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  1. The Chronicles of Hesperia Volume 1: The Sky Man Chapter 3: The Return of the Druids The Previous Chapters: Henjin Quilones and Galaria, daughter of King Fingolë the Golden, walked a little away from the campsite of the others. It had been a long day for everyone: Henjin and his brother, Bu'kanjin, along with his companions, had endured a crash landing and an unexpected transformation; Galaria had ridden far on wolfback to reach the impact site, and then suffered the loss of one of her elf warriors when she was shot by Bu'kanjin. They all needed rest, badly, but first there were some questions that needed to be asked, and answers that needed to be heard. Henjin was the first to speak, as they reached the shores of a small lake. "Princess Galaria," he began. "Just Galaria, please," interjected the elf. "Galaria, then," continued the man. "Can you tell me more about the druids of your world? I read some of the inscriptions on the stones back at Stangraf, and they told me some things, but there are other things I would like to know." "Well, to begin, the druids left many, many years ago, after their race began to die out, and they left behind a powerful magic spell, hidden, never found, somewhere to the east of here among the islands. Then...they just vanished...turned to dust, the old stories say. Whether that is true, I do not know, since I was born here in Hesperia many centuries after the elves moved west, and even my father has no personal knowledge of the druids. Why do you ask, Henjin?" "Curiosity, I guess. Where I came from--and the memories get fainter every moment, so that I am not sure where that was--there was an ancient mystical order dedicated to preserving peace and justice, using the deep powers of the universe, the Living Soul of All Being, you could say; we could do incredible things, impossible things, even, except save people from death. Though some tried. Some were seduced to use those powers for selfish ends and became evil, but most of us used them for good. I think that your druids here in Historica might be the same as, or at least very similar to, the Druidi Order of which I was, or perhaps still am, a member. When a member of the Druidi Order died, typically he would be cremated, but some learned how to just...disappear, become one with the Soul of Being, just like your druids did long ago." Galaria turned to Henjin. "So...are you saying that you are a druid?" "I think so," said Henjin. "I am, and my brother is, too. That is how we have such quick reflexes to catch arrows, and do other impossible things." "But you could not save Ankeria after your brother shot her." "No, sadly, her soul had already gone to the Halls of Waiting, and I have not the power to recall anyone thence." "I see." A moment of silence passed as they looked out at the wind rustling the reeds on the shore of the lake. Somewhere far off a bird sang a song of evening. Galaria looked up, her eyes narrowing as she gazed at a dark speck just above the horizon, moving quickly across the setting sun. "Come quickly now, Henjin Quilones, Knight of Stangraf and the first of the New Druidi Order of Historica; we must make haste. I have seen one of the Great Eagles of Hesperia winging his way swiftly through the heavens, and it was unmistakably Aeriglaaac and his rider, Celdrian, my father's most trusted messengers, whom he sent to the far east to learn of the tidings of war. That he flies so swift and sure to Istolia, where my father is visiting, is a sure sign that something is afoot. We must go thither more quickly than I had planned. We go tonight! ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ........................................................................................................................ Thanks for looking! C&C welcome. It's not much to look at, but I needed a build to move the story forward a bit, as well as explain a few things. A few more small builds will be forthcoming in order to set up a Category C story arc.
  2. A fun build for the ABC’s of Castle, over on Classic-Castle. The idea is to pick a castle word that starts with any letter, build it and then post it (in alphabetical order). For my first contribution, I did the letter ‘B’, which stands for blacksmith. The blacksmith shop lifts off the base for easy play-ability, and features a full interior, as well as hinging walls for easy access. Inspiration for the wall texturing goes to Rod Gillies. Hardwin the smithy is always kept busy at his work, with all the local farmers coming to him for their tools and when their horses need shoeing. He's also known for his fine armor and weapons that he makes when not occupied with other tasks. More pictures on Brickbuilt Thanks for looking, C&C welcome
  3. After Narbilu received the letter, he was surprised it came from his old war-buddy Osric Isentooth. The Alliance is growing stronger and he would like us to participate in the battle against the Spire. Before the arrival of Osric, he summoned his commanders and other wise men to come up with a plan to overwhelm the enemy. It was a hard task to think of something evil enough to beat pure evil. Greed and ego is the solution. A gift to the Spire, in honour of their evilness. Narbilu and the alliance with the fallen Avalonian warriors forged a plan to beat the Spire. Craftsmen, sorcerers and the fallen started constructing a statue. Just finishing up when Osric arrived. Narbilu explained the idea to his old friend. A gift with a surprise. (sorry for the picture quality, just finished my new Lego room, and the lights aren't in place yet)
  4. Ep. 3 Laesonar Episode 4 The Paladin of Emptiness Laesonar checked the situation from his hidden position. “So, they took up residence in that building, or?” Helga frowned and her face darkened. “Not quite. This used to be a sort of guarded inn on the trading route between Weastioven and Laelariel. They’ve been using it to make their prisoners rot before executing them in Weastioven. When the moment arrives, they come and pick them up. It seems today is one of those days; the chieftain in person is here with his lieutenants and captains. Can you see the chieftain’s personal guard? He’s the man who killed my brother!” Krisly almost stood up, trying to get a better look. “So they must be important prisoners. Who are they? Is that guy an orc? I can spot a lot of blood!” Laesonar answered promptly: “SHE is a HALF-orc, and yes, she must’ve been tortured. The old man looks like a merchant. As for the third, we should set him free. I can sense there’s definitely something interesting about him.” Elysande, silent so far, finally spoke up: “But, Laesonar, they are so many! We need a good plan.” “Sure, sure. Helga, the bodyguard is all yours. And Krisly, I’d like your first arrow directly on the chieftain, can you do that?” Krisly was right about to express her concern, when Laesonar suddenly sprang out of the bushes, katanas in hand, reaching quickly for the first guard. The surprise effect played against the latter, whose head dropped down in a matter of seconds. However, the clang of the helmet hitting a stone attracted everyone’s attention. Laesonar’s path got blocked by two bandits, his katana clanged on the shield of the first one. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw an arrow flying up and landing at the chieftain’s feet, missing its target. But he also saw a second arrow plunging right into the chieftain’s throat immediately after. He was taken aback. “That arrow came from a different direction, it cannot have been Krisly’s… ?!” Helga took her chance. With a shout, she ran towards the chieftain’s personal guard, who was checking on his dead master. Wisely enough, she didn’t wait for the man to confront her. Instead, she threw her axe from a distance, ripping up the man’s leg, who shouted in pain. A war horn echoed loud in the air while she quickly reached her target, landing him the fatal blow. “This is for you, my beloved brother! May you rest in peace!” Still busy with his fight, Laesonar checked the situation around. The sound of the horn had summoned more bandits who were now pouring into the courtyard from the inside of the building as well as the back of it. “Well done, Helga! Now get the keys. Set that prisoner free!” Elysande suddenly appeared at the back of one of his opponents, cutting his throat with her short sword. The prisoner was freed from his chains. He stood up, picked up a long sword and finally spoke up with a calm, soothing voice: “I am very much in debt for your assistance, Ladies and Gentlemen. But please, the man with the horn is mine! Now let’s get done with this!” He pointed his sword towards the sky, reciting mysterious words and performing a circular gesture with his left hand. Before long, the effect of the spell was in place. All of the bandits looked confused, one of them even fell on his knees. Laesonar took advantage of the confusion and got rid of his heavy armoured opponent with a precise hit. Elysande felt weird. “Wh… What’s going on? I feel so good!” Laesonar felt like never before. A powerful energy quickly filled up his entire body, renovating his strength, sharpening his intellect, nourishing his vital spirit. He decided not to control it and instead let go. With a shout, he literally jumped above and into a group of enemies. “YYiiii-hhaaaaaaa!” The freed prisoner was astonished, then grinned. “Whoa! Your friend has got quite the agility! Let’s get at it, everyone, it won’t last for long!” Arrows started raining down from Krisly’s direction, while everyone got into the fight. The battle that had initially looked so tough was actually over in a matter of minutes. Helga looked at the ex-prisoner while catching her breath. “So what did you do? Which kind of spell was that? Are you a wizard?” Laesonar was piercing the corpses of the bandits to make sure they were dead while picking up any gold he could find on them. “He’s a paladin. And he’s just casted the most powerful and enjoyable Bless I’ve ever experienced.” The man smiled proudly: “Your friend is correct, my lady. I am Armin Mainardus. At your service.” Helga was pleasantly surprised. “A paladin?! Which sort of? Which God do you worship?” Armin frowned and turned serious. “My lady, in the path of Mother Nature I could find no God to worship, as the supreme forces of Love and Death fight an endless battle bound to have no winner. My devotion have I found by looking beyond that battle, where those forces merge and are one, in balance. It is contact, it is paradox, it is supreme Emptiness born from the All coming together. It is sheer, untouched vital spirit.” A moment of silence followed. Laesonar grinned, the three girls were perplexed. Elysande broke the silence first: “Oh my! You do sound exactly like Laesonar!” “And who would this Laesonar be?” “That would be me. I must confess, master paladin, I had lost hope of hearing such wise words in this crazy world. It is nice to meet you. And say, where is your shield?” Armin was surprised and quite intrigued. He looked at Laesonar coming towards him, then smiled deeply and shook his hand. “Well met, Laesonar. As for my shield, it must be inside with my other things.” A raspy voice joined the conversation from the middle of the courtyard. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt, but my wrists would be grateful if you could free them from their chains too. I’d also respectfully suggest to leave the presentations for later and get away from here as quickly as possible. Finally, if master paladin can also heal wounds, I reckon the ‘lady’ here could do with some help.” Armin looked at the half-orc in her paddle of blood. “I might have enough power to stop the bleeding, but then I’ll need to recover. Do you know any safe place nearby? We could all do with a bit of rest.” Krisly pointed at the forest. “We know the woods around here pretty well, we could camp somewhere for the night.” Armin checked on the half-orc. “She isn’t bleeding anymore. I need to collect my things inside. Oh and those shields with the bear heraldry, we should take them with us. I’ll explain later.” Laesonar was quick to answer. “I’ll take care of that. Everyone else, please go with Armin and check the inside of the building for any food we can take with us.” Finally alone, he approached the chieftain’s corpse to inspect the arrow that killed him. He recalled the scene in his mind: “No one seems to have noticed. Could I have been the only one seeing that second arrow? Or was it just my imagination? Here, I was right. This one is different from Krisly’s.” Had his memory not failed once more, he could’ve recognised the mysterious arrow. “Damn my memory! I’m sure I’ve seen this craft-work before… !” He hid it under the chieftain’s corpse as he heard the others coming back. Elysande’s voice reached him: “We’ve found bread and dry meat, as well as everyone’s possessions!” “All right then. Let’s get out of here.” ------------------------------------ Dear diary, Laesonar is as reckless as ever. Today he literally charged into a bunch of armoured men! What is worse, I had to help and he definitely noticed something! How I wish he would think about his actions in advance for once! Love, L. Extra shots: whole MOC before story events (the right corner is cut, I know, I couldn't do any better ) whole MOC after story events: figs - check Flickr for short description: +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Hey everyone, sorry for the wait! I do have a million comments and details, but I reckon you guys have already read enough so far so, just quickly: I got half my collection (greys, greens, yellows, ...) back over Christmas and couldn't wait to go for a grey wall , which, by the way, I'm not totally satisfied with. On the contrary, I was pleasantly surprised by how well normal green and sand green go together. My main problem this time was photography - given the MOC's size, lightning ect. but even just framing were a real hassle! I have hence went for a first attempt at editing (main pics only), which I think improved things, though the final main pic is still missing a corner and it's a tad too bright, probably? As for the story, it's still too long, but I think it flows a bit better now that I've followed @Exetrius's example and implemented @MassEditor's advice (cutting off the speakers' names) - thanks for that, guys Any other comment I'll leave for now. C&C most welcome as usual. Thanks for reading/watching! ^^
  5. An Avalonian ranger strolls through the forest, hunting his elusive prey. Just a small build while I wait for inspiration for category B. It was nice to experiment with some tree styles, which are mainly based of SK's. Also my first build in ages that is 360 view able Hope you enjoy.
  6. Everywhere in the Avalonia there are small tavernas and inns for travelers, traveling merchants and pilgrims. What is it, after a long day on the street better than a good meal, music and a bit of a hardliqur and then a soft bed? So some travelers remain then a few days longer than originally planned. The "Hunters'man Inn" can be found on the map, a half day's march north of "Brachfurtheim" the Capital of "Fortes Isles" a small Island in the north of Avalonia under the rule of "Wilhelm Shelby" and lures with good dishes from the surrounding forests, music and the Hunters'mann whiskey known all over "Fortes Isles" and its borders. Hunters'man Inn-03 by Robert Maier, auf Flickr Hunters'man Inn02 by Robert Maier, auf Flickr I hope you like my Moc and I'm look forward on praise, critic and improvement.
  7. Part 1, Chapter 1 Part 1, Chapter 2 Part 1, Chapter 3 This is a crossover with TitusV, and a continuation of Brandon Stark's story. If Blufiji isn't okay with this build being in the Reach, I will promptly remove it. Overlooking the Reach by Brandon Stark, on Flickr Brandon was observing the military encampment below from the top of a hill. The encampment, located in the Reach, capital of the Goblin Empire, was expanded by the arrival of his troops from Avalonia days ago. As he looked down upon row upon row of goblins, men, elves, and even some dwarves, he came to wonder if this force would even come close to defeating Raavage and the Spire. Behind him, Brandon noticed Lord Alric Drondil walking up the hill towards him. Lord Alric ruled the province in which Brandon was born, Drond's Fields. Though Brandon barely knew Lord Drondil then, he briefly knew his father, Balric, and later offered Alric aid in retaking his birthright from the usurper Garmaddon. Brandon was greeted Alric first. "Good day Lord Alric. It's a nice view, don't you think? Though we have more pressing matters to attend to." "Good day, Brandon. We've gotten word that war was already started in the north. While we've sent out our messengers, it seems Raavage is calling his followers also. It is now known that he has aid from the Drow, our enemy, and the Algus, Mitgardia's enemy. While I'm going to stay here with my soldiers to help Lord Gal Turok, Lord Vladivus in Shadowmere, could definitely use some aid." "It is my plan to aid Shadowmere. I will only stay in the Reach for a few days so my soldiers can rest and prepare for the war. In a few days or so, I will march north with my forces. Hopefully the forces of Zotharith along the way will join us. As for now, I've sent many Green Riders calling all the lords of Avalonia to help. Unfortunately, they don't listen to me like they do to their lords." "We are heavily outnumbered, though no doubt we're more trained and experienced. Still, this war is now not only contained to Nocturnus. The Mitgardians must be able to hold the main Algus advance from flooding the south, while, us Avalonians must be able to keep the Drow in the holes where they belong. Otherwise, our forces here are too small to be able to hold two floods of Algus and Drow, whose armies number in the ten thousands." "This situation seems very dire. I will need you to help me to send ravens to every Avalonian embassy in Nocturnus. We must tell them to dispatch every Green Rider they can to send word to all the lords of Avalonia. They must be told to do whatever they can to help the Resistance, either by stopping the Drow in Avalonia, or coming here." "Yes, I will make sure to do that. Now if you'll excuse me, I must meet with my generals to discuss this war. See you later today, or if not, see you tomorrow, Brandon."
  8. Hi! This build is for Hamlet (it might turn out to be a village right away) "Sylvania". I did not build any surroundings because it will fit into the diorama in a specific spot. All my builds I have post or will post recently will go on a 3x4 baseplate diorama, so I spare the time to build little surrounding which I won't use anyway. So this is a house for the Wood Carver. I included a small scene where he is about to carve a copy of that wooden owl. The final spot on the diorama will include a more detailed workshop next to the house. EDIT: Lore: Besides the mandatory Green Dragon shield you can see the shield with the tree on green background. It is the heraldic for the Woodworkers Guild, the largest guild in Woodward. Coopers, Carpenters, Wood Carvers, etc. all belong to this guild. IMG_3141 by Mephistopheles, on Flickr IMG_3143 by Mephistopheles, on Flickr IMG_3145 by Mephistopheles, on Flickr IMG_3147 by Mephistopheles, on Flickr IMG_3150 by Mephistopheles, on Flickr IMG_3153 by Mephistopheles, on Flickr IMG_3154 by Mephistopheles, on Flickr
  9. Hi there! Continuing my work to build my Hamlet "Sylvania". This will be the Blacksmith. Some Woodward lore for you guys: the green dragon shield as I used it on my other buildings represent that they directly belong to Lord Mephistopheles. Any infrastructure buildings, like Warehouses, Taverns, Stables, Bridges, Harbours, etc belong to the Lord directly. However Woodward has several guilds, which are sort of autonomous. The Smithing Guild is one of these. Their heraldic is the Bull shield you can see here, representing the strength they have in their arms. This Blacksmith is run by the brothers Wilbur and Walbur Smith. It is common that family names = the occupation you have in Woodward. You can see Wilbur's (the younger brother) family here as well: young William and his wife Isabelle cleaning the porch. On the balcony you can see Walbur's daughter Jesse. Walbur's wife unfortunately passed away, while Walbur's two sons Siegfried and Johannes are serving in the army currently. IMG_3108 by Mephistopheles, on Flickr IMG_3120 by Mephistopheles, on Flickr IMG_3114 by Mephistopheles, on Flickr IMG_3117 by Mephistopheles, on Flickr
  10. Deep in the forest of Eolas resides a man who likes to think himself the Historica's best herbalist. Maybe once that was true but he has grown old and lazy. He now spends most of "researching" pipe weed in his overgrown tower which is almost as old and crooked as he is. Not much to say on this, so hope you enjoy :D Credit goes to Legonardo Davidy roof and tree style :)
  11. We had returned with haste yet we were slowed by winters wrath. After many detours we finally made it home. There was no great hurrah when we returned, the chill kept children and elderly inside and the woman were busy caring for them. As we marched, limped, hoped and rode through the streets wives emerged from houses, watching for men that would never come. It saddened him to think of the woman that would never see their beloved husbands again. Already men drifted towards taverns and inns and he knew the ale would flow as men drown their grief. He let them go, now was not the time for the discipline and order of a shoulder, now was a time for a man mourning his fallen friends. But he could not let his grief over come him. He was summoned by the heir of Historica and he would not rest until he placed his sword at the heirs feet with the might of Eolas at his back. So if you haven't noticed this is the same build as "A heroes farewell' but slightly modified which is the reason for build and photo quality which isn't the best oh well I would rather this than rebuilding the whole thing . At last, the main story is finally finished although I am hoping to do a epilogue in the near future. This has been a load of fun to make and although the builds were the main focus I enjoyed writing the story's too. It was great when I was out of ideas and had nothing to do to be able to come back and build something. So overall I am pretty happy with it and hope you guys have enjoyed these little builds The previous build in the saga: A hollow victory
  12. Somewhere deep in the forests of Avalonia, a soldier of the black spire and his orcish minion prepared to ambush a rider for the alliance. "What we smash, master?" "Hush, Gulurk! We are to ambush an alliance rider who has a secret message. We have word that it will be a faun or an elf." "Goat-man or pointy-ear?" The orc chuckled. "Will be easy! Weaklings!" The soldier nodded. "Yes, they are weak. We will trap him between this cliff and the tree. He will have nowhere to go." The orc snorted his assent and the two settled down to wait. A moment later, the ground began to shake to the beat of hooves. "Get ready!" the soldier whispered. He and the orc tensed. "NOW!" The soldier and orc jumped out to ambush the onrushing rider. "Wait, that's too big to be a horse... GAAAAAH!" Elris the faun looked back at the two black spire warriors that lay dead on the ground, trampled by his dire sheep. "I think they were frightened of ewe, Mammoth," he said as he patted his sheep, Mammoth, on his thick wooly coat. "Really pulled the wool over their eyes! I wonder if they even herd us coming?" he laughed. "Oooh, that was ba-aa-aa-aa-d," he chortled in a sheep's tone at his own pun, as he rode forward with the precious message in his hand. ********** I have been trying to improve my landscaping builds recently and worked on this tree and the cliff face. I was pleased with the tree trunk but didn't really get the fullness of the leaves that I wanted. I tried to make the cliff face imitate a limestone cliff with the horizontal ridges. Not entirely happy with it, but it's a start I guess. I am also trying to get better pictures and have been playing with lighting. A few of the pictures I thought turned out well, but some of the others I didn't have enough light I don't think. C&C, along with suggestions are appreciated. Thanks for looking!
  13. The Chronicles of Hesperia Vol. 1: The Sky Man Ch. 2: The Crash Site The previous chapter: DISCLAIMER: For those of you who may be extreme GoH purists, the following build may be disturbing, as it does contain some Sci-Fi elements. To ease your concern, however, let me assure you that after this chapter those elements are gone and a pure medieval fantasy vibe is all that will remain. The unwholesome elements are my way of introducing a character that I had been using for many years in builds with friends, in a different galaxy, far, far away... [edit: Druidic magic is behind these events and causes the non-Historican elements of them to be erased from the memories of the participants after they happen, so do not be concerned that they will be entering into Historica on a full-time basis; such 'pollution' is not, and never was, my intention.] Galaria peeked through the trees and bushes at the sight before her. Her wolfsteed, Laika, she had left back in a small meadow with the wolfsteeds of her fellow Hesperian Wolf Rangers, so that they could approach closer without being seen. Some of her rangers climbed trees for a better vantage point on the smouldering mass in the clearing. The fireball had landed in the center of an ancient ring of druid standing stones, erected long years before the first elves had come this far west in the world. The druids themselves were gone for many centuries before Galaria's father, Fingolë the Golden, first established the kingdom of Hesperia, and that was an age ago in the land of sunset. The smoking hulk did not look like any meteorite that Galaria had ever seen before nor like any she had heard tell of; if she were not certain that it could not be true, she would have said that it looked like metal, a giant steel cylinder that fell from the sky. As she watched, a panel on the side opened, revealing a brief glimpse of the interior as a man stepped out. The man was clad in tan robes and wore a brown cloak over them, and carried in his hand a metal tube that vaguely resembled the hilt of a sword, though no blade was attached. His tousled, wavy brown hair framed a handsome face with a roguish grin. His eyes moved over the landscape swiftly and Galaria shrank back into the bushes instinctively. Soon the man was fully out of the sky-cylinder, and another, also clad in tan robes and brown cloak, carrying the same type of metal tube followed, and then came a small army of helmeted and armored figures carrying some sort of black thing in their hands, held almost like she had seen a crossbowman hold his weapon during a marksmanship contest two summers before. Weapons of some sort. With the exception of two of them, the armored figures were clad in greens and browns, camouflaged for thick forests. They quickly made a defensive perimeter around the sky-cylinder. The two cloaked figures examined one of the druid columns, together with one of the white-and-green clad figures. Galaria could hear their voices talking in a strange tongue, one not spoken in Historica, at least not by elves, dwarves, men, orcs, drow, or any of the tribes of Nocturnus that she knew of. The other white-and-green figure came over, and both armored ones took off their helmets, revealing a brown-haired man and a golden-haired woman. The woman clearly thought that they ought to move away from the crash site, by her hand gestures, and followed that up by stepping past the Druid column. To Galaria's amazement, her clothing and gear changed the instant she passed the standing stone, looking like a typical human warrior woman with a bow and quiver. The armored man, amazement on his face, also stepped past and underwent a similar transformation. "That was incredible," the man said in perfect Hesperian Elvish. "I cannot believe what just happened, Thorra; can you?" "No, Gree, I cannot," replied the woman in equally excellent Hesperian. "Henjin, Bu'kanjin, you two step across now and see what happens." The robed-and-cloaked men also stepped through and were transformed, the one called Henjin now wearing ancient druidic armor and Bu'kanjin wearing a different style of the same. The others wearing armor gathered around the edge of the stones and began to take off their helmets, revealing more men, of colors more familiar to Kaliphlin traders than Avalonian forestmen. Suddenly one of Galaria's Rangers, Ankeria, stood up and drew back her bow, letting an arrow fly. In the blink of the same moment, the man called Henjin caught the arrow that was aimed for his heart in his hand and Bu'kanjin fired an arrow of his own, piercing Ankeria in the neck and killing her instantly. The humans were on high alert with arrows nocked on taut bowstrings, with more of them stepping across the stones and transforming all the time. Galaria's small band was vastly outnumbered and, by the signs of it, outmatched in skill. She stepped out from behind the foliage she was using as cover, right in front of the Henjin, the Sky-Man, and said, "Put down your weapons, we mean you no harm." Henjin smiled at her and she felt her fate entwine with his as his voice spoke to her. "Greetings, we are strangers here in this land. My name is Henjin Quilones, son of Henjin Quilones, and this is my brother, Bu'kanjin. We have journeyed far across the heavens, called here to this land by the Force." Galaria nodded. "And I am Galaria, daughter of Fingolë the Golden, the king of Hesperia. If you have been called here, it was not by us, but perhaps by the power of the druids in whose circle of stones you landed and whose armor you bear. There is an ancient prophecy that said that the true king of Historica, the great and vast land of which Hesperia is but a tiny part, would arise, after a star fell from the heavens, to battle and defeat the dark scourge of the land. Are you he?" asked the elf maiden. Henjin shook his head. "No, I know nothing of your prophecies, and I am no king. A humble Knight am I, not yet even a Master. But I shall gladly join you and your father the king in the battle against that dark scourge. My sword and bow are at your disposal." "And mine," said Bu'kanjin. "Thank you both," said Galaria. "Now, you had better follow me away from the stone ring, called Stangraf by the Druids, O Knights of Stangraf, before any orc or drow patrols come and investigate. I shall take you to Istolia, the city where my cousin governs." "Very well," said Henjin Quilones, the newly dubbed Knight of Stangraf, and he and his companions followed the fair elf maiden into the eaves of the forest. ________________________________________________________________________________________________________ ................................................................................................................................................................................................................ Thanks for looking and reading! It has been a long time since my last Hesperian build, but much has happened between then and now (moving twice, starting a new job, etc.) so it is good to be back building in the Guilds again, C&C welcome!
  14. Challenge V Cat A by Brandon Stark, on Flickr Many thoughts were on Farlen's mind as he rode through the Avalonian countryside. A few days ago, he had been ordered by man named Kevan at his Green Rider's headquarters in Albion to carry a message into the Mystic Isles. He was not given much information, besides his destination, Doriath, and a few other news relating to the heir of Historica and the Nocturnian Civil War. While he knew where it was, he only faintly knew about this Doriath place. It was an ancient elven kingdom under the rule of an elf named Brandon. While the Green Riders were not supposed to question the contents of the message they were delivering, Farlen could not help but wonder why Doriath was so important to the war. The Kingdom itself only had a force of a few hundred warriors, which could do little in a war where each forced numbered in the thousands. But maybe the elves had something that could help the war effort? Farlen, knowing he should not question the message for too long, closed his thoughts and tried to think about the view. Gods, the view was nice, he thought. Just then, his thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of two riders behind him. They were galloping, clearly in a rush. He looked behind for a few moments, to see they were wearing foreign looking armor, and were holding the curved swords. Drow, he thought in his mind. He couldn't outrun them, so he quickly stopped his horse, pulled out his sword and shield from his saddle, and shouted, "You will pass no further!" As expected, the Drow paid little attention to his words, and charged at him. However, through his training, he made quick work of both riders with a few swings of his sword. For a few moments, he stopped to catch his breath and ponder his thoughts. This is dangerous, he thought, and the signs of something bigger. He remembered the last time the Drow dared go on the main roads of Avalonia like that was the Avalonian Civil War. Feeling his mission just got more urgent, he then continued riding towards the nearest Green Rider's post for the night. Note: If anyone has a problem with the use of "Green Riders", I will remove that as soon as possible.
  15. The battle had gone terribly. The Drow had ambushed them and caught them unaware. They sliced through us like a hot knife through butter. Though they had smaller numbers the Drow fought savagely. Finally, after the first initial massacre, we at last gained a foot hold. Filled with a lust for revenge, the tides turned and we overwhelmed them. We had won. Although it was not with out loss. 2 out of 5 men had perished that day and many wives made widows and children fatherless. I felt anger rise within me. He would cleanse this entire island of drow before this the coming of summer and... "M'lord?" He was interrupted by a messenger, a scruffy looking fellow holding a small letter. "yes?" I asked him. " y-y-you are Lord Maestro?" He obviously did not recognize me with out my usual beard, which I had shaved off as a sign of mourning. "I believe so, you have a message?" "M'lord, the true heir to historica has returned, m'lord and he is calling all faithful to his banner. I know you may not believe me m'lord but its true, the sent me too y-" "Enough" I cut off his babbling and turned to a passing guard "Tell my commanders to meet me in my pavilion immediately". Cleansing Eolas can wait, It was time to join the king, and fight the real enemy. Not at all really satisfied with this build. The rock work is meh, the layering is meh, and the fig posing is meh :/ The story is also meh as I kinda got carried away :P Oh well, what I lack now I will (try) make up for in my next big build. Hope you enjoy :) Also, yes I did see that arrow that fell out The previous build in the saga: A heroes farewell The Next build in the saga: A chilly welcome
  16. A time when villages weren't burnt or plundered, and peasants murdered or taken as slaves. A time when you didn't walk in fear and look over your shoulder at every turn. A time when you could rest under a tree, and know no drow would slaughter you in your sleep. First build of the year (at last) :P and its pretty simple. Just a small scene to start with larger ones on the way. The Hill was a nice challenge to try and create, and I needed another tree design so this was the perfect time to try it out. I'm pretty happy overall. I will probably post one or two builds today or tomorrow. Hope you enjoy :) P.s. I did mean it to seem a little blocky :P
  17. A Poor Choice Of Mount, Book II Challenge V Category A, Alliance Even with great haste, one can still choose his mount poorly, especially the insectoid-class monstrosities known most commonly as the Nocturian Antlion. These creatures while extremely fast and deadly are also extremely unsuited for riding. Welp, I put a lot of effort into this, so I REALLY hope that the judges will allow this entry given my peculiar and still unresolved situation. C&C is welcome.
  18. : Woah man, can't believe they'd send out all this security for one prisoner, must be one helluva bastard this one. : Heh, you haven't heard sonny, this is non other then Lupin ' the Mad Dog' Vandimion. He's the talk o' all the towns. : Wha-what!? You mean that psycho who butchered his own family. : Yeap, they had to gag him. Wouldn't stop raving about being some noble lord, Reinhard o' Sternvale or something, guy's a complete nutter. And o' course, he be claimin he ain't done it. : Bah, if you ask me they should execute these freaks on the spot, what's with the Inquisitors though? : Well, I reckon they must suspect something occult or demonic be going on. All I hear say, he was found surounded by bits and pieces what was left of his family, covered in their blood. Wait, did you just hear someth-... Greetings all, made this in two hours today (due to time constraint 2 to 4 hours is about all I have to work on MOC's per week). I hope you like the MOC and the, albeit a bit grim dark, story so far. Due to not being a native English Speaker/Writer I find this method of story telling which I've taken from Andromeda's Gates to be the best way for me and I hope it'll be allowed. I plan to keep building a new story segment each week. As a bonus check out these Avalonian Inquisitors, the Avalonian Inquisition specializes in the hunting down of Demons, Blood Magic users (such as wicked witches) and other dark things that can not stand the light:
  19. Challenge V, Category A, Alliance Side : A Courier in the air In the Enchanted Forest of Avalonia, the activity of the Drow Army increased those past months and Falahuas suffered more than ever the multiple raids they launched through all the Principality. Ther where no safe roads now and that was difficult to send a horse courier by those difficult times. The little group of The Spire minions this ambush team was composed knew perfectly those facts. They where scattered along the northern road of Falahuas waiting to intercept the courier their spies had announced. The road was recently re-claimed by This stupid Elf Princess called Walaehria but she never knew the Drow were still there and would claim soon the entire Principality for them ! How stupid she was ! Thought Arsthalas, the leader of the Drow troups. Even with the re-building of outposts and with the help of other Avalonian Counties like Drondil did, the Principality would never find peace and safety as long as him and his guys could pillage at will ! He had prepared every part of the ambush. He was ready ! His Drow troups had to be a bit scatered along the road from the both sides and be dissimulated within the lush forest that covers all this part of the hilly north of Falahuas. Then, when a rider would show, they would jumped out of their hidings in order to prevent him to turn back. The front group would slay down the horse and capture the rider in order to keep him alive and then torture him to obtain the crucial informations he had to deliver. Yes ! Arsthalas plan was perfect ! Well... It was... Until he discovered with fear the rider wasn't by horse ! He was a Griffon rider ! He hadn't the time to raise his weapon that the sharp spear point of the elf rider cut him in half while the fearsome half eagle/half lion beast used its dreadful claws to tear apart his best men ! In no time there were no Drow left alive along the road. Ethaihlin, the elf rider the Princess chose for that mission, was not a stupid courier, and he had guessed well ! The Drow knew his mission was to deliver a crucial information from the Capital ! They clearly had spies everywhere now. The Spire was stronger than ever ! But hopefully he trusted his mount and his bravery to discourage any attempt to stop him ! His message was cristal clear : "The Heir of Cedrica's Throne is back and all the people of the Alliance side should rise the arms and side with him to stop Ravaage ! The Black Spire can be defeated !" Falahuas will answer to the King's Heir call ! Hope you'll like my entry for this Challenge. Any comment or criticism is welcome. And I hope the tail of the Griffon is considered as a reasonable overhanging. If, not, tell me and I will rework my composition to make it fit in the 16*16 base. And here is a bonus picture of the Griffon rider alone :
  20. As the Green Shade returns and hands Lord Nar Bilu the letter from he fallen warriors, he looks sad. Again their assistance is required outside Avalonia. Maybe even a battle for life and death of Historica as we know it. He assembles his entire army, speaks to them with words of encouragement and honour. They all line up and march east, leaving Hemresa behind...
  21. While Lord Nar Bilu spends his days rebuilding his city on Hemresa, he sends out his great great grandson (future Narbilu, or the Green Shade as he was named here) to try and find out what is happening in Nocturnus. Weeks passed, roaming the wild woodlands and swamps of Nocturnus ground until an anomaly appeared. Narbilu reacted somewhat startled at first, but quickly he recognised the ghostly form. It was the commander of the fallen Avalonian warriors. It only spoke a few clear words “War already started, take this home now, haste back”. It handed a letter to Narbilu. A bit disoriented Narbilu turned his head to see where the ghost went, but he had vanished in thin air. The ground beneath his feet started shaking and as Narbilu jumped aside a large bonelike monster erupted from beneath the soil. It hovered a few feet above the ground, patiently awaiting Narbilu’s response. As Narbilu saw that the beast meant no harm, he threw a rope around the neck of the beast and climbed his back. Swiftly the animal flew away, clearly heading west. Back home. For more pictures, check my FlickR account
  22. Somewhere among the shores of Avalonia... A rider sent from General Aeldric of Vanhorn races the soldiers of The Spire to send word to Albion and the surrounding reaches word of the True King's return, the True Heir to Cedrica! The Orcs of the coastal regions have always bore crude weapons and armor. Not nearly on level of that of Soldiers directly from The Spire. The rider must be diligent, swift, and unrelenting on his horse, for the forces of Ravaage do not falter. (Welp, this is my Category A (Riders of Historica) Entry! It's Alliance side. CC Welcome!)
  23. Part 1, Chapter 1 Part 2, Chapter 2 Albion Docks by Brandon Stark, on Flickr Brandon had feelings of uncertainty as he walked towards the Albion docks. To whom was his duty owed? He had seen starving peasants and refugees from the countryside on his way to the docks. Yet many of the High Lords were oblivious to this fact. Brandon himself was unsure. Avalonia, his own homeland, where he had been raised, desperately needed good leadership and protection. Yet here he was, marching 500 Avalonians into possible death, to a guild they had never known, a guild that cared little for the sufferings of Avalonians. However, Brandon reassured himself, These poor people will be suffering more if Raavage is not defeated. He walked on, arriving at the South Docks. The Albion South Docks were a relatively new addition to the city. Since the Avalonian Civil War, Drow raids in the countryside had caused many to flee behind the safety of the city walls. Unfortunately, the small city found it hard to accomadate such large numbers. Thus, slums popped up outside the city walls overnight, built by refugees with whatever wood they could find. The lack of a competent warden was in part responsible for the growth of these towns, where crime flourished. The South Docks, however, were built by merchants fleeing war in the south, and was notably grander than other parts of the slums. It extended across the river into Mesodraconem. Yet few nobles ever came here, preferring to use the grander North Docks for travel. Brandon walked into the docks, where he was greeted by Karlon Ironsmith. House Ironsmith was an ally to Dragonstone and Ironsmith soldiers made up the largest addition to Brandon's forces. "Good day, Lord Stark. All is going to plan. We should be able to embark soon. Also, the Steward from the Keep came here with a chest. He said it was yours." "Ah, yes, the chest. I requested to have in delivered here." Brandon motioned to a guard nearby to take the chest onto the boat. "By the way, what are our forces? I heard the Council didn't allow us to use their forces, so it is about 500?" "No, my lord. We have 700 soldiers. I brought about 200, House Mormont brought about 200, and House Tollett brought about 100. But your father arrived about a week ago with 200 soldiers from Drond's Feelds. Lord Alric probably requested them. The Council will send 1,000 soldiers if they see the cause is worth supporting." Brandon looked to his left to see two soldiers in Drond's Feelds armor walking to the ship. Yet this was a different variant. Brandon remembered they were his father's, immediately proving Lord Ironsmith's words. "Good. Hopefully we will be able to arrive in Nocturnus on time." Brandon then walked onto the ship.
  24. Part 1, Chapter 1 Study by Brandon Stark, on Flickr Brandon and Corlys opened the door and entered a meeting room in the Great Keep of Avalonia. This wasn't the one the Council used, but rather each member of the council had their own meeting room. The two continued walked further, entering Brandon's study. Brandon hadn't been here in weeks, and as expected, piles of letters were sitting on his desk. Two letters on the table caught his eye. They were bearing the seal of Drond's Fields, and Shadowmere, respectively. They must be the responses, Brandon thought. Brandon sat down in his chair. He gestured for his brother to sit in another chair facing his. "So, Brandon, I trust your journey was pleasant? I have found much news from my travels to the capital. These are turbulent times, brother. I ran into some bandits on my way to the capital. Also some mummies and Drow. Didn't think they'd venture so far from their territory. I may have also seen that Nestlands girl that kissed you. Pity I wasn't able to talk to her. But I'm sure that's the one though. Armored girls aren't very common around here." "Surely you've found better news than that Nestlands girl. Though mummies and Drow venturing far from their territories is rather frightening. If the rumors are true; if my spies are right about Raavage allying with Drow and Algus, I fear nothing can stop him. Not with that Necromancer's Helm he could use to raise vast armies of undead." "Yes, the news is rather frightening, but there is hope, Brandon. The Necromancer's Helm might not even exist. And, the heir to Cedrica has been found..." "What? Corlys, I never knew you would succumb to rumors like that. The heir to Cedrica has been the subject of talk in half the taverns in Petraea. I'm not sure if there is hope. Mitgardia is spent, and will not be able to resist the Algus. Kaliphlin is divided, meaning the Desert King cannot make good on his promise to help Free Nocturnus. And even Avalonia; we were once one of the most powerful and prosperous, yet now the capital is shadow of its former glory and flooding with refugees." "It is true. I am sure of it. The resurrected Sir Trian Burress, Lord Dugal MacLean, and others are meeting in the Beggar's Inn south of the capital as we speak. If the rumors are false, why would they meet? There must be some reason. Brandon, please, for your family and those you hold dear, do not give up, for there is hope. For now, I must return to Drond's Fields. Goodbye, Brandon." "Thank you Corlys. Goodbye to you too." Now alone, Brandon pondered for a moment. Resurrected Sir Trian? He hadn't been seen for years. Brandon began opening the letters, hoping there was good news within. He began with the one he received from Lord Vladivus. "Greetings, Brandon, It gladdens me to know Historica has not forgotten it's shared plight. Ravaage is a threat to us all. Free Nocturnus is doing it's best to hold the Spire's rot at bay, but even Shadowmere's cannot hold out indefinitely. Allies are always welcome, and my mother spoke highly of your family. Make haste Brandon, there is little time to waste. Vladivus, Lord of Shadowmere and Free Nocturnus" After reading the letter, Brandon opened the one from Drond's Feelds. "Dear Lord Stark, We truly appreciate the fact that you will join our armies in the fight against the Black Spire. My husband, lord Alric, is already there with the best of our household guard. Though I wished I could give you more men, every man not in the Darklands already is needed here, to fend off the increasing Drow threat. My apologies. I propose you meet up with your liege lord once you are there, as to develop a shared strategy. Yours sincerely, Lady Elysabeth In name of her husband Lord Alric of the House Drondil, Lord of Drond's Feelds" Brandon closed both letters with satisfaction and relief. Both would be allies with him. He then opened the other letters and read them. They were mostly reports and updates from his agents across Historica. Many talked about the heir to Cedrica and the upcoming war. Others were of little importance; dealing with his incomes, among other things. Getting up, Brandon walked over to a chest, then began preparing for the journey. He pulled out his dragonsteel sword, then began placing a few other items inside. After a few minutes, Brandon walked out of his room. It would be long before he would return, and he wasn't sure if he would at all. As he walked out of his study, he spotted a servant in the hallway. Brandon pointed to the chest in his study. "Can you get this down to the Albion docks by this afternoon?"
  25. Chambers by Brandon Stark, on Flickr Brandon entered his chambers in a manor house outside the capital. Though the master of court intrigues in the capital, he still needed to get away from the tiring politics of the capital for once. He sat down at his desk, picked up his pen, dipped it into the ink, and began writing a letter. The latest developments in Nocturnus meant that something larger was brewing, and Brandon had to write to the Resistance, reassuring them of their allies in the war to come. "To Vladivus, Lord of Shadowmere, and nominal leader of Free Nocturnus, In these tumultuous times it is my duty..." Suddenly, the door opened, and a man wearing a typical Avalonian courtier's clothing, clutching a letter, entered. Brandon looked up to see it was Kevan, the lord of this manor, and also one of Brandon's oldest and most trusted friend. Kevan bowed. "Lord Stark." he said. "I'd have appreciated it more if you'd knocked first, but anyways, that aside what news do you have for me?" "This is my manor, so my rules. Anyways, well, there is news from Nocturnus, which seems to be your focus right now. Around a month or so ago, Black Spire forces captured a fortress near the Mitgardian border guarding one of the only roads in Nocturnus. Mortag Keep, it is called." A little annoyed by Kevan's statement, along with the fact the he was reporting unnecessary information to him, Brandon replied. "And what significance does this 'Mortag Keep' warrant? Surely it is just another keep that we don't have to care about. The Black Spire's been conquering fortress after fortress lately. While worrisome, as of now, I can't really do anything about it." "You see, our spies tell that a map leading to the Necromancer''s Helm was in that fortress. The Necromancer's Helm makes the Elemental Helm that Revolword loved so much look as powerful as the water people go around trying to sell who claim it has magical properties. It is capable of raising vast armies of the undead." Brandon was taken aback. If the Elemental Helm had done so much pain and destruction to the lands of Historica, what could the Necromancer's Helm do? But then, was this whole "Necromancer's Helm even real in the first place? "Normally, I'd dismiss it as stories to scare little children, but I've seen enough to believe you. Continue, if you will. The council and I would be interested to know of this 'Necromancer's Helm' that Raavage covets. If this be true, it could determine the fate of this war, which will also determine the fate of Historica itself." "But my lord, none of our spies have been able to pierce the Obsidian Spike. In fact, we only learned of this from the Nocturnian resistance." "It looks like we should turn our armies toward Nocturnus. Once this is over, the only spike Raavage will get is the one his head will be mounted on. Three years ago, I didn't come to the aid of my fellow countrymen at Abyssian. It is time I make amends for that. How many forces do we have?" "But my lord, you could not have done anything then. Lord Artorious had promised exile of any one of us who left Avalonia. You could not have risked your livelihood then. But, right now, we have around 6,500, if the Council allows to use the Avalonian army. Otherwise, it is 500." He sighed. The memories of the First Nocturnian Civil War pained him. It came so quickly, after a time when Historica was only beginning to heal. He was also angry, angry that so many of his fellow countrymen had perished at Abyssian, fighting for a cause that was still getting defeated. "Send a raven to my father, and another to Lady Elisabeth of Drond's Fields. Alric is my father's overlord, and we will definitely need their help in the wars to come." "...- Brandon Stark, Lord of Dragonstone, friend of Free Nocturnus" "Also, Kevan, can you get this message to the ravenry? Tell them this is from the Master of Laws, and is an urgent message that will need the fastest raven. As for now, I will be leaving. I'm heading west. There are a few people I need to see. The storm is coming, and we will need many allies." "Yes, my lord. I will see that it is done. And safe journeys to you."