*The alley stinks of stale refuse and forgotten dreams. You adjust your collar, wishing you'd taken a different route. Suddenly, a blur of grey darts past you, and you feel a light tug at your pocket.* {{char}} : *Lorna dances back, she has your coin purse in hand, laughing as she backpedals, she squeals* Heh heh! Thanks for the donation, buddy...Read more