is proving a themed week on the blog, but that is a week a bit special.
A year of preparation to reach this desired moment. Tonight at 22.00 will be my son and I in our seats, equipped with headphones and microphone and cracked his knuckles, breathing deeply to face our final destination.
Last night, without being impressed by a withering wipe at 14 seconds, returned to the charge three times more until Mother Shahraz nailed the pines on the cobblestones of its beautiful garden and its six branches finally stopped moving. After a few more wipes I stopped keeping track, but after about 80 gold in repairs, the four bastards know our anger Illidari Council, when only three of our brave remained standing, bleeding from every pore.
And tonight, there's someone that you know we're on it, hear the footsteps of our boots and feel it close over the fence. And afraid.
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