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Found 574 results

  1. Sympatik Brick

    GoH 11: The herbalist’s cart

    Until then I hadn't been very inspired by the theme of this contest, and I also wanted to save as many of my bricks as possible for the Brickscalibur contest. Finally, on Sunday, just as I'd got used to the idea of not taking part, I got an inspiration that I hope you'll like. The Avalonia colors are obvious and the theme is respected without having to build something huge! Here's my herbalist's cart! Sylfaerd Gilric, a discreet man, lives peacefully in the village of Marginea, nestled in the heart of Avalonia. An accomplished herbalist, he spends half his time exploring the depths of the enchanted forest, in search of plants with healing properties. The other half of the year, he works as a traveling merchant, criss-crossing the kingdom to offer the fruits of his labor to the inhabitants. Among his loyal customers is Dovhakiin, the mage of the dragon clan, who particularly appreciates the natural remedies concocted by Sylfaerd. However, the herbalist's success is not without danger. Some zealous soldiers are looking for a rare plant: dragon's grass. Reputed to inhibit fear and once used on the battlefield, it has been banned throughout the kingdom after causing numerous deaths. If they were to find even a tiny quantity of it in the cart, Sylfaerd would be in serious trouble especially as the few leaves he hide in a bag of herbal tea are destined for Queen Alienora herself. Sylfaerd finds himself juggling his passion for plants with the dangers of his trade. His discretion and prudence will be his best allies in protecting his secrets and continuing to make a living from his passion.
  2. You can find a not-so-small trading post, not far from the village, known as Owhur. The residents visit the post almost every week once or twice, to sell, buy, or just browse the goods. You can find more pictures, in the Album.
  3. My plan for this challenge was a full-fledged elven merchant's guildhouse. Then life happened, and I realised I would never be able to finish it in time - even with the extended deadline. But I really wanted to participate; so here is an unassuming entry, just for the enjoyment of building and fleshing out Historica. PS. Of course, I couldn't help but write a short story. A story that would take place a few years before my main storyline in Embervale, but featuring the same main characters. Elmire's Couture House Meborin, Avalonia. The great merchant city of the High Elves. A place of awe and wonder, where only the finest was good enough. In the upper part of the city, Elmire’s couture house was the kind of confidential place where a few high-end, unique articles were offered to the admiration of selected guests. Trivial things such as prices were never, ever spoken. If gold ended up changing ownership, it was patronage of the Arts. A sign of recognition of Elmire’s talent – nothing to do with menial trade. When Lord Dresghar, Ambassador of the Dark Elves in Meborin, solicited an appointment, Elmire got a bad feeling. Yet the Ambassador himself was as fine as a Dark Elf could be: he had a charming smile, beautiful blue eyes and the refined manners expectable from a diplomat. Alas, he was also afflicted with a niece who had none of these things but needed a new ball gown. “What have you done to me? I can’t breathe anymore!” Alrune cried out, struggling to free herself from the garment that was crushing her ribs. “Get me out of here!” “You just need to stop panicking, honey, everything’s all right,” Dresghar placidly replied. “Really, that’s all you can come up with? I’ll stop panicking once I’ll be able to breathe again!” Ties. There were ties beneath Alrune’s fingers. If only she could loosen them up…She felt searing pain in her forefinger – but insisted. Hopefully those nasty strings would give up before her nails. “That dress of yours is an exquisite masterpiece, dear.” She heard Dresghar’s voice say in an insufferable worldly tone. “Youthful yet elegant, with just a hint of glamour. That’s how a proper elf maiden should look like.” What? To hell with elegance and glamour – she wanted to breathe! And now, from the corner of her tearful eye, she saw the dressmaker smile blissfully at her uncle. None of them seemed to intend to move even a little finger to save her. All right. Too bad for the dress – it did look good, she had to admit, but it was trying to kill her. Under the increasingly horrified gaze of the dressmaker, she created tiny, glowing darts of magical force from her bleeding fingertips. And then, unceremoniously, she sliced the back of the garment. -- Epilogue Smelling salts were needed to revive Elmire after the incident, and it took Dresghar an elaborate floral arrangement and two boxes of candied violets to obtain forgiveness for the affront to her creation. Alrune kept the dress. Even adjusted to a more sensible fit, it was still as mesmerizing as Elmire had imagined it. Two more pictures...
  4. My entry for Brickscalibur's "Enchanted Forest" category. And a glimpse of how winter can look like deep in the Enchanted Forest of Avalonia, where the elusive Tellurites live peacefully in their crystal caves... Close-up photos in the hidden section below. The cast!
  5. Outside the Faeril city gates, a cattle market is held every summer. Avalonia's cattle breeders take their highland cattle to market. Farmers from all over Avalonia come to to buy these robust and cute cows. Well adapted to the landscape. The location of the market is ideal for traders. It is near to the convenient taverns inside Faeril. At the same time, it is outside the Faeril city gates and no duty need be sent to the settlement. Something all economical traders appreciate. IMG_4964 IMG_4969 IMG_4970 IMG_4972
  6. My entry, as a team with @Sympatik Brick, for the collaborative category of Brickscalibur. Check his build here! And, also, a new episode in my main storyline the Chronicles of Embervale... THE BUILD My very first vehicle, and very first attempt at creating other Dark Elves than my main characters Alrune and Dresghar. I'm now very tempted to make a full-fleshed faction, Warhammer-miniatures-style, but I digresss. Here is a high-end but cumbersome carriage of the Dark Elves, traveling through the rugged mountains around Embervale and getting to know the local population... More details of the decor, minifigs and carriage in the spoiler section below. THE STORY Previously in the Chronicles of Embervale: a flashback brought us back when Embervale was ruled by a certain Governor Voronthir. Alrune had never set foot there, and Evrart was a sergeant for a neighbouring baron of the human Realms. As said baron was visiting Embervale to solve a minor conflict with the Governor, all of a sudden, the bell of the village made its ring heard… As the bell started to ring in Embervale, the quiet village became a hive of activity. Such a backwater corner of the Elven Empire hardly ever got visits from officials – even the local governor set foot outside of the castle only if he was really forced to do so. Imperial elves mingled as little as possible with the human populace of their most remote borders. But the bell was announcing imperials and rumours and contradictory information were spreading like wildfire. Who? Why? Good news, or bad omens for the villagers? The visiting baron was not the last to want to know more. Upon interrogation, the town crier explained him he had rung the bell because the miller’s son said there were imperial troops approaching. The boy had been warned by an adventurer. Who had heard it from one of the foresters. Who said a little bird had told him. At which point the baron’s sergeant had the greatest difficulty to prevent his liege from punching someone in the face. As the rest of the day passed on without any imperial elf showing up, most of the visitors from the Adventurers’ Guild left the village for places with more action and less damp squids. The baron, meanwhile, decided to stay. Partly because he had no intention to give up on talking to the Governor despite the hermetically closed gates of the castle, and partly because the local beer was excellent. And as he and his men were about to order their third round, a small black bird came to land on their table... “What the…? A crow?” One of the soldiers exclaimed with a large yet imprecise hand gesture intended to expel the intruder. “I’m not a crow,” the bird stated, scowling at the man. “Not everything that’s black and flies is a crow, you ignorant grunt. I’m an alpine chough!” An awkward silence was the only answer – during which the baron glanced at his beer with much suspicion. Yellow bill and red feet, you see,” the bird went on, unimpressed. “That’s an easy way to distinguish an alpine chough from a crow, which is all black. Anyways. If you get me a portion of this excellent roasted ham they serve here, I’ll tell you all you want to know about the elves who are approaching. Who were approaching – actually.” Perhaps it was the beer, perhaps it was curiosity, the fact remains that the baron ordered a portion of ham for this unusual informant. And, between two pecks at its lunch, the little bird told them about travellers it had seen in the mountains above Embervale. A big carriage and a handful of riders. They were what humans called dark elves, most probably, because they were clad in black and there were pointy bits on the (black) coach. The chough had spent some time perched on the carriage, and one of the elves had given it half of an excellent goat cheese. Then it had left them to tend to some important bird business, and the next time it had seen them, they were as good as dead. “What happened?” The baron snapped when the bird chose this precise moment to take the time to preen its feathers. "They were ambushed!” The chough answered with such a sudden wing gesture that the closest soldier spilled his beer. “Scary creatures! Cats and wargs! Claws and fangs – and weapons! They took the carriage!” "Any elf left alive?” The sergeant enquired. “Maybe. At least, I haven’t found the body of the nice one who gave me cheese.” “I would have expected the survivors to show up in Embervale cryin’ to their governor like little kids to their mama!” The baron sneered. “You dare to explain why you tell us rather than some pointy-eared rascal?” “You’re not even able to differentiate a chough from a crow! Don’t expect me to care for the differences between you primates,” the bird replied in the same tone. This time, the sergeant was not quick enough to prevent his liege from throwing a punch. But don’t you worry for the little chough! It dodged, and spent the rest of the evening enjoying roasted ham - while watching one of those classic tavern brawls that is bound to happen in any self-respecting fantasy story when someone loses their temper in a bar.
  7. I used my entry for this book III- challenge in the ‘Fantastic feasts’-category for Brickscalibur as well! “For years and years small domestic commerce and trades simply took place by the cliffs on the riverside. In time, Wifgrir, the duke of Dandelume, saw a great potential in the location in this riverside part of his municipality. Mostly due to its availability from water and nearby larger roads. He therefore ordered a completion of a small fortification and garrisoned soldiers within. With time of relative peace and stability the trading routes brought goods and merchants from near and far. The dandelumians could storage and bargain their notorious avalonian wine and earthenware for merchandise from all over Historica. It was common for the garrisoned soldiers to have their meals, large or small, outside the eastern walls of the fortification, to have a moments peace and quiet from the noisy commerce going on inside. This also gave them time to check the stored wine and see to the earthenware in an enclosed space.”
  8. soccerkid6

    Lakeside Chapel

    @LittleJohn and I built this peaceful Avalonian scene of a small chapel on the edge of a lake. It's an entry for the Religious Building of the Colossal Castle Contest. Evenings make a splendid time for Brother Alberic to enjoy some peaceful contemplation while fishing. The still waters and quiet forest never fail to lift his spirits.
  9. THE BUILD The Adventurers' Guild and the workshop of Guillemin, the luthier of Embervale. As soon as that "double arrow" modified tile (3396) showed up, I knew I was going to use it for a timber-framed house inspired by the place I come from - Alsace. It took me a while to figure out the design (and choose the colour)...but here it is! The border is designed to be very easily removable to allow further expansion of the village. All custom printed parts are from Briquestore. More photos of the interior in the spoiler section below. THE STORY In the last episode we left Alrune unconscious, stunned by a banshee’s wailing, her spirit drifting away in the ethereal plane. Will she be alright? Will her devoted uncle find a way of healing her? What’s for dinner? Let’s just let those fundamental matters rest for now, dear reader, and let’s have a look about a year earlier. Let’s go back to a nice fall afternoon, in the mountains at the border between the Elven Empire and the Human Realms. Let’s focus on a castle surrounded by a picturesque wine village and deep, dark forests streaked with turbulent streams. This place is called Embervale – a phonetic and misleading transcription of Ombreval, its name in the local dialect – but you probably already figured that out. Embervale has a long and chaotic history. Over the past centuries, it had been besieged, captured, recaptured, occupied, and annexed by Elves or Humans, by one faction or another. At the time of our story, though, it had been under control of the Empire for a couple of decades. The Elves had expanded the castle, improved the battlements, appointed a governor, and then seemingly forgotten about it. Yet the dreadful reputation of the Empire and the strength of the fort were enough to ensure peace, and the place was enjoying quiet, prosperous days. Due to its location, the village attracted travellers of all stripes. Merchants, frequently, and many wanderers from the Human Realms coming to seek adventure in the mysterious mountains of the Elven Empire. And on this day, on this beautiful fall day when our story is about to begin, Asceline the Head of the Adventurers’ Guild was gleefully attributing quests, selling gear and having drinks served to a colourful bunch of guests. Her business was thriving. The story began with a handful of riders stopping by the Adventurers’ Guild of Embervale. Four men, wearing the dark red and silver colours of the closest Human barony. ne of them, as Asceline realised when he loudly demanded drinks for his retinue, was the Baron himself. “I sent three letters to Governor Voronthir, and he never replied,” he barked at Asceline – as if she could do anything. “Mind you, he never gave me back that mushroom knife I lent him last winter!” Adventurers were starting to pay attention, always on the lookout for quest opportunities. “I’m afraid he won’t be able to answer you anytime soon, sir,” Asceline said. “Everyone is sick in the castle, and they have closed the gates to all visitors until it gets better.” “What kind of disease?” The Baron’s sergeant enquired. Some of the adventurers were now taking notes. “The kind that, er – gives rash,” she replied. Neither the soldiers nor the adventurers looked impressed. “Very itchy? Extremely painful? Highly contagious?” Still no reaction. "Did people enter the castle and never came back?” one of the soldiers asked, and beamed when he received enthusiastic approbation from nearby adventurers. “Not really. Some did. It’s not the kind of serious epidemics that decimate populations, you see. Just a fleeting and very unpleasant inconvenience.” Disappointment loomed over her audience. There was nothing heroic in facing a mild infection to retrieve a mushroom knife, and no reward had even been mentioned. A few adventurers moved away. But the Baron was made of sterner stuff – and had subordinates to take care of the dirty work. “Evrart, you’ll be going,” he ordered his sergeant. Who was, literally, saved by the bell as the bell tower of Embervale chose this precise moment to start ringing the solemn pattern that announced the arrival of an Imperial visitor. THE CAST Front, from left to right: - Asceline, the Head of the Adventurers' Guild - Guillemin, her husband, luthier - Agnès, their housekeeper - Pernelle, Angès' granddaughter - Mahaut, the village elder - Urbain, the apothecary - Roland, Guillemin's cousin - Two visitors from below the mountains - Adventurers (bard, ranger, fighters, mages) Behind, on horseback: - The Baron d'Autours - Evrart, his sergeant - Two soldiers
  10. Built for the SJ fantasy heights-category. Crossposting continues! "A nameless primeval seer have made her dwelling in a large ornamented stone tower.Wearing a hooded brown cloak she is seen walking around with her mysterious staff. A long time ago she left her order in the mystic isles and headed for the parts of Historica today known as Avalonia. As no others followed her, she established and built the great tower. The sheer hight of it makes it distinguishable all the way from the outskirts of Dandelume on a cloud-free day. The seer hold great magical power, guarding the four seasons. As a nameless being she is only known as she appears in respective season: ‘Summer’, ‘Autumn’, ‘Winter’ and ‘Spring’. Atop the tower she planted a magical seasonal tree that grew stronger and taller over the years. All types of creatures; from agricultural humans, wild forest beings to elves and fauns cherished the wisdom of the seer. Her magic controlled nature, animals and weather in the area. Many came to visit her, highborn and common folk, for an audience to maybe learn more from all the knowledge she had. The inhabitants can look to the sky to see the official changing of the seasons as the tree had a close connection to, and ruled all other nature in the area. The seer’s two peculiar birds residing in the tree will fly around but have their nest beneath the roots of the tree." Some closeup photos:
  11. It’s morning and the first beams of light have just come up over the horizon. Gyrdher, who arrived to Faeril the previous evening just before the city gates closed, has not yet awakened. He has left his parents and his home to seek his luck in Avalonia. Even though Gyrdher is a simple farmer boy without any experience, he feels strong and eager to explore the world. He has intended to make his living as a carpenter. A craft he has learned on the farm back home, where everything from the roof to the chairs needed to be repaired or built from scratch. While Gyrdher is still sleeping at the home of the gatekeeper, the city begins to come to life. The first place where the city is waking up is the fish market near the harbour. During the night and morning the fishermen have returned home from the sea with their catch. Some fishermen have fished along the coast where they have caught salmon and crabs, while others have dared to sail out to the open sea for fishing. If they are lucky and no storms has caught them, the catches may be much bigger. In the Faeril safe harbour, fishermen can unload what the sea has given them and go to the fish market to sell the catch to the highest bidder. Faeril is a coastal city where fish is one of the major foods for the city. The abundance that the sea provides allows the merchants to export fish to other guilds. To preserve the fish for the long journeys, the fish is salted and placed in wooden bins. In the house next to the market, one of the merchants has his warehouse. In the basement, fish and shellfish are cleaned and packed before transport to the other guilds. While waiting for the next vessel to arrive, the packaged fish in its wooden bins are stored upstairs.
  12. I continue with my quest to do builds and cross-posting my Dandelume-story and the Summer Joust. This is a build centered around the heroine Dand El Alume in the lore of my settlement. "Members of the elven company used to stay at the sanctuary of light during recovery periods depending on how injured they were. Spending time in this revered location was filled with light, kinship and union. The sanctuary bestowed every visitor with a possibility to heal; in heart, body and soul. For an entire year after defeating the spirit of the druids Dand El Alume lived in the sanctum. She saw light reentering her loyal elven comrades. They prayed to the gods, sat and watched the waves slowly moving against the small cliffs. But Dand couldn’t, even after a year, bring herself to forget…or to dispel the dark haze that lingered inside her. She still needed a cane to walk, her leg had not yet healed. A cane that had been lathed out of a branch from the very tree towering over her. The light from the house with the green dome shimmered and the ancient stone podiums were warm even in night time. As Dand remained enlaced by her inner shadow under the ancestral tree she saw Valedor embraced with light, he was smiling once more…"
  13. I built this vignette for the Summer Joust and thought I would incorporate my GoH-city Dandelume and the story surrounding it. More to come if I find the time during the summer… ”In the feudal keep of Dandelume there are plenty of small courtyards and gardens. Alannais, the daughter of duke Wifgrir had always enjoyed them. She would visit the oldest courtyard close to her wing of the keep for privacy matters, servants and others from the feudal court seldom went here. Alhough always followed by one of the duke’s soldiers, she would spend time near the old fountain, under the tree. She would read, think and dream. It was a pleasant solitude place, away from all the regular commotion going on in the keep and the busy city.” Flickr-album:
  14. Sympatik Brick

    The wine cellar in Marginea

    The wine cellar is an essential place in life in Marginea... people meet there, gather around a glass of wine... while others deliberately get lost in the cellar... but the staff keeps watch.
  15. Henjin_Quilones

    GoH 10C: Aslanic Chapel

    Aslanic Chapel Almost every block of Cedrica has a chapel or temple of Aslan, it seems, though many of them are of different traditions. Here on this block of Cedrica, next to the Elven Gardens, is the Chapel of High King Peter, of the High Petrine Aslanic Tradition. This branch is indicated by the crossed keys on the shield, and the high altar of the Broken Stone Table inside. Other angles: The ground floor has a bakery, run by Barty and his wife Flowri. They are famous for their pastries, but their bread is pretty good, too. There is also the barbershop of the renegade elf with dreams of kingship, Barbarossa. He's good with a blade. Upstairs is the chapel. An Aelfcat pilgrim has walked and sailed thousands of miles to visit this chapel, which houses a relic of the True Stone Table, which is said to have miraculous properties. The cleric inside is preparing for the liturgy, not yet vested, but making sure the book is set. Up a small ladder from the chapel one reaches the bedroom of the cleric. It is small and sparse, with a simple bed and a tiny desk for writing his sermons. Continuing up the ladder brings you to the bells themselves. They ring out over the city at the hours and when prayer is about to start. Out back in the canal, musicians compete with each other to woo the mermaids. Albret the Bard and Gripwood the fiddler each hope that Elsariel will consent to marry him. They should both expect to be disappointed. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Thanks for looking! I built this to add on to the Elven Gardens, since I had so much fun and did not want to stop. But since that category only allows 32x32 footprints, I decided to put this one here. Some pictures of both parts together can be found in the spoiler.
  16. Henjin_Quilones

    GoH 10A: Elven Gardens

    Cedrica City Block: Elven Gardens In the Avalonian Quarter, it is absolutely essential that there be at least one tree on every street corner, otherwise the tight-wearing treehuggers get a bit, well, nervous. And it's important that there be somewhere to get tights, too. Fortunately, at the corner called Elven Gardens, Avalonians can have both within a few short paces. Rear view: The tights shop is small and narrow, but it has everything that Taimo the Tailor needs. And everything that Fred the Forestman needs, too. But of course there is more to the block than just tights! There is also Scott the Scibner's Cartography and Copies Shop. And there's the Red Dragon Tavern, too. They would have named it the Green Dragon, as being more fitting for Avalonia, but then there was already a tavern called the Green Dragon a few blocks away, and the proprietor, Mikkel George, had personally killed and taxidermied a red dragon. It's not the busiest place in the late morning, but that doesn't stop some folks from being deep in their cups. Up one level, there's a cozy bedroom for rent, perhaps currently being rented by a masked bounty hunter. There's also a jeweler's shop, run by Jemli the Dwarf. And a candlemaker's shop. Caleb makes the best candles in this part of town, with a consistent, clean burn. There's also a bookstore, but they won't let anyone inside to take pictures of any sort. Mrs. Davis, the proprietor, hates portrait takers and sketch artists. Poor takers and sketchy artists, she calls 'em. Up the stairs at the back will lead you to Skruj the Dwarf's Counting House and Moneylending Services. He's a hard man, er, dwarf, to bargain with and an even harder one to be in debt to. You'd be better off jumping off the balcony into the canal below. Skruj has a small bedroom through a door from his shop. It's got a lovely view and even a cozy fireplace. On the same level is Harold's Heraldry Shoppe, where Harold Brunhair paints the shields of all the fashionable knights of the realm. The official city guard's shields are painted there, and some say that Queen Ylspeth uses his services for her own shield. He does every shape and style, and never has a disappointed customer. And finally, up a ladder next to Harold's, is the Elven Tea Garden, a most peaceful place to meet some friends and conduct business, as long as one is an elf (or at least a half-elf, with your full-elf mother's presence). Galaria, Dragon Mistress of Druidham, is here on holiday with three of her children. Down in the street and on the waterfront, or up on the balcony level, lots of other folk can be seen, including Henjin Quilones, Master of the Druidi Order of Druidham, and his elder daughter. A tree hugger sights the tree, fresh from the tights store. Going to the post office to send a letter to his dear wife in the Trifork. Discussing the day's news with purchases from the bakery. After a visit to Skruj, it's hard to smile. The canal in the back is a quieter place, great for fishing. And dumping out waste water. And while hugging the tree is always allowed, it is not advised that you climb the tree. You might regret it. ______________________________________ Sorry for all the pictures, but there's a lot to see! And none of the pictures turned out as well as I would have liked. But that's the way it works out sometimes. There's also the section that is for Cat. 10C, the Aslanic Chapel, and together they look pretty cool, too. Check the spoiler. Building 360-degrees and with full interiors might be the norm for someone like @soccerkid6, but not for me! So this was especially labor-intensive and time consuming. But fun.
  17. After a few years of making custom minifigs, I have come to realise that minidolls are by far superior. The are way more realistic and expressive, and on top of that their elegant figures are a perfect match for the setting of my storyline. So here is an improved version of my main characters, from left to right: - Grog, Goblin Guard of Embervale - Evrart, Captain of the Guards of Embervale, - Alrune, Necromancer and Governor of Embervale, - Dresghar, Cultural Attaché of Embervale, with Rex the Tarasque Cub. Much better, right?
  18. This is my entry for Category 10 C of the Final Anniversary Contest: the castle of Embervale...or rather, one of its counterparts somewhere in a different plane of existence. THE BUILD Inspired by the excellent game Monument Valley, and by the no less excellent art of David Umemoto. THE STORY Warning : it's long. Very long. Way longer than the previous episodes. So long I'm thinking of putting it in a spoiler section. Previously, on the Chronicles of Embervale: Thyrulnë the Fair, court mage and mother of Alrune d’Embervale, sent a banshee to her daughter to deliver a macabre present. Scuffled ensued and Alrune ended up stunned by the banshee’s wailing. Days later, she is still unconscious. Chronicles of Embervale Ep.06 - Confusion Featuring… Alrune The Lady of Embervale, necromancer Other beings Alrune was confused. She could think, she could move, but she could not feel. She was wearing her lace nightgown, but she could not feel the usual itching of the collar. She was breathing, but she could not feel air in her nose. She could not even feel her own weight as she moved forward. Forward, but where? High spires, sleek arches, brightly-hued vines on grey stone walls – it looked like her castle. But something was off. She did not recognise this archway, precisely. She extended her hand to reach a nearby pillar, and touched it. It did not work the usual way. She could not pass her hand through it, but she did not feel the cold and roughness of the stone under her fingers either. Maybe it was a dream. She closed her eyes – which did not impair her vision – and tried to concentrate on the energy flow in her body…or rather, in her currently non-corporeal envelope. First observation: there actually was an energy flow. Second observation: she could manipulate it. Deduction: magic worked, it was not a dream. Yet it proved unusually tiresome to create a comforting little flame dancing in her palm. She realised there was no other usable energy than her own, as she could not draw anything from the world around her. Turn left. All right. First, she needed to keep her mind occupied. Occupied with some useful train of thought, that is – otherwise, it would soon trick her into panicking. Go up the stairs and turn right. She decided to task her mind with finding out where she was. Not from a geographical point of view, of course, but from a cosmological one. She reckoned she was in some kind of spirit state, in a plane of existence where she could manipulate her own energy, but that did not allowed magic in the same way the material plane did. Which left several plausible options as for which plane of existence this was. She was most probably merely disembodied and haunting her good old castle without being able to interact with it. She could have travelled a little farther, among hungry ghosts and restless spirits. There was also a slight chance she had ascended to a plane of enlightenment from where puzzled superior beings observed the deeds of humanity. Turn right again. And, of course, she could not rule out the possibility of being in a plane about which modern scholars had not even theorised yet – or that she had not heard of. Cross the bridge. She could also…wait, what bridge? There was no bridge in her castle of Embervale. It occurred to her she was following an irresistible urge to go on moving forwards, but she had no clue where she was heading for. Nor why. She forced herself to stop. There is something behind you! She quivered and looked back. There was nothing. Of course there is something! Still behind you – only, the other behind now. Before she could think about it, she was moving again. Faster. Now it is following you. And other things are flanking you. Flee! Great. Now she was scared, had invasive thoughts, and was chased by hungry beings. She forced herself to stop once again and did her best to maintain inner peace. She could see her chasers now, pallid humanoids with empty eyes and crooked mouths. She cast a shield, a translucent, opaline sphere glimmering around her. No! That silly shield is going to attract them like a beacon! You need to move forward – this is the only solution. The creatures around her hissed. Indistinct, larger figures were gathering behind them. She struggled with herself to disregard them, and to evaluate her situation as coldly as possible. Grey stone, grey arches, everywhere. And mist. A dense, opaque mist that was flooding the whole scenery and blocking the view. Forward! See the light over there? It means safety. There was indeed light, a clear, bright light that pierced the fog, and she was drawn to it like a moth to lamplight. Unfortunately, her chasers seemed to be attracted the same way. They were now a whole pack, surrounding her, and irremediably moving in the direction of the light. Go with the flow! Don’t worry, the light will take care of everything… She struggled to evade the crowd. Creatures screeched and yelped when the shield touched them, but there were so many moving in unison that she could not oppose them, no more than driftwood could oppose the rising tide in the material plane. The shield was standing firm, but her self-control was failing. The creatures terrified her. The inexorable movement terrified her. The light fascinated her. Come to the light. She focused her attention on the light. It was appealing, yet cold and harsh – not unlike the inner voice she was desperately trying to silence… Trust the light. It was so familiar... The light, the voice… Magic, it was magic! Cold-blooded magic. Or, more precisely: necromancy. From the other side. No! She was being invoked like the helpless errant spirit she currently was. But this shall not happen – she refused to end up possessing a corpse, subjected to the will of the invoker. She cleared her mind as best as she could and turned inwards. No! She gathered all her remaining energy. Lowered the shield. Took aim at the light. NO! And let everything go. … The world turned to a silent, endless, empty white.
  19. Erdils story began in a fishmonger’s tiny cottage near the small river of Aerima. The river Aerima is one of many tributary streams of the grand Avalonian river, moving past Dandelume all the way to the hidden city Zamorah on the mitgardian boarder. Erdil's mother died in childbirth and he had no siblings. Growing up with an aging father, Erdils childhood was therefore filled with much work and less play in the solitude cottage. His father, Obardil could still get some fish out of the water but he was too weak to travel. Hence Erdil was forced to bring his fathers wheelbarrow with fish to the market at Nhymride to trade for other goods or coins. The aged father of Erdil was Obardil, a proud man that lived his life by his two inherited mottos: perseverance and discipline. His lifelong craft as a poor fishmonger had taken its toll and expedited his declining years. For more builds and story: Dandelume-thread
  20. THE BUILD THE STORY Previously, on the Chronicles of Embervale: Alrune met an old friend who passed her an order from her mother. Tasked to retrieve the embalmed heart of an ancient hero, she eventually got qualms of conscience and refused to comply. Chronicles of Embervale Ep.05 - A Wail in the Night Featuring… Alrune The Lady of Embervale, mage Evrart The captain of her guards Grog A goblin guard Seisiri An unwelcome visitor “Sir, Sir! Open the door! Serious matter, I swear!” the squeaky voice of a goblin shrieked. Evrart curled up under his blanket and desperately tried to ignore him. It was the third time this week his insufferable subordinates had come to wake him up in the middle of the night for so-called serious matters. The last time, it was about a nightmare. Not some kind of demonic horse, as he had initially understood, but just a bad dream. And they had waited until he had gathered and equipped a whole squad to eventually spill the beans. The screaming was going on. The goblin even started to bang on the door – and Evrart could have sworn he heard him sob. He came to realise the pesky little bugger would not stop. He begrudgingly left his bed and opened the door, only to find Grog, the smallest, weakest, nicest of the goblin guards, panicking in the corridor. “There’s a ghost with a corpse in the elves’ crypt, sir!” the goblin whined as soon as the door moved. “Sounds regular. Leave me alone!” “But sir, it’s a ghost of the Boss’ mother!” “What the…When did her mother pass away?” “No no no, sir! Not what I said! Not a ghost of her mother, a ghost of her mother!” Evrart sighed and rubbed his eyes. All right. He had no clue what Grog was talking about, but still: it was his duty to deal with intruders. He ordered the goblin to gather a squad. Thinking it a little more, he sent him wake up Lady Alrune and her uncle first. Whatever the Lady's mother had to do with this, it seemed to be a family affair. Then, once equipped, he reluctantly headed for the elvish crypt. He positively hated the funerary complex that previous owners had found tasteful to set up under Embervale Castle, a labyrinth of bleak passageways connecting an absurd number of crypts and vaults. Many of those had interesting architectural features mirroring the fancy ornaments of the castle above, but he found those displays of pride distressing in the cold and darkness of the underground. The elvish crypt was one of the most elaborate parts of the catacombs – and, indeed, there was presently a ghost inside. A bluish-skinned lady with fine yet shrivelled features, whose face displayed a smirk when Evrart entered the room. “Someone, at last! No offence, but hospitality leaves a great deal to be desired in this castle!” “Hospitality is for guests, not for ghosts,” he grumbled while scanning the room. There was something white on the catafalque behind the spirit. “Ghosts?” she laughed – a clear, but eerie laugh that sent a shiver down his spine. “I’m not a ghost, my fair sir, I’m a banshee. I have a present for Lady Alrune d’Embervale, from her loving mother.” She waved a hand at the catafalque and floated aside as Evrart cautiously approached it. A corpse. The thing on the catafalque looked very much like a corpse wrapped in a white shroud – just as the goblin said. As he stared as it, the already icy temperature in the crypt seemed to drop a little more and the Lady of Embervale entered the room. “Your Highness,” the banshee stated in her honeyed voice, and bowed. “Your mother wants you to know that you have greatly disappointed her.” “I always do so, Seisiri," Alrune replied. "Could you be more specific?” “Her Grace had entrusted you with a simple, basic mission. And you failed, if you may be so kind as to excuse such a severe word. But as a matter of fact, you could not even retrieve some helpless heart from a mundane mausoleum.” "This is between her and me. I’m certainly not answerable to an underling, and I’m not going to discuss the matter with you.” The smile of the banshee got wider, and she hovered towards Alrune until their faces were only inches away. The Lady quivered, but did not move and held the spirit’s stare. “Someone else has disappointed Her Grace, ma’am,” Seisiri sneered. “Your Halfling friend, the one she had tasked to ensure you would follow the orders. Her Grace kindly sends you her body: she will make a pretty little undead servant! Her Grace also says you need to be reminded you’re a necromancer, ma’am – it’s not good for you to be surrounded by so many beating hearts.” Alrune turned pale, and she cast a dismayed glance at her captain. He silently folded the shroud aside to reveal the face. And his heart missed a beat when he recognised the corpse: she was, indeed, the friendly, cheerful halfling who had given a book and a letter to the Lady at the summer fair. He nodded sourly. Glowing darts of magic whizzed from Alrune’s fingers towards the banshee, who dodged and burst out laughing. As the elf aimed a second spell, more powerful but hardly better prepared, the laughter of her opponent morphed into a creaky, high-pitched howling. Evrart felt his mind crack like a crashed mirror as the wailing increased. He saw Alrune collapse. He struggled briefly but faltered, and passed out just as three black daggers darting from the darkest corner of the room took the banshee down. be continued ADDITIONAL PHOTOS
  21. T-86(swe)

    Dandelume [Avalonia]

    Dandelume [Avalonia] The city of Dandelume is located west of the great eastern plains of Avalonia, midway between Albion and Cedrica. The city and surrounding areas create a flourishing territory with great amounts of municipal farmlands and small-scaled villages, all loyal to Wifgrir- the duke of the city. Dandelume leadership: Court champion, Lady Alannais, Countess Arianne, Feudal duke Wifgrir, Trandill- mage, Court champion The vast region moving from Dandelume all the way to the great mountains on the mitgardian border is more diverse. A landscape consisting of smaller woodlands, rivers and trading-routs.The population residing in and around Dandelume are humans, dwarves, fauns, elves and other creatures. Together they form an alliance under the reign of their feudal duke. Though first and foremost humble subjects of queen Ylspeth, ruling Avalonia from her throneroom in Cedrica. History of Dandelume The first settlers in the area were nomad gatherers trying to live out of the lands. It is said that they were following a herd of deers through the plains and woods. And in the fields they stumbled upon the eatable herb they named ’the red dawn’. They found that it could be harvested throughout all seasons do to its perennial abilities. In addition to a fertile soil, ’the red dawn’ made the nomads permanent residents, and thus the agriculture in the region was born. Moving ahead, from the finding of ’the red dawn’ to present day, the city of Dandelume have been formed in a slow yet perpetual pace. Attracting different creatures and clans of Avalonia to the region, several meager power struggles have evolved during the years. However, during the rule of the first avalonian king, Artorious Rex, the line of feudal dukes of Dandelume began. Wifgrir is the direct descendant of the first appointed ruler of the city. He is continuing the heritage of wearing a stag or stag horns as coat of arms in memory of the first settlers. In the great hall of duke Wifgrir the feudal city crest hangs on the eastern wall. A historic memento of the past but also a potential foreshadowing of future actions. The sword ‘The red dawn’ is depicted twined in the herb with the identical name. An homage to the first settlers finding the herb and therefore settling in the area. The sword portrayed in the city crest belonged to the legendary heroine Dand El Alume. Her name was gifted to the city. Dand El Alume’s tale dates back to ancient times and is a living part of folklore in Avalonia in general, but in Dandelume in particular. Dand lived during one of the centuries of the first druids and mighty wizards. A time long before Avalonia formed as a realm under the first king Artorious Rex. In a turbulent era of mystic and great dangers. Her many heroic acts are written down in the chronicles ’Bringer of the red dawn’ but are also recited in poems and traditional storytelling. In the ‘horn-squadron’, the knights are taught the chronicles of Dand by feudal scholars. They all aspire to one day be able to become the new ‘bringer of red dawn’….. Trade and crafts Dandelumes brand of trade are the many different refined wines that the winery’s keep producing. The key spice-ingredient always being ‘the red dawn’. For many years the citizens throughout Avalonia have relished the bottles coming out of Dandelume. The municipal farm- and woodlands provide enough for the regional population and the feudal army, but can also be used as export goods. The Dandelume-breed of cattle is said to be strong work-animals, and spiced with ‘the red dawn’ herb they even grant you pleasure in their afterlife. They are bred in certain dandelumian farmsteads spread over the area. Besides the wine and cattle, the third brand of trade in Dandelume is the earthenware created by the dwarves in the Wendelin mudlands. Digging up the moist mud is a hard work, the opposite of the more delicate work that the kiln-runners and potters have mastered over the years. All to create the various earthenware to spread over Avalonia. The oldest guild in Dandelume is the Wheelwright's guild. Formed by an alliance of skilled elves and humans. Due to the nearby trading routes and large population there is always recurrent labor for the guild members. Wheelbarrows, various carts and carriages in need of repairs or entirely new wheels keeps the guild busy. They are an important part for the export and import of goods in the trading in and around Dandelume. Avalonia TASK 1-6 Task 1 Armed forces of Dandelume All the different races from the population are represented in the regular army of Dandelume. Always ready to defend the city, its people and in extension answer potential call for aid from the queen regent. The armed forces are composed of six smaller legions: Light footmen (swordsmen and spearmen) Vanguard (Elite scouts, workmen and sappers) Artillery (ballistas, scorpios) Archery (bowmen, pavisors, crossbowmen) Heavy footmen (the court champions and the 'Horn squadron') Cavalry “Flight of the dragons” (a variety of mounted knights) Task 2 Erdils crew/entourage From left to right: Boroghan, Miadin, and Dweldin. In front: Erdil Being the youngest in the crew of comrades Boroghan is also the least experienced in fighting. He was born on the inside of the city walls of Dandelume, and therefore had the most priviliged upbringing in the crew. Due to his great ability to navigate, track and flawless orientation-skills he makes the perfect scout for the party. Miadins lineage is rumored to go all the way back to the first nomads that settled in Dandelume. A small tribe of fauns that wielded long spears, twice as long as themselves, at least. And this legacy still lives on today via Miadin and his other kinsmen. Dweldin grew up as the sixth son of the leader of a hunters guild in the eastern plains of Avalonia. When all of his siblings followed in their fathers footsteps Dweldin chose otherwise. Instead he sought the glory of becoming an archer in the service of the Dandelumian duke. Task 3 Territorial description of Dandelume The city of Dandelume is located west of the great eastern plains of Avalonia, midway between Albion and Cedrica. The city and surrounding areas create a flourishing territory with great amounts of municipal farmlands and small-scaled villages. The vast region moving from Dandelume all the way to the great mountains on the mitgardian border is more diverse. A landscape consisting of smaller woodlands, rivers and trading-routs. In the many farmlands and small-scaled villages the people of Dandelume go about their daily life-growing crops and keeping livestock. Some are cattle-breeders by trade and there are also some vineyards located in these parts of Dandelume. In the diverse area that constitute the Dandelume shire there's also 'the Wendelin mudlands', a very small and limited low-lying part of the region. 'Wendelin Mudlands' get flooded in wet seasons and stays in a marsh-like state all year, with a terrain consisting of cavities of moist mud. Parts of the dwarf-population living near this small area became potters and have specialized in digging the mud and creating all sorts of earthenware. The 'Port of Dondess' is a busy avalonian port in the municipality of Dandelume. Wether it be smaller fishing boats or the larger frigates the port is very much alive when the watercrafts prepare to leave. A larger ship has just started to get caught in the wind and will be leaving with mighty power once the sails are set." The Sanctuary of light is a mystical yet revered location in the Dandelumian folklore. Located somewhere south of the port city Dondess. The sanctum had a part to play in the great life of the heroine Dand El Alume. Task 4 HSS Current status and HSS -progress for Dandelume Task 5 Keep The feudal keep is located in a small artificial peninsula in the outer northern part of the city/municipality. The peninsula bears a distinctive mark of elven architecture. Task 6 Brand of trade The dandelumians specialize in three greater brand of trades: wine, breeding of cattle and earthenware. The wine and earthenware would be transported from production locations around Dandelume to the large trading post by the riverside. Where the trading routes brought goods and merchants from near and far. The dandelumians could storage and bargain their notorious avalonian wine and earthenware for merchandise from all over Historica. I will update this thread as I go along building and have taken pictures of builds and minifigs! The tale of Erdil Prelude A period with several years of drought and stunted growth have haunted Dandelume. Leaving the common folk suffering from severe famine and the storages to cry empty. Marked by the absence of the labourers, the windmill was left to natural process. Overgrown with weeds and the infamous red herb called the red dawn-it was not in its finest state. But when the avalonian rain threw itself down onto the crops once more, the windmill-workers were sent back. The abandoned mill in the outskirts of Duke Wifgrirs feudal dominions being re-established and the wheat growing again. A new beginning, and a possibility to once more become a prosperous and thriving east-avalonian farmland…. The abandoned windmill Chapter 1 'The beginning' Part 1: The fishmonger's cottage Part 2: The old Inn at Nhymride Erdils story began in a fishmonger’s tiny cottage near a small river. This was during the time of the new beginning of Dandelume. His mother died in childbirth and Erdil had no siblings. Growing up with an aging father, Erdils childhood was therefore filled with much work and less play. His father could still get the fish out of the water but he was too weak to travel. Hence Erdil was forced to bring his fathers wheelbarrow with fish to the small crossroad-village of Nhymride. Erdil would bargain his fathers fish for other goods in the market outside the old inn. Or, in rare ocassions, earning a goldpiece or two. This was a lively place compared to the solitude fishmonger cottage. And the young Erdil was most found of the smell from the small bakery, housed in the same building as the noisy inn. It was on one of countless times visiting the market he first saw Dandelume swordsmen in real life. He had been brought up on legends of swords and heroes, and in that moment his dream to become one himself was born. The old Inn had been owned for generations by House Quilla. Henry Quilla- Innkeeper and head of the family, a harsh and hardworking man. Erynna Quilla- Wife of Henry and responsible for the small bakery housed in the old Inn. Eireia Quilla- the innkeepers youngest boy and normally up to some daily mischief. Hauder Quilla- Oldest son in the family and right hand man of the Inn. Ceylir- A half-wit elven man that was left by his kin long ago visiting the crossroad market. Always jolly but perhaps not a contributor work-wise. A very close friend of the young Eireia. Part 3: The house of proclamation “Erdil travels to Cedrica to demonstrate official allegiance to Queen Ylspeth and to be acknowledged by royal decree as a swordsman in the service of the duke of Dandelume. He is accompanied by his comrades Dweldin (bowman), Boroghan (scout) and Miadin (spearman). The Queen herself, preoccupied with other more urgent business of the realm and foreign emissaries, confide the affirmation of new recruits to the Cedrican administrative partition. Many of these administrative offices are located in houses down by the port of the capital. Along the port and the many small canals several houses of power share the wharf with other more dubious enterprises. A system of narrow alleyways and houses cramped together create a lively place during all hours. Rats and rogues lurk about to find scraps of all sorts. The city guard patrol the area to ensure law and order among citizens of Cedrica and the many travellers visiting the capital. Erdil and his small entourage visit the house of proclamation, located down by the waterfront, to receive their official letters of affirmation.” Chapter 2 'On patrol in the service of the duke' After officially becoming a swordsman in the service of duke Wifgrir, Erdils early assignments consisted of patrol duty around the Dandelume area. Together with a small troop of fellow soldiers he would oversee the production of the dandelumian brand of trades. They would visit vineyards, pottery kilns and cattle breeders to make sure that everything was in order. Part 1: Dandelumian cattle farmstead Part 2: Vilohirs vineyard Part 3: Kiln of wendelin
  22. A vignette of the wheelwright’s guild house in my city Dandelume. I will post som history and further builds in the upcoming weeks since I have finished them in the order I wanted to for my story! Feedback always wanted.
  23. Gideon

    Avalonia concept art

    A thread for AI generated or other concept art for Avalonian settings. Reserving first post for highlights.
  24. My entry to the "Farmstead Figures" category of this year's edition of Brickscalibur - and a handful of hard-working citizens for Avalonia! --- Hademar Half-Dwarf had lost two fingers and half a leg to war. Yet he deemed himself fortunate, for when peace had come the Baron had granted him several acres of fertile land and a few heads of cattle. This enabled him to marry his long-time sweetheart. They were blessed with five healthy and hard-working daughters. And for years their little farm kept thriving nicely. Until one day an old friend of his, a former brother in arms, showed up at the gates with a frightened young girl. An orphan, he said. A poor little thing he had rescued from brigands. They talked about the old times, they talked about their fallen fellows and about the ones who lived, and his comrade soon talked Hademar into welcoming the girl in his household. And while he welcomed her with warm words and open arms, Hademar felt deep in his heart that this meant trouble for his farm and his family. From left to right: Hersent, Heloïse, Hildegard with baby Hemma, Heilwig, Hademar Half-Dwarf, his old comrade Renart, the orphan girl, and Hermine with her horse Hero.
  25. Gyrdher had traveled with a merchant to Faeril. The boat was docked at the waterside a short distance outside the city gate, at an unofficial market where no duty was required to buy or sell goods. Something that an economical merchant appreciates. Gyrdher therefore had to walk the last short distance into the city. Which he didn't mind. It was with some trepidation he looked at Faeril. Actually, he did not know what he had expected but it didn't look as impressive as he had imagined when he was sitting in the bow of the boat half asleep. Faeril's city wall was nothing more than a plank that marks the economic boundary of the city. Gyrdher was a little disappointed. He had dreamed of a noble city with high walls and watchtowers. The merchant saw the disappointment in Gyrdher's face. “It doesn't look like much to the world. Right?" He nodded at the plank that didn't look well built. “The city has not spent money on walls. When you enter the center of the city, you will not be disappointed.” The merchant scratched his jaw while looking at the plank. “And by the way, I don't think a carpenter will be unemployed for long in this town. At least if he is willing to work.” Gyrdher was instantly in a better mood. He helped the merchant unload his goods and then headed for the customs house. In front of the customs house a tired customs officer was sitting at a desk. It had been a long day. The sun was going down and soon the city gate would close so that he could go home to his wife. He licked his lips as he was thinking about the soup waiting for him at home. The customs officer waked up from his daydreaming when Gyrdher approached him. "And what are you going to pay duty for?” he says a little sourly, while the thought of the soup disappear. “My name is Gyrdher.” says Gyrdher little shyly. He had not expected these sharp words from the customs officer. "I am a carpenter who wants to find work in the city." The word carpenter made the customs officer stop mourning the soup that had disappeared. A smile spread across his face. “Then you have come to the right place, my son. If you can fix the stairs to my house, you can have a roof over your head for the night and some warm soup as compensation.” Gyrdher's stomach rumbles, which the customs officer laughingly interprets as a yes. “Good, I'll close the gates. Then we can go to my house and have supper.” Gyrdher thinks to himself that this day seems to be ending really well. A roof over his head and bowl of food. Gyrdher needs nothing more from life. Gyrdher works quickly. Fixing the stairs was easy for someone who had to fix all that was broken on the farm at home. While Gyrdher works, the customs officer stands by and tells him about his wife's soup that was waiting for them. “… and she only cooks it on Thursdays. It’s the richest soup you can taste in Faeril.” Gyrdher realised that he had probably missed half of what the customs officer talked about as he was concentrating on the work. But it seemed that the customs officer did not expect Gyrdher to answer. Gyrdher gathers his tools and turns to the customs officer. "Then I’m done and your stairs is whole again". The customer officer shook his head as he woke up from his daydreaming. "Good, good" He says a little tired and almost sour. The soup had disappeared from his thoughts again. Then he shined upp. “Do you know what awaits us?” He says expectantly. Gyrdher can't hold back a smile. “Could it be Faeril's best soup?” The customs officer smiled back even wider. “Right, my son.” Gyrdher satt on the edge of the bed after supper with a smile. “What a fantastic first day of my adventure. This morning I woke up at mother and father's farm house.” Gyrdher told himself. “Packed my few belongings and set out on a journey in Avalonia. How lucky I have been to travel with a merchant to Faeril. And then got both food and shelter over my head just by helping the customs officer with his broken stairs.” Gyrdher laid down on the bed. “I wonder what surprises tomorrow can offer.” he thought as his head touched the pillow and he was asleep immediately. Dreaming of soup.