A saga of exploration, danger, and a story of lost hope restored, not for the faint of heart . . . It begins with a legend of lost bombers, and starts with a door:
This door. All who enter here must give up all hope of returning whole . . . through the door the shadows lift, like the discovery of Tut's treasures, the light dances on things long lost, long forgotten, long undusted . . .
Enter the garage of doom . . . some would call it clutter others might call it chaos, but to the elves it is the amusement park of things yet to be made . . .
The very walls are covered with models of future past . . .
The ceilings drip with stalactites of ancient things that once danced in the sky . . .
Things caught in the climb to freedom . . .
Things awaiting their turn to fly . . .
Closer we come to things of a 1/144" nature, all have seen the day and rest in rows to slumber and dream . . . if future flights of fancy . . .
One can almost hear the wind and the roar of the propellers pulling . . .
Some await the crew chief's attention for repairs and parts . . .
Tiny friends dusted with a snow that never melts
Era meets era and finds a place on the memory of shelves . . .
Yet we have a mission and the elves become excited, we are close to the edge,
Yes! The land of the lost 1/144! Dorneir and Albatros we remember being here long ago, before the Great War! What is this? A tip, a wing of silver!
Discovery! Sweet Rescue!
They exist! The legend is true! Hope arises, will they? Can their tired wings lift the load of time that covers them so well? Will our tale of venture continue? Tune in again when you will hear the elven kings proclaim the day of the C!
Man you really need to clean out the garage! But first Mrs. Clipper would like the dining room table for Easter Dinner, YIKES!
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