| Where there's a Weewoo, there's a way |
Circulation: 194,201,769 |
Issue: 747 | 2nd day of Gathering, Y18 |
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We found the following 3 result(s) for the keyword lunarchronicles
Week - 744
The Quest for Piratehood
by lunarchronicles | | Description: Lantsov absolutely adored living in a Neohome in Krawk Island. As a pirate Blumaroo, he felt at home among the scourges and scallywags that prowled the beaches and alleys of his neighborhood. And, of course, he participated in all of the mandatory pirate activities that the island had to offer. But there was one huge problem. Lantsov wasn’t actually a pirate. |
| Week - 745
Cards on the Table
by lunarchronicles | | Description: It’s recently come to my attention that people simply might not know what they’re missing in this oft-overlooked section, especially now that KeyQuest is on hiatus. Today, I’d like to examine some points in favor of these lesser-loved Neopian games. |
| Week - 747
The World Beyond Meerca Chase
by lunarchronicles | | Description: “Game over! Here are your Neopoints!” Alistair grinned until the latest player walked away, carrying a pouch of shiny Neopoints, and then sighed and placed his head in his paws. This was not an easy task for a Meerca, but he managed it somehow. |
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Great stories!
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 The Price of Greatness: Part Three
A feeling of foreboding hangs over you, and your throat constricts in response. The dull whir of a fan blade echoes from a nearby chamber. You run towards it without knowing why. The end of the hallway brings you to a junction with hundreds of possible paths.
by xxskyisfallingxx |
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 Defender Scarlet Shadow in the Deathly Mission: Part Two
The coordinates led to a place around the middle of the Lost Desert, so the figure's story matched up so far. Now Sopherie just needed to go there and see if there was actually a tomb at those coordinates. Sopherie got some sleep in the afternoon and waited until it was after dark, then she dressed into her Defender uniform
by orisasda |
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 KATIPO I: Restart: Part One
our hair fell and curled over your shoulders in perfect spirals, gold like a ghostly honey dripping from the seams of your lapel. That night had been going well up until that point, but your appointed mod was extremely late, and your patience was beginning to wane at an exponential rate.
by theschizophrenicpunk |
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