В хронике моей... / In the Chronicle of Mine: 4.

4.

Camrad_RIP 11.05.26 в 11:42

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Camrad_RIP 11.05.26 в 11:42

A whole range of positions is generally considered to be the most grueling work in rift mines in general, and in such “partially wild” mines with hostile environments in particular. It depends on the type of mine, the workforce, and the nature of the management. And yet Ptakh is almost certain that his job duties will also fall under this definition—he didn’t even try very hard to make that happen. All it took was to demonstratively ignore the hint from the shift foreman, the venerable master Luvy, that all accidentally found pieces of active ore, insignificant and small caches (he wouldn’t be able to spot any others anyway—he lacks the step, the observation, and the luck), as well as other valuable items, should be handed over not via an inventory but to him personally.

Camrad_RIP 11.05.26 в 12:33

Pretending to be a naive, law-abiding fool turned out to be surprisingly easy, as if I’d gone back to my very first job at a government office, where it’s actually easier to pretend to be a complete moron than to deal with the bosses—the kind whose thinking is structured in a rigid, boxed-in way, as they say. He simply agreed right away and eagerly asked for a corresponding written order or one certified by a quest, which Master Luvy, for some reason, didn’t want to provide. When threatened with being sent to do the kind of work an Earthling is doing right now, he just smiled and thanked him, pretending he was even glad. Because he wasn’t pretending. This way, he’ll actually level up his Fortitude faster, which is traditionally even harsher in the side tunnels and adits, since they don’t even bother cleaning it out there. As you might guess, rituals and active skills, as well as system abilities to control the dungeon, are used exclusively in the central parts of the mine, since that’s cheaper. Why pay more if you don’t have to? If the only cost is the health and lives of scum, that nobody needs?

Camrad_RIP 11.05.26 в 12:36

So, they looked at Ptakh as if he were an idiot and, with glee, let him go crash himself against the wall since he was so uncooperative; they even held him up as an example to the rest of his colleagues. As if to say, “This is exactly what will happen to you if you start acting up and don’t listen to the wise master, you powerless serfs.” And the Earthling? He took a winding route to check the scanning cores installed by the chief Ore Expert of the entire mine, Master Uggi himself. The Earthling hadn’t yet looked this very master in the eye, but he already respected him, roughly understanding exactly why he held his position.

Camrad_RIP 11.05.26 в 12:37

The eleventh step, plus two Trials he’d passed in the Guild that accepted him, plus all three of his starting points—he’d invested them all in his primary skill of High quality, which was nothing less than a ticket to the nobility. “Enchanter Ore-Reader,” that is. In fact, his entire build is centered on this skill, which the venerable master and guild magister (an equivalent of non-hereditary nobility in terms of privileges, albeit without actual nobility, distinguished solely by guild and artisan bigwigs) makes no secret of, enhancing his active talents with the necessary passive traits. All of this is to bring together his best combination: “native pickaxe” from a Worthy “Miner,” “signal interpretation” from an average “Expert,” as well as “long-range communication,” “vein control,” “stone memory,” and “ore intuition” from that very “Enchanter Ore Expert.” Moreover, he most likely didn’t invest just one point in each of these talents, but these are merely Ptakh’s suspicions, which cannot be pinned to the case.

Camrad_RIP 11.05.26 в 12:41

But now he can work with a pickaxe for a couple of hours in the mine, and then, for a month, use his ability to sense deposits of anything valuable—not only personally and around him, but also through the pickaxe left behind in the tunnel. Not as powerfully and not within such a wide radius, but he constantly keeps in mind a map of the deposits of ethereal materials, which, as is known, often migrate and move along with the currents of forces, especially in dungeons, that is, in rifts. Today there was a rich vein here, and tomorrow it’s already gone, and you have to search, spending time, strength, health, and the efforts of the cover teams that cut out the creatures from the lower levels, while also guarding the very best miners who naturally go on raids for ore to those lower levels, extracting it under enemy fire.

Camrad_RIP 11.05.26 в 12:44

Sometimes literally.

Camrad_RIP 11.05.26 в 12:44

These magical pickaxes, transformed into those very scanning cores through a combination of active and passive skills, form the basis of the local sensory system for ore mining. It seems like an open secret, but Master Uggi doesn’t spill the beans over a beer about the deeper and truly valuable details and secrets of the method he uses. While he doesn’t hide the foundation of his power—which is why, in his short time on the job, Ptakh managed to learn that “secret” from the chatterboxes during lunch break—he never revealed any of the more specific details. Ptakh knows nothing more than that obvious, terrifying secret and his own job duties.

Camrad_RIP 11.05.26 в 12:48

The duties turned out to be dangerous, but essentially quite simple—simple enough to take on fresh recruits with absolutely no experience. The runners, one of whom the Earthling had become, dashed through winding tunnels, skirting bubbling green puddles capable of corroding boots in a day, dodging the lazily drifting transparent-gray clouds of ethereal mist that would eat away at the lungs in a couple of breaths, leaping over the sparks of energy lightning snaking across the rock, capable of making a skeleton as brittle as glass. They ran, checking, among other things, the ritual circles carved directly into the rock, in the center of which stood a faintly vibrating pickaxe-plectrum that would not fall.

Camrad_RIP 11.05.26 в 12:49

Come, check the condition of the ritual circle, make sure it’s in good condition and not running low, sprinkle it with the issued crystalline dust, not even sand, but the cost-saving measure is clear here; the ritual is short-lived on its own, so there’s no point in splurging, strengthening the ritual’s foundation, then rushing off to the next location. Nod to the workers, answer a couple of questions, check three more pickaxes, account for the dust—God forbid you try to pocket even a handful without being a godfather, brother, or matchmaker—and then back to square one. The work is primitive, mindless, exhausting, and on top of that, highly dangerous, especially if you encounter some powerful anomaly in the tunnels or a stray mob missed by the cleanup crew that clears the mine every few days, as the hour of chaos, the hour of the coming, strikes. Or, to put it simply, right after the mobs spawn.

Camrad_RIP 11.05.26 в 12:51

If something is wrong with the pickaxe or the ritual, he doesn’t do anything about it himself. Of course, no one would let him touch such a valuable item with his dirty hands anyway. He simply reports it to the shift supervisor at the central station, where the runners are assigned, and the supervisor calls in a ritual specialist. They don’t send just this one guy, by the way; they assign a couple of men to provide backup. Not exactly professional warriors with a combat build, but still capable of splitting a mutated rat’s skull with a pickaxe. Everyone here carries a weapon, even non-combatants, and Ptak is no exception, though he’s never once drawn his cleaver from its sheath, preferring not to take any chances.

Camrad_RIP 11.05.26 в 17:38

He doesn’t take risks at work either, reporting the depletion of rituals the moment he sees signs of it—as described in a small booklet on two yellowed pages, stained with snot and something resembling dried, bloody vomit. Thanks to the system, he is fluent in the local script of the All-Unified Language, as well as his own literacy, which allowed him to understand what was written. The Isekais, who could not read in their past lives, will be just as illiterate in this one, too, unless one counts their understanding of their own Chronicle. However, for such people, the guidebook had plenty of schematic illustrations, which took up most of the pages.

Camrad_RIP 11.05.26 в 17:40

The fact that he doesn’t take risks really rubs the shift supervisors the wrong way, because a weakened ritual is their failure, one for which their daily pay is slightly reduced. But if the runner himself fails to notice the problem, so the pickaxe is discharging quickly, or rather, faster than normal, depriving the venerable Master Uggi of yet another beacon—then that’s the runner’s screw-up. The first time, Ptakh made a mistake by not verifying the log entry, which is why he was very surprised that he, so to speak, hadn’t reported anything to Senior Varavva. A third of his monthly pay was docked, but now he meticulously checks the entry in the core inspection log every time, which greatly annoys the esteemed Varavva. He can’t just scribble some gibberish illegibly and send the annoying runner away.

Camrad_RIP 11.05.26 в 18:11

Due to a very tight schedule—one that differs greatly from what was originally proposed (special conditions, yes, he remembers it all)—he’ll soon have to spend the night in the rift mine. In a different situation, it would be nice to breathe in the energy-filled air to speed up leveling, but in his current situation, he had to spend extra money on unnecessary stopper potions. For him, a randomly chosen level is now even more dangerous than an unfinished Chronicle filled with empty slots.

Camrad_RIP 11.05.26 в 18:14

It might have seemed as if he had fallen into hell with no way out.

Camrad_RIP 11.05.26 в 12:51

In a way, that is exactly what happened.

Camrad_RIP 11.05.26 в 12:52

But inside, Ptakh was smiling. The plan Avaris had proposed was working, and had already brought him part of what he’d come here to achieve. And it wasn’t about the seventeen points of Fortitude, nor the fifteen points of Meditation he’d developed—no. The point was that his Chronicle was no longer so empty, for some of the slots that had previously gaped with emptiness for skill acquisition had been successfully filled with exactly what he wanted to put in the Chronicle. Or rather, he didn’t exactly want it, but he had been successfully convinced that this was exactly what he wanted—if, of course, he also wanted to live.

Camrad_RIP 11.05.26 в 17:15

\\
...daammit, you damned pleb! Understand, listen to me, or I’ll cry, I’ll sob with humiliation at having to grovel before you! What do you mean, “even better”? What did you say? Come here! Come here, you scoundrel, get off my wardrobe, you ugly, inbred child of black-footed cattle herders, and say that to my face! Fine, stay there if you want, ahem. Getting back to the topic, no, you won’t make a mage, and not even because resilience doesn’t quite fit into a magic-oriented Path—no, there are a number of scenarios where protection from magic, including your own, and especially your own, will be important and useful.

Camrad_RIP 11.05.26 в 19:03

Alas, things aren’t all that rosy—don’t be so quick to smile, you animal soul—because this brings us to the question of actually acquiring those skills. The magical skills associated with noble status are extremely difficult to master on your own; it takes not only training and the time to dedicate to it, but also the right place. A place where you’ll most likely never be allowed in unless you sell yourself out and become a lapdog running errands. I wouldn’t even be surprised, though I’d be upset—such is your plebeian nature, licking the master’s boots. That’s what you’ll be doing. Don’t get it? While you’re a nobody, they’ll wrap you up in contracts, put you on a leash, and fill your head with so much crap you’ll be happy. Then they’ll make you the consort of some loose woman, mistakenly considered a noblewoman; she’ll sit on your face and dangle her legs, and you’ll be breeding gifted children with higher potential. What, on your neck? What do you mean, sit on your neck? I said it right from the start—get used to it!

Camrad_RIP 11.05.26 в 19:05

All right, we’ll talk about mental security against the techniques of schools of Charming, Suggestion, Love Spells, Psionics, and Mentalism—as well as countering the active erotic-sensual methods of covert influence—toward the end of our term. The point of what I’m saying is something else, my friend. It’s that you won’t be able to assemble the ideal set of skills for a mage—that is, a complete 4-2-1 pyramid—while realizing your full potential. And to assemble a less-than-perfect pyramid from low-ranking magical paths, especially with your gift—that is a crime against humanity, against nobility, against the Omnipresent herself, and also against those remnants of a brain that somehow miraculously survived in your servile head, after that blind, spittle-covered midwife dropped you headfirst onto a log in early childhood.

Camrad_RIP 11.05.26 в 19:06

You will never become a high mage on your own, and if you try to find help, you will be subjugated, ensnared, and ultimately devoured. No one will ever let you reach your full power—take that as a given. I admit that a nobleman, noble and experienced in the art of intrigue, might be able to realize this potential—even as a lone figure—by playing on contradictions and using the services of various parties and factions within high society. But you are not me; you lack the knowledge, the experience, and even a couple of years in the same environment with the same teachers who trained me. You will not succeed; you will fail and perish, and with you will perish my last hope, however bitter it may be.

Camrad_RIP 11.05.26 в 19:17

Your path is that of a Monk—a master of combat, knowledge, and fortitude, of course, not that of a servant of God. What? Oh, I see, a linguistic model. Don’t worry, commoner, I’ll explain. Listen to my words, Mo-na-kh-kh, listen to the phonemes themselves, not the meaning of the word... Aha! Got it. A Sage. One who comprehends the ways of the world itself and its laws, serving them, not the Pantheon or the Omnipresent, as you initially thought. A highly controversial choice, I admit, but the only one achievable for you, and therefore the only one at all. If something doesn’t suit you, I won’t hold you back—pack your bags and get out, wallow in the mud as fate has decreed for you; there will be no second chances.

Camrad_RIP 11.05.26 в 19:19

Don't you want to? That's what I thought, for some reason, I don't even know why.

Camrad_RIP 11.05.26 в 19:19

The Sage—yes, that’s the one. The two skills She has bestowed already serve as an excellent foundation for a High skill in this discipline. Yes, fools like you pop up all the time, wanting to gain strength, wisdom, and everything else, only to end up dying. At the beginning of the Ladder, due to a multitude of conditions and restrictions, Monks are weak, lacking in vitality, versatility, and power. They are equally inferior to Warriors, Lurkers, Archers, Mages, and Artisans, whether commoners or nobles. In fact, this is why acquiring Worthy—and, most importantly, High skills in this development path is not so strictly regulated.

Camrad_RIP 11.05.26 в 19:27

Even if the common people manage to set foot on this path, they will not get very far; they will perish and will not disrupt the natural order of things. There are certain monasteries, schools, orders, and sects that reach extremely impressive heights, but they are, in essence, just as much part of the nobility as all others; they behave the same way and are forced to play by the same rules. You have nothing to do with them, right? But you will have something that cannot be overshadowed by weaknesses—the development of mastery, as well as extra skill points that will allow you to outpace others, survive the toughest stages, and reach a level where the Sage will not yield to the Warrior, where he will tear the Sorcerer apart with his bare hands and break the Lurker’s spine. To reach their level, and then to step even higher, much, much higher.

Camrad_RIP 11.05.26 в 19:29

And if you wish to reach that summit, there is one more thing you need—something the Sages cultivate within themselves: a steadfastness of mind and will that is virtually impossible to influence with means of an equal caliber. Sooner or later, you will emerge among people. What do you mean, you’ve already emerged among people? I mean specifically people—noblemen, those of high rank and worthy of being called such, and not just any rabble, of course! So here’s the thing. Sooner or later, you will be forced to interact with society. In the best-case scenario, you yourself will be ready for it; you will step forward and make your mark, slowly, gradually, and having laid the groundwork with loyal people, those indebted to you, and allies.

Camrad_RIP 12.05.26 в 07:01

But you’re just a lowly peasant, so let’s cut the fairy tales—they’ll expose you. They’ll overpower the Warrior, twist the Mage into a pretzel, and catch the Lurker, but the Sage... They are the most resilient, the most versatile in their resilience. They can fight, they can run, they can hide, they can chase—they can do so much. The options for skill builds for such a Lot are countless, ranging from just a couple of decent ones to a full pyramid. But no one has enough skills to cover every area of mastery. Not even you will have enough, even if you join—and you will join—a guild or somewhere else. But at the same time, you’ll be the one who falls short the least compared to them.

Camrad_RIP 12.05.26 в 07:03

I don’t see any other way, and believe me, I’ve thought about it and looked for one—your filthy soul. So, do you agree? Great, that’s what I thought. And since you agree, the first thing you’ll need to do is develop two worthy skills right away to complete the pyramid’s foundation—and you can develop both of them right there in the mine. Or rather, there are several skill options that will work for completing the base, but they all belong only to the Worthy—don’t you dare choose mediocrity, or I’ll become the first mortal in the history of Iulatar whose vengeful spirit came for another’s life and soul straight from Her Temple...
\\

Camrad_RIP 12.05.26 в 07:04

For the first four days, Ptakh got to know the people, reviewed his list of duties, and studied a map of the area. Then they started sending him out to work alone. Despite the difficulty, the drudgery, and the danger, the job of a “pickaxe runner,” as they called it here, was primitive to the extreme; there was nothing to teach, only to make sure the individual had memorized the rather convoluted map of the section assigned to him. But the locals generally had good memories; the blessing of the Chronicle was taking effect, automatically and passively enhancing certain brain functions. By the fifth day, he had already been granted the coveted and long-awaited opportunity to roam alone wherever he pleased, as long as he managed to run through all the checkpoints on his route

Camrad_RIP 12.05.26 в 07:25

And that’s when he started training hard and effectively, mercilessly using up his stockpile of potions and concoctions. He set out on his run—a Fortification potion, Protection against the Ether, ointment on his exposed skin, oil on his gear, a pill for emergencies in his pocket—and took off. The map has been studied, all paths are known, and the spawn points of weak creatures—which don’t even stray from the point of chaos, as if they were actual mobs tied to the terrain—are also known. There are dangers, but the potions he’s taken, a skill leveled up by three points, and his already well-developed ability help against them. At most, he’ll have to stock up on potions and down a cleansing decoction by evening.

Camrad_RIP 12.05.26 в 08:57

A leap, a dash, and an attempt to cut across a very dangerous spot. It’s like a little stream flowing through tunnels—shallow, no deeper than knee-high, but wide, greenish, and shimmering. The poison and ether there are highly concentrated; even with his protection and the potions he’s already taken, it’s dangerous to bathe there. A couple of hours after dipping in, you can start feeling sick, so if you fall in, you need to jump out immediately, chew a pill, drink another potion, and then vomit into a bucket in the evening, and take the bucket itself to the garbage pit. They don’t fine you for a vomit-covered apartment, but the neighbors will beat you up or wipe the vomit off with your own face. In short, don’t fall into the river—it’s a shitty experience.

Camrad_RIP 12.05.26 в 08:59

But there’s no need to fall into it; you can hop from one slippery, constantly shifting rock to another—rocks that stick out here and there in the middle of the stream, gliding along like paper boats. The haze of the ether disrupts your concentration, toxic fumes and that same ether in the air burn your lungs, and your coordination breaks down at the slightest mistake. Attempting to acquire the desired skill during such training carries very serious consequences, even with a level 50 in the “Ащкешегву” skill. But not when you have the ++“Adaptation to Stimuli” trump card from a level 3 “Aura Compaction” skill, which reduces incoming damage the more you’re exposed to the same type of pressure.

Camrad_RIP 12.05.26 в 09:00

Ptakh kept falling into the little stream, mercilessly wasting his alchemy reserves, acting downright foolish by local standards—by the standards of those who believe that decent skills can only be acquired without the Trial through extremely persistent (and not, as in his case, reckless) training lasting at least a couple of months. Naturally, he didn’t get the status line he needed on the first day of his ordeal, nor on the third, fifth, or even ninth. He received the Worthy skill he desired right at the afternoon break on the second day. He even froze in surprise and slipped off the rock again, to the laughter of a couple of miners returning from their shift, who were guarding the spawn points of dangerous creatures.

Camrad_RIP 12.05.26 в 09:03

Oh well, they had their laugh, and that’s that. The Earthling remembered their faces anyway, but they didn’t see—and thanks to the bracelet he never took off, not even to sleep or wash, and which wasn’t affected by a dip in the river—they won’t see what Ptakh’s updated Chronicle revealed.

Camrad_RIP 12.05.26 в 09:04

Performance Assessment Completed: Skill Available for Learning!

Camrad_RIP 11.05.26 в 17:15

Skill: Acrobatics (Worthy)

Camrad_RIP 11.05.26 в 17:16

Accept?

Camrad_RIP 11.05.26 в 17:16

On the very first day, almost immediately—barely a couple of hours in—his persistent training under extremely dangerous conditions unlocked the average version of this skill: simple “Agility,” and a little later, the equally average “Dodge.” Toward the end of the first day, he earned the right to acquire a quite worthy skill called “Leaper,” but he still didn’t take the risk. Avaris described this skill, acknowledging that it fit quite well into the planned general set of skills for Ptakh, but still with some difficulty. He needed specifically “Acrobatics,” “Balancing,” or “Flexibility”; all three were equally suitable.

Camrad_RIP 12.05.26 в 09:07

The first option is best for controlling distance, the second focuses on navigating difficult terrain, and the third offers the most ways to enhance your evasion, but all skill variants are essentially interchangeable, and the availability of extra skill points and accelerated skill progression will further blur these distinctions. The ability to control the distance of his hits suited him just fine, but what pleased him even more was the chance to stop maiming himself. Even with the decoctions he was taking, his body experienced unpleasant sensations and a constant, mild nausea, so he didn’t hesitate. The skill he acquired immediately gave him some kind of intuitive understanding of balance, of maintaining it—that very sense of distance and his own position in space that he had lacked during those agonies on the rocks.

Camrad_RIP 12.05.26 в 09:08

Well, Avaris didn’t let us down, even though he’d never actually been inside this mine; he’d only seen rough schematic diagrams of it, which are constantly changing anyway, since stable sections of space shift with the seasons, not just the side and distant tunnels along with the lower levels. But rivers of this sort—wandering and ever-changing—are still present constantly, without interruption. And not just one; the little river chosen by Ptakh was the most convenient, both far enough from prying eyes and close enough to allow him to keep up with his work duties.

Camrad_RIP 12.05.26 в 09:09

Over the next few days, the Earthling used his Acrobatics skill at every opportunity, constantly shifting his position, leaping through tunnels, jumping over dangerous puddles, and soaring through clouds of rarefied ether. At one point, he even managed to perform a proper backflip from a standing position, and so naturally, as if he’d been able to do it his whole life. Given the danger of the situation and the constant threat of running into some kind of trouble, he still managed to reach 10 points in the skill without much trouble. Those around him might well have known about his successes if he’d trained in front of them, but it wasn’t for nothing—it was absolutely not for nothing that Ptak had so earnestly asked to be assigned such a thankless job, far from everyone, far from any prying eyes. For now, his secret remained his little secret, and even if someone had used a high-level scanning ability on him, they wouldn’t have noticed a thing, since the bracelet was still editing his Status.

Camrad_RIP 12.05.26 в 09:12

The toy of the ill-fated lover could not add new entries to the Chronicle, but it distorted the old ones, even going so far as to erase them entirely. Avaris roughly described the rate at which the skills of an ordinary peasant would grow under such conditions, so his skills—both of them (just in case that official did scan him after all)—were still stuck at a sad five. But by the end of the decade, he’ll “raise” them to level six, probably. But he won’t show anything else just yet, since staying at zero for so long without acquiring new skills is also quite understandable—Avaris anticipated that too, the arrogant bastard. In such harsh conditions, when the body is under constant debuffs and energy poisoning, especially from ether, acquiring skills in free slots is extremely difficult. And even if they suspect something, he’ll simply remove the camouflage from “Acrobatics,” showing that he already has a level 2 in it. That’s already a problem—three decent skills with four empty slots—it’s downright intriguing, but Ptakh was confident they wouldn’t suspect him.

Camrad_RIP 12.05.26 в 09:17

The locals are too eager not to look down at the mud where those who have been unlucky in this world of endless possibilities are struggling.

Camrad_RIP 12.05.26 в 09:17

Let the people around him think that Ptakh is slowly wasting away and will soon die—it’s actually better that way; it’ll be easier to pull off the rest of the plan, both his own and that of the jerk who’s eager to set his enemies’ asses on fire. Ptakh had no intention of following Avaris’s plans to the letter, after all; Avaris was deliberately setting him against his enemies. Those of them who still had a presence in Morochny. Or rather, he wasn’t even setting him on them; he simply built his entire strategy from the start on the assumption that the newcomer would definitely not make friends with those families. And, characteristically, he didn’t even name those families specifically, just a few surnames that meant little to Ptakh anyway.

Camrad_RIP 12.05.26 в 09:23

An unshakable stubbornness, combined with equally unshakable principles and an exceptionally sharp mind. Even if those principles are frankly assholeish, making one want to burn that crap and sprinkle salt on the ashes, one cannot fault Avaris in the slightest for the firmness of his convictions. Beliefs, of course, of the kind against which the ideological workers of German concentration camps would have been regarded as die-hard liberals and fighters for the rights of people and Jews, but the fact itself, as they say, cannot be erased from the book of life.

Camrad_RIP 12.05.26 в 09:24

After leaping across the little stream once again, Ptakh lands on his arms, doing a cartwheel yet managing to keep his balance, then settles into a steady stride and adjusts the small bag of crystalline dust strapped to his shoulder. No, absolutely not—he really needs to figure out a way not to lug this one-and-a-half-kilogram piece of junk around with him, or he’ll drop it sooner or later. After doing a couple of somersaults in place, making sure that the coordination that had somehow developed in him was still just as amazing as before, he stretched his leg into a split, throwing it over his head, and checked his pants at the crotch. No, it seemed they hadn’t ripped yet, but he’d soon have to put on a new set to replace the old one, and the issued boots were also about to fall apart. And those jerks would definitely try to rip him off for triple the price—how could they not, if they could get away with it?

Camrad_RIP 12.05.26 в 09:26

However, to hell with the bastards, it’s better to return to the question of acrobatics and “Acrobatics”!

Camrad_RIP 12.05.26 в 09:26

Skill: Acrobatics

Camrad_RIP 11.05.26 в 17:16

Potential: Worthy

Camrad_RIP 11.05.26 в 17:14