She was left alone for the most part, able to complete her exercises and practice with her tail. After some time, she began getting some better affinity with it, and upon testing it, it was revealed to be roughly as strong, as a human arm and most likely able to hold up her body weight, albeit with some difficulty.
After a period of time, there was a knock on the door.
"Hey, Vara, it's Ophelia...you coming down for dinner?"
******
Nelly appeared close to the Royal Emperor. "Hello Master, how are you? I noticed you seemed a bit...upset last we parted."
Tyramon as Eastrid and Corali are talking, Kenji automatically moves over to make space for Eastrid to sit next to him. He, Luca and Ace all watch the conversation between the two of them curiously.
Ophelia smiled warmly. "Glad to hear it...hey, sorry the Master has been giving you a hard time...um...we got something made for you as a little welcoming gift, me and the usual suspects; we'll give it to you after dinner sometime, yeah?"
******
Nelly smiled. "Vara is becoming well accustomed to her new status and station, Master. Several more hours tied up naked in the cold should have her a perfect Succubus, and if not, a few more will be arranged. I apologise for her defiance, Master, but we've made short work of that."
"What...do you mean?"
Nelly let out a small chuckle. "She is very obedient now...barely able to make personal decisions on her own volition, like a good girl. Of course, I am different due to my station; Succubi Matriarchs do need an element of autonomy to them...but, Vara didn't need that."
She gave a self-respecting nod, as if she was satisfied with her work. "So in short, Master, her training is running along nicely and by next week she should be off probation and able to service her masters as usual."
Eastrid's eyes lit up as she let out an excited squeal, and tapped Corali's hands excitedly. Her Aerlanic was impecable. "You are a Spellweaver from the barbarian lands of the east! that is wonderful, I have heard many tales! it is good to see someone from my time. You like the now, yes? it is wonderful, so much stuff, so much food, they are funny as well, they use paper in place of silver, and they have no warriors."
Eastrid seemed extremely excited before she turned to Kenji, speaking in Augustan.
"She is from my time, from past, we show her the world now yes?" She asked with a wide smile, a broken pace and a thick accent.
She threw out her hand to Corali.
"I am Eastrid, we shake hands in the now to make friends."
"Why are you doing this...tell me...explain to me your perspective."
Ophelia looked over to Vara as they walked out. "Hey, sorry about...Melody; she can be a bit of a bitch...Judy told me she got a bit too close and personal."
******
Nelly smiled. "I hope her bitterness is removed; It's one thing to be polite under duress, it's another to be polite without being punished...I hope she is as good with me as she is with you."
She approached the Royal Emperor and tilted her head to the side. "Now...how about...we get to know each other a bit more."
She bit her lip seductively. "I know you're a busy man...but maybe shoulder rubs arent going to cut it when making you feel relaxed..."
(I had a couple questions. You said Vara cannot use her psychic powers, but others can still use psychic powers on her, right? Perhaps even more easily than before because of her powers being taken away? Also, how far away is Nelly's manor from the Tyramonian base on that planet?)
Vara nodded. "Yeah, she did. But nothing too bad, luckily."
******
The Royal Emperor ignored her suggestion. "Perhaps not, but you can do them anyways. How is my daughter?"
(Perhaps, I was under the impression the Collar rendered her abilities mute, and her mind psychically deaf. But if you want her to be succeptible to Psychic influence for the story, then we can do so.
As for the base location, a significant ways away, just like Iblion's castle and Fluffy's stomping grounds. More or less a weeks drive or a half day flight out to get to them.)
"Yeah...tell me about it...look, don't think too much about Melody; she's just upset she wasn't made a Matriarch..."
Ophelia shook her head. "Sometimes I think if she'll be a worse Matriarch than Mistress Lithalia..." she shivered, "...that woman gives me the heeby jeebies..."
******
Nelly sighed, visibly upset that the Royal Emperor turned her down. She returned to massaging his shoulders. "She's fine...just absolutely obsessed with me, want's me to be with her all the time and even get intimate; don't worry, Master, she'll stay a virgin as per your orders."
Also, how many Aerlanicans do you want to die and how many do you want to survive the occupation?)
"What exactly makes Mistress Lithalia so bad?"
******
The Royal Emperor paused for a second, considering something. "Very well. Keep up the good work. I'll be returning there tomorrow, so meet me there, rather than at this secondary base."
******
Corali nodded and responded in Aerlanic. "Yes, fairly strong."
(Yeah, it's a wells away, but it's for security measures; Iblion's still pretty paranoid about his last time with an Emperor so he isn't taking chances. I guess you could say it's a nation within a nation with border patrols and air patrols but they wouldn't fire on the Royal Emperor's shuttle if that's what you're thinking. They'd tell everyone that he was coming because, well, he Is the Royal Emperor and technically the boss of their boss, and if not they'd just get ready for a fight.
Also about how many Aerlanicans are to die? anywhere between 33% and 50%, and make their deaths especially cruel, brutal, violent, agonising, warcrimey etc. Dying in slavery is fair game, ah...yeah i think u get the picture. That should bring the population down to anywhere between 300 million or 400 million, about a third of the population of Aerlanica before the Aerlanican civil war.)
Ophelia turned sideways to Vara. "Please, everyone knows that; Mistress Lithalia sees her Succubi as possessions and toys to be used at any given moment meaning she can grab ou by the neck and torture or use you and you have to obey. She also doesnt care much for the rules and tries to subvert them...about a month or two back before we moved to this planet, there was a girl called Janet...we weren't really close, but she liked stargazing which...I thought was cute."
"What happened to her?"
"She stepped outside the boundaries one night, and Mistress Nelly found her being abused by five different Succubi, including Mistress Lithalia...push comes to shove, she...got pretty rattled and messed up by the whole thing and we found her with her throat cut out and a knife in her hand."
Ophelia shook his head, looked around, and lowered her voice.
"Don't...telll anyone I said this because it's technically not allowed but...If I had the time of day of Master Iblion, I'd get rid of Mistress Lithalia...because what's to say she won't try to break into this mansion..."
******
Nelly bowed and nodded before she returned to behind the Royal Emperor and massaged his shoulders.
"Why do you not wan't to toy with me...am I not your type?"
Whaaaaaat... you make it sound like the Tyramonians are mean or something...no...my plan looks far better on paper and on the news.)
"Well, surely she wouldn't go against Iblion's orders, would she? Or do you think Iblion wouldn't care?"
******
"I guess you could say that."
******
"Well...I can shapeshift." Corali paused awkwardly. Her face grew panicked and she turned to Luca. "Luca...I can't...I can't shift my form...something is wrong with me..."
(oh, groovy, I presume I'll have to wait and see?)
******
"Technically she isn't. Master Iblion just says to not hurt or capture anyone within the Matriarch's specific territory...anyone in the wilderness outside is fair game in their eyes...thats why we stay here; it's too dangerous to leave, and Mistress Nelly would be killed in only a few seconds if she tries to stand up to Mistress Lithalia."
******
Nelly pouted. "I can become your type very easily...tell me, what is your type."
She mounted the Royal Emperor's table briefly before sitting on his lap, looking at him; she was surprisingly light.
The Royal Emperor looked at her. Either he was unfazed, or he was very good at pretending so. "Nelly, you look tired. You should head home for the night."
"I...should be able to change my shape...but I can't...maybe that is what Sorcerer Delegata did to me..."
******
Madylin Jones receives a message from the Royal Emperor that she is to announce a large-scale relocation program, where Aerlanicans are to be sent to distant colony worlds while their country is healed and made fit for human habitation. The people will be given a great opportunity on a lush forest world, a mining world with rich resources, an extremely fertile world for farming, and possibly others.
"To the old broken fence." Ophelia said simply as they entered the crowded din of the dining hall. "As far as I know, Mistress Lithala has patrols just scouring the areas beyond the fence looking desperately for anyone to add to their collection...good thing Master Calivan tries to stymie her."
******
Nelly lent close and smiled. "The only thing i'm tired about is not being able to give you everything I have to offer."
She shifted slightly, placing her hands on his shoulders. She caressed his neck.
"I can feel it, Master...deep deep down within you, buried under a hundred and one memories and routines and self imposed restrictions...it all down there, stiring, straining, yearning...deep down you want to...deep down you want me...deep down you want to do everything to me and then some; make me scream, make me mewl, make me groan..."
She whispered into his ear, a scent extremely appeasing to the Royal Emperor filling his nostrils just in her proximity.
"I know you want it Master...so why suppress it? no one is here, no one can hear or listen...there's nothing to be afraid of..."
Eastrid frowned. "Another spell weaver? is he bad?"
******
Upon announcement the reaction is mostly negative. Some make a break for the mountains, however blasted and destroyed they are, others resist and make defiant stands in slews of neighbourhoods, some even hijack the transports, and either manage to flee into the mountains or get shot down and become fiery wrecks in the already torn and destroyed landscape of Aerlanica, stripped of nearly all traces of civilisation.
However, when Madylin is attempted to be contacted, and Twilight's Hollow is attempted to be evacuated, they see the city already little more than silent buildings and echos.
Madylin has vanished, and with her a large cohort of Aerlanicans.
It does not take long, however, to find what happened to her; on all channels, she broadcasts a declaration against the Royal Emperor and claims the mantle of the true government of Aerlanica, specifically, the last one. With venom in her voice, she declares the Final Authority of Aerlanica, and declares a Grand Purification against the whole of Tyramon. She claims that Aerlanica shall destroy all of Tyramon, even if it is the last thing the Aerlanican state does.
A Grand Purification, as declared by ancient Aerlanic law (to which Aerlanica is the successor state of) states that the nation or group targeted by the Grand Purification has one of two options; surrender the head of the leader to them, or surrender their entire existance, I.e. face complete annihilation.
Due to the fact the Final Authority, as they stand, currently lacks the ability to directly wage genocide on Tyramon and her people, it's more a formality than anything.
Primaeri intelligence officers inform the Royal Emperor that they also have intercepted a brief spat between Madylin Jones and Field Marshal Andrew Montgomery, the Emergency Prime Minister of the Federation of Aerlanica. A rift has formed between them, and Andrew Montgomery more or less declared war upon Madylin Jones on account of her being "Counter-revolutionary, and heretical towards the Sacred Constitution." A Second Aerlanican Civil War in the midst of their annihilation.
However, as it stands, most the Aerlanicans are currently in transit, and most likely have not heard about this revanchist declaration. Then again, there is still close to thirty million Aerlanicans scattered across Augusta, and it was a safe estimate that a portion was now filled with a genocidal fury against Tyramon.
The Royal Emperor lent in close and looked Nelly in the eyes. "Nelly...I wasn't asking when I said you should go home. Now get out." His voice carried no malice. It was firm and carried a bit of a warning tone, however.
******
"She, actually...I guess there is confusion because a lot of cultures differentiate between Sorcerers and...Sorceress-es? We don't differentiate between them. But yeah, she is very bad."
******
The first transports arrive to the forest world, and video of the arrival is made public showing a lush green planet with towering green trees with bright green leaves. Colorful bird-like creatures fly above, and a few six-legged dear-like creatures can be seen eating grass and ferns. Shining rivers flow nearby, and some Aerlanicans get their picture taken standing in front of a beautiful waterfall. Indeed, the place looks like paradise.
Some time later, similar images come from the farming planet, showing the people arriving on grasslands. Sure enough, soil tests reveal the ground to be a perfect natural fertilizer for several staple crops, and farming equipment and seeds are unloaded from a transport.
In Aerlanica, the Armada begins a project of removing toxic topsoil from a few areas. Healthy, non-mutated cattle are also brought in to some areas that aren't as toxic.
"We should kill her then." Eastrid said with a matter-of-fact tone and nod. "We should ask Eziron."
******
The Aerlanicans get to work on these new planets. Much like a hive of ants, they share the workload and make a rough, ramshackle network of settlements with some basic sanitation and facilities. On the forest planet, several Aerlanicans request fishing and hunting gear, with others asking for reading and writing impliments to help continue the education of children. Other than that, they ask for food to tie themselves over for the time being.
In the more plains area, a lot of the non-Hartian Aerlanicans begin suffering from Kenophobia; without the comfort of the huge mountains, or the valleys forests (however dead they may be), they are growing extremely antsy and uncomfortable, often with some refusing to stay far away from buit structures or indoor areas. Opposed to this, the Hartians simply get to work, happy they have fields to tend.
This is not to say they simply forget Aerlanica; in the forest planet they vote for the name New Grendel to call the planet, and set up a rough council ruling over the settlements, electing a leader of these villages and towns. In the plains planet (aptly named New Hartia) they set up a similar system, but instead of a single leader there is an elected Oligarchy of representatives dubbed the New Hartian Council.
The near immediate establishment of semi-autonomous councils is worrying to some within the high command of Tyramon, with some even arguing that these may evolve into independance movements.
*** *** ***
On Aerlanica, the attempts to remove the toxic topsoil ultimately fails; as soon as they replace the topsoil with clean ground, a storm blows in and the rain replaces the chemicals in the land. It doesnt help that these teams often find themselves being used as impromptu target practice of the Final Authority.
The non-mutated cattle are killed either from Madylin's Final Authority's guerillas, the acid rain, inhailing fumes from the acidic rivers, drinking contaminated water, or dying from wildlife. Some fall dead, choking in close proximity of a sickly green deer that contaminates the air and soil around it, others are torn to shreds by a bear-like creature with terrifying spines potruding from it's back, and covered with bony armoured plates that shrug off most small arms fire. There are appearances from the Aerlanican Frost Wolf as well, which outsmarts some of the Armada's units even and hastily make meals of these cows, often even hearding the bovine beasts away. Perhaps the most curious death that befals these cows was an entire heard simply leaving the safety of the paddock, walking a kilometer to a cave, and marching inside in neat, orderly rows.
Many say Aerlanica is a waste of time, that the land is dead and should be left to rot.
The Royal Emperor breathed a sigh of relief and got back to work.
******
"Ask...who? They better be really powerful, because defeating a Sorcerer is extremely difficult."
******
All in all, the Royal Emperor considered everything happening in both the colony worlds and Aerlanica to be a massive success.
Fishing rods and hunting knives are provided, but everything else is in short supply at the moment. Building supplies were also in short supply on New Grendel, so log cabins become the only reasonable option. However, the settlers soon discover a syrupy sap that comes out of the wood when it is cut, making the wood a bit bothersome to work with.
Seeing how many Aerlanicans miss the mountains, the decision is made to allow a one-time-only option for settlers of New Grendel and New Hartia to permanently move to the third planet, which is extremely rocky and mountainous, with no option for return. The settlers that move there find the place to be extremely unpleasant. The planet is completely lifeless and the temperature never strays far above freezing. Small settlements have to be set up inside caves to take shelter from the snowstorms, and heat is provided by fuel-powered generators. However, as the first camp is being set up, an exposed vein of gold is found in the cave. The planet was rough but held potential for great wealth.
The Royal Emperor doesn't worry about the issue of independence movements. The planets had been carefully chosen, and as long as he controlled transportation he would control the people.
Similarly, the "failure" of the environmental work is ideal. The Tyramonians look like they are trying to help, but nothing actually gets better. The Royal Emperor laughs when he hears of the Aerlanican attacks on the Tyramonians working on the environment. The Aerlanicans are fools to oppose the Tyramonians when the Tyramonians are actually working to help Aerlanica.
The Priest frowns. "I could likely acquire what you need. In fact much of it is likely collecting dust downstairs. Allies though..."
Seeing him shake his head, Kat speaks up indignantly. "Well we got you, didn't we? Why not just do that again, but with you helping this time?"
Father Prunty scoffs at the idea. "I'm only with you because I'd rather not die. If not for the threat of death I'd never..."
He clamps his mouth shut, backpedaling frantically at Anna's raised eyebrow. "Um, well that's how is started anyway. I fully understand and agree with your arguments now, but originally I didn't. You'd have to kidnap and threaten everyone else you wanted to convert just like you did me."
▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪
Celeste takes a seat at the counter once Katrina finishes setting up. She waits for her host to join her before wrapping a few strands of spaghetti around a fork and tasting it, nodding approvingly at the savory dish.
"You apologize for serving leftovers, but this isn't half bad."
Taking another bite, Celeste sits there chewing a little awkwardly. Although a master of deception and manipulation, she never had quite mastered the art of small talk. Especially not in an intimate setting with another woman. "Sooo, uh, you're obviously pretty busy with being the head scrapper lady and all. Outside of that, what sorta... things do you... uh, enjoy doing?"
Continuing on, the Waste-Rangers make careful note of each patrol they pass. It's important they are able to identify each group as different as to not overestimate the number of enemy forces.
All six units slowly converge on the center of their designated areas, not knowing exactly what they're looking for but determining that any sort of building would be a good sign. As they move forward, the teams make sure to take advantage of their surroundings: the closer in they get, the more likely they are to get discovered.
Those navigating the overly wet southwest listen closely for the splashing of approaching soldiers while making sure to muffle their own movement sounds. The Rangers out in the flats move quickly from cover to cover, avoiding open areas for too long and surveying the land.
Pondering the implications of the road, the two teams coming down the hills meet up to discuss their plan of action. One of them continues in toward the heart of the operational area as planned, while the other splits off to follow the road in the direction the jeep had passed. It has to be both coming from and going to somewhere, and the second team of Rangers is determined to find out where.
They sat down with the rest of Ophelia's friends, whereupon Tabitha and Judy were, once again, arguing over whether or not cereal was a stew or a soup.
******
"Eziron, he is a big dragon, lord of everything."
******
In typical Aerlanican fashion, they begin to tap the sap and see if they can make alcohol out of it.
In no time at all, the gold is quickly stripped away and carted to be exported. Efforts are also made by the Aerlanicans to dig extremely deep into these mountains, burrowing away into the caves and dwelling far below the rock. The only thing they ever export is gold and silver, nothing else is given, and always in exchage for food and mining machinery.
Jonathan gave a nod. "I mean...you could always tell them I insulted the High Priest and got away with it...that's certainly a power to not challenge, Father Prunty, and you could also tell them that under technicality I own this entire city and planet now, due to a treaty I signed with your god."
He shrugged. "That would certainly be something to follow. Besides, I can also offer them crisp high-fives as well as a complete pardon from all the moral crimes they committed and believe me, when I finish what I have in mind of this lovely town they'll need it."
Father Prunty looked to Jonathan. "And if they refuse?"
The Prime Minister shrugged. "I'll...simply continue without them; working silently, but with a very big stick or, in this case, sword."
******
Katrina shrugged. "I cook, ah...I mean a lot of it is work but I cook, I'm trying to learn how to play the harp with emphasis on trying, read, play video games-" she gestured to the television, "-and...yeah...I guess i'm now a connoseur of skin-tight full body suits." She added with a chuckle.
She then looked at Celeste. "And...I'm also having a wonderful time being with you...it's...it get's lonely, sometime...just working a lot, and sure you can...meet online with people but, I just...It's..."
She reached across the table and grasped Celeste's hand. "It's nice to have someone in person who isn't just a boss or a friend, you know? Keeps you grounded, stops everything getting to your head or bringing you down...It's good to have someone."
She gave her a warm smile. "Also, good to check if my dinner is poisoned." She joked with a sly grin.
The current tally of troops, as numbered by the command staff, is somewhere between sixty and one hundred and twenty, with at least one jeep, maybe more. In the open field, the troops also come to a road, this time running in a roughly diagonal fashion towards the centre of the operation area. This road, as found by the north eastern group, reaches a T intersection with the other road before turning directly south. They have to hide from another jeep, adding four more men and another jeep to the confirmed tally.
Likewise, a clue comes to the Waste-Rangers currently wading through water; a boat slowly navagating through the waters betrays the presence of some dock as part of the base, crossing out the entire north east and placing the base somewhere along a thin strip of land where the wetlands meet the marsh.
Vara listened to the conversations and wondered what "gift" they had for her.
******
Corali paused. "Azerian? I...don't think he can help us...he isn't doing too well..."
******
Yeast is provided, and alcohol is achieved.
The Aerlanicans find a lot of various metals, but that is all. Being a lifeless world, there is no coal or oil. This also causes a power issue. Even if they had access to solar panels or wind turbines, the frequent, violent storms would make them ineffective and high-maintenance. They are reliant on imported fuel for warmth as well as running the rudimentary mining equipment that is provided. The Tyramonians demand other metals be exported as well, and trading prices for gold and silver are pitiful, not nearly enough to provide the food, fuel, and equipment the Aerlanican settlers need to survive and mine.
On New Hartia, the farming is a bit slow to start, as an irrigation system needs to be set up. There is water in a nearby river, but the construction takes time, and food is rationed.
Tyramon promotes the building of these colonies, showing off the progress and beauty and riches of the new worlds. At the same time, further food and supply shortages occur in Aerlanica, pushing Aerlanicans a bit closer to the promised prosperity of the colony worlds.
Carissa shrugs. “Mr Macky asked me to do this. He said that Kansas needs a new protector, that he’s dying... well, not really dying, since he’s technically not alive... although technically he’s not dead either...” she shrugs. “Anyways, he said that I could do something to help, to make sure no one ever has to go through what my family went through, to keep Kansas safe. He said it’s in our blood.”
(Tyramon I’ve skimmed through most of the thread with Eastrid and Corali and I’m not entirely sure how to jump back in there, I’ll keep an eye on it for now)
They kept the gift very close to their chests. Dinner was served with desert, and after this Harmony beckoned for the group to get together, apparently preparing to give Vara her gift. They asked for Vara to cover her eyes, with Judy making sure she did so.
"Ok, so...before we show you," Tabitha said with an uncharacteristic giggle, "we shall give you a few guesses."
Eastrid tilted her head, confused. She turns to Ken. "We need to help Eziron." She said in her headstrong, frank look.
Corali looked to Eastrid, and frowned; she wouldn't even be able to say a single word of ultimatum to Delegata before she was evaporated, destroyed, annihilated, or otherwise killed. However her defiance was admirable...if dangerous.
******
In the forest region, they make the first bars, growing merry and happy. Shortening of food supplies is no problem whatsoever, and rationing ensures everyone gets what is needed.
In the mines, they continue tunneling deeper and deeper into the rocky core of the planet, obviously seeking to reach the geothermal warmth of the planet's mantle, while also exporting the metal as necessary. Food is heavily rationed, but once again, the Aerlanicans have experience with "making do" and "Getting by" and while they are definately malnourished, they are still work dilligently.
The Hartians, natual farmers and many of them coming from long farming traditions already become well underway, preparing several fields to rotate crops and keep a steady stream of food coming into the colonies. But, some of the crops are withheld with the aim of hiking prices and getting more "bang" for their "buck".
In Aerlanica proper, however, many of the Aerlanicans simply make do with malnourishment and shortage of supplies, after all, during the Civil War there was a noticable collapse of civilian industry, and the Aerlanicans are no stranger to having poor access to food and supplies, and living off little.
(how intense is the security on the transports to the colonies? If i may ask.)
"Well, in old Aerlanican folklore," Tsarina said, "Ghosts are remnant souls who stay behind trying to fufill a purpose they have yet to complete...maybe Macky is...finishing what he's been left on Kansas to do. That, or his batteries are running low."
William nodded. "Hey...walk with me for a bit, hey? I took up arms to defend my country as well."
He held out a hand.
Meanwhile, Harold frowned; perhaps the tree was right after all?
Vara was not particularly used to such friendly groups, so suffice to say, she did find this all a bit weird.
"Oh...hmm...okay, is it...a dress or clothing of some sort? Or...some sort of decoration for my room, a poster perhaps? Or...I don't know...a...sword?"
******
"I don't think there is much we can do. I don't even know where Azerian is, or really what has happened to him."
******
Over time, attempts at advertising the colonies fell to simply showing pictures of the landscape and of the towns. Communication with the settlements began to diminish, and news no longer really traveled between them.
On New Grendel, some of the heaviest drinkers began to be ill, surprisingly even vomiting after drinking sometimes.
In the mines, mining equipment was lackluster and frequently broke, and reaching geothermal heat was a long way off - longer than they knew, as the planet was not very geologically active and geothermal heat was far less than it was on Augusta.
On New Hartia, as crops start to grow, the Aerlanicans realize that the crops are infected and begin to die off. Quarantining does little, as the disease seems to be very widespread, infecting roughly 90% of the crops already.
In Aerlanica proper, many Aerlanicans are unable to make do, as there simply isn't enough food to sustain themselves. Starvation sets in in many areas, and all the while security remains tight.
(Intense. Soldiers - mostly robotic - keep constant watch over the Aerlanicans, who are transported in a cargo container that is not connected to the ship. Passengers are searched for weapons and illegal tools. They are not allowed any cargo beyond what they carry on their backs; the Tyramonians cite "weight limitations" of the transports.)
Carissa glances at Connie, who gives a little nod. Then she takes William’s hand and disappears into the hallway with him.
Aerlanica “Yeah, sorry Eastrid,” Luca says. “I gotta agree with Corali here. I really just don’t think there’s much that we can do to help.” Ken tilts his head. “There’s gotta be something.” He looks at Eastrid. “Where would we even start?”
Latest Forum Threads