Out of the Frying Pan (Closed/PM to join)

The immediate area outside Naris Capitol city
User avatar
Fates End
Posts: 505
Joined: Thu Mar 30, 2017 1:00 am
Location: Deepest Darkest Montana

Postby Fates End » Tue Aug 28, 2018 11:40 am

((Firstly, some housekeeping. The topic is closed barring those who signed up. If you would like to join, message me here or on discord and we should be able to make something work.

This will use FRAKs, but I'm more interested in weaving an interesting story than punishing people for rolls. No PC's will die unless you specifically want them to. But I imagine there will be injuries and trauma. The story will progress roughly in rounds, and you may tag an aspect once per round for stat boosts, rather than once per thread.

I intend to do plot updates every 2-3 days, depending on activity. If you're unable to post for an extended period of time, please let me know and we can handwave your character to be a truck driver/etc. That way you can hop back in at a later time if you want. If you have any questions, please ask :) ))


___________

The word spread like wildfire through the base. Sparking both hope and snorts of derision. It must be a trap, right? But the man who'd come in through the gates at a mad dash the night before, tracer fire and pulse rounds stabbing through the dark after him . . . he seemed on the level. Exhausted and almost at wits end, but on the level.

A Lieutenant from Armageddon, the 787th "Hellborn" Mechanized Steel Legion. He came with a tall tale, but a tale that might provide hope. His regiment was still mostly on the way to Valmaria, coming down in bits and pieces based on the whims of Warp Travel and the Emperor's blessing. But two companies had touched down months ago on the wrong side of Naris, and had steadily been pushing for friendly territory. That he and his men had lived so long he attributed to Steel Legion spirit, the indomitable will of the Astra Militarum, and the fact that when they touched down they brought enough armored firepower with them to "shatter mountains", as he put it.

But now he was here, and his unit was out there. He'd crawled through snow and muck, one of a few volunteers to try and make it to allied lines for aid. The two companies were encircled out in the Narisian forest and the noose was closing. They needed a corridor to safety. And he had a plan for such a corridor. A simple plan, they were held up some distance away just outside a small village that was occupied by a combined rebel and Tau force. A coordinated assault on the village from both encircled and rescuing forces would open a hole in the enemy lines large enough to push through, and then a mad dash for the City would be all that stood between his beleaguered legionnaires and some hard-earned rest.

So now he stood out in the morning sun, the once-dashing and now exhausted lieutenant Rankin was clad in brown trenchcoat, with a gasmask clipped to his belt. Blue eyes and a buzz-cut, square jaw and a swagger. The call from command had gone out, a small force of trucks and chimeras had been appropriated. And as was usual with the hodgepodge Hammer of the Imperium, a call for volunteers had gone out. On the table was a chance to take the Blueberry's (or their lackeys) by surprise from behind. And according to the Lieutenant, rescue a force of Leman Russ's and Hellhounds who needed just a bit more fuel (and a bit of a rescue) to make it home.

He fidgeted in the early morning sun, stamping his feet to try and keep warm from the chill. Who would show up?

((Feel free to introduce characters however you see fit. After a few posts we'll get the show on the road :) ))
"In life, war. In death, peace. In life, shame. In death, atonement."

(Fates now has too many characters to link easily. Thus follow this handy link to my character thread and go wild.

User avatar
LaxKnight
Posts: 931
Joined: Fri Sep 29, 2017 11:23 pm
Location: United States

Postby LaxKnight » Tue Aug 28, 2018 1:03 pm

When word reached Nat ‘Mad Hatter’ Clesh of the Armageddon Steel Legion needed aid, she set aside any plans she had and immediately did whatever it took to join the party to save them. No one probably expected a Chem Dog to join with such zeal but Hat was a veteran of Armageddon, having worked alongside a few regiments of the Steel Legion, and those she worked with didn’t treat her like crap like everyone else. They taught her a lot of things, like how to drive a Chimera and, while she didn’t know this regiment of them, she felt like she owed them to at least try and help. If anything, she had to do it for Bob.

When it came time for them to meet, Hat ran up gingerly to the officer and gave a salute. She was wearing her greatcoat that seemed Valhallan in style, dual bandoliers with grenades crossing her chest, her large duffel bag on her back, Flamer slung on her shoulder, Rebreather and goggles around her neck, and a helmet the officer would recognize was the exact same model as those the Steel Legion used.

“Chem Dog Hat reporting for duty sir!” Hat said with enthusiasm, “When are we going to save the Legion and grill some fish people?!”
Apparently, I made too many characters. Here they are:



User avatar
Heart|Soul
Posts: 81
Joined: Fri Jul 20, 2018 10:08 pm
Location: Jacksonville, Florida

Postby Heart|Soul » Tue Aug 28, 2018 4:38 pm

Lourn had been wandering the base for a while now, trying to find the Steel Legion lieutenant after hearing the rumors. He hadn't had very long to acquaint himself with all of the various companies present before leaving, so he was still learning the differences between the regiments; compounded with his lack of knowledge of the base's layout, he was completely and utterly lost. It had been a very awkward conversation when he'd mistaken a random Krieger as the lieutenant. Thankfully, he'd been given directions and a rough description of who he was looking for, making this whole endeavor much easier.

He approached the pair and saluted the lieutenant. "Private Germaine. Good to see you, sir." The private was quite a sight to behold, wearing carapace armor that was clearly too large for him, an Accatran-pattern lasrifle slung over his shoulder that was certainly not standard issue for pilots, and his pilot's helmet, which he shifted under his arm.

Archer
Posts: 334
Joined: Mon Nov 13, 2017 4:52 pm

Postby Archer » Tue Aug 28, 2018 4:51 pm

Luca had just finished cleaning his armor and grooming himself when he heard the call for soldiers to pull an Armageddon Steel Legion force out of the meat grinder. He was up and pulling on his armor, he wasn't going to let another mission go out without him along to protect the officers involved. He didn't want to let anyone else get hurt, not to mention he'd wanted another taste of real combat, readying his hotshot he walked across the base and clicked the helmet on letting the green eye lenses flare into life.

The Lucifer stepped up to stand beside Hat giving a salute. "Corporal Luca Astora reporting in, here to get our brothers in arms. I'll serve however you need sir." He added ramrod straight, freshly polished brass, and his armor neatly cleaned he was ready. The young man was sealed in his black armor he did his best not shudder in the cool morning air he wanted to seem professional and serious.

User avatar
CyGamer
Posts: 901
Joined: Tue Dec 27, 2016 11:16 pm
Location: Missouri, USA

Postby CyGamer » Tue Aug 28, 2018 5:47 pm

Tick was never one to head out of base once he had hunkered down, short of leaving in a retreat. But he had volunteered to help rescue the Steel Legionaries from the tau, not out of any real heroic reason, but more for the fact he didn't like to leave men in a trap. Marching up to the meeting point, lasgun in one hand, grenade launcher in the other, and a belt full of grenades, mines, and Krak charges. A half burnt Iho hung from his lips as he stepped up and saluted the lieutenant.

"Jeres Cadel, 335th Kasrkin Shock Troopers, demo expert. Friends call me Tick, enemies call me Tick, you can call me Tick. This is for you." Handing forward a letter marked with the Medicaes symbol, noting he had been taking his medication to help with paranoia.

Who says the future has to be grimdark? Matt Ward that's who.

User avatar
Hobbsy
Posts: 953
Joined: Sun Jan 08, 2017 3:16 am
Location: Palmiston North, New Zealand

Postby Hobbsy » Tue Aug 28, 2018 7:26 pm

//

User avatar
Fates End
Posts: 505
Joined: Thu Mar 30, 2017 1:00 am
Location: Deepest Darkest Montana

Postby Fates End » Wed Aug 29, 2018 1:12 am

Rankin leveled his gaze on the first to approach him. A Chem Dog. Of all the things he expected to see on this Emperor damned planet, a Chem Dog was not one of them. He blinked once, like a reptile gauging its response. "Chem Dog Hat." He hazarded with the vague lofty tone of one born into command. "That's a nice---name. Welcome to the relief effort, it's good to see such a ----familiar form. As to the grilling of the Xenos filth, we'll be on the move shortly, waiting for another officer and a commissar of some form, I was told." He jerked a thumb towards one of the idling trucks, "Mount up."

His attention quickly turned to what looked suspiciously like a Drop Trooper. The salute was correct---but the overly familiar "good to see you" made the Lieutenant's eyes narrow. It didn't do to socialize too much with the men and women under his command. His thoughts strayed to the bitch of a fellow Lieutenant that he fervently hoped was dead out in the woods somewhere. She'd socialized with her men. Too much. His errant thoughts caused his salute to have an almost "harsh" edge to it as he returned the gesture to Germaine. "Private," He said with considerably less kindness. "Mount up, we're moving out as soon as the rest of the command gets here." And just like that his attention was shifting away.

And then---Oh God Emperor on the Golden Throne. Was it really ---- His well-bred eyes knew the pictures by heart. But how the hell had a Lucifer Black come to be on Valmaria. Now, for the first time the Lieutenant's posture sharpened up. This was certainly a sign. It must be. "Corporal Astora," He greeted with something approaching a smile. "Welcome aboard," He pointed towards a Chimera, one of the three they had assigned. "Chimera 1 is your ride, by the Throne it's good to have you here."

He was interrupted in saying more by the approach of a confusing stick of a man who was carrying far too many grenades for anyone sane. "I---" He trailed off, eyes darting too and fro, trying to count exactly how many explosives were strapped to various body parts. His hands limply accepted the medicae paperwork and he thumbed through it mechanically, still staring. The Lucifer Black had been one thing---but this---what the hell was this? What had these people been doing in the base while he and his men had been dying out in the woods . . . "Welcome. Tick." He choked out, pointing vaguely towards the trucks lined up and ready to move out. "Mount--uh. Mount up. We're moving out soon."

In the background there were several Penal legionnaires, he noted with distaste. Praying that someone more suitable would come along. Penal Legionnaires had their place, he knew. But he preferred it far from him, preferably soaking up Tau fire somewhere so good and honorable soldiers could do the actual killing of the Xenos scum.

Was this all that he could count on?
Last edited by Fates End on Wed Aug 29, 2018 7:10 am, edited 1 time in total.
"In life, war. In death, peace. In life, shame. In death, atonement."

(Fates now has too many characters to link easily. Thus follow this handy link to my character thread and go wild.

User avatar
LaxKnight
Posts: 931
Joined: Fri Sep 29, 2017 11:23 pm
Location: United States

Postby LaxKnight » Wed Aug 29, 2018 2:00 am

Hat watched the officer mull over her like he wasn’t quite sure how to take her. She was used to this kind of reaction though was mildly surprised by the lack of curt/harshness. He mentioned another officer and a Commissar and her eyes widened with shock. When he jerked his thumb and ordered her to mount up she gave a distracted, “Yes sir,” before doing so.

The idea of a Commissar joining them frightened Hat. If someone needed to die to raise morale, it was always a Chem Dog. They always tried to wheedle an excuse to execute the ‘criminal scum’. The only decent one she met was Commissar Cat, all others she tried to avoid as much as possible. She briefly considered booking it but it was too late. She stood before a truck, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. This was for Bob. Besides, she’ll get to burn things for the Flame Lord. Feeling a little better, she hopped into the back of the truck and lit up a lho stick to help her nerves a little bit more. After doing so she noticed a familiar face. Staying silent as not to draw attention to him, she smiled happily and waved eagerly at him.
Apparently, I made too many characters. Here they are:



User avatar
Hobbsy
Posts: 953
Joined: Sun Jan 08, 2017 3:16 am
Location: Palmiston North, New Zealand

Postby Hobbsy » Wed Aug 29, 2018 6:19 am

As Joseph drew near, he observed the man who the other soldiers had gathered around. It was clear he was an officer, he must have been the one at the helm of this rescue party. Joseph also noted how he only reacted positively to the shinier figure, a warning light in his eyes. He could be the sort Joseph truly detested. Then again, he my just have been impressed be the guardsmen's armour. The black and gold trimming was quite stunning to behold, Joseph could help steering a little himself. Ether way, the Bacaran gave the officer a wide berth. He didn't mix well with rank anyway.

Turning back to where Hat had went he noticed he waving with a smile from one of the trucks. Lighting up a little, Joseph returned the wave and made his way over to the truck. It would be best to hope on before he was ordered to join unfamiliar folk. Hopping up on the truck bed, Joseph removed his pack and took a seat beside his friend. "Mornin Hat." he greeted warmly, "It's good to see you. How's life been treating you?".
//

User avatar
Heart|Soul
Posts: 81
Joined: Fri Jul 20, 2018 10:08 pm
Location: Jacksonville, Florida

Postby Heart|Soul » Wed Aug 29, 2018 8:54 am

Lourn gave a lieutenant another salute with a "Yes, sir" and made his way to the far Chimera to take his seat, a solemn air about him. While he hadn't heard too many of the rumors, he knew about the one that made him out as a spy, though he just knew others had to exist. Perhaps the Lieutenant had heard one of them. A wave of anger washed over him. He hadn't walked for six months just to be treated like a traitor! He hadn't broken his leg for that! He sure as hell didn't walk an another two days on that leg, only to be picked up by some Guardsmen who were, in all likelihood, just going to shoot him in the back!

He took a deep breath and calmed himself. He was getting worked up over nothing. He took out the helmet and looked it over. The paint was worn- severely so- but the familiar pattern could be recognized, if one squinted at it. Grabbing one of his sleeves, he scrubbed at a patch of carbon scoring, where he'd had a close call with a pulse round. He quickly gave up and began a quick check on his lasrifle. Apparently, the decision was to let him keep the gear he already had in order to save resources, though he would have to get the proper training one of these days. He was not looking forward to that day.

User avatar
Warsmith Wolf
Posts: 478
Joined: Sun Dec 25, 2016 12:32 pm
Location: Nara, Japan
Contact:

Postby Warsmith Wolf » Wed Aug 29, 2018 9:31 am

As one can imagine, the opportunity to recover precious men and materiel is something any beleaguered Guard commander would relish. Though the 554th Death Korps of Krieg only technically cared for the former by High Command mandate, their all-consuming hunger for anything with a weapon calibre higher than 'infantry-grade' was both undisguised and exceptionally potent. Multiple plans to force the breakthrough operation were nixed early in the planning stage once the Kriegers realised that a mass infantry assault to cover the withdrawal of the tank brigade was in severe violation of the freshly enforced Holt Doctrine*, and the artillery officers could only lament that all of their knowledge of saturation bombardments and creeping barrages was useless when the base had no artillery in the first place.** It was with this in mind, and the news of a volunteer relief force being drafted from across the base, that 554th Command devised their final plan - a plan that couldn't suffer any losses, as the one soldier being sent to reinforce the volunteer squad was dead already.

It was under these circumstances that Grenadier Unit #66-A-7343/038996490/G had been assigned to the Steel Legion Recovery Operation.

Weeks of injury recovery, penitential isolation, gradual re-acclimatisation to combat scenarios, and a healthy dose of inspirational loathing (self-applied by the unit in question) could only do so much. The 554th had done all that it could to prepare the Grenadier for its fate, and now only fate itself could say what lay in store for the much-maligned (and yet somehow twice-decorated) vanguard trooper.

The soldier that marched out into that marshalling yard under a cold morning sun was not the soldier they had once been. Lifelong cultural indoctrination, ingrained self-hatred, and the previous weeks' ordeal had moulded Grenadier #66-A-7343/G into a weapon suited precisely for the task at hand, and that fact was evident. Their ramrod-straight posture gave off an almost unnerving sense of confidence, their field prosthetic not seeming to hinder them in the least. Their armour was neatly kept and practically spotless, the heavy stubber in their grip having been disassembled, cleaned, and reassembled so many times in isolation that, were it not for the anti-glare matte varnish lovingly wiped onto its casing, it would have gleamed. Everything about the Grenadier exuded absolute faith in themselves, which would have been delightful if it had been anyone but a Krieger exhibiting such tendencies. Naturally, when the unit snapped a crisp and almost fluid salute to the ranking officer of the recovery force and sounded off, their usually dead tone carried a perceptible eagerness that, considering what they actually said, was both impressive and highly disturbing.

"Grenadier Unit #66-A-7343/038996490/G reporting for assignment. This unit has been issued its Final Dispensation and will ensure its success. This unit will ensure it does not survive the Operation should it result in failure. Glory to the Emperor."

*Being a single-sentence missive dispatched from High Command, as signed and authorised by Commissars Holt and Wittmann: "Stop wasting men or you'll be excommunicated."
**A turn of phrase. Kriegers are largely recognised to be incapable of understanding the concepts of regret or lamentation.
Ferrum honore veniat.


User avatar
CyGamer
Posts: 901
Joined: Tue Dec 27, 2016 11:16 pm
Location: Missouri, USA

Postby CyGamer » Wed Aug 29, 2018 9:54 am

Tick nodded as he was pointed to the trucks. Most officers had heard of him, or about what he did, to get a sense of nervousness and loathing when he was around. He was a walking detonator strapped to several pounds of high explosives, that tends to make a lot of people nervous. Was funny though to see the officer eyes bulge at his pack.

Looking around he saw this was a “scrapping the barrel” group. Not that it bothered him, he was a bottom of the barrel guy himself. He Mumbled a yes sir and shuffled over to the chimeras, but stopped and checked the bottom of his. Can never be too careful. Satisfied that this wasn’t an elaborate trap to kill him, he jumped up and began to remove some of the contents from his rucksack. Detcord, timers, smoke bombs, and a mostly complete bomber defusal kit. He looked around, and saw a few worried faces.

“Oh don’t worry, stuff stable. Didn’t decide to bring any of my home brewed stuff. Hey care for a krak charge?” He said, holding the bag open like it was filled with candy, and not fiery death.
Last edited by CyGamer on Sat Sep 01, 2018 1:13 am, edited 1 time in total.

Who says the future has to be grimdark? Matt Ward that's who.

blinddeadmcjones
Posts: 899
Joined: Thu Jan 12, 2017 11:25 pm
Location: Australia

Postby blinddeadmcjones » Wed Aug 29, 2018 10:51 am

not long after 66's arrival, four more figures arrived with little to no fanfare, though anyone unfamiliar with these individual would've described it as a quartet of ghouls looking for a abandoned manor or swamp to haunt if the pale faces and sullen expressions were any indication, those in the know would've recognised them as being from the Prometheron regiment on base, and would've probably agreed with that grim description in all likelihood.

leading the group was the recently returned Claudia Halvus, having been stuck in enemy lines for some time herself the officer could empathise with the steel legions plight - insofar as a deathworlder could feel empathy - having her assigned to this rescue effort was a no brainer, the lieutenant however knew this would also be a test of sorts, a trial to see how well she could interact with soldiers of other regiments and vice versa, after having gleaned what information she could about the Hall of Virtue incident, and of how other units from the 653rd have had personality clashes with the other enlisted she quickly concluded that such a test would be a prudent course of action. as for the other three in the group, an honour guard/escort purely to accompany her as far as the muster and then presumably return to their other duties elsewhere unless told otherwise

once she arrived the lieutenant and her entourage presented themselves to the Steel legion officer, clad in her combat gear with a long barreled boltgun slung over her shoulder and a large power fist covering one hand up to the elbow, a weapon that she evidently was quite comfortable with weight wise given how at ease she looked.

"Lieutenant Claudia Halvus, reporting" she said, a very faint playful tone in her voice "looking forward to working with you."
guard characters: ///

User avatar
Fates End
Posts: 505
Joined: Thu Mar 30, 2017 1:00 am
Location: Deepest Darkest Montana

Postby Fates End » Wed Aug 29, 2018 10:22 pm

Rankin's morning was certainly interesting. Vexing, even. Especially considering the approach of what he thought at first was a joke of a Steel Legionnaire. Clad in darkness, moving with disturbing purpose. When it spoke, his mind immediately switched tracks--it must be a Servitor. That was it. Some sort of---mechanical monstrosity blabbering about final Dispensation?

But then the lightbulb went off somewhere in the back of his mind. This was a soldier from the Death Korps. He vaguely recalled a briefing that Death Korps forces were also inbound to the planet. This woman---no. This thing must be one of them. "Glory to the Emperor." He intoned with a raspy, suddenly dry throat. This thing was willing to die. But then---that was a soldier's duty, yes? He supposed if it really wanted to die, he shouldn't stop it from trying. "Mount---up. Grenadier." He carried on after a moment, licking his lips and nodding towards one of the trucks. "Your stubber will do well from up in the bed in case of ambush."

He turned, half in expectation that his orders would be followed by such a drone-like creature. And half because he was afraid he'd start visibly shaking if he stared at it for too long. It exuded terror on an instinctual level that he couldn't quite quantify. All he wanted for the Grenadier was that it go sit in the truck and scare someone else.

His eyes then locked onto the approaching officer and finally. Finally he seemed to breath a sigh of relief. A killer. He could tell by her step and the way she carried herself. In some ways similar to another woman he knew (and loathed), but seemingly far more suitable for the task at hand. "Lieutenant Halvus, I'm Lieutenant Rankin. It's good to meet you." His voice grew in strength. Other officers he knew how to deal with. They were on the same level and everything made so much more sense when there was an officer of equal caliber to oneself to help carry the load. The Emperor's work would be done this day.

"I believe we'll be expecting a Commissar, and then if there are no more volunteers to be had we'll get moving. Every minute here is another minute the Steel Legion stands alone out in those damnable woods." He paused, almost as an after thought---"Were you briefed on the operation?"
"In life, war. In death, peace. In life, shame. In death, atonement."

(Fates now has too many characters to link easily. Thus follow this handy link to my character thread and go wild.

User avatar
Warsmith Wolf
Posts: 478
Joined: Sun Dec 25, 2016 12:32 pm
Location: Nara, Japan
Contact:

Postby Warsmith Wolf » Thu Aug 30, 2018 6:25 am

Ferrum honore veniat.


User avatar
LaxKnight
Posts: 931
Joined: Fri Sep 29, 2017 11:23 pm
Location: United States

Postby LaxKnight » Fri Aug 31, 2018 2:51 am

Hat’s smile grew wider as Joseph approached. When he got on she patted a spot next to her which he sat then pulled out another lho stick and held it out to him, an unspoken offer, as he asked how she was. “Sup Joseph,” she replied, “I’m doing okay. Got to help out Steel Legion. For Bob and Bob Junior.”

Hat nodded her head toward him to indicate her helmet, Bob Junior. As she waited for a response on the lho stick she looked out the back as she took in another drag. That was when she noticed the Krieger heading their way. She gave him a gentle elbow and pointed with her lho stick. “Look who’s joining us,” she said.

Once the Krieger joined them Hat simply stared. Not at the grisly and fearful gasmask, however. She was staring at the helmet. Hat always wanted a Krieg helmet. She has never managed to get her hands on one thanks to the efficiency of those special ones they call Quartermasters who collect gear from dead Kriegers. After a minute her eyes went down to the rest of the Krieger as she took another drag. This didn’t look like Erika, her Krieger friend. Maybe a different regiment? Who knows. However, one thing was really bothering her.

“Hey, uh…. Krieg…. Person,” Hat stumbled through her greeting, not sure how to address them, “Do you have a name?”
Apparently, I made too many characters. Here they are:



User avatar
Hobbsy
Posts: 953
Joined: Sun Jan 08, 2017 3:16 am
Location: Palmiston North, New Zealand

Postby Hobbsy » Fri Aug 31, 2018 9:55 pm

//

User avatar
Heart|Soul
Posts: 81
Joined: Fri Jul 20, 2018 10:08 pm
Location: Jacksonville, Florida

Postby Heart|Soul » Fri Aug 31, 2018 10:56 pm

Lourn stared at the Krieger as it (he? she?) passed. He dug through his memories, trying to remember what he could.

Ruthless. Efficient. Completely willing to die. Everything I'm not, I guess.

Putting the lasrifle back together, he slung it around his shoulder and glanced at the growing crowd, wondering just who else would join them.

User avatar
CyGamer
Posts: 901
Joined: Tue Dec 27, 2016 11:16 pm
Location: Missouri, USA

Postby CyGamer » Fri Aug 31, 2018 11:39 pm

A little miffed no one took up his offer for free grenades(what gaurdsmen turn down free stuff? Are they eldar?!), he put his pack down and started his prep, making sure all his wires were inserted correctly. Red striped on green bad, green striped on red good. Or was it opposite? Then everyone got quiet. Looking up he saw a Krieger marching to the truck, clad in that dark grey greatcoat and signature skull mask. Well things look interesting now. This was a motley crew indeed.

“Well, nice to have you. Here hop on.” He said and moved his pack over. He did like having the Death Korps around, always made fine trenches and weren’t afraid of danger close. Plus they loved their bombs as much as he did.

Who says the future has to be grimdark? Matt Ward that's who.

User avatar
Warsmith Wolf
Posts: 478
Joined: Sun Dec 25, 2016 12:32 pm
Location: Nara, Japan
Contact:

Postby Warsmith Wolf » Sat Sep 01, 2018 10:27 am

Ferrum honore veniat.



Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 7 guests