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Lord Beric
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Lord Beric
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Inviato il 05 dicembre 2013 20:03

Signore e signori, le foto di LadyE e The Goldfish relative al raduno milanese sono state caricate! Ancora un po' di pazienza per i video... :)

 

Se qualcuno ha ancora foto da consegnarmi, si faccia vivo! <img alt=" />


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Lord dei Pan di Stelle - Lord Comandante dei Peluche

The best fantasy is written in the language of dreams. It is alive as dreams are alive, more real than real... for a moment at least... that long magic moment before we wake.
Fantasy is silver and scarlet, indigo and azure, obsidian veined with gold and lapis lazuli. Reality is plywood and plastic, done up in mud brown and olive drab.
Fantasy tastes of habaneros and honey, cinnamon and cloves, rare red meat and wines as sweet as summer. Reality is beans and tofu, and ashes at the end.
Reality is the strip malls of Burbank, the smokestacks of Cleveland, a parking garage in Newark. Fantasy is the towers of Minas Tirith, the ancient stones of Gormenghast, the halls of Camelot.
Fantasy flies on the wings of Icarus, reality on Southwest Airlines.
Why do our dreams become so much smaller when they finally come true?
We read fantasy to find the colors again, I think. To taste strong spices and hear the songs the sirens sang. There is something old and true in fantasy that speaks to something deep within us, to the child who dreamt that one day he would hunt the forests of the night, and feast beneath the hollow hills, and find a love to last forever somewhere south of Oz and north of Shangri-La.
They can keep their heaven. When I die, I'd sooner go to Middle-earth.

 

[George R. R. Martin]

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Inviato il 05 dicembre 2013 20:08

scaricate...che spettacolo!!! :)



Lady Joanna
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Lady Joanna
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Inviato il 05 dicembre 2013 20:13

Yuppiiiiiii!!! <img alt=" /> <img alt=" /> :D <img alt=" />


WikiBarriera!!!

 

 

 

 

Fondatrice dei Comitati
J.W.F.D.
Jonny Wilkinson Fammi un Drop - M.N.Ü.A. Manuel Neuer Über Alles - M.B.F.C. Michael Ballack Fan Club
Membro del Comitato P.J.L. Comitato Pro Jaime Lannister - Membro del Comitato G.M.S.S. Giù le mani da Sansa Stark, per la difesa della giovane lupa (gemellato con G.M.A.S. Giù le mani da Arya Stark) - Membro del Comitato W.F.D.M. Walder Frey deve morire (possibilmente nel crollo delle sue torri) - Membro del Comitato GATTARYS! Comitato Gatti Uniti per Ser Balzo sul Trono di Spade - Membro del Comitato M.L.C.V.I.R.D. Ma con La Carne ci Vuole Il Rosso di Dorne - Membro del T.B.D.F. Team Baciate dal Fuoco - Membro del Comitato F.F.C. Folletto Fan Club

 

 

 

Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you.


Lord Beric
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Inviato il 09 gennaio 2014 22:45

Primo post aggiornato cone le foto di moglie di lancia dell'ultimo raduno milanese dicembrino!


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Lord dei Pan di Stelle - Lord Comandante dei Peluche

The best fantasy is written in the language of dreams. It is alive as dreams are alive, more real than real... for a moment at least... that long magic moment before we wake.
Fantasy is silver and scarlet, indigo and azure, obsidian veined with gold and lapis lazuli. Reality is plywood and plastic, done up in mud brown and olive drab.
Fantasy tastes of habaneros and honey, cinnamon and cloves, rare red meat and wines as sweet as summer. Reality is beans and tofu, and ashes at the end.
Reality is the strip malls of Burbank, the smokestacks of Cleveland, a parking garage in Newark. Fantasy is the towers of Minas Tirith, the ancient stones of Gormenghast, the halls of Camelot.
Fantasy flies on the wings of Icarus, reality on Southwest Airlines.
Why do our dreams become so much smaller when they finally come true?
We read fantasy to find the colors again, I think. To taste strong spices and hear the songs the sirens sang. There is something old and true in fantasy that speaks to something deep within us, to the child who dreamt that one day he would hunt the forests of the night, and feast beneath the hollow hills, and find a love to last forever somewhere south of Oz and north of Shangri-La.
They can keep their heaven. When I die, I'd sooner go to Middle-earth.

 

[George R. R. Martin]


Lord Beric
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Lord Beric
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Inviato il 28 gennaio 2014 23:28

Aggiunte, con colpevolissimo ritardo, anche le foto di Guardiano della notte, sempre del raduno milanese dicembrino. <img alt=" />


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Lord dei Pan di Stelle - Lord Comandante dei Peluche

The best fantasy is written in the language of dreams. It is alive as dreams are alive, more real than real... for a moment at least... that long magic moment before we wake.
Fantasy is silver and scarlet, indigo and azure, obsidian veined with gold and lapis lazuli. Reality is plywood and plastic, done up in mud brown and olive drab.
Fantasy tastes of habaneros and honey, cinnamon and cloves, rare red meat and wines as sweet as summer. Reality is beans and tofu, and ashes at the end.
Reality is the strip malls of Burbank, the smokestacks of Cleveland, a parking garage in Newark. Fantasy is the towers of Minas Tirith, the ancient stones of Gormenghast, the halls of Camelot.
Fantasy flies on the wings of Icarus, reality on Southwest Airlines.
Why do our dreams become so much smaller when they finally come true?
We read fantasy to find the colors again, I think. To taste strong spices and hear the songs the sirens sang. There is something old and true in fantasy that speaks to something deep within us, to the child who dreamt that one day he would hunt the forests of the night, and feast beneath the hollow hills, and find a love to last forever somewhere south of Oz and north of Shangri-La.
They can keep their heaven. When I die, I'd sooner go to Middle-earth.

 

[George R. R. Martin]

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mance raider93
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mance raider93
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Inviato il 19 maggio 2014 12:20

Ciao ragazzi :)

Sono un vecchio utente del forum (ultimamente mi sono connesso pochissimo) Non so se è il luogo adatto per questa richiesta ma ci provo.

Sto organizzando a Torino (località collinare molto bella) una serata dedicata a tutto tondo a Game of Thrones,compreso banchetto/cena con le ricette del libro,cosplay ,torneo,musica dal vivo,menestrelli,gadget e merch,di tutto di piu.

Insomma una sorta di festa celtica/raduno tutto dedicato alle cronache del ghiaccio e del fuoco.

Anni fa partecipai ad un vostro raduno a Milano e vorrei chiedervi se per l'autunno vi andrebbe di partecipare come barriera.

 

Il periodo previsto è Agosto/Settembre

che ne pensate? Grazie.


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Ygritte baciata dal fuoco
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Inviato il 20 maggio 2014 21:09

Wow che bella idea! Io vivo a Roma ma spesso sto in liguria da mia madre....non so incastrare i tempi ora, ma se fossi li verrei sicuramente!

 

Inviato dal mio GT-I9300 utilizzando Tapatalk



Lord Beric
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Lord Beric
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Inviato il 03 giugno 2014 12:26

Gente, ma del raduno toscano nessuno ha foto da passare per caricarle qui? <img alt=" />


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Lord dei Pan di Stelle - Lord Comandante dei Peluche

The best fantasy is written in the language of dreams. It is alive as dreams are alive, more real than real... for a moment at least... that long magic moment before we wake.
Fantasy is silver and scarlet, indigo and azure, obsidian veined with gold and lapis lazuli. Reality is plywood and plastic, done up in mud brown and olive drab.
Fantasy tastes of habaneros and honey, cinnamon and cloves, rare red meat and wines as sweet as summer. Reality is beans and tofu, and ashes at the end.
Reality is the strip malls of Burbank, the smokestacks of Cleveland, a parking garage in Newark. Fantasy is the towers of Minas Tirith, the ancient stones of Gormenghast, the halls of Camelot.
Fantasy flies on the wings of Icarus, reality on Southwest Airlines.
Why do our dreams become so much smaller when they finally come true?
We read fantasy to find the colors again, I think. To taste strong spices and hear the songs the sirens sang. There is something old and true in fantasy that speaks to something deep within us, to the child who dreamt that one day he would hunt the forests of the night, and feast beneath the hollow hills, and find a love to last forever somewhere south of Oz and north of Shangri-La.
They can keep their heaven. When I die, I'd sooner go to Middle-earth.

 

[George R. R. Martin]


Lord Beric
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Lord Beric
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Inviato il 10 dicembre 2014 22:08

Date un occhio al primo post del topic... :D

 

 

Forza forza! Chiunque abbia foto radunistiche da passarmi si faccia vivo!


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Lord dei Pan di Stelle - Lord Comandante dei Peluche

The best fantasy is written in the language of dreams. It is alive as dreams are alive, more real than real... for a moment at least... that long magic moment before we wake.
Fantasy is silver and scarlet, indigo and azure, obsidian veined with gold and lapis lazuli. Reality is plywood and plastic, done up in mud brown and olive drab.
Fantasy tastes of habaneros and honey, cinnamon and cloves, rare red meat and wines as sweet as summer. Reality is beans and tofu, and ashes at the end.
Reality is the strip malls of Burbank, the smokestacks of Cleveland, a parking garage in Newark. Fantasy is the towers of Minas Tirith, the ancient stones of Gormenghast, the halls of Camelot.
Fantasy flies on the wings of Icarus, reality on Southwest Airlines.
Why do our dreams become so much smaller when they finally come true?
We read fantasy to find the colors again, I think. To taste strong spices and hear the songs the sirens sang. There is something old and true in fantasy that speaks to something deep within us, to the child who dreamt that one day he would hunt the forests of the night, and feast beneath the hollow hills, and find a love to last forever somewhere south of Oz and north of Shangri-La.
They can keep their heaven. When I die, I'd sooner go to Middle-earth.

 

[George R. R. Martin]

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Inviato il 12 dicembre 2014 11:41

Io ne ho fatte poche al recente raduno di Bologna, ma al massimo entro domani te le mando. C'è anche un piccolo video girato al pranzo di sabato :).



Lord Beric
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Inviato il 16 dicembre 2014 21:35

Aggiunte le foto di senzavolto. ;)


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Lord dei Pan di Stelle - Lord Comandante dei Peluche

The best fantasy is written in the language of dreams. It is alive as dreams are alive, more real than real... for a moment at least... that long magic moment before we wake.
Fantasy is silver and scarlet, indigo and azure, obsidian veined with gold and lapis lazuli. Reality is plywood and plastic, done up in mud brown and olive drab.
Fantasy tastes of habaneros and honey, cinnamon and cloves, rare red meat and wines as sweet as summer. Reality is beans and tofu, and ashes at the end.
Reality is the strip malls of Burbank, the smokestacks of Cleveland, a parking garage in Newark. Fantasy is the towers of Minas Tirith, the ancient stones of Gormenghast, the halls of Camelot.
Fantasy flies on the wings of Icarus, reality on Southwest Airlines.
Why do our dreams become so much smaller when they finally come true?
We read fantasy to find the colors again, I think. To taste strong spices and hear the songs the sirens sang. There is something old and true in fantasy that speaks to something deep within us, to the child who dreamt that one day he would hunt the forests of the night, and feast beneath the hollow hills, and find a love to last forever somewhere south of Oz and north of Shangri-La.
They can keep their heaven. When I die, I'd sooner go to Middle-earth.

 

[George R. R. Martin]


Lord Beric
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Lord Beric
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Inviato il 16 novembre 2015 13:15

Questa sera arriveranno le prime foto del raduno fiorentino... invito chiunque abbia fatto foto/video/qualsiasialtracosa a inviarmi il tutto! ^_^


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Lord dei Pan di Stelle - Lord Comandante dei Peluche

The best fantasy is written in the language of dreams. It is alive as dreams are alive, more real than real... for a moment at least... that long magic moment before we wake.
Fantasy is silver and scarlet, indigo and azure, obsidian veined with gold and lapis lazuli. Reality is plywood and plastic, done up in mud brown and olive drab.
Fantasy tastes of habaneros and honey, cinnamon and cloves, rare red meat and wines as sweet as summer. Reality is beans and tofu, and ashes at the end.
Reality is the strip malls of Burbank, the smokestacks of Cleveland, a parking garage in Newark. Fantasy is the towers of Minas Tirith, the ancient stones of Gormenghast, the halls of Camelot.
Fantasy flies on the wings of Icarus, reality on Southwest Airlines.
Why do our dreams become so much smaller when they finally come true?
We read fantasy to find the colors again, I think. To taste strong spices and hear the songs the sirens sang. There is something old and true in fantasy that speaks to something deep within us, to the child who dreamt that one day he would hunt the forests of the night, and feast beneath the hollow hills, and find a love to last forever somewhere south of Oz and north of Shangri-La.
They can keep their heaven. When I die, I'd sooner go to Middle-earth.

 

[George R. R. Martin]


Lord Beric
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Inviato il 16 novembre 2015 21:16

Nel primo post di questo topic, ecco a voi le foto di Lady Joanna!! ^_^ ^_^


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Lord dei Pan di Stelle - Lord Comandante dei Peluche

The best fantasy is written in the language of dreams. It is alive as dreams are alive, more real than real... for a moment at least... that long magic moment before we wake.
Fantasy is silver and scarlet, indigo and azure, obsidian veined with gold and lapis lazuli. Reality is plywood and plastic, done up in mud brown and olive drab.
Fantasy tastes of habaneros and honey, cinnamon and cloves, rare red meat and wines as sweet as summer. Reality is beans and tofu, and ashes at the end.
Reality is the strip malls of Burbank, the smokestacks of Cleveland, a parking garage in Newark. Fantasy is the towers of Minas Tirith, the ancient stones of Gormenghast, the halls of Camelot.
Fantasy flies on the wings of Icarus, reality on Southwest Airlines.
Why do our dreams become so much smaller when they finally come true?
We read fantasy to find the colors again, I think. To taste strong spices and hear the songs the sirens sang. There is something old and true in fantasy that speaks to something deep within us, to the child who dreamt that one day he would hunt the forests of the night, and feast beneath the hollow hills, and find a love to last forever somewhere south of Oz and north of Shangri-La.
They can keep their heaven. When I die, I'd sooner go to Middle-earth.

 

[George R. R. Martin]


Lord Beric
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Lord Beric
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Inviato il 17 novembre 2015 22:51

Messe anche le foto di Idriel Stark!


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Lord dei Pan di Stelle - Lord Comandante dei Peluche

The best fantasy is written in the language of dreams. It is alive as dreams are alive, more real than real... for a moment at least... that long magic moment before we wake.
Fantasy is silver and scarlet, indigo and azure, obsidian veined with gold and lapis lazuli. Reality is plywood and plastic, done up in mud brown and olive drab.
Fantasy tastes of habaneros and honey, cinnamon and cloves, rare red meat and wines as sweet as summer. Reality is beans and tofu, and ashes at the end.
Reality is the strip malls of Burbank, the smokestacks of Cleveland, a parking garage in Newark. Fantasy is the towers of Minas Tirith, the ancient stones of Gormenghast, the halls of Camelot.
Fantasy flies on the wings of Icarus, reality on Southwest Airlines.
Why do our dreams become so much smaller when they finally come true?
We read fantasy to find the colors again, I think. To taste strong spices and hear the songs the sirens sang. There is something old and true in fantasy that speaks to something deep within us, to the child who dreamt that one day he would hunt the forests of the night, and feast beneath the hollow hills, and find a love to last forever somewhere south of Oz and north of Shangri-La.
They can keep their heaven. When I die, I'd sooner go to Middle-earth.

 

[George R. R. Martin]

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_ladybolton
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Inviato il 18 novembre 2015 15:06

Bellissime foto!! Il migliore è senza dubbio la mascotte del forum... il piccolo Mattia :wub:


 

“Non mi sono piaciute per niente quelle accuse, no, no e no“ grugniva la scrofa, ancheggiando per il vialetto. La coniglietta e l’asina le consigliarono più giudizio, perché quanto successo all’ape regina non era piacevole. “Dai, suvvia, non esagerare… secondo me i rospetti son stati fuori luogo“ si impuntò in particolar modo la coniglietta, ma la scrofa, beh, ormai l’avrete capito anche voi, non gliene poteva fregare di meno. “Le è stato rubato un alveare, ma di cosa stiamo parlando!“ 

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