A Name To Chase

A Name To Chase

A Chapter by Walczak
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First Chapter of "Cloudburst"

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A Name To Chase

 

Capturing him, had been far easier than I had anticipated, when he had chosen to walk into a dark backstreet, it had felt as if the poor man was asking to be attacked. All it had taken, was for me to hit him over the back of the head, with half a brick.

I had recognised this man when I saw him in a bar, he had been there the first time I had met my enemy. This man, along with others, had followed my enemy, and taken orders from him. This was one of his soldiers.

After knocking the man unconscious, I had dragged him back to this old, abandoned house, but now I could feel his eyes burning into the back of my skull. It was irritating. This, and the stench of piss and blood that pervaded the air, were really starting to get to me. He was a rather large and brutish man, with big meaty paws, and the kind of face that a lover would try not to think about. I turned and strode over to him, so that I could look into the ugly brute’s eyes. I was hopeful, that I would be able to extract the information I needed from him, without resorting to violent measures. Torture was something, I did not much like the prospect of, reminded me far too much of dad, yet sometimes, it was a necessary evil.

“What do you want from me…?”, his tone was unexpectedly soft, and cut into my thoughts like a knife. He sounded absolutely terrified.

I looked him up and down once, to ensure that he was indeed the one I needed, and that I hadn’t mistakenly taken someone innocent.

“The man you were with today, the group of you, the one who leads you, what’s his name, and where can I find him?” I said, fixing my gaze upon his eyes.

This question completely altered his demeanour, a wicked grin, opened across his face, and a demonic laugh gurgled from his throat. I slammed my fist into his face to silence the laughing, and stepped away quickly, to restrain myself from doing anything else, off of impulse. I started pacing nervously, and throwing sidelong glances at my prisoner. After regaining my composure, I once again looked into the thug’s eyes.

“Let me ask you again, what is your friends name, and where can I find him?”

The chair creaked underneath the man, as he leaned back, relaxing where he was, as if assured of his own safety.

“Does the name Symonds, sound familiar to you? Captain Symonds” he spoke slowly, as if he was mocking me.

It was true that I’d heard the name many times before, but only ever in passing, so I shook my head and gestured for him to continue.

The same wicked grin from before, appeared on his face as he spoke, “The man’s of noble blood, he’ll be a duke someday” it wasn’t much, but at least the man had told me who it was I was hunting.

I walked over to the table in the corner of the room, and looked at the variety of tools that were on it. The blade of a scythe, a hammer, a wedge shaped piece of wood, and a number of things that I couldn’t recognise from the farm. I picked the hammer up, quickly checking it for damage, and then took a few steps backwards. Swinging the hammer as I turned, I smashed it into the man’s kneecap. I smiled as the grin on his face, warped into a grimace of pain.

“Stop smiling, your face looks enough like s**t as it is. And now, the other half of my question, where can I find him?”

The only reply I got, was a look of pure hatred and rage, that came from the man’s very soul. I stood perfectly still for quite some time, waiting for an answer that never came. For a moment he opened his mouth as if to speak, but then he muttered something under his breath and shook his head at me.

Grabbing the wedge of wood from the desk I positioned it on his leg, with the point facing down and looked at him, once again awaiting an answer. Still nothing. The intensity of his scream as I hammered the wedge in, made me even more nervous, someone could have heard that one. I darted outside and looked around, to make sure that no one was around who could have, or had heard us, but there was no one. When I returned inside the brute was panting, and incoherently swearing as he followed the trail of blood, from his leg, to a small growing puddle on the floor.

Grabbing a handful of I hair I lifted his face so that when he spoke I would be able to hear it.

“You could make this a lot easier for yourself, just tell me when, and where I can find…” I stopped as he spat a mixture of blood and saliva onto my face.

“Well then” I said. Slowly wiping the disgusting liquid from my face with the sleeve of my coat, and for the third time, returning to the table.

This time I dragged it over and cleared it of tools, leaving only the hammer and scythe blade. I ripped off part the same sleeve I had used to wipe my face and gagged my friend with it to make sure that no one could hear him scream. Too weak to struggle after my initial attempts I bound his right hand to the table without much difficulty and retrieved the blade and hammer. Using the blade I pinned one of his fingers down and then delivered to swift blows with the hammer.

His muffled screams were relatively loud but not loud enough for anyone to possibly hear from outside.

“Hollowdell…” was the first word he coughed out as I removed the gag and then “valley…”

“See how easy that was,” I said with a smile, as I undid the ropes that bound him.

He attempted to stand as his bindings came undone, this slightly vexed me. In panic, I punched him for the second time, but this time, I lashed out with all my strength, and heard a satisfying crack as my fist smashed into the brute’s face. After that he stopped moving, but I could still hear him breathing, so I didn’t worry myself about it.

If the monster I hunted was, really a captain, then why did people never seem to know about him…? Regardless, Symonds was the name, and Hollowdell the place. I would go in that direction soon, first though, I would return to Silvermouth and speak to Rowan, I had much to ask him.

 

 

The following day, after buying new clothes that weren’t stained with blood, I joined a caravan that was travelling over the mountains, and would take me where I needed to go. I had never much liked having company during my travels but if I was alone I would be unable to sleep for safety’s sake.

Caravans of traders always went from place to place selling their goods to make a profit and anyone who wanted to could join them. It was sort of like a huge dysfunctional family, no one ever shared food or etcetera, and there was always lots of petty squabbling and fighting, but, everyone could work together if they had to. The first time I had travelled with a caravan I had still been soft, I had made friends with people, and many people had died because of me.

The merchants always travelled by the half dozen, with a caravan for every two merchants. The caravans were fairly simple, a large wooden base with four wheels, covered by a roof of cheap cloth, sometimes silk. They were pulled along by great Oxen, that were each several times my size. And although menacing, they were rarely aggressive.

The first day was slow and tedious, the entire time I kept my eyes fixed upon the mountains in the distance, and tried my best to ignore those around me. That being said, I still tried to take note of who I was travelling with. The noisiest of my companions made it his mission in life, to introduce himself to everyone, especially the women, and ask about our life stories. He approached me last of all, possibly because I was away from the caravans, or more likely because he was afraid of me. 

“It’s a nice little spot you’ve got here, nice and secluded” you could tell just from the way he smiled how highly he regarded himself.

Continuing to walk I didn’t say anything, although I did take a sidelong glance at the man to help familiarise myself. Short brown hair, blue eyes, and standing about half a head shorter than me, he looked like more of a boy than a man.

“The name’s Alfric, and yours?” the smile was genuine, and yet at the same time forced.

“Not much of a talker eh? Well, in any case, you get to sleep tonight, but tomorrow night, you’ll be on watch with one of the girls, just thought you should know…” he trailed off at the end and then left in somewhat of a hurry.

I could see him go out of the corner of my eye; head held high, and chest puffed out, trying to look all big and impressive. It was hard to believe how arrogant people could be. I ignored everyone for the rest of the day, and focussed my thoughts on Rowan, and the farm. It would be nice to go back.

We set up camp as night fell, and all sat around a large fire to eat and gossip, as people are wont to do. Despite my resentment of everyone, I sat close to the fire, alongside Alfric and the others. This was only so that I could listen to rumours about the mountain bandits.

They had been growing in numbers recently, over the past year or so, according to one of the women. One of the men passionately denied this though, stating that he had come over the mountains, and seen no trace of bandits of any kind. Alfric seemed all but indifferent to the conversation at first, however, he eventually decided to boast about his fighting abilities. He tentatively played with his sword, attempting to look confident and skilful.

It was a nice sword really, sleek and simple, yet the golden hilt suggested that it could be worth a fair bit of coin. Occasionally someone would try and draw me into the conversation, or ask my name. All I would do in response was smile, and shake my head at them, no one ever asked me anything twice. After a few hours of conversing, everyone went off to sleep, except for the two who were on watch: Alfric and another man. I didn’t find much solace in the fact, that it was Alfric who would protect me while I slept; nonetheless, I managed to fall asleep at some point during the night.

 

 

The mountain looked close now, I reached out with my hand as if to touch it, but I ended up grasping at thin air. Last time I had crossed to here from the other side, back then I hadn’t hated people as much as I do now. I had joined in with the merriment of the troupe, and made “friends” during the trip. That was a mistake that I wouldn’t repeat this time, these rabble weren’t worth my friendship.

On the second day not even Alfric approached me to talk so I walked the entire day alone. Similarly as night fell I was left alone when I sat away from the fire with my horse, Pandora, and waited for them to fall asleep and for my watch to start. I was on with a girl as Alfric had said the day before.

She was pretty, with long dark hair and smooth skin, and bright blue eyes that never seemed to stop moving. She was a little bit too flat chested for my liking but still had her own allure; at least having something nice to look at might make the night slightly more bearable. I remembered her from the night before, her name, had been Elle… or was it Safia? I couldn’t quite remember.

“Your first time travelling with a caravan?” I stared at her awkwardly, caught slightly off guard by her question.

“Gosh it’s not a hard question mister, Is This Your First Time Travelling With A Caravan?” she said repeating her question, she must have thought I was simple by this point.

“No, not my first time” I said slowly focussing my attention on her face.

The firelight cast shadows across her face that made her look like some kind of jolly demon smiling at me from the darkness. I tried to resist but couldn’t help from smiling back at her whenever she looked directly at me.

“Well when was the last time then? Where’d ya go?” the dainty little way that she spoke was insufferable.

“Came this way a while a go”

“Where’d ya come here from exactly?”

“Silvermouth”

“S’that that farming place on the plains between those two big mountains?” she asked a lot of questions.

“Yep”

“You’re not much of a talker are you eh?” she poked her tounge out at me and then shook her head “my name’s Elle if you didn’t know already, and no I won’t bother asking your name mister mysterious, since you wouldn’t tell anyone last night”

She either acted a lot younger than she actually was or looked a lot older than she really was. I’d known eight year olds who spoke more properly than her and she looked to be seventeen years old, if not older.

“Why don’t you talk to people or anything like that? We smell or something?” she laughed at her own joke and then shot me a serious look before starting to laugh again.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, yes it does mister” she smiled again.

“I just don’t like people that’s all” I tried to fix my gaze on the ground hoping that she’d stop talking.

“See now I don’t quite believe that, you keep smiling at me, I think that you just don’t want to like people” I had no idea what she meant by that.

“Why do-“

“Why do you have to ask so many f*****g questions?” I cut her off abruptly mid-sentence.

“Fine… I’ll stop then mister” I instantly regretted swearing at her when she said this and slumped where she was sitting like a wounded animal.

As much as I hated people and making conversation with her I didn’t like to be rude to people, I needed to better control my emotions. Eventually we started talking after a prolonged period of silence that I broke to be nice. She was a dancer, travelled around the place with her older sister trying to make a living dancing in bars and more than likely in bedrooms too. It wasn’t the most respectable of lifestyles but she was still a nice enough person compared to the rest of the trash who accompanied me. She walked with me the next day and, much to my dismay, continued her bad habit of making small talk.

“What’re the mountains like? I’ve never really been this way before and how long does it take to get through?” the whiney sound of her voice was starting to become slightly less tiresome I realised.

“It should take us about two days so long as we aren’t raided by bandits”

“You don’t really think we’ll be attacked do ya mister?” she said sounding scared.

The chance of our caravan making it through here untouched was pretty well impossible. Last time I had been here we had been attacked and rumours of mountain bandits had only just started to spring up here and there. We were only just approaching the start of our intended route over the mountains and I was already on full alert.

I turned and smiled down at her, “I doubt it, and if we do get attacked it’ll probably be by some punk kid with a rusty sword who doesn’t know what he’s doing”

“Phew. You had me worried there for a sec” she said with a smile.

She brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face and started to twist it with her fingers.

“I’m sure Alfric would protect us anyway” I jested winking at her.

She let out a soft giggle and returned to staring up at the stony peaks as she had been doing before. I followed her gaze to the largest of the mountains wondering what it would be like to appreciate something like that. The mountains were like monumental spears pointed into the air as if trying to protect us from the sky falling. Caps of white could only be seen on the tallest of the spears where it was cold enough for snow to form. Yet, despite the size and beauty of everything that I was looking at, all I could see was massive blocks of stone that were stained with blood. These mountains would forever bring the rain. I would have been able to easily hitch a ride around the mountains and straight to Silvermouth on a ship sailing down the river. However I instead chose to go through the mountains in the hopes of finding some piece of mind after last time.

I checked to make sure that Pandora was still tied up and walking with the other horses and then started to inspect every nook and cranny that I could see ahead of us. Bandits weren’t likely to be waiting here but it was always better to play it safe and check anyway. I was far more fearful of the underpass, I was certain that we would be ambushed there. I would have to split from the group beforehand and possibly take Alfric and some of the other men with me to help deal with any archers. Otherwise we would be slaughtered.

“Why the big cheesy grin mister?” don’t know why she asked that, I wasn’t even smiling.

“Shouldn’t you be with your sister?” I was really just hoping to get rid of her.

“Yes, I guess so… I’ll be back later though, you’re not getting rid of me that easily” she replied poking her tongue out as she often did.

It was nice to be rid of her after having to spend the entire night and part of the morning with her. I suppose I did enjoy her company somewhat, I just needed to be on guard as we went up the mountain. That and she was incredibly annoying, peace and quiet was far preferable. The smart thing to do would have been to walk Pandora myself or at least untie my sword from her saddle. Honestly though I just couldn’t be bothered, I was in a lazy kind of mood, I’d have Elle retrieve my sword when she returned.

The path slowly but surely started becoming steeper and thinner. This forced the group to walk closer to the caravans which had formed a single file line. I walked ahead so that I could both be alone and watch out for the bandits which would surely show up soon. It was when Elle ran to catch up to me that I saw what I’d been looking for all day. A glint of silver caught my eye from on top of the rise in front of me as sunlight made contact with something metallic. If they were smart they’d roll something down the hill… but bandits don’t have that much finesse, they’d rather sprint down and axe our heads off.

“See told ya I’d be back” Elle gave me a light punch in the arm as she caught up to me.

“Why’d you stop anyways? You don’t normally stop without a reason”

I motioned for her to be quiet and made her look to the top of the hill at the metallic glint. She mouthed ‘Bandits’? and I nodded looking back towards the caravan. Not getting my sword before had been a bad mistake, this wasn’t going to be easy without it. Her face reflected the horror that I felt inside.

“Run back, quick, warn them and get someone to bring me my sword” she stood perfectly still, momentarily stunned.

“Elle, Now!” I pushed her to get her started and she stumbled but managed to right herself and then broke into a run.

I had a few options. I could retreat with Elle so that I could return with the others which was good in theory but it would allow the bandits time to prepare their attack. There was also the option of charging up the hill with whatever I could find to use as a weapon. Bandits who prowled these areas weren’t particularly good at what they did and most of them hardly knew how to swing a sword. With that in mind hopefully I could beat a few of them without my sword.

I surveyed the area quickly looking for anything that I could fight with, the only possible weapons were two halves of a hollowed out log. Two shields I figured. Rowan had always told me that a shield is often a better weapon then a sword and anything was better than nothing. I picked up the two pieces of oak and found suitable handholds, they weren’t completely unwieldy. I looked back up to the top of the rise, there was now a man standing there, looking down on me. He disappeared away over the top as I finally summed up the courage to take my first step forward. After the first step all my inhibitions seemed to melt away and I started my sprint up to the crest of the rise.

There was a slight decline on the other side which flattened out into a large expanse where five men stood with their backs to me. No one would have expected for a lone man with pieces of a tree for a weapon to run up a hill after armed bandits. After the expanse was a far steeper part of the mountain than what I had just run up and this was littered with a number of bandits who were heading in the other direction. Probably off towards the overpass.

I picked up speed as I run down towards one man and leapt the distance between us. I flew through the air and smashed one arm into the back of his neck crashing to the ground alongside him. I managed to clumsily roll over him and to my feet to face the others as they drew their weapons. The odds weren’t too bad, four against one, I’d been in worse situations in bar fights before. Three of them had only small daggers and rusty swords, however, my fourth opponent had an axe. My make-shift shields wouldn’t hold up against that so I would have to be careful.

I waited for them to take their first steps towards me before charging at the closest of them. I raised my arms to cover my face and felt as a knife ricochet off my right arm and clatter to the ground. I then dropped my guard to allow me to see and was forced to jump back and away from the path of the man in front of me’s sword. I smashed the logs in my hands into his arm which he had left outstretched after his attack. This caused him to fall flailing and screaming to the ground.

For the briefest of moments I considered taking his blade but decided that turning around was the smarter thing to do with my time. The three remaining men were now charging together and making use of their numbers. I parried away the first blade and just managed to avoid losing my head to the axe but the third man’s knife cut into my thigh and dropped me to my knees. The pain was agonising, it was like someone had set my entire leg on fire. The blood also made it hard for me to get to my feet and I was forced to drop one of my shields.

They circled in again slowly as I struggled to maintain my stance, they looked far more malicious this time. Sweat that had dripped into my eyes mixed with tears of pain made it hard for me to see them coming. Instead I listened. I swung my arm as I heard one of them grunt and obliterated the half-log across the man’s face sending splinters everywhere. I wiped my eyes to look at what had just happened. Now only two men remained standing, the one I had hit was lying on the ground, his face bleeding all over.

The predicament of their friends seemed to dishearten them but if so, then only momentarily. After a quick glance at his friend the axe-wielding bandit jumped onto me, pressing his axe down onto my throat. I gagged and gasped for air frantically trying to push him off and watching in horror as with one hand he reached for a large spike of wood. A thunderbolt of pain coursed through my entire body and screamed as he stabbed the oversized splinter into my already hurt leg. Jerking my head forward in an act of desperation I smashed my forehead into his nose and warm blood rushed over my head. Then he too screamed and rose to his feet raising his axe high in the air, ready to deliver a fatal blow. I kicked my legs out wildly and managed to knock him down to his knees where I delivered another blow to his nose, this time with my foot. Now there was only me and the last bandit left, but I was far too weak by this point to fight anymore.

I wasn’t scared though, after all, maybe dying could fix me. Maybe it could take away the rain. Much to my disgust I was unable to decide whether I wanted to do or not when Alfric’s sword decapitated the man. It was a cheap shot really, I mean I had attacked men with their backs to me but I would never cut their head off.

“I think it’s safe to say that you owe me now” his tone of voice made him sound like even more of a prick.

Smiling he looked at my leg and then called out for the caravan to bring medical supplies over.

“I don’t owe you anything Alfric” I stated coldly.

The man had saved my life, yes, but that only made me hate him all the more. I sighed as I saw a woman running over with a smallish box and Elle behind her carrying my sword.

I shut my eyes and smiled, “f*****g rain”

 

 

When I opened my eyes I was inside one of the caravans, Elle was sitting across from me and fiddling with the bindings on my leg.

“Finally awake I see mister sleepy head” Elle cocked her head at me and smiled.

The pain in my leg wasn’t as intense as before but it was still fiery and would need time to heal. My head hurt too now, it throbbed dully and I rubbed to try and ease the ache. Outside the sun was setting and had lit the sky ablaze in a swirl of oranges and reds, I must have been asleep for a while.

“How long was I out for Elle?” I asked pointing out the colour of the sky.

“Oh, only a few hours or so, although you kept saying weird things in your sleep”

 “Weird things like what…?” I was slightly puzzled, I sometimes had nightmares but I had never realised that I spoke in my sleep.

“You just kept saying a name, Piers or something like that, well you didn’t exactly say it…” she paused and her smile faded away “you more or less screamed it”

James Piers… I had been doing well in not thinking about him since we had arrived at the mountain pass. Or at least so I had thought.

“Who is he anyways?”

I didn’t quite know whether I was willing to share this story with her or not, I decided that telling someone couldn’t hurt. I think I may have just wanted to get it off my chest.

“It’s a long story, you sure you want to hear it all?” I raised my eyebrows awaiting her response.

She nodded her head in silence. I then spent the next few hours telling the story of how I came to know James.



© 2013 Walczak


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I walked over to the table in the corner of the room, and looked at the variety of tools that were on it. The blade of a scythe, a hammer, a wedge shaped piece of wood, and a number of things that I couldn’t recognise from the farm. I picked the hammer up, quickly checking it for damage, and then took a few steps backwards. Swinging the hammer as I turned, I smashed it into the man’s kneecap. I smiled as the grin on his face, warped into a grimace of pain.

In this one paragraph you use the word "I" six times. An example to eliminate the use of the word is as follows, "Picking up a hammer. Checking it over for damage. Taking a few steps backwards. Swinging the hammer in the turn, smashing the kneecaps of the bound man, sending the captive into a fit of pain. Providing me with a degree of satisfaction.

Posted 10 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

I like this kind of writing. Stick with it.

Posted 10 Years Ago


I walked over to the table in the corner of the room, and looked at the variety of tools that were on it. The blade of a scythe, a hammer, a wedge shaped piece of wood, and a number of things that I couldn’t recognise from the farm. I picked the hammer up, quickly checking it for damage, and then took a few steps backwards. Swinging the hammer as I turned, I smashed it into the man’s kneecap. I smiled as the grin on his face, warped into a grimace of pain.

In this one paragraph you use the word "I" six times. An example to eliminate the use of the word is as follows, "Picking up a hammer. Checking it over for damage. Taking a few steps backwards. Swinging the hammer in the turn, smashing the kneecaps of the bound man, sending the captive into a fit of pain. Providing me with a degree of satisfaction.

Posted 10 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Overall Impression:
Overall a pretty good chapter. The plot is moving forward at a decent pace. The character is interesting and takes an active roll in moving the story forward. There are several small issues that I will address later on, but overall this chapter worked very well for me.

There are two overall issues I found.

First his actions in the first scene strike me as contradictory. In the second paragraph your character tells us, “I was hopeful, that I would be able to extract the information I needed from him, without resorting to violent measures.”

However, within the space of a few sentences he punches the man in the face and then breaks his kneecaps with a hammer. Those two just don’t really mesh. The punch might be forgivable and chalked up to high emotions, but going at the man’s kneecaps with a hammer at this point says that he was not only able, but very willing to use torture. I’m not convinced that he used up his available options at that point. Far from it, his captive just finished giving him information he asked for. Smashing his knee with a hammer at that point strikes me as sadistic. Later in this chapter it’s clear the man has a sort of code he lives by. Being forced to compromise this code is something that might happen, but I feel like he should struggle with it more.

The second issue, and this is kind of minor, I’m not sure why he feels the need to return to Silvermouth and Rowan. You say that he has a lot of questions but, I guess I don’t understand how the information he got from his captive makes him want to return to Rowen as opposed to following up on the information and tracking down the man responsible for his father’s death.

Additional Notes:

“He was a rather large and brutish man, with big meaty paws, and the kind of face that a lover would try not to think about.”

I like this description. It’s creative and it paints a picture in my head.

“Torture was something, I did not much like the prospect of, reminded me far too much of dad, yet sometimes, it was a necessary evil.”

This is a run-on sentence. Consider breaking it up into two or three individual thoughts.

“Last time I had crossed to here from the other side, back then I hadn’t hated people as much as I do now.”

Consider taking out the ‘back then’ or rewording this sentence. It feels awkward as it is.

“I checked to make sure that Pandora was still tied up and walking with the other horses and then started to inspect every nook and cranny that I could see ahead of us.”

Here I start to wonder why he isn’t riding his horse. Not a big thing, but something that sprang to mind.

“Not getting my sword before had been a bad mistake, this wasn’t going to be easy without it.”

Saw this coming and his reason for not getting his sword earlier don’t really mesh with his character, in my opinion. A warrior shouldn’t be too lazy to get his sword. I like the complication and where it leads, but consider a different reason for it.

“Jerking my head forward in an act of desperation I smashed my forehead into his nose and warm blood rushed over my head.”
This fight scene is pretty good overall. I was able to follow the action without too much trouble. This part bugged me though. I this man still has an axe to his throat. If he tries to headbutt him, he will end up cutting his own throat. Otherwise, this scene worked pretty well for me.


Posted 10 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Walczak

10 Years Ago

Your reviews are really good so thanks for that. A lot of the time my writing doesn't really flow or.. read more

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Added on September 21, 2013
Last Updated on September 21, 2013
Tags: Cloudburst, medieval, fighting, swords, rain, adventure, death, sadness, anti-hero, anti, hero, mystery, growing up, life, pain, suffering, qwerty, qwertyuiop, asdfghjkl, zxcvbnm, qwertyuiopasdfghjklzxcvbnm


Author

Walczak
Walczak

Australia



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