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| Grey Knight; Book One of the Liber Oblivionicus | |
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| Topic Started: Feb 10 2009, 06:52 PM (686 Views) | |
| The Bean | Jun 24 2009, 04:45 PM Post #81 |
Forum Kommisar
  ![]](http://209.85.117.197/static/1/pip_r.png)
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And more. Because I really can't wait to get to the awesome bit. Part 24-Book hunting The Arcane University, Serrio reflected, was almost like a miniature version of the Imperial City itself-there was a large ring wall around it, it had its own guards and there was tall tower, built to imitate White Gold Tower, rising from the centre. In all honesty he didn't think it was terribly original, but put it down to the fact that they were all wizards there, so probably shouldn't be bothered with originality, and probably were more concerned about whether or not the walls could contain the blast of an experimental spell gone horribly wrong. Serrio headed through the massive gates, noting the braziers burning with purple flames, and into the main tower, scanning for anyone who might look like a Tar Meena. It was an argonian name, or a khajiit one, though Serrio had yet to see one of the cat people use magic in anger. Usually when they were angry, and their smugglers were, funnily enough, never too pleased to see him, they usually just tried to tear his face off with their claws. He saw an argonian reading through a thick volume, and hurried over to her. “Excuse me,” he said politely. “I was looking for a Tar Meena. It's a matter of great importance.” “You're speaking to her,” the argonian replied, looking up from her book. “What can I do for you?” “Thought you would be,” Serrio said. “I was told that you could look into a certain book for me.” “Which book would that be?” Tar Meena asked. Serrio pulled the slim red book from his pocket. “The commentaries on the Mythic Dawn,” Serrio replied, showing it to her. Tar Meena gave him a look that was fairly indecipherable to him, but he took a guess at it being one of bemusement. “Has Jauffre asked you to do this?” she asked. “He might have,” Serrio replied, trying to act cool. “Then again, he might not have.” “He did, didn't he?” “Oh fine, he did. But this is important, alright.” “Don't worry, Jauffre's asked me to do things like this for him before. I won't tell a soul. Anyway, onto the book.” Tar Meena picked up the slim volume and flicked through it with a critical eye. “Yes,” she said eventually. “This is the genuine thing. One of the first editions published, if I'm not mistaken.” “So is it worth much then?” Serrio asked. He always took care to see if there was anything that could supplement his rather modest salary as a captain. “To the right buyer, could be worth a few thousand septims,” Tar Meena replied, trying to ignore the fact that Serrio had suddenly acquired a wild grin and a slightly glazed look in his eyes. “But that's beside the point right now. There are four volumes, each one detailing the history of the Mythic Dawn and their beliefs. The first and second volumes are fairly common-we have a copy of the second in the library here in fact, but the third is extremely rare and I've yet to find a copy of the fourth volume.” “Anyone I could talk to about finding them?” Serrio asked. “You could try First Edition over in the Market District,” Tar Meena suggested. “Phintias, the shopkeeper there, is good at collecting rare books-I've got a few from him myself.” “I'll get going immediately then,” Serrio said. He rubbed his hands together as he left, thinking about how much he could sell his newly acquired book for. # First Edition, like the Merchant's Inn, was one of the Imperial City's more upmarket establishments. While the sign outside the door, which had always been an indicator of how posh the shopkeeper was to Serrio, was in good shape, it didn't have the same look of meticulous care about it than the one outside the Merchant's Inn had. The shop itself was empty, apart from a middle aged dark elf, presumably Phintias, at the counter, and it had the air of quiet fussiness about it. “Can I help you?” he asked, in a slightly sharp way. “I was looking for a volume of the commentaries on the Mythic Dawn,” Serrio replied. “Of course,” the elf replied. “Which volume was it you were looking for?” “I'm trying to collect the whole set,” Serrio said. “And I was looking for the third volume-I was told you had a knack for finding rare books.” Phintias frowned for a moment. “I do have a copy,” he said. “But unfortunately it has been reserved for another customer already.” “That is a problem,” Serrio said. “But is there a chance that perhaps we could come to an agreement?” “I can see that you do wish to get a copy of the book,” Phintias replied. “But I'm afraid that if I backed out of this agreement it would be extremely damaging for my reputation.” “Are you entirely sure?” Serrio asked, pulling out his copy of the first volume. “I've been told that this is one of the very first editions of the Commentaries, and is extremely valuable.” Phintias took the book and examined it with the critical eye of an expert. “Whoever told you that was right,” he said eventually. “This is worth an awful lot.” “Then perhaps we can arrange a trade?” Serrio asked. “I give you this extremely valuable book in exchange for an extremely rare one.” “I thought you were trying to get the entire set though?” Phintias suddenly asked. “The first volume is common enough,” Serrio replied, thinking on his feet. “I'm sure I can find another one without too much trouble. But right here, and right now, with Volume Three so close, I'm willing to exchange this for one.” Phintias looked thoughtful for a moment, but then shook his head. “I'm afraid I can't,” he said. “But if you wish to speak to Gwinas-he's the young man buying the book-then he'll be coming in just a minute. Perhaps you can negotiate something with him.” Serrio elected to wait and browsed around the shop, taking a look at some of the books there, before finally just sitting down on one of the chairs in the room. Before long, a wood elf, his blonde hair styled in one of those ridiculous quiffs that seemed so popular amongst them, arrived. “I'm here to collect the third volume of the Commentaries,” he said politely to Phintias, after the initial pleasantries had been exchanged. “Of course,” Phitias said, reaching behind him on the shelf to pass the wood elf a book. The wood elf handed over a bag of gold, and then left after Phintias wished him a nice day. Serrio got up from seat, and followed him for a short while, before deciding to just talk to him and persuade him to hand the book over. “What do you want?” the elf asked warily. “I was interested in the book you got in First Edition,” Serrio said. “I've been looking for a copy myself for quite some time and...” “Well you can't have it,” the wood elf snapped rather petulantly. “You people all think you can bully me, well you know what? You can't!” “Calm down, calm down,” Serrio said. “I'm not here to bully you. I'm here to try and get a bloody book.” “Well you can't have it,” the bosmer said. “You won't stop me joining the Mythic Dawn!” “They killed the Emperor, you little idiot!” Serrio, who had had enough of the wood elf's childishness, suddenly snapped. The elf looked aghast, and took a step back. “Is that true?” he asked. “It's true,” Serrio said, nodding. “And they were responsible for what happened at Kvatch.” The elf pulled the book and a piece of parchment out of his pocket and stuffed them into Serrio's hand. “Take it,” he said. “I want nothing more to do with them, ever again. And the note was from someone who called himself my sponsor-he told me to meet him to get the fourth book.” “Um, thank you,” Serrio said, as the wood elf hurried off. He read the note in hands, and decided it was time to report to Baurus. Edited by The Bean, Jun 24 2009, 04:45 PM.
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| IAMDIZZYONFANTA | Jul 1 2009, 02:17 PM Post #82 |
Bearer of the HOJ
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Yeah, this follows the exact same lines as the same part of the MQ. Mind you, there isn't really any other way of advancing beyond this point. Hey, this Congrats! (\_/) (*-*) (')-(') Yeah... I just made that up. 
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| The Bean | Jul 2 2009, 05:43 PM Post #83 |
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Forum Kommisar
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*Gasps* A golden bunny? That's everything I've ever dreamed of! *Dances away in happiness* *Dances back to collect bunny* |
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| The Bean | Jul 12 2009, 05:11 AM Post #84 |
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And more for you lovely lot! Part 25-Mythic Dawn Baurus was waiting for him back at the Merchant's Inn. Judging by the wary looks the innkeeper was giving him, he knew about the dead body in his cellar, and was also aware that Baurus was a member of the Blades. “Any luck?” he asked Serrio as he sat down next to him. “Yep,” Serrio replied. “I got the third book, and take a look at this.” He handed Baurus the note, who read it over a few times. “The Elven Garden district's sewers huh?” he asked. “I know just the place it says. And the meeting's soon. We'd best get going if we want to get there on time.” They hurried through the city as it began to get dark, round the back of a house and to a sewer grate. Baurus lifted it up, trying to ignore the smell, and hurried down the ladder, closely followed by Serrio. The trip through the sewers was fairly uneventful, only punctuated by a run in with some goblins and a mudcrab. By the time they had arrived at a door that marked their meeting place, both of them were still hot, sweaty and tired-they had trapped heat of fermenting sewage to thank for that. “This is it,” Baurus said, wiping a film of sweat from his brow. “I've always wondered what the table in here was for.” “So what's the plan?” Serrio asked. “I'll head in there to try and get the book,” Baurus replied. “There's to the left door at the top, which leads to a walkway above the room. Get up there and watch the meeting, and stay as backup. If things go wrong, we'll just have to kill this sponsor and take the book.” “Better than nothing,” Serrio said. “Good luck.” Serrio headed through the door and up the stairs, lurking in the shadows of the stairwell. Below him, Baurus entered and sat at the table. From a side door, an altmer, tall and contemptuous, walked in, and gave Baurus a sneering look. “You will remain silent,” the elf said. “I will explain what it means to join our organisation and then you will tell me if you still wish to join it. Do you understand?” Baurus nodded obediently. “Good,” the elf said. He began to drone on about Mehrunes Dagon or some rubbish like that, and Serrio stopped listening as he saw a pair of guards, wearing that strange armour all the Mythic Dawn wore, walk onto the walkway. Serrio shrank into the shadows, reaching towards his sword and dagger. One of the guards noticed something in the shadows, and drawing his weapon, began to stalk towards Serrio. Baurus pretended not to notice, but let his hand rest on the hilt of his Katana. The guard reached Serrio's position, but before he could react, Serrio lunged forward, sword and dagger drawn, and plunged them into the man's chest, sending him keeling back, choking on his own blood. “I told you to come alone!” the outraged elf yelled, but he was stopped speaking by Baurus kicking the table and sending it flying into him. The redguard sprang to his feet to dodge the blast of lightning the prone elf sent at him, then charged, slashing his katana across the altmer's chest. The second guard had charged forwards into Serrio, and for a minute they duelled, mace against sword, before Serrio smashed the pommel of his sword into the side of his enemy's head and causing him to topple off the bridge. He landed with a painful crunch, his neck at an unnatural angle. “You alright?” Serrio asked Baurus as he wiped his sword clean of blood. “I'm fine,” Baurus replied. He slipped his hand into the pockets of the elf's robe, and triumphantly pulled out a slim red book. “Commentaries on the Mythic Dawn, Volume Four,” he announced. “We've got it.” He handed it over to Serrio. “Get it back to Tar Meena at the university,” he said. “She'll be pleased to see this. # “Tar Meena?” Serrio called out quietly as he entered. “Ah, Serrio,” Tar Meena said as she saw him. She at a desk in the corner, and the first two volumes of the Commentaries open, and was reading through them. “Did you have any luck getting the third volume?” “I got three and four!” Serrio announced triumphantly. Tar Meena raised the horny ridges she had instead of eyebrows in surprise. “You got the fourth volume?” she asked. “Let me see.” Serrio handed over the slim books, which Tar Meena flicked through with an air of scholarly excitement. “Give me a few days to study the books and I ought to have found out more about the Mythic Dawn,” she said, snout already buried in the third volume. “I think they have a code in them about where they are, as a kind of test for those wanting to join. If I'm right, then I ought to be able to point you in the direction of their headquarters.” Serrio nodded and left her to her work, and off went to get a celebratory drink. # A few days later, and Serrio was back at the Arcane University again, look for Tar Meena. He found her at the same desk, looking tired but triumphant. “I cracked the code,” she announced proudly as Serrio approached. “It was simple really-all the first letters of each paragraph added up to say 'Green Emperor Way, where tower touches midday sun.' I worked it out-it's at midday, by the tomb of Prince Camaril.” “How clever,” Serrio murmured, before suddenly realising something. “It's midday now! I'd best go.” He dashed out of the building with a yell of “Thanks again!” and to the Green Emperor's Way. His mad sprint bought him to Green Emperor's Way just in time. He looked for the grave and quickly found it-a large mausoleum with Prince Camarail inscribed in large letters on it. He walked around it a few times, but couldn't find anything on it that could indicate the location of a Mythic Dawn base. Then, when the sun reached its zenith, glowing red lines formed on one side of the tomb, away from the main path that most people would take. The lines formed a map of the eastern half of Cyrodiil. A large outline of a town formed, with golden letters proclaiming it as Cheyindal, while to the north a dot formed, marked out as Lake Arrius Caverns. So that was the place he needed to go, Serrio mused. Well, Alicarius had sent him to find the cultists. Now he had done so, Alicarius could damn well clear them out of there himself. And good luck to him. |
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| Dark Slinkie | Jul 13 2009, 09:38 AM Post #85 |
Anubis, Lord of the council
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Very nice, as always The big 25th chapter 
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Bloodbath, The Ultimate Battle For Survival The Rp of Thraksheir Thraksheir, land of magic | |
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| The Bean | Jul 26 2009, 06:33 AM Post #86 |
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And the next part, now my laptop is back in commission. Things really heat up now... Part 26-War Two days later Serrio pushed the, curiously unmanned, gates of Chorrol open, to find the main street deserted, except for a pigeon industriously pecking at the remnants of a loaf of bread. His forehead creased in a frown of concern, he headed towards the castle, then stopped as he heard the sound of cheering and yelling coming from the north of the castle. He hurried over to see what was going on, to be greeted by the most bizarre sight imaginable. Two towers, fairly ramshackle affairs built of planks, had been constructed on the town's common area, and what seemed to be the entire garrison was fighting over them. Half of them seemed to be wearing blue sashes, the other wearing red ones, and they met in the middle, shields locked together in a wall. Both of them were shoving against eachother, the men's weapon's lashing out over the top. Around them, the rest of Chorrol's citizens were gathered, cheering them on. One particularly enterprising Nord had even set up a stall to take bets. For a moment, it seemed that the stalemate would last for a long while, before a trio of men from the red group pushed round from the side, knocking their opponents aside before the entire blue wall crumbled as the men fell back, gaining a cheer from the crowd. Forced back, the blue team retreated to the base of their tower, shields raised. The red team surrounded them, pushing them back to the base of the blue's tower, before they withdrew up the ladder, refusing to give ground. A group of five men bravely elected to stay at the base of the ladder to allow their comrades to get away. They held the attackers back long enough for them to get up the ladder, before they were overwhelmed and pushed out. “Alright, enough!” Alicarius yelled, holding up his hands, causing the legionnaires to halt. There were some cheers and groans from the crowd as they collected or parted with bets. “Good work, everyone,” Alicarius said, as the legionnaires around the tower dispersed to grab a drink. “Well done to Orras' men.” The five men who had held the base of the tower gave a cheer. “What's this all about?” Serrio asked, as he hurried over to Alicarius. “Serrio,” Alicarius said, smiling. “You arrived sooner that I thought.” “I mightn't have arrived at all,” Serrio said accusingly. “Those cultists are a nasty bunch, and no mistake. But you haven't said what this is supposed to be doing.” “Training,” Alicarius said. “For large scale combat-they've gotten used to fighting just bandits. I need them fighting well trained soldiers, so why not legionnaires?” “Why though?” Serrio asked. “Read this,” Alicarius said, handing Serrio a copy of the Black Horse Courier. Skyrim invades Morrowind! the headline exclaimed. “Ah,” Serrio said slowly. “This doesn't look good, does it? What happened?” Alicarius nodded. “They attacked from Rifton,” Alicarius said. “They crossed the Skyrim mountains in a few days and have already taken Blacklight.” “So you're worried about an attack on Chorrol?” Serrio asked. “After Bruma, Chorrol's the closest to Skryim, and I don't think Jsashe is going to stop there,” Alicarius said. He had heard a few things about the witch that ruled the town of Rifton, and non of them were good-she was ruthless, cruel and cunning, and a very dangerous foe indeed. “Bruma's been taken?” Serrio asked. “Taken? Pah!” Alicarius spat, causing the grass his saliva hit to bubble and hiss. “The countess just handed over the city as quick as you like. Filthy traitor.” “So what are we going to do now?” Serrio asked. “Jsashe isn't going to stop until she has the entirety of Cyrodiil in her hands,” Alicarius said. “She conquered Skyrim while we were distracted by the Emperor's assassination, and now Ocato's gone she's taken Bruma. She's proclaimed herself prophetess of Lorkhan and has the entire nation behind her. It's as I feared-Tamriel's already falling apart.” “What about Cloud Ruler Temple?” Serrio asked suddenly. “I received word from Jauffre,” Alicarius said. “They negotiated a truce with the Skyrim forces. Still, if the army want to take it then it's their funeral. I've seen that place, and believe me, it's impenetrable.” “What are we going to do though?” Serrio asked. “Us?” Alicarius asked. “We're going to war.” # Chorrol's army was on the move. From fresh faced recruits to grizzled veterans, soldiers marched from the city's gates, a full three hundred of them. Only a skeleton guard was left behind, the town's garrison otherwise leaving in it's entirety. The odds were stacked against them, and badly so. The Nord army numbered in the thousands, the entire nation's soldiery fighting on the two fronts of Morrowind and Northern Cyrodiil. And Skyrim's soldiery was practically the entire nation. There seemed no way that a few hundred soldiers from Chorrol could hope to halt the rampaging monster that was the Nord war machine. But Alicarius had a plan, and even though he said so himself, a damn good one at that. He did not lead the column, leaving that to Serrio, but instead occupied himself in supervising the wagons that were following it, particularly the covered carts. He needed them intact. For the past week, booms and blasts had echoed around Chorrol as Alicarius tested his new devices and trained the soldiers in their usage. With luck, they would turn the tide of battle, and could well revolutionise the way wars were fought throughout Nirn. Karros came up next to him, saluting. “Everything is in order sir,” he said. “Their packed away safely-I saw to it myself.” “Good,” Alicarius said. Karros turned to leave, before Alicarius stopped him with a question. “Karros, what do you think of these?” “With all due respect, I don't like them sir,” the veteran replied. “They're noisy, they're heavy and they hurt like hell if you hold them wrong and fire. Give me a bow any day.” “True,” Alicarius said. “But think of the damage they'll cause. Believe me, the Nord army will crumple when they see this.” “And if they don't?” Karros asked. “What about a plan b?” “I'll be the plan b,” Alicarius said. “There are thousands of them,” Karros said. “Even you can't...” Alicarius raised his hand. “I killed a deadrahost with no armour and only my halberd,” he said. “I don't mean to boast, but I'm fairly sure I can handle some nords.” “Thousands of them though?” Karros asked. “No offense sir, but you must be mad to think you can.” Alicarius shrugged. “If that's the case, then I'll just have to be a little mad,” he said. |
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| IAMDIZZYONFANTA | Jul 31 2009, 11:26 AM Post #87 |
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Bearer of the HOJ
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Is niiiiice! I wanna see Alicaurus go nuts on a thousand nords.... |
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| The Bean | Aug 4 2009, 09:18 AM Post #88 |
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Oh, believe me Dizzy, he doesn't just go nuts on some nords... Part 27-Blood and ice The army marched for a week. Normally Alicarius could have made the journey over a few days, but they had to stick to the longer route on the roads and moving large numbers of people quickly was never going to be easy. He had chosen their battleground, making it clear to the Nord army that they intended to challenge them. It was a a hill, a few miles south of Bruma and on a hill leading down to a valley, forcing the army of Nord warriors to fight uphill, and on a snow covered, icy slope to boot. Alicarius had already sent a detachment of foresters, led by Karros, around the wooded edges of the valley to halt any flanking forces, and should the opportunity arise, to do a little flanking themselves. The army had to wait only two days for the Nord force, responding to the threat after celebrating their annexation of Bruma, made it's way towards them. Alicarius had had the men stay in positions through the entire time they were there, ready to get to position quickly should the Nord army arrive. There were one hell of a lot of them, Alicarius considered as he saw the thousand strong host of Jsashe, Prophetess of Lorkhan. He could see the woman at the forefront of the army with the aid of his helmet's lenses. She stood on a bone white chariot, drawn by a pair of ice white horses. A shock of graying red hair flowed down her back, and Alicarius could see the enchantments glittering on her spear even from his position on the other side of the valley. So this was the witch that was causing Cyroddil so much trouble, Alicarius thought. He could take her. He stepped forwards from the assembled ranks of Chorrol's army, and turned to face them. “Men!” he called. “Today is history. Today is the day that we, but three hundred men, stand against a horde intent on the destruction of our land. They wish to enslave our wives and our children, to squash the world under their heel and rule it. And I say that they shall not! Some of you may think that by being here, by fighting under the banner of Chorrol, you are betraying you home nation. I tell you now, that you are not. It does not matter whether you are man, mer, orc or beast man. You are soldiers, and all soldiers are one people, no matter who they fight for and where they come from. We are the men of Chorrol, and we will be victorious!” He raised his halberd in the air, inciting a roar from Chorrol's lines. “All I ask of you is that you hold the line,” Alicarius said. Whatever happens, we will hold the line. We have with us weapons of unparalleled power, and with them, we will hold the line. With them, we will have victory. With them, we will show all potential tyrants and oppressors that we will not stand idle while they live. The Empire will rise again, and it will bring with it an age of peace and prosperity. We are needed here today to bring this age with us. Now, FIRE!” He dropped to the ground as the soldiers behind him raised their weapons. They were, to but simply, muskets, but designed from the top down, as opposed to the bottom up. The projectile, a bullet shaped lump of solid lead, was loaded into a simple chamber within the gun. Instead of gunpowder, pulling the trigger sparked a localised blast of channelled magical fire within the chamber, stopping the fatal misfires that plagued the gunpowder models and sending the bullet on its way far faster. And as there was no shell being ejected, the chance of a misfire was drastically reduced. With training, a soldier could fire off two bullets within five seconds of eachother. A wall of white hot lead flew over Alicairus, smashing into the Nord lines, and even, Alicarius noted with some satisfaction, damaging Jsashe's chariot. She hadn't finished her speech, and though some unwritten law of warfare dictated that both leaders had to, Alicarius hadn't become a captain of the Grey Knights by playing fair-after all, daemons never did. Dozens of men fell, screaming as the bullets pulped their innards and sprayed gouts of blood into the air. Jsashe, most likely protected by magical shields, scrambled to her feet and began to yell furious orders to her captains. Within moments, the Nords began to charge. Another volley blasted from the Imperial lines, then another, more and more men falling, but the Nords kept advancing. It was their infamous battle rage, one that had turned the tide of battle in their favour many, many times. His initial plan of breaking the Nord army through using the muskets had failed. But like any genius, Alicarius had a plan b. He grabbed something from his belt, a long, thin tube, and pulled the string at the end free. The fire spell contained within blasted itself free in a phosphorous white glare, rising like a second sun. That was Karros' signal. As one, soldiers wearing lightly armoured leather suits, coated in greenery, rose from the bushes and let forth a volley of fire from their own muskets. But behind them, a massive trebuchet was pulled up, it's premade parts slotting together perfectly. Within a moment, it was primed to fire. It did so, sending a massive payload of kegs, each filled with explosive chemicals, into the Nords. The blast was powerful enough to completely immolate anything at its centre, sending body parts and screaming, burning men flying for more than a hundred metres in any direction. Another booming volley was fired from the Imperial lines as the trebuchet was primed to fire again, and Alicarius gave his orders. “SHIELD WALL! NOW!” The men did so, Alicarius getting his own one, a massive thing easily two metres in diameter, up and locking it next the man next to him. He raised his halberd over the top as the other men beside him drew their swords. The rank behind them raised their own muskets up bayonets fixed, forming an impenetrable wall of steel. The Nord forces reached the bottom of the valley, the frontrunners lucky enough to still be alive already beginning to scramble up the hill on the Imperial side. “WEDGE, ADVANCE!” Alicarius roared. With him at it's head, the shield was began to advance, the edges tailing to form the brutally effective wedge shape. It advanced slowly, down the hill, building up a rumbling momentum as it reached the Nord lines. It went through them like Alicarius's halberd would go through butter. Every soldier fought with mechanical precision, perfectly drilled in a tactic that rarely failed. If one of the Chorrol soldiers was killed, his comrade would abandon his musket, take his own sword and shield and plug the gap. Meanwhile, the trebuchet sent load after load of explosives into the Nord ranks, the explosions causing more damage. Already, the Skryim army was beginning to break, men running in fear rather than face the relentless advance of the wedge. The few desertions soon turned into a full blown retreat, men running to the top of the hill, but staying there. It wasn't a retreat, Alicarius realised with shock. It was a withdrawl. But why? What could they possibly gain by falling back, except for the high ground. And charging a wedge was suicide. A chant came up from the Nord lines, men roaring the same word over and over. “Grund! Grund! Grund! Grund!” And from the centre of the Nord lines, a massive humanoid shape rose up, released from chains that jangled against its monstrous from, one that dwarfed even the largest trees around them. An arm coated in massive muscles held a club that was simply a tree trunk that been ripped from the ground and stripped of it's branches. With a shock, Alicarius realised what Grund was. A giant. |
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| IAMDIZZYONFANTA | Aug 4 2009, 06:13 PM Post #89 |
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Bearer of the HOJ
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Oooh, epic fight tiiime! 
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6:29 PM Nov 25
