Rise of the Baiamontes (Full Story)

[Louis of Nutwood]

Beware! This is a heavy reading topic. A cup of hot beverage is advised. 
This story was written for Book III: Challenge V, Category B (Baiamonte Family, in Varlyrio).
For each individual (concise) part, go to: Part I, Part II, Part III
 

Happy reading.

 

Rise of the Baiamontes
By @Louis of Nutwood, @Gideon and @Henjin_Quilones

A yellow orb of fire rose from under the blue mantel that divided water and sky to warm the face of land, wake the common folk, and put the isle in the middle of the sea to stand and meet the new season. From its study, The Rego snorted in satisfaction to hear the clatter of iron against wood as his guards, woken before the break of light, practicing the art of swordsmanship, as they did religiously every morning. This day, though, marked an anticipated time for both the Rego and the military force that supported and protected his kin, for on the first day of summer, when the sun was at its peak, the younglings, apprentices of the Varlyrian army, would be reckoned as men of the realm, called forth to swear their vows and win the honor of wearing the gold and white armor that made them protectors of the Isle.

After 28 years in the military, Gen. Juan Rojas Baiamonte had attended the Ritual of Recognition on its every occasion since his youth. And for the past 16, upon being promoted as General after his late father Miguel Villaroya Baimonte, he was the one person that placed the golden blade of the Ancestors upon the shoulders the youngling soldiers, erasing their past and turning them into men devoted to a life of servitude in the army. In 28 years, Gen. Juan R. Baiamonte had faced the most difficult voyages, the most threatening battles, the most fearsome enemies. He had been to the Battle of the Seas, the Envoy to the Swollen Caves, even to the War of Famine, up in the continent, where soldiers have claimed to see winged beasts spitting fire from the sky. But none of these battles made Juan as uneasy as he was this day, for in the crowd of younglings that waited in a sea of anxiety to proclaim their loyalty, one boy with wavy brown hair and innocent eyes stood to him the most.

As happened to Juan, it happened to Miguel, his father, and his grandfather before him, and after generations leading the Special Forces of the Army of the Isle, the Baiamonte family took the pages of history as the most cunning strategists and fearless warriors. At the age of 8, every child was to be separated from its family, stripped from all its possessions, deprived from all its comforts, and sent to live in a monastery amongst nature and other children. From youth, they would learn how to wield a sword and hold a spear, to raise a shield and perry a blow, to use hand-to-hand combat and to use nature on their favor, to trust and protect their brothers and to never give their backs to an enemy, to move, feel and think as a unit and to become a deadly weapon individually, just as much as in a group. To fear nothing but fear itself. Strength. Consistency. Trust. After years under observation and constant training, the younglings that showed capable of partaking military action, were gradually moved to battalions and frontlines to care, and learn from operative soldiers that fought for the realm and defended its sovereignty.

This day, Gen. Juan Rojas Baiamonte would welcome the little younglings to their new life. This day, Juan, the little boy that was taken from his family and grew to become the most respected general in Varlyrio would welcome his only son to a new life filled with honor and responsibility. Juan could not be prouder, and he could not be more eager to once again, meet his only son Rufus.

Banners flapped as the bright sun was at its peak. Lined in a trail were the younglings – some had not a strand of hair on their newborn faces – with puffed chests and clenched jaws. On their flanks, battalions of soldiers stood motionless with their spears stuck on the ground, rugged as a chain of trees. The Rego stood form his carved chair and raised his hands facing the young soldiers. General Juan Rojas Baiamonte was at his right and fell to one knee as the crown did the same.

“All your past... is dust. Your family, your heritage, your mistakes, your achievements. Dust. All your future... is sand. Words in the wind. A blank page in the unknown. Sand. All there is... is now. This day, here. And this day... you are reborn! Raise, and face me in the eye. Look into my soul and pray. Who are you?”

The line of younglings raised from their knees and punched their chests with fisted hands.

“Ahooo! Ahooo! Ahooo!”

General Juan Rojas Baiamonte left the Rego’s side and took the lead, unsheathing a golden blade from his scabbard and pointing it to the sky. Juan once again repeated the vows that bound him and every man to the Varlyrian Army together and brought his son closer than ever.

…

A great caravel of five masts had just docked over the harbor, following a hundred merchant ships from Avalonia, a thousand barges from Kaliphlin and countless fishing boats from Mitgardia. Over the past few years, the port area had become impassable, filled with people from all over Avalonia coming and going, trying to make a living. A welcoming place for thieves and robbers, as well as for those who envisioned a new start in a distant world.

Recognizing the opportunity to develop political relations with the other guilds through trade and commerce, The Rego invested in the expansion of Varlyrian ports and established major trading routes with the continent. The recent alliance brought interest and curiosity to the Isle, as more and more people started to travel across the sea. The travel from the continent took several days and the investment in such endeavors were of great cost, so the regent Queen Ylspeth demanded the taxes on Varlyrian ports to be lowered, greatly impacting the Rego’s revenue. The Isle’s council settled, acknowledging the benefits of a larger circulation of foreign fleets, but consumed by greed, projects of exploitation were implemented to support commerce and dazzle the newcomers.

Up in the Ridge Mountains, an interconnected chain of caves and tunnels opened and kept by the Island Dwarves gave way to an extraordinary route of rare gems, runes, and stones that overwhelmed the travelers with their beauty and stunned them with stories of their magical capabilities – some could heal, some could entice a loving person, and one other that was greatly searched for, they said was able to revive an old man’s vigor. Amongst all the riches in the Isle, these gems brought the wealthier lords known throughout the seas to spend their gold in the foreign lands. Exploitation in the mines had grown exponentially, from authorized groups as well as from prospectors from far beyond, and before long, the frozen Dwarven cities that were once calm and deserted, became packed with unwanted foreigners. It was called The Age of Exploration, and with it came robbery, depravation, smuggling and general chaos to the familiar streets carved on stone in the face of the mountains. Never have the Dwarves worked as much, pushed as hard and lived inside the rock for so long. Under the Rego’s order (pressured by countless lords and kings), new mines were opened daily, swept of all its riches and treasures, and left for the wolves to claim nests. The Varlyrian Guard was sent to rule the harbor and the supplies descending the mountains, and battalions took turns by the entrance of every human city in the Isle. But the army’s efforts of control were effective just to a point, until smugglers found a new way to do business and exploit both the Dwarves and the mountain. It was getting out of hand. General Juan knew it as much as the Rego.

…

It was common during summer for the days to be hot and dry, and as the sun started weakening, a damp breeze would swamp the streets, foretelling an expected summer rain to wash away the stickiness on people’s skins. That night, as water fell from dark skies, the Rego woke to the sound of horns being blown by the harbor, as an endless queue of ships and galleys had formed. At his chamber door, the Councilor stood soaking wet in his silken robes.

“Your Highness, our ports operating way beyond capacity. The ships refuse to leave their ways as, apparently, their requests for precious gems and stones have not been fulfilled. There is a riot at the harbor and - “

“Unfulfilled? Well, can’t they leave with what they have?”, replied the Rego, grabbing a golden goblet and filling it with Kaliphlian wine.

“Your Magnificence, their orders have been paid in advance. We collected their payment, but lack the product, and more ships are docking”, said the Councilor rubbing his hands together, each time more curved on his own belly. “Our supplies have been cut, your Greatness”

The Rego peaked out his window and saw the flickering orange of the flames lighting the foot of the mountain, where the first Dwarven City was erected, and dwelt the Dwarven King. “Fetch me a horse, Councilor, and inform General Baiamonte I need his men ready”

…

The damp summer wind and the refreshing rain were long past, as in the foot of the mountain blew the of the glaciers that ran over stoned corridors before howling loose on the mountain’s scars. General Juan Rojas Baiamonte rode his brown stallion covered in crimson and gold, his scabbard kicking on the horse’s back. Behind him, other twenty men covered in boiled leather and plate, amongst which, rode Rufus, his son, weaving the white and golden banner of the guild. By the foot of the mountain, at the entrance of the first Dwarven City of Derem’tor, stood a gathering of shrunken men with thick beards that covered most of their faces, handling oddly large axes and hammers.

“To what I owe the pleasure of meeting you in our town, Rego?! I was told you were not so fond of a little chill” said a bald Dwarf behind a red fuzzy beard covering his cheeks and chest.

“You made quite the fuzz down at the docks, Rhloder. You know the docks? It is where those big turtles float over the water and bring the coin that buys the equipment and protection you are so affectionate about, but seem to have forgotten”, replied the Rego.

“You are the one who seems to have forgotten, Rego, that unlike your garments and fancy pants, some things in this world have an end. Patience, for one. And your precious stones, Rego. I needed not have come to this. All we asked was for you to regulate the trade of gems, raise tax in the savagery you call your ports and keep those brutes off our mountain. But since you chose to ignore all my pleas, and since you do not listen to reason, I hereby declare that all the mining operations from this point on, are ceased”.

“Ceased? On what grounds do you think – “

“You have been warned! Many a time. You cannot expect us to pick, drill and dig forever. There is a limit to where we can go, a limit to where our tools will reach. But we are past beyond that. To a point that we are losing lives and families to the mountain. The tunnels, they are treacherous and deceiving, collapsing each time we advance and take what is not ours. We cannot go further. Not like this. This is where we live. In here, carved under rock and stone are our homes. But the more we dig, more we are threatened. The mountain is turning against us, Rego”

“This is nonsense, Dwarf. Mines collapse! Deal with it and move someplace else, but you must not, by your own will, terminate an established agree – “

“Agreement?” the dwarf smiled sympathetically, his hands over his belt. “You don’t understand, Rego. The mountain is alive. It has manifested. We can move, aye, but the mountain will stand against. Let it heal, Rego. Let it rest. Let us reestablish our connection to the Gods and nature, so we can all live another day. Or else, push through, and madness and death is all you will see”

The Rego moved his horse across the snow, reaching closer to the line of dwarves. “Is this a threat, Dwarf?”

“It is. But it is not coming from me”, Rhloder turned and looked up to the mountain before disappearing in the snow.

…

On the morning of the next day, General Juan Rojas Baiamonte left his barracks leading a group of twenty soldiers and thirty prospectors to the Ridge Mountains. The group found no resistance to enter the Dwarven City of Derem’tor, or when reaching the Mines of Rhangvar, a complex of interconnected tunnels with its wooden oaken doors, distributed on the face of the mountain like shut and blocked frames. Galloping towards the summit, the wooden doors to the mines became larger and longer, suggesting that the riches were broader on the mountaintops. But, in front of every door, from the bottom to the top of the mountain, dwarfs lay on the ground and over the white mantel of snow. Some wounded, some unconscious, some too tired and sick to even lift a pick or axe. Yet, they stood to prevent anyone from entering the mines.

 

The last entrance, on the higher part of the mountain was marked by a stone sculpture of a dwarf holding a sword pointing to the ground, covered in a dabble of white flakes. Rhangvar – the dwarf god of prosperity. The stairs, carved in the face of the mountain led to a set of wooden doors engraved with iron spikes, so tall that reached the skies and disappeared on a frigid grey fog. On the foot of the stoned dwarf were the markings: Mines of Rhangvar.

 

General Juan R. Baiamonte jumped aside of his horse and walked towards the set of stairs. He was met by a runt and stocky man, his nose thick and red from the cold, a brown beard covering his chest.

“I would think again if I were you, brother”, said the short man, presenting himself.

“I come in the name of the court and Your majesty, the Rego, with the order to reestablish all mining operations this instant and put an end to this folly of a strike. Shall you refuse, I am aloud to use force, seize you and your supporters for disobedience, revoke your right to housing and share of land in the Isle. Resist and I will put you to the sword. I am ready to substitute you and your kin with a more qualified manpower, if need be, in order to reestablish trade and commerce with our partners, and–“

The short man listened attentively, not giving a blink, and not showing a sign of resistance.

“Well, go on...”

“... Our partners, and don’t try to impede me, dwarf. I will use force against you and any pygmy that lay hand on my man”, snapped Gen. Baiamonte.

“I see no need to do so, sir General. But I do sense you misinterpret the situation, sir. This is no strike. We wish to work, aye. We want no stress with the crown, no. Sire, we were kicked out of the mountain, you see. It is no safe to enter, no safe at all. Under no circumstance we are aloud to enter this mountain while that thing remains torturing our very heads. No, sir”, the dwarf explained as if sharing an ale with the general.

“You mock me, dwarf?”

“Mock, sire? You do not... I lost many a man to this mountain. This is no mocking subject”

“Then get your gear, gather your men and start picking”, the General tossed a picking axe to the dwarf’s feet, that poured snow when landed.

“I... I cannot, sire. I fear for me life. You all should. The creature inside does not joke. You can point your blade at me, take me head if you like. But if I enter these doors, I’m as good as dead”

“Creature, you say?”

“See for yourself, but I advise you not to wake the spirits of the mountain. Hear its roar, and you will shit your pants to death. It is not a pretty sight to die in loaded trousers, specially trousers as fine as yours, sire”

“Leave my sight, dwarf”, said Juan, as the stocky man started his descent.

At the base of the tall wooden doors, Gen. Juan and his men lifted the beams blocking the mine’s entrance. Thirty miners trembled in the cold of the Ridge Mountains, anticipating the intensity of a day’s labor, and questioning if the rumors of the mountain that lived would prove to be true. Rufus Baiamonte closed the envoy, as the last guard to lead the group into the mountain. Before entering, Juan put a hand in his son’s shoulder.

 

“I need you to return to the Rego and report our triumph. His supply of gems will be reestablished. Alert the merchants and return with wagons. This folly ends today”

“Father, -“

“I will not hear. Bring me those wagons and we will talk on the morrow. You are dismissed”, said the general bending his head.

 

“Just be careful, sire”, whispered Rufus, but the General was too far away, heading to the tall wooden doors.

 

...

The journey back to the bay took the whole morning and a large part of the afternoon. Rufus gathered a chain of forty wagons and needed over a dozen men to carry them through the frigid frost on the mountain’s backbones. After a day, the march reached the first Dwarven City, but Rufus fell out of place when he saw the city was deserted, and no man or dwarf lingered in the gates to welcome their arrival. Footprints deformed the snow uphill, showing the direction of a possible getaway. But then, he sensed the smell. A rotten and warm smell that pierced the throat and thickened the spit. Something burning.

Rufus abandoned the empty carts and with a kick in his horse, bolted like and arrow through the trail of mines. The narrow paths, once vivid with merchants and miners was now dark and lifeless, as if a curse had swiped all souls from the face of the mountain. Closer to the summit, the stench of smoke turned harder and ticker. The horse’s gallop lifted brown snow into the air, his breath frosting on his nose. Up in the mountain, Rufus glimpsed the stoned sculpture of Rhangvar, the Dwarf God. Behind it, a wall of black smoke circled the mountaintop and embraced the set of stairs that led into the Mines of Rhangvar.

The skies darkened and the ground shook. Fear lingered in the air, almost sensible to the touch. Rufus approached the entrance of the mine and finally, between deserted trails and pines covered in snow, he found his comrades. Some unconscious, others wounded, they lay on the snow, panting, and gasping for breath after being pushed out of what could have been their coffin. At least they are safe now, though Rufus.

The boy meandered through bodies and trembling men, overwhelmed by the commotion. Between familiar and unfamiliar faces, Rufus saw the fear in his brothers’ eyes. All the years of training, all the quests in the forest, all those nights unslept with spear in hand, not even that was enough to keep them from shaking. Whatever they saw inside the mountain, Rufus did not want to share. But amongst all men, the boy searched for only one familiar face: his father’s, but that one was nowhere to be found.

Up in the distance, fading in the freezing mist, the silhouette of a dozen men was drawn against the orange glow of the setting sun. Their bodies thick in width, but plain in height, were the last          reminiscent of those who once populated these frigid settlements, now disappearing in the fog, as if leaving a prey to die, running away from judging eyes.

“What happened here?”, asked Rufus, reaching a soldier that struggled to remain on his feet.

“The mountain... the creature... We were massacred. We tried to run away, but these tunnels are so mischievous, they... I though it was my time. I saw my final moment in those flaming eyes...”, the soldier babbled and sunk his head on his hands, sobbing.

The smell of smoke, burned meat, coal and ashes remained in the air, scraping Rufus’s throat, and painting the white mantel of snow with a soft veil of black dust. While the soldiers regained their feet, and assembled to leave this damned mountain, Rufus noticed that many of the miners and soldiers were still missing.

“Where are the others, brother?”, asked Rufus to a red-haired officer whose clothes were torn and tainted with blood.

“Some did not make it, comrade. The cave just... fell apart. When that thing... woke... Hell, I just ran. Some were fool enough to stay behind and buy us time to flee. But they couldn’t stand a chance”

“What was it, brother?”

“It was big, black. Like a giant snake, its eyes were flaming orbs. And its teeth... Hell, it was true, boy. It was just... all true”. The soldier looked away from Rufus and let out a long and lasting breath that covered his face in a freezing cloud. “The general... your father... he is a hero, you know. If it wasn’t for him...”

Rufus did not want – or need – to hear any further. Despite his efforts to enter the mine, the doors were locked shut from the inside. The guards were too wounded, fragile, simply uncapable to even get near the mines, what could have been their final moments. Rufus glanced at the mountaintop, where midget silhouettes sketched the horizon, but there only remained the thin orange line of the final hours of the day. In silence, Rufus promised the gods he would have his revenge.

…

            A flaming arrow crossed the night sky and landed on a pile of straw and sticks, lighting the dark path to heaven, where the souls of the fallen heroes would spend the rest of their days. The Rego closed the ceremony in respect to the deaths in the mines of Rhangvar naming Rufus his first lieutenant, and awarding him the star of honor, for the 28 years his father serviced the realm. A golden star the size of a cantaloupe with a striped fabric of crimson and white, to represent the blood and devotion of the ones who gave their lives to save their brothers.

            The following morning was grey and windy. The Rego remained on his chambers, while Rufus stood at his door for most of the day, expecting an opening for an audience. When he finally opened his door and called for the soldier, the Rego served two full glasses of red wine and sit by the balcony, where he could observe the canals and the Bay of Merchants, one of the finest districts in Varlyrio.

            “Your father was a brave man”, said the Rego.

            “One of the best”, Rufus bowed his head in a sign of respect. “Your Highness, I come to tend for different matters. I have reason to believe the Dwarves are plotting against your crown. I have reason to believe they are behind the events on the Mines of Rhangvar, where the lives of our men were taken”

            “This is a bold assumption, Lieutenant. Why should I-”

            “I saw it with my own eyes. Rhloder, the King of Dwarves is the responsible for my father’s death. His men flee the mines the moment I-“

            “I will not accept it”, The Rego answered sharply.

            “Your Holiness, we did as you commanded and took the mines, but we were cowardly trapped and attacked under their-“

            “Lieutenant, do you see these vessels trapped in the ports of our Island?”, Rufus did not answer. “I have promised to all of them an unimaginable amount of gold and jewels and stones and gems, capable of turning simple men into sons of gods. I relied on you, my most reliable men, to reestablish these supplies. Now tell me: where are my precious gems?”

            “Your Excellence, we were cravenly attacked!”

            “I asked for the completion of a simple task, and instead, you turned this into a bloody mess”, the Rego got up, filled another cup of wine, went to his desk, and searched for a parchment. “You have proven me that you chimps are uncapable of doing anything beyond waiving your swords and spears and looking strong. You are asking me to run against the only capable creatures of doing what we need, which is to explore our mines and regain our wealth”, the leader of the Isle opened the parchment and showed the signature at the bottom of the fabric. “The Dwarven King has just signed a treaty. Our stones will be restored in no time. More taxes, yes, but I do not expect you to understand any of my business”

            Rufus balanced the cup of wine in his hand, from which he did not take a sip, measuring his next words. The image of the dwarves fleeing from the flaming mines that trapped his father and took his life remained vividly in his mind. His promise faltered in his mouth with the known taste of blood.

            “At least let me fetch my father’s remains...”, the words felt unnatural in his throat, “... your Magnificence”.

            “To let you go back to the mountains and run the risk of you slicing the throat of my most recent commercial partner?”, The Rego snorted a suppressed laugh. “Don’t think me a fool, boy”, he looked outside once again, admiring the grey fog dancing over the canals. “Yet, the reports say the city has been abandoned, I see. And I am an understanding leader. You have your right to have your family, boy. And I respect that”, he swallowed the remaining half of his cup in large gulps. “Don’t make me regret this. Out.”

            The boy left the room glistering with golden ornaments without bowing to his superior.

…

            The cold wind of the mountains felt less uncomfortable in Rufus’s back, he noticed. After days of expedition up and down the mountain, he could have been more accustomed, or it could be his blood was warmer with rage. The smell of smoke softened during the past week and there had been no more reports of attacks or suspicious activities in the mountains. How convenient. Slowly and carefully, miners returned to their duties, as the ships in the harbor departed one by one.

            Rufus trotted passed the Mines of Rhangvar. It was no use trying to enter – the doors were sealed and not even twenty men would suffice to force his way in. He would have to enter a different way. Rufus continued his journey across the mountain, up to the second Dwarven City, then the third.

Mehlid’ravn was fortified with wooden watchtowers and stoned walls, barricaded with carefully sharpened logs, only a dwarf would be capable of carving. The houses, a mix of wood and stone, engraved with dwarven insignias and family sigils. Rufus reached the walls and was measured by two guards pointing crossbows to his chest.

“Lieutenant Rufus Baiamonte, to speak with Rhloder, the King of Dwarfs”

The doors opened with the clinging of chains. He expects me.

In the main hall, the fire cracked in heath that ran all the way in the extension of the hall to an elevated wooden bridge with a centered oaken throne was covered in furs of fox, saber, and ox. A short man with a red beard covering his chest stared, as Rufus walked across the yellow-lit hall.

            “I should have your head, Dwarf”

            “You are grieving, so I will take no offense this time. You wished to see me. Now, spit”

            “Where is my father?”

            “Your father is a brave man. He remains inside the ruins of Rhangvar, sleeping with the beast”

            “Because you left him there, and all his men”

            “Believe what you will, but this is no true. The ones who left, they left because of him. There are living because the General sacrificed. But had he and your commander listened to our pleas, no one would have perished. I saw him stand against the beast. Leather wings spread, her fiery breath spitting... Yet he stood, sword in hand as his men and mine ran for their lives. We left that living hell and sealed the door behind us. I was the last one to leave, and no one else would have left. We took care of the most, treated their wounds as well as we could”

            “So, you are a hero, then? You care for the weak and give them supper, then flee to hide behind your walls... Ha... I do not believe you, Dwarf”, replied Rufus.

            “Your father is the true hero, boy. But I knew the moment he stood behind, that his stubborn men, with their tacky, inflexible, and revenging little minds would not be easily satisfied with the truth and would need to point fingers and search for a villain. When you fail to realize how the true villain is right under your noses, controlling each one of you”, he sighed. “Of course, we had to leave. But this act of bravery and stupidity showed that we have had enough death over those foolish riches. So, yes, I took the chance to make the Rego accept our terms, and now we can live in peace with the mountain and nature.

            Rufus stared blankly at the crackling fire reflecting on the round-shaped shields that covered the internal walls of the hall. “We should have never entered these damned mines”, said the boy, finally. “I... his body...”

            “Aye”, said Rhloder. “There is another way. We can take you there if that is what you wish”.

            Rufus spent the night. He ate pork and chicken, drank more mugs of ale than he could count, shared stories with the dwarves and sang their sad songs before passing out on the table. The next morning, Rhloder, Rufus and an expedition of two other dwarfs entered the broken tunnels of Derem’tor, in the search for the remains of General Juan Rojas Baiamonte.

            Gigantic halls that echoed infinitely gave way to tiny burrows in which Rufus found difficulty to course through. The walls looked fragile, leaning over the passageways, hanging still by the will of the gods, in the brink of collapsing over their fragile selves. They walked through cracks, hang from natural cliffs and in one passage, they even had to use ropes to traverse over a frozen lake inside the caves. Until they reached a point after a long corridor marked by two columns of ice, where the dwarfs stopped.

            “This is as far as we can go, boy”, said Rhloder, his voice echoing in damp walls, as he and the Dwarfs remained in the shadows of the cave.

            Rufus lurched through fallen rocks, reflecting pools and columns of stone. The farther he went, the warmer it got inside the cave, and it showed he was getting closer to where he was supposed to go. He cornered a long hall and found himself inside a hall fully lit by a deep crack in the ceiling of the cave, from which sunbeams passed and warmed the room’s interior in frigid grey and white stone.

            Rufus stepped on a chain of rocks, elevated from the ground. The rocks started as small pebbles, that turned larger and larger, poking out of the ground like stakes. The rocks twisted and turned, like roots trying to find their way through the earth. But those rocks were smooth and white as snow itself. Teeth and claws, solid as bones. He suddenly realized, he was not walking over a chain of stones, but over a skeleton of a fallen beast. Dead.

 

            He pondered how weak, yet still fearsome that gigantic creature was, even motionless and lifeless. Rufus realized the fear they all must have felt while gazing through the wholes that once held his eyes. Rufus felt a sudden relieve, thinking that the miners could return to their lives of picking, and thought of his father, General Juan Rojas Baiamonte, with proud.

 

            Bathing under the sunrays that flashed on the cave, Rufus noticed another set of bones, leaned against the tail of the fallen beast. On its side, a shiny steel sword that gleamed with the sun. On its handle was engraved the combination of three words: Strength. Consistency. Trust. The sayings of the Baiamonte family. Rufus reached for the fragile frozen and consumed hand of the skeleton lying in front of him and squeezed it tight against him chest, for a moment that would last the eternity in his mind.

 

 

            Rufus found his way out of the cave. Behind him, the tangling of the bag of bones reminded him that his mission had been successful, but far from complete. On the freezing wind, he saw the stream of water on the horizon, the main cities, the palace where the Rego passed his days, the monastery on the woods, where a proper burial should take place. But Rufus looked the other way, to the dry and yellow, to the deserted wastelands on the far west, where bandits, renegades, berserkers, and outcasts made their livings. Exactly where Rufus needed to go next.

            …

Plok, plok, plok sang the bag of bones hanging on Rufus’s waist. Tuk, tuk, tuk, hummed the leathered sack on his back, starting to weigh and smell under the sun. His throat was dry, and sand ran over his face, scratching his skin and making his hair thick and parched. Invisible waves distorted the yellow horizon as the sun hit the sand and heat consumed the air. Scorpions and snakes were the living, who mocked the dried carcasses along the dirt road to the west. The wastelands. Land of the pariahs and social castaways, where men were thrown to be evaded and forgotten. In the deserts, holes, and caves, they found their ways trading favors, protection, and stolen goods. As social groups were formed, the wastelands deviated from the Rego’s established control, and while anarchy prevailed, so did the law of the strongest.

During his youth in the convent, Rufus and his brothers learned about the different creatures that wandered across the Island and the best ways to fight them. Giants, for example, were extremely dependent on fire and light, being close to blind during the night. Take that, fight in the dark, and you would have the greatest advantage. Goblins, in the other hand, were creatures of the night, greedy and keen, always prone to negotiate terms and products. To have a shiny gem and convince them of its rareness was to have them on your side. But Rufus was not searching for giants or goblins. He searched for a witch. Old tales said that witches appeared in nights of full moon to perform rituals and sacrifices, in which they learned the words of the gods – chants and songs that, combined with different ingredients, had nefarious effects to entice, persuade, dissolve and control. His brothers told the tale of the three sisters. Three old ladies that roam between the realms of the living the dead were known to hide in the deep canyons of the wastelands, catching souls and condemned spirits that meandered between heaven and hell. If there was a way to speak to the dead, the three sisters would know how.

Rufus counted days and nights, and not coincidentally, when the sun died on a red dried sea, the moon gleamed big and round, casting shadows over sandy tunnels.

Leaning on a rock toppled over a wall of sand, Rufus waited, analyzing the holes punctured on the craggy facade. When the silver light of the moon penetrated the caves, a blue, unnatural glow illuminated the sand from within, and out of the caves, came three pale figures as thin as dried branches in the desert, in tattered rags, drifting over the sand.

The boy followed the mystical figures until they stopped over the putrid carcass of a cow, consumed by the crows and vultures. They hovered in circles and chanted horrifying sounds of hissing and screaming, while the carcass gleamed in that bizarre blue light as if being evaporated in thin air. Rufus left his cover and approached the three sisters. One hand over the leathered sack hanging on his back, the other opened in his front as to calm the ghosts in front of him. Rufus carefully opened the leathered sack and took the head of a mountain wolf. Dried blood thickened his fur and maggots had found their way into his rotting meat. Rufus left the head on the ground and walked away, as the sisters circled their gift. His eyes glittered in blue, and soon, it all disappeared. The sisters turned to Rufus and floated in his direction.

“A sound human, this is”, whispered the witch and a cold breeze swiped.

“Would be a valuable sacrifice”, agreed the second.

“Yes, the gods would gift us with splendor”, endorsed the third.

“But, an act of goodwill must not come without a request... say, human, why the benevolence? What do you seek?”

Rufus stared at each of them. “I seek guidance. I seek knowledge. I seek revenge”, he said kneeling on the ground and stretching the bag of bones in front of him.

“Hmmm. The boy knows what he seeks and knows who to speak with”

“Say, human, why should we give you what you seek instead of taking you whole back to our world”

The boy bowed his head. “Grant me your guidance, sisters, and I shall forever live to fulfill your debt. Grant me your knowledge, sisters, and I shall forever live to serve your purpose. Grant me revenge, sisters, and I shall forever live to provide to you and your gods. Now and forever, my soul is yours to command, for I am your servant, follower of your rules, preacher of your will”

A deafening scream echoed throughout the canyons and Rufus felt his breath fail him and his body stiffen, as if he had been tossed under a gelid waterfall that washed him from within. As the dark night turned darker still, his chest burst in pain, his heart struggling to push out of his throat, and he woke under the frying sun, laying on the sand, surrounded by a green pool of a thick and viscous liquid. Displayed on the sand were a set of white bones he found inside the tunnels of the cold mountains.

“I’m sorry, father, for not being next to you when you time had come. Sorry for not being fast enough, brave enough. Sorry for being afraid. And I am sorry if I could not give you a proper burial. The day will come when I will reach you in that cave once again and hand you over to the gods. But first, I will have my revenge”

Rufus tossed each part in the green water, and thought of his father, lying untouched inside the cave.

The bones sank in the moss and a splash of green water lifted. The water began to bubble, and a white steam floated in the air. The skies turned from a vivid blue to a lifeless grey as the clouds closed in like a black curtain. A dark horn pierced out of the water and found its way to the sky. Behind it, a chain of scales, sharp as a Mitgardian axe erupted from the green vapor. Two arms black as leather and shiny as a blade stretched and covered the light, and a white set of teeth smiled back at Rufus, while a sounding roar tapped his ears. This black creature was released from the cold mountains of the north, and now floated untamed in warm Varlyrian skies.

…

Through cobblestone streets and flowing canals, through summer balconies with hanging flowers and greedy merchants, trough fish-smelling villas and wary stray cats, Rufus strolled on the city center, towards the Canal Square, where the court, the Rego, the council and every merchant in Varlyrio gathered to tend their businesses. This day, the fourth after the first full moon of the summer, the ruler, the councilor, and his followers gathered on the main square for a jaunt alongside the royal guard, to wave to the common folk, to flaunt their unending riches and unquestionable power.

Seven days passed since his last audience with the Rego, when Rufus left to his mission on the Ridge Mountains, to recover his father’s remains, and since then, Rufus did not interact with his superiors. Leaving his post unattended and not communicating with your pairs was a punishable act – a fine, maybe a few days of suspension and cleaning latrines for a couple of days – but Rufus was surprised to see his face drawn all over the walls of Varlyrio under a sign that said “wanted for treason”.

News ran fast on the canals of Varlyrio. But it did not matter. Rufus had expected to be pursued – collusion with obscure groups on the wastelands, plot with enemies of the crown in the mountains, use and traffic of illegal substances – one needed only choose which. Now that he thought, he was not surprised at all. Yet, he strutted. His chin pointing to the sky, and a crooked smile carved out on his face. Rufus reached the square and glanced at his brothers, all suited in full armor, surrounding a group of weak and outdated old men. The Rego on the center, waved to one side and the other, and when his eyes met Rufus’s, he stopped.

“Bold of you to appear, boy. Now lay down your sword and surrender to me. You are convicted of treason against the realm for conspiring against the council, plotting against your king, and ravishing against the people”

“Treason?” Rufus walked closer to the encirclement around the Rego. “I will not deny”, he extended his wrists to the guards. “But what you have been doing for the past decade, is far worse that whatever I have done in the past few days. For what I have done, I did for the people. And what you did, you did out of greed and thirst for power”, Rufus opened his arms and raised his fingers after each word. “Abuse. Diversion. Theft. Exploitation. Perjury. Assassination”. Rufus stopped. “Your days are over, your Magnificence”, and bent on one knee.

 

A black shadow covered the square as if the sun had been a blown off flame in a dark room. A roar echoed through the canals and panic took the cobblestone streets. An obscure creature opened its leathery wings and lurched over the houses surrounding the main square. Its deafening roar was enough to break the encirclement of guards and leave the Rego exposed.

The creature opened its mouth filled with infinite chains of teeth, as the ruler squeezed himself against the terracotta walls and beneath him, a yellow pool formed and ran to the flowing waters of the Varlyrian canals.

 

The Rego’s councilor was shrunken on the ground, and noticing his ruler stripped from all his power, saw no alternative beside to acknowledge his new superior. “All hail the new king, the Mad Rufus Baiamonte!”

Rufus laughed and his eyes gleamed gold as the sun, as he saw his future sitting on a new throne, under the chant of “Mad Rufus! Mad Rufus! Mad Rufus!”.

 

THE END.

________

Phew!
If you've reached this far, I truly hope you enjoyed the story an the builds.
It was a very fun story to put together, especially alongside such amazing builders such as @Gideon and @Henjin_Quilones.

Please, leave a comment and let us know what you think.
Cheers!
________
Louis of Nutwood.

[Kai NRG]

Fascinating idea for the story!  An intriguing read for sure.  Personally I prefer more realism and less magic and stuff but the snake inside the mountain was a really creative idea and so was the whole arc of getting a relatively unknown character first to a high position in the army and then to Rego without it sounding unreasonable. 

[Aurore]

That story may be long, but it's well written and very enjoyable! I had a very good time following Rufus' ascension from rookie soldier to Mad Rego.
The only reservation I would mention is that I did not immediately recognised Gen. Baiamonte's skeleton : while the story made it obvious it was him, I would have been expecting the skeleton to wear the same armor and carry the same sword as the minifig in the first builds. 

But guys, you really did a wonderful job with both the story and the builds! 

[kahir88]

Again, great and magnificent builds! The Dwarven gate, the crumbling cave, with the Piraka spine. The wonderful and huge canal square, beautiful. The story is well written, I would like to read more staby-staby, poisoning, and plotting. The usual things, when a whole guild is well known about these dirty deeds. Revenge is a good motivation, but they are in every corner. And in my opinion, there start to be too many dragons. :D

[Louis of Nutwood]

13 hours ago, Kai NRG said:

Fascinating idea for the story!  An intriguing read for sure.  Personally I prefer more realism and less magic and stuff but the snake inside the mountain was a really creative idea and so was the whole arc of getting a relatively unknown character first to a high position in the army and then to Rego without it sounding unreasonable. 

Thank you, Kai. It is always a delight to read through your thoughts, as personally, I really admire you as a storyteller an builder. So, having your feedback is much appreciated. As the background on the Baiamonte family was practically nonexistent, we focused to maintain a single storyline instead of connecting to much of the ongoing and established intrigue and conflict between the other families, except of the Rego himself. This way, were able to work on a clear arc and add much needed information for the Baiamontes. 
Even though realism fancies your interest better than magical extravaganza (and I'm with you on that), the mere fact that Varlyrio is a secluded island sparkled my fantasy side. And as we figured the other teams would attain to the stabbing, hypocrisy, lying and fight over power, what better way to swipe it all out with a mighty ferocious dragon?
Thanks for the support, lad. 
 

8 hours ago, Aurore said:

hat story may be long, but it's well written and very enjoyable! I had a very good time following Rufus' ascension from rookie soldier to Mad Rego.
The only reservation I would mention is that I did not immediately recognised Gen. Baiamonte's skeleton : while the story made it obvious it was him, I would have been expecting the skeleton to wear the same armor and carry the same sword as the minifig in the first builds. 

But guys, you really did a wonderful job with both the story and the builds

Thank you, Lady Aurore! We're happy you liked the builds and followed through the story. 
You see, I believe the General was skeptical about the creature when entering the mines, so he didn't go through much effort to cover himself ALL up from the start. But once they started hearing the roars and falling rocks, Gen. Juan Rojas B. put on his armor and unsheathed his fancy golden sword, then. That's why they may differ a bit from the first set of pics, to the ones inside the mines. 
But I can understand the confusion, really. :)
Glad you liked it, Aurore! I'm rushing to find the time to read through all of them. Can't wait to finish your story too. 
Skol!
 

5 hours ago, kahir88 said:

Again, great and magnificent builds! The Dwarven gate, the crumbling cave, with the Piraka spine. The wonderful and huge canal square, beautiful. The story is well written, I would like to read more staby-staby, poisoning, and plotting. The usual things, when a whole guild is well known about these dirty deeds. Revenge is a good motivation, but they are in every corner. And in my opinion, there start to be too many dragons. :D

Sir, Kahir. I feel insulted. There's never such thing as 'too many dragons'. Pff. 
Seriously, though. 
Thanks for the support, mate. I'm thrilled you liked the builds (mentioning the Dwarven gate, yay!), and enjoyed reading through the story. I see that the dirty deeds follow each and every inhabitant of this nasty Island, but it feels good to flip the table and toss a mighty dragon to shut those fancy-pants wannabe rulers once and for all. 
And really, it's been sooo long last I've seen a dragon swiping cities and burning villages here in the guilds, I'm starting to miss it. Had it as an opportunity, and I'm glad we took it. 
Cheers, man! Can't wait to dive on your stories too.
 

[Aurore]

50 minutes ago, Louis of Nutwood said:

You see, I believe the General was skeptical about the creature when entering the mines, so he didn't go through much effort to cover himself ALL up from the start. But once they started hearing the roars and falling rocks, Gen. Juan Rojas B. put on his armor and unsheathed his fancy golden sword, then. That's why they may differ a bit from the first set of pics, to the ones inside the mines. 

That's definitely a sensible explanation! 

[Louis of Nutwood]

11 minutes ago, Aurore said:

That's definitely a sensible explanation

AND intentional, of course.

[Grover]

First, let me say that I want you to win this competition just because I like the name Rufus.  Like Rufus the 13th apostle from Dogma!  Rego Rufus.  Rufus the Rego.  It's hilarious and awesome!

Excellent work to all!  I like the story!  It flows well, makes sense, and is well planned.  I like the ascent of Rufus the mad, too.  His motivations are clear, the madness is a great touch, and you did a great job portraying the Baiamonte family, from the limited description provided in the Varlyian thread.  I love the idea of a mad dragon-riding king on the throne as Rego.  There are a lot of possibilities there!  The only parts of the story that are not depicted explicitly are the golden armor as Aurore has pointed out (perhaps it could have been tied on the horse?) and then I'm a little confused as to why the dragon is eating Rufus in the last picture and not, say, Rego Amancio?  Other than that, however, it's very well represented.

On to the individual builds!

@Louis of Nutwood: Beautiful mountain scene!  I like how organically the dwarven statue blends into the rocks.  The doors look particularly dwarven, and I appreciate how you made them actually large.  So many times I see dwarven mines with tiny doors.  How are they supposed to get their goods out?  The other part I really appreciate is the pathway up to the door.  It looks great!  I had to build one of those for my shrine build a while back, and it was a pain.  You did a great job with it, and it looks like a well used pathway rather than some overly blocky or overly smooth mess (things I struggled with on my path).  I also like how you twisted the path around to add some height to the build, helping illustrate the steep slopes of the mountains.  Excellent job!

@Gideon: I didn't even know there was a 'Piraka' Lego beast (thanks for pointing that out @kahir88!) but you used it to outstanding effect!  I love the use of the muted dark bley here to give that feeling of being underground without having to build a full cave.  You have a great broken down feel to the build, striking the balance between polished and broken without leaving a cluttered feeling.  You do a great job bringing out a bleakness to the build that is rather poignant.  Outstanding!

@Henjin_Quilones: As usual, your dragons are fantastic.  Love the dragon dangling Rufus mid-air!  While the dragon steals the scene (nice use of the wing piece for an eye by the way!), the rest of the scene is equally beautiful, and I love how you used the perpendicular street perspective to add significant depth to the build.  The corbeling on the rooftops is fantastic, and I love the attention to detail, matching the color of the terracotta roof to the smaller dormer type windows beneath it.  The stone archways are fantastic, and the low angle shot really shows off your attention to detail on the high rooftops (like the white building).  In this case, I like the light blue water, too, so great job there!  I love all the little detail, like the pier post that is slightly askew.  Fantastic job!

[Louis of Nutwood]

1 hour ago, Grover said:

Love the dragon dangling Rufus mid-air!

@Grover , check again, lad! Rufus is right under the mighty Dragon. That guy dangling.. well, I don’t know who that is! Just some random dude on the wrong place at the wrong time, apparently. 

[Kai NRG]

56 minutes ago, Louis of Nutwood said:

That guy dangling.. well, I don’t know who that is! Just some random dude on the wrong place at the wrong time, apparently. 

I thought the guy dangling was the Rego.   Stupid mistake, I know, since the Rego is recognizably standing farther on. 

[Garmadon]

Fascinating story and excellent builds, team Baiamonte!  The background and character you've infused into the family is fantastic, and I really like the way you've come to this with the story-telling potential in mind and unraveled an entire complex plot-line for your entries, at the same time doing an excellent job meeting the theme and requirements of the challenge (although a side assassination or something with one of the other families would not have been amiss    But really, you were clearly right about the other teams, and this is definitely a way to make yours stand out!)

Now, very much like Kai, I am not a fan of the fantasy/magic side of the Guilds in general - although dragons are awesome! - (and those parts were infused into Varlyrio against my suggestions, I assure you ), and so I did not appreciate the latter third or so of the story as much as the first section; but your beginning and was quite excellent, and you do an awesome job capturing a scene and atmosphere with your writing.  I must admit, though, that the whole of it was certainly a way to think outside the box and incorporate a lot of the details of Varlyrio into your storyline, rather than sticking to the eastern cities, which I'll applaud!  There were also a few words I do not enjoy coming across in the stories/books I read, and I'd appreciate it if you'd leave those out of your stories, as I really do enjoy reading them overall and am delighted that you're going the extra mile and clearly putting a lot of effort into them! 

And I love that, even with details you didn't fit into the story, you've got the whole thing figured out in your mind - that's the way a writer thinks, sir!  Keep it up! 

[Louis of Nutwood]

On 6/5/2020 at 7:09 PM, Grover said:

Beautiful mountain scene!  I like how organically the dwarven statue blends into the rocks.  The doors look particularly dwarven, and I appreciate how you made them actually large.  So many times I see dwarven mines with tiny doors.  How are they supposed to get their goods out?  The other part I really appreciate is the pathway up to the door.  It looks great!  I had to build one of those for my shrine build a while back, and it was a pain.  You did a great job with it, and it looks like a well used pathway rather than some overly blocky or overly smooth mess (things I struggled with on my path).  I also like how you twisted the path around to add some height to the build, helping illustrate the steep slopes of the mountains.  Excellent job!

 

On 6/5/2020 at 7:09 PM, Grover said:

Like Rufus the 13th apostle from Dogma!  Rego Rufus.  Rufus the Rego.  It's hilarious and awesome!

Excellent work to all!  I like the story!  It flows well, makes sense, and is well planned.  I like the ascent of Rufus the mad, too.  His motivations are clear, the madness is a great touch, and you did a great job portraying the Baiamonte family, from the limited description provided in the Varlyian thread.

Grover, let me properly answer on your feedback, please, by saying how much I value that you caught the Rufus reference. Also, it thrills me to know you liked the story and that it "flows well".
Happy to know you liked the build and understood my intentions perfectly when I built it twisted to achieve some height on the steep slopes of the Ridge Mountains. Glad you liked the dwarven architecture too, mate. 

On 6/10/2020 at 5:13 PM, Garmadon said:

Fascinating story and excellent builds, team Baiamonte!  The background and character you've infused into the family is fantastic, and I really like the way you've come to this with the story-telling potential in mind and unraveled an entire complex plot-line for your entries, at the same time doing an excellent job meeting the theme and requirements of the challenge (although a side assassination or something with one of the other families would not have been amiss    But really, you were clearly right about the other teams, and this is definitely a way to make yours stand out!)

Now, very much like Kai, I am not a fan of the fantasy/magic side of the Guilds in general - although dragons are awesome! - (and those parts were infused into Varlyrio against my suggestions, I assure you ), and so I did not appreciate the latter third or so of the story as much as the first section; but your beginning and was quite excellent, and you do an awesome job capturing a scene and atmosphere with your writing.  I must admit, though, that the whole of it was certainly a way to think outside the box and incorporate a lot of the details of Varlyrio into your storyline, rather than sticking to the eastern cities, which I'll applaud!  There were also a few words I do not enjoy coming across in the stories/books I read, and I'd appreciate it if you'd leave those out of your stories, as I really do enjoy reading them overall and am delighted that you're going the extra mile and clearly putting a lot of effort into them! 

And I love that, even with details you didn't fit into the story, you've got the whole thing figured out in your mind - that's the way a writer thinks, sir!  Keep it up!

Garmadon, sire, I truly appreciate your detailed feedback.

It warms my heart (and fingers) to know you liked the story and praised a few references as, yes, it took us some effort (and sweat and blood) to put it together. We took it as an opportunity to add as much backstory as possible, and went through the effort of portraying different regions of Varlyrio, as you very well mentioned. I do feel that after this challenge, not only we KNOW more about Varlyrio, but Varlyrio has become more robust and rich as a whole after so many valuable contributions. 

But, when you mention "a few words you do not enjoy coming across", please let me know some examples, and I'll happily avoid them. I only hope you weren't embarrassed while reading about the Baiamontes. 

Thank you again, sire, for your support and kind words. 
Skol!

[Henjin_Quilones]

On 6/10/2020 at 4:13 PM, Garmadon said:

There were also a few words I do not enjoy coming across in the stories/books I read, and I'd appreciate it if you'd leave those out of your stories,

I believe he means “the” and “and”. Just kidding. I’m sure it is the coarser word for excrement and others like it, the vulgarities and rough language.

[Garmadon]

On 6/11/2020 at 6:47 PM, Louis of Nutwood said:

Garmadon, sire, I truly appreciate your detailed feedback.

It warms my heart (and fingers) to know you liked the story and praised a few references as, yes, it took us some effort (and sweat and blood) to put it together. We took it as an opportunity to add as much backstory as possible, and went through the effort of portraying different regions of Varlyrio, as you very well mentioned. I do feel that after this challenge, not only we KNOW more about Varlyrio, but Varlyrio has become more robust and rich as a whole after so many valuable contributions. 

But, when you mention "a few words you do not enjoy coming across", please let me know some examples, and I'll happily avoid them. I only hope you weren't embarrassed while reading about the Baiamontes. 

Thank you again, sire, for your support and kind words. 
Skol!

Awesome! - you're welcome; I'm glad you've enjoyed the feedback, and I assure you I am enjoying your work!  And you are definitely right about your stories and the challenge fleshing out and enriching the guild, so a thanks is in order to you and to all who have entered! 

Henjin is right about the words I was talking about - if you'd like, though, I'd be happy to send you a PM about it.  But as I said before, keep up the good work, my friend, and I am looking forward to your up-coming builds and stories! 

[Grover]

The "s-word" is considered impolite in formal English.  It may be a translation error, too, since that word can be used in other languages and does not have the same impolite connotation in those languages, so a direct translation may not be intentional.  For anyone who wants to know words you should probably avoid in English, go to YouTube and Google "George Carlin Seven Dirty Words You Can't Say on Television", but be warned, it is explicit (obviously).  He presents all the words banned on public television in the US in a very humorous way.

[Louis of Nutwood]

On 6/13/2020 at 9:22 AM, Henjin_Quilones said:

I believe he means “the” and “and”. Just kidding. I’m sure it is the coarser word for excrement and others like it, the vulgarities and rough language.

I would understand the frustration after reaching "THE END". To face the urging need to read more and more; the necessity to unravel the mysteries behind the Baiamonte family. Only to know that it was it, and everything else to be taught about Rufus remains untold. Ugh.. must have been rough. 

@Henjin_Quilones, @Garmadon and @Grover

Jokes aside.. Yeah, it is now absolutely clear. I consciously try to avoid them, but one time or another, they just slip through the editing.
I share the preference of keeping the writing clean and friendly (save some stabbing and bit of gruesome lore here and there), especially in an open and democratic forum such as this one, so I'll make sure to keep them safe.

Thanks again for the advice, fellow guild members!
For the guilds!
And for more enriching and engaging stories to come.
Skol!

[W Navarre]

Well done! What impressive descriptive powers, to call to mind every single detail of what is happening, I really like the passage where the Rego talks to the dwarf Rhloder. I think just one or two exclamation points would help!  The builds really bring the scene alive, and brave General Baiamonte was an impressive character! I believe I already commented on all of the builds. Certainly they are amazing and awesome, and do a very good job evoking the atmospheres for the various scenes and settings of the story. 

I do think the story could also use a little bit of rush, some adrenaline needs to get pumping through our veins... there was a good deal of suspense, and the final moments indeed were climactic, but I still wished for you to choose one particular moment and add speed and fear, and an urgent sense of time running out! That would have really gripped us, once you had the character of Rufus well developed and all the background information about why he wanted revenge.

All said, very nice story, good sir, well written and neatly thought up. All that historical background is quite amazing. All hail mad Rufus, indeed! If you win the challenge and Rufus is enthroned, I wonder if you would keep writing about him? 

In the words of the famous author himself, skol! 

[Louis of Nutwood]

9 hours ago, W Navarre said:

Well done! What impressive descriptive powers, to call to mind every single detail of what is happening, I really like the passage where the Rego talks to the dwarf Rhloder. I think just one or two exclamation points would help!  The builds really bring the scene alive, and brave General Baiamonte was an impressive character! I believe I already commented on all of the builds. Certainly they are amazing and awesome, and do a very good job evoking the atmospheres for the various scenes and settings of the story. 

I do think the story could also use a little bit of rush, some adrenaline needs to get pumping through our veins... there was a good deal of suspense, and the final moments indeed were climactic, but I still wished for you to choose one particular moment and add speed and fear, and an urgent sense of time running out! That would have really gripped us, once you had the character of Rufus well developed and all the background information about why he wanted revenge.

All said, very nice story, good sir, well written and neatly thought up. All that historical background is quite amazing. All hail mad Rufus, indeed! If you win the challenge and Rufus is enthroned, I wonder if you would keep writing about him? 

In the words of the famous author himself, skol! 

Sire Navarre. Another much expected review!
I'm thrilled you liked reading through the story of the Baiamontes. I can see now how a couple of exclamation points could be introduced. 
Personally, I tend to focus on the descriptive environment, and I've been considered overly dramatic one time or another. Suspense is a passion, but I recognize the action and adrenaline are subjects I must tackle with more care and punch. Thanks for the feedback, though. This is how we grow as builders and writers. Especially in a challenge such as this, in which creative writing is encouraged and there's a lot going on, these feedbacks are absolutely valuable and will improve the quality of the following challenges and submissions without a doubt. 

As for writing more about Rufus, well...
I really liked writing about the Baiamontes. Even if after deliberation he is not sitting on the throne as Rego, I believe (and truly hope) that what we've all gathered for the families should not be discarded. So many great characters, regions and environments have come to life during this challenge. I can only wish to see them again in the future. Yeah, I would love to write again about Rufus, Juan Rojas and Rhloder, but would also like to see them grow and develop in other plots and stories from other builders as well.
Of course, I'm merely a peasant from the cold mountains of Mitgardia. Keeping Rufus, Rhloder and Juan Rojas alive (along with their backstory, as well as Mychel and Meiyo from other entries) is a matter for the rulers of Varlyrio to discuss. 

... but wouldn't it be awesome to have a mad king with a flippin' dragon on his back to threaten the other guilds?!
Skol!

[Henjin_Quilones]

On 6/24/2020 at 6:01 PM, Louis of Nutwood said:

but wouldn't it be awesome to have a mad king with a flippin' dragon on his back to threaten the other guilds?

The dragonriders of Druidham would have something to say about that, I am sure. Avalonians don’t fear dragons!

[Louis of Nutwood]

On 6/29/2020 at 12:28 PM, Henjin_Quilones said:

The dragonriders of Druidham would have something to say about that, I am sure. Avalonians don’t fear dragons!

Why... fear?!
They can threat, aye.
They can fly over our cities and burn our crops, aye.
They can even take the roofs off our homes, aye.

But ye will never hear about fear from the mouth of a Mitgardian.
We know best not to ride those beasts, though. Nothing good comes from taming a demon.

[Grover]

On 6/30/2020 at 4:25 PM, Louis of Nutwood said:

Why... fear?!
They can threat, aye.
They can fly over our cities and burn our crops, aye.
They can even take the roofs off our homes, aye.

But ye will never hear about fear from the mouth of a Mitgardian.
We know best not to ride those beasts, though. Nothing good comes from taming a demon.

But taming and riding bears on the other hand...

Edited July 2, 2020 by Grover
Typo

[Louis of Nutwood]

14 hours ago, Grover said:

But taming and riding bears in the other hand...

Oh, yes. Good, friendly folk, those grizzlies.
But that. THAT... is consensual.
Life wouldn't be the same without them.

[Jerry McGlade]

The door is fantastic! Great job!

[LEGO Train 12 Volts]

So clean and so perfect!

I like the rocks with snow

[Louis of Nutwood]

On 7/12/2020 at 12:45 AM, Jerry McGlade said:

The door is fantastic! Great job!

Thanks, Jerry! I knew I wanted something imposing and dwarfish -- and angled. I'm glad you liked the result. Thanks for the support, man. 

On 7/12/2020 at 4:15 AM, LEGO Train 12 Volts said:

So clean and so perfect!

I like the rocks with snow

Thank you, Lego Train 12 Volts! We are thrilled our builds brought a train-aficionado to a castle-room. Glad you liked the snow. Mitgardia might tickle your fancy too :) Thanks for the support, mate!