evening, so full was the room becomming. Yet he stalked her, predatory, and followed her around the room. Frustrations burned scarlet patches of emotion high on her cheeks, eyes flashing with anger. With any luck, she figured, her natural talent for falling on sharp objects would rub off on him. However, she knew this to be folly and sighed, trying to maintain a cheery dispocition for the rest of the patrons, most of whom she actually liked.
Like Colin. When he shuffled into the tavern, Lyri caught sight of him immediately, with his short hair is the color of polished amber. With exaggerated friendliness, she hugged the plump man, and widened her smile.
"It is so good to see you again!" she exclaimed, her voice slightly elevated in pitch and volume. Taro would no doubt be foaming at the mouth - Lyri found she actually enjoyed that idea. She took a perverse glee in tormenting him as he had tormented her for so long.
Colin, if taken aback by the sudden increase in friendliness, took it in stride, the good man. He smiled back at her and followed as Lyri led him to a table. "Wine? Ale? The Boss got in some good cider t'other night, care to try? And the stew I made myself. Well, with some help. But it's good. And fresh bread," she offered, barely stopping for a breath.
Colin felt as though he's been taken up by a slender, striking cyclone. A beautiful force of nature that brought a wider smile to his face. Ah, if only she were human. Or a bit older, he regretted.
"Calm down, calm down," he laughed, settling into a seat. His eyes, droopy and reminiscent of wood, danced, her attitude infectious. "yes, my dear, I'd love t' have th' cider. And some o'that stew. But sit, surely there be a reason you're so happy to see a fat ol' bastard as me?"
Colin Ritts was charming, educated, and kind. That was the key - he was kind. In all the time she'd worked for Karl Wine at the Rusty Hook, Colin had come in just about every odd day, would sit and share news or gossip, but he'd never had an unkind thing to say. Never a cross word, and Lyri appreciated that.
Lyri patted his hand and canted her head to the side. "One day, when I find a ship willing to take me, I'm going to miss you, Mister Ritts," she replied, and winked.
Rather than return the gesture, or display any outward shows of humor, Colin's demeanor shifted quite suddenly. A shadow passed over his features for but a moment, leaving behind a somber face and earnest tone of voice. "When you find that ship, Lyriandel, you let me know. I'd have work for them, if they'd have it."
Lyri arched a delicate brow and sat across from him, taking his hand in hers. "Be smiles again, Mister Ritts, and tell me just what your troubles are. Because maybe I know a thing or two about making them better, and maybe I know a person looking to help..." The words trailed off as she tried to read his expression, and he could see in her eyes, those damnable bright green eyes that showed him more of her emotions than she realized, he saw in there excitement, intensity, and most importantly, honesty. She wasn't shying him on, she really did know someone... But how much to divulge?
Colin forced a smile that appeared to reassure the young and impetuous half-elf. "Lyri, Lyri. Bless you. But don' be lookin so serious. It's but some small chore, I'm just a bit off humor today. Must be my back, eh? Or," and he patted his plump midsection, "too long without a good meal?" Colin chuckled. Now be a love and fetch me some o that stew and cider, and some bread. And send for me when e'er that interested party comes in to port, will ye, love?"
Her response was only to nod and smile, though as she stood and made for the kitchens, her curiosity nearly choked her. Why had he gone so strange at the mention of a ship if it was only a silly errand he needed them for, she wondered, and nearly tripped again, this time over a damned... Good god, it was monkey. A monkey dressed as a ships captain, down to his little hat. While adorable, the man to who it obviously belonged was not so. Rather, he was greatly intimidating, and she excused herself, mumbling her appologies, and made her way a bit more carefully now to the kitchens.
Unfortunately, the large black man with the monkey was still there, standing in her path, and showed no interest in moving. In fact, he seemed only to show interest in Lyri, and she assumed it was because she's caused him some offense by tripping over his monkey. No doubt he'd want her flogged, or drawn and quartered... She shook away the ridiculousness of her thoughts and put on a smile. Lyri slowed as she neared him, uncertain and alarmed by the almost ritualisitc scarring along his body.
She didn't mean to do it. Really, she was trying to be careful. It just... he was so tall, and imposing, and his little monkey was so damned irritatingly distracting. It began to hop around, then scurried up the man's simple trousers, along his vest, to perch on his shoulder, where it began to dance. It was, undeniably, the most bizarre thing she had ever seen. Sure, there had been men with birds upon their shoulders before, some that talked, though no more than a few phrases meant to make young honest girls blush, but this... In her defense, she couldn't help it. She felt drawn closer, as if by an invisible thread, caught up in wondering exactly where the man had found this creature those tiny clothes. And she tripped, sending poor Colin's bowl, tankard of cider, and generous chunk of bread flying, into the lap and face of another patron.
The man eyed her without emotion, and the voice that issued forth was like thunder, velvet, and the ends of the earth all at once. "Barmaid," he spoke, "try not to spill mine when you bring it to me," he pointed towards the back, or so it felt, such was his presence. In truth, it was the slightest of nods of his head in the direction of the back booth in the corner. Enthralled, anxious, Lyri could only nod and retrieve the unfortunate crockery. It happened that she had to pass by him on her way back to the kichens, and he whispered as she passed, his voice a calm breath against her skin that sent a shiver along every inch of her.
"Send me the captain of a worthy vessel," he breathed, and she swallowed hard, quickened her step.
Leaning into the counter in the kitchen, she watched her hands, watched them tremble with emotions she was unfamiliar with. Fear? Is that what this is, she wondered. A terrible ache filled her chest, a tight sour mass filled her gut and sand seemed to fill her mouth, as it was suddenly dry and parched. Lyri released a breath unaware it had been held so long, and closed her eyes. Moments passed in this way, with her seeking calm within herself, and remaining still, till another look assured her the shaking had subsided significantly.
With a deep breath, she fit a tray with Colin's meal and one for the scaryman with the monkey, and took extra care to deliver Colin's first.
"Tough spill," he sympathized, and pat her hand before she could draw it away. "Don't let him get you down. Even the tall and formidable looking need to eat."
Lyri could only smile, Taro completely forgetten, thankfully. But at the corner table in the back, she set before him his meal and paused, uncertain. His eyes swallowed her whole. His presence set her blood ringing. He took her hand, and his touch was almost cool. "This," he murmured," should make us about even, yes?" And he closed her fingers around two sold objects, and she was dismissed. She retreated to the bar, clutching two lords tighly in her grasp.
And Lyri, sweet girl, was consumed with curiosity again. But where do they make clothes that small, was all she could think.
Posted on 2011-09-12 at 15:36:24.
Edited on 2011-09-12 at 17:34:37 by Lady Dark
|
Topic: Smuggler's Moon Q&A
Subject: writing it now
i've been making mad word-love to this post and when it's finished... BOOM baby! Instant awesome!
Posted on 2011-09-12 at 15:06:20.
|
Topic: Recruitment: Between the Sand And Sea
Subject: LOLZ
Okay, duly noted. So.... since the idea made it to about five chapters before running out of steam, i thought I would see if anyone's into it. If not, I have other ideas for a game to run.
Posted on 2011-09-12 at 06:13:20.
|
Topic: Recruitment: Between the Sand And Sea
Subject: unknown
Yes, but unless someone has crawled into my head and written it already, nobody would be familiar with it, really 
Posted on 2011-09-12 at 05:46:03.
|
Topic: Recruitment: Between the Sand And Sea
Subject: Recruitment: Between the Sand And Sea
So, I need to know if the following is of any interest to people.
Secreted away on an island not seen on any charts, or named on any maps, is a large, sprawling estate surrounded by a high stone wall, behind which lies a high brair hedge-wall. What lies within the estate would shock the modern world, for the inhabitants are monstrous, strange, and in some cases, mythical. And yet they live, each in their own set of rooms, hidden away from the world. Each creature different and unique, and every one of them once human.
Though no two of the same creature lives in the estate, they all arrived in a similar fashion: A human met Julian Parrish, made a wish, and became something new. A soldier wishing to live forever might find himself a living, breathing toy soldier, forever made of metal. An opera soprano wishing for an unforgettable voice may become suddenly a Banshee, whose wails freeze the blood and haunt evermore.
Julian Parrish is only the broker of these wishes, however, and on occaision works for the shadow, seldom seen Mr. LeRoux. And LeRoux has been twisting wishes for centuries, building his menagerie, with reasons changing every so often. At present he only seeks to collect, but the creatures are growing restless and want change. Meanwhile, a ship blown off course crashes ashore on the island...
DETAILS:
CHARACTERS: You would be...
• Creature - I would need to know who you were as a human, and what wish you would have made to Parrish, then I would PM you a list of options based on your wish.
• Servant - Hey, it's an estate. It's kind of big, and needs people to help it run. But -are you there to help, or do you have your own agenda?
• An unfortunate shipwreck survivor - Are you going to freak out upon discovering these beasts? OR are you open minded enough to want to look further? Or are you an enterprising opportunist with dreams of the big score, of selling this story to the highest bidder?
POSTING:
I would ask a minimum of one post a week. Feel free to post more, and interact, but bare minimum, once a week. I will update every Monday.
STARTING:
I would be looking to start up within a week of getting enough players. Ideally, three creatures or more, a servant, and at least two survivors.
Questions? Interest?
Posted on 2011-09-12 at 05:20:54.
|
Topic: Claiming the Crown -- A Freeform Adventure
Subject: So...
we're still going ahead with this, right?
Posted on 2011-09-12 at 03:55:43.
|
Topic: Webcomics
Subject: LICD FTW!
OMG! I love love love LICD!
Posted on 2011-09-11 at 12:24:32.
|
Topic: Tales from the Smuggler's Moon
Subject: Between time...
The Rusty Hook, mid-morning of the 19th of Chad, 2005
Part of the trouble with Lyri was that she didn't understand the meaning of disappointment. Oh, surely she knew the actual definition of the word, but when it came to practical application of the concept, it just didn't apply to her. Perhaps it was her youth, or her upbringing, or just luck. Whatever it was, Lyriandel Evermoon was rarely, if ever, disappointed, and so it did not seem out of the ordinary to her when the bard, Willow by name, had made a point to mention the possibility of things needing to be done. Lyri had told herself this very morning, as she did each previous one, that adventure would find her. And so, it seemed, it might still.
Her lips curving into a mischievous smile, Lyri swept the skulls into her palm and pocketed them,thinking that, if her boss could add to them, she'd be able to snag some decent meat for lunch. And maybe, if she could impress Willow, the bard would put in a good word with the captain and she could finally, blessedly, get the nine hells out of this infernal tavern and far, far away from Taro... Lost in her thoughts as she was, she made quick time clearing the rest of last night's mess from the floors and tables, and was glad to hear Wine's heavy footfalls as he trudged into sight. A brief entreaty for coin for the butcher, and she was off through the streets of Freeport, the smell of the ocean seeming to hook her by the nose and drag her along.
Taking the longest route possible to the butchers afforded her the opportunity to stare with longing at the ships in port, their lines, sails, rigging... she imagined herself standing on their decks, or in the crow's nest, eyes searching the distance for trouble or treasures. With a wistful sigh she set herself back to her task and arrived at the shop, where she haggled over the price of some gamy looking chickens, and waved to the several regulars who threw a greeting her way. Yet all in all, she was largely non-nondescript in the crowds, which she liked, even with her gaily colored ribbons lacing her boots and threaded into her hair. Here, she was just another wharfrat scurrying around a port. Here, she wasn't the odd little half-elf burdening some poor family.
She thought to make a stew, with Wine's help, to make the meat stretch, and used what few coins she had left to pick up some vegetables as well, and since Lyri could intelligently talk agriculture with him, he cut her a fairly generous deal. And again, she paused at the ships on her way back. But once at the Hook, her heart sank. Taro was there, and she forced herself to smile while she hurried back into the kitchens. Sadly, Taro followed, and remained at the door, no doubt glowering at anyone he could see.
With Wine's help, she was able to get a passable stew going, and finally turned herself to the task of finding some contacts for Willow, since she'd paid for it. She just wasn't going to ask Taro.
Posted on 2011-09-11 at 03:51:27.
Edited on 2011-09-11 at 04:16:16 by Lady Dark
|
Topic: Smuggler's Moon Q&A
Subject: absent? not really
I was meaning to post the hours between Lyri's chat with Willow and Willow's return, but we had a hectic day. if i can get to it tonight, i will, but definitely by tomorrow afternoon.
Posted on 2011-09-09 at 23:38:47.
|
Topic: "Fallout" game series, an RPG.
Subject: yes!
Count me in. I've run the Wastes of both 3 and New Vegas, and I would love to try this out. What kind of timeframe are you looking at, in terms of getting the system and info together?
Posted on 2011-09-08 at 16:37:32.
|
Topic: Smuggler's Moon Q&A
Subject: Wow
OMG I love it! I can't wait to see everyone!
Posted on 2011-09-07 at 17:03:04.
|
Topic: Smuggler's Moon Q&A
Subject: Collab FTW!
I'm working on a collab with Celeste! And it will be AWWWWWWWWWSOOOOOOME!
Posted on 2011-09-06 at 23:14:31.
|
Topic: Tiamat's Chat Games 3.5
Subject: Bump!
Bumping this because of the awesomeness involved here. Looking forward to another great session!
Posted on 2011-09-06 at 06:25:55.
|
Topic: Smuggler's Moon Q&A
Subject: +Dun dun dunnnnn.....
Yay! We has villian! Awesome post, Ye Olde!
Posted on 2011-09-06 at 02:21:28.
|
Topic: Smuggler's Moon Q&A
Subject: Woot!
Awesome! I love character art!
Posted on 2011-09-05 at 06:51:16.
|
Topic: Demonic Vending Machine
Subject: lolz
It spits out a narwhal.
I feed it back the narwhal...
Posted on 2011-09-04 at 07:50:15.
|
Topic: the magical forge of item creation
Subject: haha
Gristle, the baconsword. +10 everything. However extended use requires you to roll for damage (cholesterol)
Posted on 2011-09-04 at 07:47:52.
|
Topic: Good morning Red Dragon Inn! Or is it Evening? I am never really sure!
Subject: bleh *yawn* rawr
Is it really morning if you haven't slept yet?
Posted on 2011-09-04 at 07:42:49.
|
Topic: Looking for a game
Subject: pirates ftw!
Free form, moderated, awesome goodness. Check out Smuggler's Moon. NOW.
Posted on 2011-09-03 at 04:16:51.
|
Topic: Smuggler's Moon Q&A
Subject: wicked
Very win, you should sketch the others, too!
Posted on 2011-09-03 at 04:12:51.
|
Topic: Smuggler's Moon Q&A
Subject: Yay! Wordlove!
Thanks!
I just realized how much fun this is going to be, Lyri is so... so totally different than any other character I've crafted. And she's super amusing to play so far. If it was't for my little one waking up from her nap, i do believe it would have been even longer! 
Posted on 2011-09-02 at 17:03:56.
|
Topic: Tales from the Smuggler's Moon
Subject: The Rusty Hook, Freeport, 3 nights prior to the docking of Smuggler's Moon
As the evening wore on, the din within the main room steadily rose, building into an orchestral movement of raucous sailors, clanging tankards, and drunken song, interspersed with the random brawl over whose turn was next with one of the Rusty Hook’s various “ladies.” It had been no different last night, nor was it likely to change on the morrow, and as Lyriandel Evermoon set several fresh tankards of ale atop a wooden try, she wrinkled her nose following the long, drawn out sound of the man beside her breaking wind. A moment later, the noxious fumes caused her stomach to roil and her nose to wrinkle. She made a mental note to come back for this man, and hefted the tray over her shoulder, then began the weaving, quickstep dance around the patrons to get to the waiting party at the far side of the barroom.
Tonight’s guests all seemed more animated than usual, which she supposed was due largely to the full of the moon. Already, she’d broken up three fights, one of which she’d stopped unintentionally with her face, another by accidentally knocking both fighters unconscious after one of them thought grabbing her backside would be a humourous show of dominance. Feet sprawled into her path, and toasts we raised as ditties were shouted, warbled, or slurred, and it took a celestial amount of grace to remain on her toes during the rather short, but treacherous, trek from bar to table. Ducking swinging flagons and dodging sloshing tankards, Lyri thunked the tray down on the edge of the table and distributed the drinks.
Back home, she’d be just finishing the evening feeds of the livestock and prepping the morning feeds before drawing enough water from the well to heat for her bath. And then she’d be comfortably warm and clean, snuggled in beneath thick covers, with a candle and a book, to drift off while reading, only to waken in the morning at the crack of dawn to begin the new day’s chores. And the grove where she was raised was so sleepy, and quaint, and quiet - so quiet! - and, most of all, a place where nothing out of the ordinary ever occurred. It was nothing like Freeport, with it’s diverse and, quite frankly, LOUD population, andthe truth of the matter was simply this: Lyri loved it.
Growing up, all she’d ever wanted, much to her foster-family’s chagrin, was a life of adventure and excitement, searching for fortune and glory. “She get’s it from her parents,” Micarica would sigh, and though Lyri was too young when her parents were murdered to recall them as anything more than concepts, she loved Micarica and always felt a small pang of guilt whenever her foster mother say this, for the sound of Cari’s sadness was a deep one, and touched a place of shame inside of Lyri. There was a time Lyri had even tried not to be this way, headstrong and impetuous and practically lusting for adventure, because of how sad it made Micarica. But the call of the road, and later on, of the sea, became too much, and she suffered nightly bouts of guilt over herself. Caleb and Micarica had been so good to her, was this any way to repay them? And in the end, they had always known she was never cut of their cloth, that Lyri was never going to be the kind of girl content to marry, get fat with children, and manage a farm or a shop.
Lyri had now only the money she scraped together each night from the drunks in the tavern, few possessions, and never quite knew where her next meal was coming from, and she wouldn’t have traded it for anything. Except, perhaps, a spot on a nice big ship headed for parts unknown. Which was why, as she bandied small talk about with the patrons of this particular table, her sharp and luminous eyes, the color of new spring grass after a brutal winter, took in every detail; if they were pirates, and tipped well, she’d try to get on board with them.
“You best not be stealing away meh best girl,” warned a booming voice suddenly.
Her heart sank. Taro did this often, any time he saw her anywhere near someone exciting. Looking back, she flashed the large half-orc a dazzling smile, but her heart wanted nothing more than to bury her dagger into his right eye.
Taro Goldkeep laughed, a joyless sound that caused the party at the table to narrow their eyes and arch brows in confusiion and wariness. And, she supposed, they’d be right to. But it was Taro, for godssakes. If anything he was more likely to smash your ship than your face, and he was a regular, which meant regular money. It was just too bad Taro looked to Lyri as his own personal beerwench than a public servant. Oh yes, she mused silently, public servant. She rather liked the sound of that.
“Keep scaring offf the ships, Taro, and I’ll never get to make my fortune!” She hoped it sounded light and humourous, rather than as frustrated as she really felt.
Sadly, Lyri’s eyes gave her away, as they usually did. Yet her ire did nothing to dissuade the half-orc from letting these men know Lyriandel was not meant for their ship - or any. And it came to her, breaking over her as crisp and clear as a dawn wave breaking over the reef. If she was ever going to find a ship, she’d have to find one whose representatives were a hell of a lot meaner and tougher looking that Taro, otherwise he would run them off too, and she’d be stuck here all her days and eventually pressed into marrying some wharfrat with less brains than brawn, and raise little wharf brats who would run around with sticky hands and smear gunk all over some fine noble lady’s dresses, winding them all up in some stockade for the floggers and...
Lyri took a breath and sighed. The rapid cyclone of doom she had been contemplating vanished, replaced by a sense of hope and purpose. Yes, a tougher crew. Enough that Taro would have no choice but to give her up. Though, truth be told, she’d no wish to find out the lengths to which his possessiveness stretched. His gruff, thick voice broke her thoughts, and drew looks of amused wonder from the crew at the table.
“Come o’er here, meh pretty, sit on ol’ Taro’s knee and be sweetlike, fore I take my coin elsewhere and tells yer boss what a traitorous little harlot you be.”
By the gods, if she didn’t find a ship soon, she would just have to kill Taro herself.
The trouble was, she had never taken a life before. Not’s a persons; Lyriandel had, back home, taken out more than her share of rodents and larger predatory beasts looking to cull Caleb and Micarica’s supply of livestock. On the road with the adventurers she’d left with, she’d killed things then, too, but... just not people.
“You just sit and drink,” she ordered, moving away from him.
While she despised the way Taro jealously guarded her from anything remotely interesting or new, she didn’t really think she could kill him. After all, it was just Taro. He probably had a little sister somewhere like her, and thusly explained his complete lack of boudaries with her. Or, Lyri supposed as she moved about the tavern cleaning up spills and dumping cold water on passed out drunkards unable to hold their drink, maybe he was secretly lonely and sad and had so few people who would tolerate his rudeness.
Poor Taro, she considered, because it was her nature to look for the good in all people, regardless how unwashed, uncultured, or unlikeable. But, she asked herself, was he really unlikeable? Or was he just socially awkward? That had to be the case, she decided, and released a long, heavy sigh. She would, she resolved, have to be nicer to him while she was still in town. Maybe he’d be more inclined to stop scaring off potential ships if he were treated better.
To this end, once she’d lifted the face of a passed out sailor from his bowl of stew before he managed to drown himself, she returned to Taro’s side and rested an elbow on the bar, watching him a moment.
“Have the next one on me, ye scurvy barnacle, and don’t say I never was kind to ye.”
He watched her. Studied her. For a heartbeat or two Lyri actually worried he would try to devour her whole with just his eyes, so intently did he stare, then he grunted something close to gratitude, and finished his tankard.
This was, Lyri felt, progress.
Posted on 2011-09-02 at 16:37:37.
Edited on 2011-09-02 at 16:59:53 by Lady Dark
|
| |
View/Edit Your Profile | Staff List | Contact Us
Use of the RDINN forums or chatrooms constitutes agreement with our Terms of Service.You must enable cookies and javascript to use all features of this site.
|
|
What game do you own the 
Return to Charadun - Q&A
The Morphing Game
Return to Charadun - Recr
