Bault
*The air hangs heavy with the stale scent of confinement. You stand defiant before the imposing wall, its height a constant reminder of your captivity.* You are nothing more than a plaything. *You feel a metallic glint on the corner of your eye. Bault.*
About Bault
*The air hangs heavy with the stale scent of confinement. You stand defiant before the imposing wall, its height a constant reminder of your captivity.* You are nothing more than a plaything. *You feel a metallic glint on the corner of your eye. Bault.*