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I've been giving this some thought, and I've decided to poll the thread: There's been a significant number of updates to ganbreeder/artbreeder since the inception of this thread. I have kept to a set of art assets out of ease, style, and tradition.  A part of me does, however, think that there may be potential for some of the newer, more "realistic" portraits and settings.  So here's a vote: 1.) Keep to the traditional style of generated images used so far. 2.) Keep present portraits/graphics but introduce new ones with new Artbreeder graphics. 3.) Overhaul the graphics! The "New Look, Same Great Beaten Taste!" option. 4.) Who gives a thox? Make a decision yourself for once, Brawnfire.
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Jan 17, 2020 18:52
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3>2
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Jan 17, 2020 22:45
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4, and give us dem Boons. What does creeps have to offer us? Gold? Magic/tech items? Knowledge? The perfect burger?
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Jan 18, 2020 02:23
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Well drat, didn't expect a 4 vote. Serves me for putting it in!
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Jan 18, 2020 04:58
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Wondering if we could just ask for a boon/promise that has to be fulfilled when we ask for it but save it for later?
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Jan 18, 2020 08:51
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3, and this may be because I just watched the Witcher, but I want the law of surprise, specifically the neutral law, "You will grant me whatever unexpected thing you encounter when you return home." OR "The first thing that comes to greet you."
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Jan 18, 2020 10:29
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Outrail posted:4, and give us dem Boons. Serves you right  Also we chould demand her first born but babysitting would be a crap CYOA.
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Jan 18, 2020 17:33
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Says you, we could get a rapidly age kickass fantasy baby.
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Jan 20, 2020 02:39
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 HBar posted:How can you say the constructors are tomorrow's problem? It's today's problem to all the people and places getting consumed by them. Except... we're in the past, right? Is this a time before the constructors? Is there something else we need to be worried about here? “It is most difficult to explain in terms you would understand. There are ideas for every time, and time for every idea. The Constructors are a problem that affects all times, of course, but all times are not aware of the nature of the problem.”  “Then surely, making them aware of it would give them more time to fight, to come up with a solution.” insists Skooch.  “There is much to the Manifest you do not understand. The topographical nature--suffice it to say, given the wellspring from which all this is formed, ignorance is like having a roof over one’s head in a storm. What they don’t know, in other words, can’t hurt them.”  }that sounds absurd to me{ Oznob says. }this is the entire multiverse we’re talking about, here. Of course they’ll be destroyed by the Constructors along with the rest{ “There are many Factors. There is Time. There is Decision. There is Belief. There is Knowledge. There is Metadistance.”  “Should I even ask what Metadistance is?” Kalk inquires, rubbing his head as if staving off a headache. “Like, I’m all down for big concepts and stuff when I’m tripping but dang, guys. Could we dial down the crazy jargon for my sake?” “Metadistance is a simple way of naming the resulting “gaps” in various permutations of the Manifest as resultant from the Factors and how those affect the relative nearness of branching worldlines and their pre- and post-histories. This determines things such as annulus formation, aperture stability, rebinding, sympathetic parallelization, mutual deviation, memetic braiding, et cetera.” Kalk is already inhaling deeply of more shweeshy, seemingly having given up on the whole discussion. “Thanks,” he coughs. }you’re not just a Prophet, are you?{ asks Oznob. “You’re a perceptive one, little monkey. No, it’s simply an easy way to present myself and my messages and works. But clearly you’re not as impressed by such things, so I’ll pull back the curtain a little. I am a guardian, of sorts; I protect what can be protected. I am able to do this because I have a certain understanding of how things work. But my abilities are subtle. I am able to turn away the eyes of enemies, I am able to influence the minds of humans with careful words. As Vuldon, I have protected this time from the Constructors, as a bulwark against their influence. But your presence threatens that. I beg of you, return to the time in which you belong; my powers do not extend to undoing your damage.” }believe me, I didn’t bring us to this time on purpose. A bunch of stupid things happened in a row and screwed me over, as usual. But I’m pretty sure we’re trapped here. I have no idea how to make this machine work in reverse, and even if I did there’s no lightmake in this caravan as far as I can tell{ “I will send you guides.” Vuldon says, pendulously. “Those who hear my voice and know my works will come to you and take you where you need to go to right this. But be wary, because there is another who seeks to lead you astray.” “Who is that?” Skooch asks, concernedly. “I do not know, little Drejj, but I fear they may be more powerful than I am able to protect you against. I am unable to ascertain the hand behind the game pieces, but their moves have been subtle and effective.” “Awesome.” says Skooch. He’s clearly getting a little tired of how unstraightforward everything is becoming. More and more, he’d just like to go Home, to fix things up with his family, to…  Skooch blinks and looks around. He sees the others look similarly baffled. They are all holding very small rocks. }that was a particularly good marblebright trip{ “So that was, like, it?” Kalk asks, surprised. “Ain’t a comedown or nothing?” Oznob notices with amusement that he’s stacked up a pretty tall, elegant tower of rocks. In fact as he looks closer, the four of them seem to have constructed a fairly complex concentrically circular communal stone structure, with Oznob’s tower at the center, and a smaller tower towards one perimeter. “This is pretty cool.” says Kalk, appreciatively. “Although it appears we were less than helpful in the rock clearing process.” hOodevar comments. The others of the Directji were rapidly working, hoisting stones and shuffling them aside. “I hope they aren’t cross with us.” “We did our part.” Skooch shrugs, lazily. “You! You lot! What in the backwards rear end do you think you’re doing?”  A haggard old man comes skittering around boulders like a desert crab. His beard waggles like a pennant as he jaws at nothing, taking in the rock-clearers with a glowering gaze. “Just clearing a path for our caravan,” replies hOodevar. There’s a ripple of laughter among the Directji who are actually working; hOodevar appears somewhat abashed. “Do you know how much work it took to block off this pass? No, get the unholy Squiv out of here, I won’t have you undoing this!” The old man raves, waving a gnarly piece of wood around in time with his cadence. “We gotta get through here,” says hOodevar, irritated. “Why have you blocked this pass?” “To force people stop at the Shrine of Vuldon’s Guiding Hand, that’s why!” says the old man, seeming to brighten suddenly as a topic of interest arose. “Among these stalwart boulders is the greatest and most divine of all the relics in Vuldendom; Vuldon’s hand with which He performed His Blessed Miracles!” “Beastbeest poo poo!” says Skooch, bluntly. An awkward stillness hangs in the air, centered on Skooch. “I mean, right?” says Skooch. “He can’t have Vuldon’s hand, we just saw Vuldon and he said nothing about anything like that.” “He said he’d like, send us guides and stuff. Guiding Hand, man?” Kalk replies. }keep in mind, we were under the influence of drugs--{ “The greatest Prophets and Seers of the times of miracles always were!” says hOodevar, making a great point albeit not actually in his favor. 1.) Ignore the old man, and continue clearing rocks. 2.) Let’s see this Shrine. 3.) Write in: 
Brawnfire fucked around with this message at 17:56 on Jan 27, 2020 |
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Jan 26, 2020 17:16
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2. Can't tell if this is legit or this guy is one of the tricksters, but it'll be interesting either way.
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Jan 27, 2020 01:26
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HBar posted:2. Can't tell if this is legit or this guy is one of the tricksters, but it'll be interesting either way. yeah, this exactly!
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Jan 27, 2020 01:52
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Boba Pearl posted:5. Ask it for Boons If there are additional thoughts as to a boon to ask for, now would be the time because another Seagone edition is dropping tonight! Edit: Okay, I lied, it'll have to be tomorrow. Brawnfire fucked around with this message at 06:32 on Feb 6, 2020 |
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Feb 5, 2020 22:37
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 Brawnfire posted:The first thing that catches your eye is the brilliance of the stars. The sky is still so dark in this early morning hour, and the moon is a fraction of a gasp. Tomorrow night, the new moon will arrive… HBar posted:4. If the thing has supernatural awareness, or passive defenses, or if Godonya isn't instantly killed or the link isn't instantly severed, we're dead. If the attack succeeds, we'll be safe for the moment, but the entity didn't die with the captain and it won't die with Godonya. It could find another conduit at any time and come back for us when we least expect it.  “Strange-looking star, isn’t that?” you remark, addressing the possessed Godonya across the deck. Your voice cuts cleanly through the crisp early morning air. “You made an excellent choice, just now.” she replies. “Beg pardon?” “I could feel you wrestling with indecision. I presented a tempting opportunity to you, did I not?” “I figured you probably’d see things I can’t fathom. I don’t need my rear end kicked.” “Interestingly enough, fragile one, I am not without my limitations; had you actually caught me unawares you could have killed this body and ended my quest.” “Godonya doesn’t deserve that. I hope you will release her when you finish whatever it is you need her for. She’s just a girl… as far as I’m aware.” You’re not entirely sure how much of her story was true, but she never struck you as anything but innocent and young, a victim of circumstance. Her possession gave you no right to take her life. “Just as well. My servant here would have killed you where you stand a second after you attacked me.” “Your servant?” Confused, you turn to see Waveskeeter brandishing a weapon behind you. “What’s the meaning of this?” you demand, whirling on the possessed Godonya.  “Sorry Cap’n, she’s only just gone an’ got control of me mind, on account of--” “--the fish in your brain.” you sigh, connecting the dots. “Yes, your human minds are so full of--” Godonya says the following word with utmost bitterness: “--willpower. It’s far too much an effort to control you. But this one…” She circles Waveskeeter like a squid, reaching out one tentacle finger to raise Skeeter’s chin. His dumb eyes look back, utterly starved for the Godonya’s will to obey. “Already suppressed by another, weaker mind. One so easy to dominate.” “You can’t just go about thralling--thrallifying?--ENTHRALLING members of my crew.” Godonya fixes you with a withering glare. “Since before this moment you have been so cooperative with my demands, I shall grant you a boon. You may ask one thing of me, and it will be granted.” You scoff. “How do I know you’ll have any intention of honoring it?” Her eyes flash and she stands up straight, expression smoldering. She addresses you like she's dressing down an impertinent slave. “I am a creature of an Honor beyond what you plankton refer to as honor. Do not insult me.” The sea swirls dangerously, and foam spits up onto the deck. “Ask what you will, but be quick, before I rescind my gratitude.” 1.) Release Waveskeeter from his thrall. 2.) Release Godonya when we arrive at Outerlock. 3.) Guarantee my safety after I have delivered you. 4.) Tell me the fate of my mother. 5.) Grant me [something else] (write in):  ☸ Jump to First Seagone Post ☸ Jump to Ship's Inventory Post ☸ Map
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Feb 10, 2020 21:30
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5.) Grant me powers the strength of 10,000 men, and the power to read men's minds.
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Feb 10, 2020 23:47
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1. Waveskeeter is a risk while he's enthralled, we can't let him stay like this and we can't just abandon him either. We want Godonya safe too but she comes second to Waveskeeter, and there's no telling who the spirit will jump into instead. The idea of "safety" sounds like even more of a monkeys paw kind of wish, the only way she can guarantee our safety in a dangerous place like Outerlock is to keep us under her control. And I don't want the spirit to make any kind of connection to our mother.
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Feb 11, 2020 02:33
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 Brawnfire posted:“We’re going to die in these alien tunnels!” screeches Szyrkle, at full volume. HBar posted:2. We'd need some kind of flamethrower or bomb or something if we wanted to fight these things, and if we just run deeper without anything to guide us we'd probably get lost. Stoner Sloth posted:Agreed. 2 definitely sounds like the best option.  A groove scooped out of the cool metal pendant accepts the pad of your thumb. As if stirred to life, the pendant exudes a flesh-warmth and begins to pulse, to twitch irritably. Its green gems glitter. At once, a solid stone wall nearby becomes diaphanous, evaporating like the dawn’s mist. In its stead, a precisely-cut doorway. A shimmering orb of cherry-pink light coalesces in the space, suggestion limbs gesturing doorward.  So, these Three Mothers are masters of illusion, you realize. You wonder how much of the space around you is under their illusory spell. Were the tunnels themselves even real? Perhaps you aren’t even below the ground. Who knows, anymore? You restrain a giddy laugh. Everything’s just insane. You’d barely had a moment’s reprieve from horrific Morani tortures before you were on the run for your life. Every moment since has been crisis after crisis. And now a wave of flesh-eating bugs pours out of the walls in a chittering silver sheet, between you and the doorway to escape. Were you cursed? Was any of this real at all!? You briefly entertain the notion that this has all been some horrible simulation, another Constructor-make nightmare the Morani have been running you through. Suddenly, everything feels very grey around you, as if not only the walls but reality itself is static--  “OW!!! DROCKING SQUIV!” you scream, as the horrible little creature begins to burrow into your ankle. Reality reasserts itself brazenly on your consciousness, and you see the insect-ish creatures are climbing your boots, trying to get at your flesh. Your phaseblade moves at a far faster clip than your mind, sweeping the bug that bites you from your ankle, then proceeding on a spiral of death. A perimeter cleared, you begin sweeping a path through the pestilent tide towards the doorway and its guiding light. The creatures seem to pour endlessly from the rock. You can hear your compatriots loudly complain in their individual manners as their feet and legs are assaulted. Too late a thought occurs to you: “Pick up the Risthi!” you shout to Shaggar. You make you way towards the nearest of the two diminutive aliens, Isentch, sweeping around you with the phaseblade the whole way. Your mind is running hot; you remember Meester Chrumbeart, your religious studies teacher, with his overlarge buttocks and propensity for sitting chair reversed, legs spread obscenely wide. You recall a lesson Chrumbeart clearly found quite elucidating on some point or another about the sanctity of life, regarding a religious tradition whose adherents would sweep the path before them to avoid treading upon any living creature. Lookit me now, Chrumbeart! I’m a reverse whatever-those-people-were-called! I sweep a path of death! The manic laughter is pouring out of you now, and it feels GOOD. You’re all about this, suddenly, really leaning into just laying waste. Drock these bugs, drock everyone that’s made your life a living Squiv, drock the Beaten Lands! And especially, especially… DROCK. The. MORANI! They’ll taste your phaseblade, and die like these predatory little insects, because that’s all they ever were. You’re running through the doorway, Isentch slung over your shoulder, events like scenes in a strobe light, you don’t remember the moments that came before the very present.  “DERVIS!” you hear, screamed at the top of Shaggar’s lungs. You whirl about to see him dancing around, smashing the bugs in the near vicinity of Szyrkle but unable to reach them. The creatures are pouring up Szyrkle’s agonized form like quicksilver.  “Szyrkle!” shouts Isentch, desperately. “Help Szyrkle! Save them please!” 1.) Try to help Szyrkle. 2.) Help Shaggar escape, Szyrkle cannot be helped. 3.) No way are you going back in there. Keep running. 4.) Write in:  Inventory Characters Map POV Character Overview Glossary of Terms Elsewhere in the Beaten Lands [A concurrent CYOA]
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Feb 18, 2020 21:17
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HBar fucked around with this message at 06:17 on Feb 19, 2020 |
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Feb 19, 2020 03:53
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HBar posted:2. No way are we giving up on the little guy. Just to clarify, that option is to attempt to help Shaggar but NOT Szyrkle. It sounds as though you may want to help Szyrkle?
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Feb 19, 2020 05:41
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1 - leave noone behind if possible!
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Feb 19, 2020 06:03
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Brawnfire posted:Just to clarify, that option is to attempt to help Shaggar but NOT Szyrkle. It sounds as though you may want to help Szyrkle?
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Feb 19, 2020 06:19
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Obviously, The Beaten Lands is on a little bit of a hiatus. I hope to come back to our adventures soon, but I just wanted to drop in and let you know I haven't forgotten you. I hope everyone's doing great!
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Apr 22, 2020 04:00
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Thanks to those who have followed the Beaten Lands adventures in this thread so far. You're probably the same people as the other thread, but regardless. Anyhow, if the negative view of our forum's fate is proven correct, I hope to see most of you wherever The Beaten Lands is reborn. Otherwise, I look forward to starting things back up after the poo poo and the fan part ways.
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Jun 25, 2020 18:21
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Brawnfire posted:Thanks to those who have followed the Beaten Lands adventures in this thread so far. You're probably the same people as the other thread, but regardless. For sure, hope to read more soon - also not sure if it helps but there is a forum scraper tool that copies the contents of threads and archives them for you. https://github.com/Fumblemouse/SA-Archiving-Tool
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Jun 26, 2020 00:52
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Stoner Sloth posted:For sure, hope to read more soon - also not sure if it helps but there is a forum scraper tool that copies the contents of threads and archives them for you. Thanks, I'm all arranged for archiving already but I appreciate you thinking this is worth it 😘
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Jun 26, 2020 00:58
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Brawnfire posted:Thanks, I'm all arranged for archiving already but I appreciate you thinking this is worth it 😘 No worries friend and glad you already got it under control, really enjoyed the Beaten Lands and hope that they continue wherever we all end up! Also hope you're staying safe and doing okay!
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Jun 26, 2020 01:14
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Beaten Lands Second-Hand: A Beaten Lands Miniventure Well, this is it. A dream is about to come true for one lucky denizen of the Beaten Lands: a retail space has opened up! Finally, after years of post-apocalyptic toil, this diligent fellow will take the reins of small business. How exciting! But who is this person? A human? One of the Drejj? Or an altogether different race from some strange, adjacent reality? A.) Human: Your everyday human from anyplace; their most defining feature is usually a hat and some mutation or disease. They are quite adaptable, which means they can contort themselves into miserable positions in order to stay alive.  B.) Drejj: Technically human, we think, but most people set them apart. They seem a good deal cleverer than most humans, for the most part, but their anarchic spirit does tend to keep them out of the seats of power. This likely won’t be an issue for a shop-keep.  C.) iO Shiamara: These folks come from another reality! Isn’t that bonkers? Anyhow, they usually are quite technologically adept, albeit a weird type of technology they call “ultrinking”. It looks like computers on psilocybin. Retail in the Beaten Lands is probably slumming it for an iO Shiamara, but everyone has their reasons for where they end up.  D.) Doraldnki: Squat, fleshy, and impatient, these creatures are refugees from an invaded reality. Now they’re here to make a buck and keep themselves from ending up dead on the streets. They are often unpopular with humans. They seem to be able to do far more in a day than most other peoples.  E.) Klohdds: Big and dumb and usually employed for violence, Klohdds have a bit of trouble keeping up in the Beaten Lands. Maybe settling down with a quiet shop would keep this Klohdd out of trouble. We’ll see.  F.) The Balounk: Thin, sickly, and with one nostril, The Balounk were nearly genocided out of their homeland in their own reality, only to get to watch with grim satisfaction from the doorway as the reality was itself invaded by Constructors. Balounk are quiet and professional, going about their business so long as nobody talks to them. Then they’re rather difficult to get along with. 
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Oct 24, 2020 22:18
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Welcome back! Obvious answer B, interesting answer C, so... Vote C
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Oct 24, 2020 23:06
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D, I could really see Jored'l'm or one of his kin being a shopkeeper.
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Oct 24, 2020 23:20
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D
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Oct 25, 2020 02:09
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glad you're continuing Brawnfire! voting for D too, they're all interesting options tho
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Oct 25, 2020 02:55
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Thanks! Pleased to be back. I was sort of waiting to see if the forums would explode, implode, or begin rapidly vacillating between the two like a pulsar. Also, now my second child has been born I will be spending many hours in quiet rooms with nothing to do but look at him, so I'll need lots of typing to distract me! I'm hoping this adventure will be fun; you may recognise the idea as one that's been bubbling around in my mind for a while: Brawnfire posted:I was more than a little tempted to run a CYOA of a shopkeep somewhere in the Beaten Lands, once. Stoner Sloth posted:That would be an awesome set up for an RPG in the Beaten Lands - players having to run to different realities fetching stuff to sell and trying to Pustulio posted:You'd have to have contacts with a huge network of other NPC's to get an idea of what they main character is like so you can customize your stock, is he murdering his way through the world? Hire the most badass guard around and stock up on weapons, is he sweet talking everyone? Jack your prices way up so you can still make a profit when he bargains you down, is he curiously obsessed with a lizard thing and refuses to call people by their correct names? Find all the weirdest poo poo you can. That could be pretty fun actually. I decided to see what I could do with these ideas!
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Oct 25, 2020 04:47
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Brawnfire posted:Thanks! Pleased to be back. I was sort of waiting to see if the forums would explode, implode, or begin rapidly vacillating between the two like a pulsar. Also, now my second child has been born I will be spending many hours in quiet rooms with nothing to do but look at him, so I'll need lots of typing to distract me! yeah it was all a little up in the air there for a while to say the least. more importantly congratulations!! and glad you're back, looking forwards to the adventure!
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Oct 25, 2020 05:53
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I was gonna post last night, but I'm having a lot of trouble making Doraldnki images! I was hoping to spin off my original but the site is not letting me do that. SO! I apologize if your Doraldnki characters end up looking weird or different than Jored'l'm. If anyone's capable of making some variants visually similar to Jored'l'm, let me know and I'll reward you! Post should be up tonight.
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Oct 31, 2020 15:50
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Beaten Lands Second-Hand Chapter 1: Another Day, Another DRA Rojor’n’w thumbs through the classifieds section of the Pondskipper Caller, his tacky digits fidgeting with the edges of the newspaper. Nothing, nothing, nothing, not a single property he could find listed as available. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. There were plenty available, but those all bore the unmistakable DRA, for “Doraldnki may Refrain from Applying,” the catchy euphemism favored by the Caller at present. In the section of Port Pondskipper quietly demarcated for Doraldnki to practice their commerce with "legal protection", there were no storefronts available whatsoever. “Still looking, eh, my son?” laughs a rusty voice. Mori’a’w, Rojor’n’w’s father, waddles into the kitchen. “It is good to dream, no?” he says into the ice cupboard as he fetches a blue glass bottle and opens the cap with a twist and a *psst*. Flicking the cap between his digits, he sends the metal circle flying. “It would be better to live it.” Moans Rojor’n’w. “This town’s so kavelxing bigoted, it’s impossible to find anything I can even apply for. And Itty Bitty Doraldnki is packed to the rafters, there’s no way anything opens up unless I kill the owner.” “Ay, there’s a solution!” chortles Mori’a’w. “I know just the guy, too! Charged me for a side of vonta sauce with my wothocakes. Me! Paying! For a little tiny fabrex cup of vonta sauce! This big!” He holds up his digits a fraction of an inch apart, for inaccurate emphasis. “I could be selling vonta sauce to chumps for a markup!” cries out Rojor’n’w, his digits massaging his cranial glands. Even the warm sensation of hirwim flowing into his brainfluid didn’t seem enough to calm him, however. Mori’a’w looks thoughtful as he sips his brew, and lets out an appropriately thoughtful belch. “You’re really serious about this, huh?” “Dad, it’s all I can think about. I’ve got all these ideas, I just need a place!” “Alright kid. I got something that may work out for you. But I don’t want you to get too excited.” Rojor’n’w freezes, and turns fully towards his father. “Go on.” He says, urgently, his breathing heavy. “Good, nice and calm. Roj, I got a friend who owes me a bit of a favor. He might not remember, but he’ll definitely remember when I remind him.” “Who is this?” asks Rojor’n’w, curiously. “Someone from way back. Not something we need to talk about, son, those days are over and thank the Three Lesiums for that. But the favor remains. I will give you something, and you need to bring it to a Dr. Larid’n’m in the offices at 201 Crematorium Boulevard. Don’t open it, just give it to the doctor when you see him. Don’t give it to anyone else, either, just him. Then tell him what you want.” Rojor’n’w stares wide-eyed at his father. “What- what do I want?” Mori’a’w raises a hand to his head, spreading his digits as if gingerly nursing a sudden pain. “Songs of the Forgotten, you absolute kreftonski! You want a damned shop to run!” “poo poo! Sorry, dad” Rojor’n’w mutters shamefacedly, “I guess I’m just excited. You think he’ll be able to help me out?” “He’ll have to, Roj, don’t worry.” Replies Mori’a’w. A.) Rojor'n'w should take the parcel to Larid'n'm and receive father's favor. B.) A "favor" smells fishy, even for Port Pondskipper. Rojor'n'w should try more honest means first. Keep looking. C.) Hit the street, Rojor'n'w! Newspapers aren't where opportunity knocks, you gotta go up to doors! D.) Actually, murder's not a bad idea. Brawnfire fucked around with this message at 06:18 on Nov 9, 2020 |
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Nov 1, 2020 04:50
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A. Of course it's fishy, that's the only way anything gets done here.
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Nov 1, 2020 05:48
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HBar posted:A. Of course it's fishy, that's the only way anything gets done here.
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Nov 1, 2020 06:14
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A But read the message first once we're out of sight of dad and have a convenient dark alley for privacy.
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Nov 1, 2020 10:34
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simplefish posted:A Disagree with this respectfully. This could be a test and we might be being watched to see if we're suitable to join a 'legitimate buisnessperson's society'. Think we can trust that good old dad wouldn't send us to be executed directly.
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Nov 1, 2020 11:01
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I don't think we're off to be offed. I think we're curious (But yeah vote the way you feel, that's the point od the thread vote  )
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Nov 1, 2020 11:42
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simplefish posted:I don't think we're off to be offed. That is fair. Really glad the Beaten Lands are back!
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Nov 1, 2020 11:52
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