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The Tales of Lady Gwenllian 10. Castle Palisade Concurrent with the temporary palisade around the town, a small palisade was built on the castle grounds. Temporary defenses for the castle grounds differed from the town because of the shallow bedrock that the castle would be built upon. This bedrock, and the location at the top of the rock outcropping precluded a surrounding ditch. The logs for the wooden palisade were placed directly on the shallow bedrock, and the wooden wall was shored up with rock and dirt at the base. The logs were staggered and reinforced with wooden rails for strength. Care was taken with these logs so they could eventually be reused for the castle timbers, since wood was in short supply due to limited logging rights in the Enchanted Forest (minimizing impact on the forest and pleasing their elven trading partners). To further reduce demand on timber, only the temporary housing for Lady Gwenllian's household was enclosed by the palisade, no guard towers were built, and only one large gate was constructed. Like the gates on the temporary town wall palisade, the gate was rudimentary, with two swinging doors, but unlike the town wall, this gate had a defended platform above for an extra layer of security. A wooden framed rock staircase provided access from one side, and the logs were raised along this side to provide cover to soldiers climbing the stairs. Outside of the palisade, Lady Gwenllian had begun training Gisela how to use a weapon. While some of the guards looked on from the wall and Mohatu stood close at hand, the women sparred with wooden swords and some spare shields Lady Gwenllian had grabbed from her armory. Gisela's father Staffen had sent word that their family had located the assassin who had made the attempt on Gisela's brother Bernaldo's life, and that retribution to the Varlyrian family responsible was at hand. Gisela of course, wanted to be part of the retribution for her brother, so she had obtained leave from Lady Gwenllian to temporarily return to Varlyrio. Lady Gwenllian had agreed on the condition that she take Mohatu and a small contingent of her own Avalonian guard for her protection. She was not keen on losing her new ambassador. She had further suggested that Gisela learn to defend herself, despite her ever-present and formidable bodyguard Mohatu watching over her. Never a shrinking violet, Gisela had readily agreed, although now in the heat of the summer sun, fighting the skilled and powerful Lady Gwenllian, she wondered if she had bitten off a little too much. Lady Gwenllian did not hold back and hit Gisela with the force of a kicking horse, numbing her arm with several hits to the shield. Gisela grit her teeth to push down the pain, ignoring her sweat soaked clothing and numerous bruises, focusing her anger at her family's dishonor on becoming skilled with a sword.

Conrad met many interesting people in his life so far. Most of them become his allies, few of them his enemies. But there is only a handful of them, who has remarkable stories, how they joined, to the Wolf Brigade. This is their stories: This is the story of Scarlet, the Courtesan. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- *Click* The door of the small cellar opened and filled with dim light from the other room. Three persons came in and strode down on the stairs. The first with light, soft steps, the second one with powerful steps, like he struggled with something. The third one slowly and accurately, watching to bang his head on every step. Scarlet quickly lighted the candle on the table, and while she lighted every other one in the room, Conrad chained the third person on the wall. - Alright. - Conrad put his hands together and turned to the woman. - Give him the antidote, and interrogate him. Darlin. - Smiled Scarlet. - If he didn't wake up after you dragged him down on the stairs, my potion won't make any difference. Conrad scratched his beard. -And how long should we have to wait? - I don't know that either darlin. He got too much from my cocktail, it would take a while. Scarlet was sure he heard a quiet curse from Conrad. The man turned around, and took two seats and hoarded in front of the chained man, and sit down on one. Scarlet joined him, on the other. They sat there for several minutes. Only the low sound of their prisoner's breath could be heard, and some mice screwing behind the wall. The woman noticed a small smile on Conrad's face, with a little blush. She was almost sure what was in his mind. - This reminds me... - broke the silence Conrad, but turned his head away, so the woman would think he searches the source of the mice behind the wall. His real intent was, to hide his blush and blithesome smile. - Do you remember... - How did we meet? - continue the woman, and she smiled the same was as his partner. - Of course darlin, that was a night, I can't forget easily. - and she winked, then paused for a moment. - I still can't believe, you chose me, to be your first. - Well, me either wasn't sure about that too. - continued the mercenary, and flashbacks came in in his mind. - It was after I received a larger amount of share from a previous encounter. We were in Avalonia, and our leader wasn't pleased with the local garrison status of prisoners. He called the day, and give us free time, till next sunrise. So we could spend some of our money. Back in the camp almost every night the main topic was about girls and women. I felt ashamed, cause I never shared a bed with one. And I taught this is my chance. To become a real man! - So, you walk in our brothel? - Yes, I walked in. The Madam was kind, she showed the establishment around, and started introduced the girls. Before I saw you, I almost choose the red-haired girl. - What? -giggled Scarlet. - Lice Lucy? Woaw, if you had chosen her, you would have been in more trouble. - she kept laughing. - Anyway... continued Conrad - You know the rest of the story. - Oh, I do! - stoped the laughing, but kept the smile on her face." - The last great deception of my life. Or at least I thought it would be that the last one... You could not look away from my breast. As soon as you made your choice, I grabbed your hand and suddenly we were in my room. Do you remember, what did I asked from you? -"Do you want to know how I got these scars." - answered Conrad. - Actually, you never told the story about how did you get them. -None of your business! - she replies - I used, to start the conversation. Like a little roleplay. But you were just stood there and didn't have any idea how to answer back to me. Then I understand the situation, so I changed tactics, and asked directly. But when I asked how to do it, you simply turned to red like a crab. And then you came up with that strange request... Where did you hear about that? - Some soldiers from the camp talked about this... Let's say.. It kept me awake for the next nights. - Truly, you couldn't make my job easier, maybe if you willingly gave it to my hands. - winkled the woman - I just simply tied you to the bed, as you requested and stuffed your mouth... - Catapult... - Conrad interrupted the story. Scarlet looked at him in confusion. - My safe word would be the catapult. Awkward silence. The mice stopped the act of their reproduction. Maybe one of them used their safe word too. - I never thought this could be any worse for you - said the woman, mixing pity and sarcasm in her tone. - Worser then letting me watching you, as you undress, then dress up, packing all your shit in a bag, including my whole payment, and bragging about leaving this hole, cause the Big City Life in Varlyrio. - mimicking the quotation mark with his hands. - I was different back then. I just wanted to leave Avalonia, and all the bad memories behind, and start a new life on the island. Well, I thought I could... - she paused. - In fact, you never told me, what happened to you afterward? - I hade plenty of time thinking." - Conrad recalled most of his thought, how to torture the woman, who robed and humiliated him on that night. Including Whipping, drowning, maybe impaled. - No one was looking after me in the night. Only in the morning, came my boss accompanied by the madam, to find my naked, and tied to the bed. On that day, I learned an important lesson. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Click here, for part two.

This old mill in the Avalonian countryside has always been a reliable source of flour for nearby villages. A couple peasants spend their afternoon toiling and relaxing at the peaceful riverside location. What a fun build to do! I tried to change up my usual style here, in both the landscape and building. My favorite part is the top half of the windmill, which incorporates this brilliant technique I saw from user Julien Andries.

It was a warm day, even for autumn. Only some small embers in the fireplace reminded about the cold yesterday. The council almost finished it's meeting, about new trade lines between the guilds. For the queen's order, the servants filled the table with different fruits and beverages. "A necessary break", she called it, but most of the delegates know this tactic, a little show of. Not everyone was happy with the break and the food. Lady Helga's bodyguard was a hardened Mitgardian veteran, he was ordered by the Elders to watch over her. Rumors were spread, not everyone in Mitgardia accepts the queen's decisions. Next to her, Lord Breck Daniesh the Varilyrion representative, he knows a lot of tricks in diplomacy, he is a cunning man. On the opposite side of the table Datret Marblebrick from the Oil merchants of Kaliphlin, and Sir Jovell, selected by de Gothia to spread the will of Avalonia in this council meeting. Of course, Ylsphet and her advisor, N'ri were still present in this meeting. The Nocturnian emissary didn't show up. Maybe he was killed by rival armies, who seeks to gain control in Noctornus. - Ladies and Gentlemans. - started Ylsphet, after she wiped her lips from her drink. - I think we should end this little break, and finish this council, as soon as we can. Only your signatures required, and we are all done for today. - Finally! -cheered Datret, and take a sip from his pipe. - I must send a message back to my wife. To wait for me with dinner. Giggles filled the hall- Good for you, master dwarf. - said Lord Breck. - If I want to send a message back home, I could deliver it my self, cause no ship will depart sooner. - Then let not waste more time. N'ri! - Ylsphet raised her hand. Her advisor stepped away from the fireplace. - Get the paper, ink and my royal sigil. N'ri took everything from the small table and put them down before the queen. She quickly signed the contract, poured some red wax on the paper, and stamped with the Royal Sigil. Baam! Echoed the hall, Everyone looked to the queen, but she was surprised like the others, and she looked suspicious to her sigil. No one believed she hit that hard on the paper, but suddenly all doubts disappeared. Baam!...Came from the door, followed muttering from the outside. Baaam! Echoed the hall again. The guards quickly start running to the door, Sir Jovell and Helga's bodyguard also readied their weapons. But before any of them could reach the door, with a huge crack, the door broke open, and two soldiers ran in the hall, using a bench as a ram. They weren't alone the other ran in, with readied crossbows. - Drop your weapons! - screamed the guards. - Drop yours! - screamed back one of the mercenaries with the crossbow. - Everybody, calm down! - gave Conrad the orders after tossed away the bench. - Lay down your weapons, we aren't here for bloodshed. - I know it! - Sir Jovell pointed to Conrad with his sword. - Conrad you fool, what's with you this time? I'm sure, you don't do this for your self. - That's correct, Sir Jovell. - lowered Conrad his weapon. - But still, lower your weapons, we are here, to remove a poisonous thorn, from the Throne. Step aside! - Who hired you wolf? And for what price? - Lord Breck asked it. - He is only a mercenary, he works only for the money. - But not this one. - an elderly person entered the room. - He works for the Crown. - Loremaster Vernoll? - the members of the council were surprised. - But why? What is the meaning of this treachery? - asked Sir Jovell. - In time, I will explain everything. For now, I'm assuming you, this is act isn't against the Crown, but to serve it. - answered calmly the Loremaster. - Someone in this room is an impostor! Everyone looked to each other, try to figure out, who might be, the impostor. - It looks like, I was the only, who got suspicious, after the queen's return. Indeed, it was a glorious day for the kingdom. Raavage was defeated, and our long lost king's daughter arrived just after it. What a coincidence. - Are you trying to tell us, she isn't the real queen? - asked Helga. - No-no... Queen Ylsphet is the real queen. But she brought a parasite from Mwamba. Someone, who poisons her mind, and forces her, into strange decisions. Someone who is close to her... - he stopped, and looked into the eye of his suspect. - You! Everyone looked at N'ri, but he remained calm. - Be at ease in your own skin for you cannot shed it like a snake. Try to be like the turtle, at ease in your own shell. - he replied. - Why are you so harsh with me Loremaster Vernoll? Have I done something wrong with you? - You are the impostor N'ri, or whatever is your name. You aren't a monk either! - Again, hard words. - replied. - Have you any proof? If not, your age must trick you. Come, I have some refreshing herb tea, in my chambers, will you accompany me? - My memory is sharp as ever was, this is why I'm the Master of Lore in this castle, not you! - said the words Vernoll, not with anger, but with proud in his voice. - Do you need proof? I will tell you, what did I learn from the residents of Mwamba. Every eye turned to the old Loremaster: - I hired the Wolfs, to learn more about this island, its residents. I do not trust anyone from the queen's men, they can be... manipulated easily. The Wolfs arrived not long ago, with everything to busted you! - he licked his lips. - The residents told them about a monk order, living on the islands, but they not heard from them a long time ago. One of the oldest women told them, they were driven away by evil spirits. Conjured by Witch Doctors! - Witch Doctors? - laughed Datret. - What are they? Healers for hags? - and took another sip from his pipe. - No, they are some kind of shamans, or priests, who communicate with the spirit world. - answered Conrad. - The western island is full of their huts, totems, and charms. We searched the island, we didn't find any of them, but we felt some watchful presence. - he stopped for a brief moment and looked to the old Loremaster. - But we found neither the monks too... Only deserted ruins. - But that's impossible! - Cried out Ylsphet. - I came back from them not long ago. What could happen to them, in such a short time? We must send help there! - I don't think it is necessary, my Queen. - replyed Conrad, but he didn't look in her eyes, he watched someone else. - The place was abandoned years ago. My hound master, Boris is an excellent tracker. We only found strange dolls. - Conrad saw N'ri's eye twitched a bit. - They bore the same markings, what we found at the witch doctors' huts. - That's terrible! - wondered Helga. - But how can this be possible? If Ylsphet came back a few years ago, but the monks are missing more years then that. - There is a solution. - started Vernoll. - The residents of Mwamba told more to us about the witch doctors. They not only can conjure up spirits, but they can control others' body and minds. Someone hired the witch doctors, they captured you, my queen. Planted false memories about the monks. And when the time was at hand, they send you back as a puppet, to rule the kingdom, as they wished. - That's ridiculous! - laughed N'ri, and walk near to the fireplace. - Have you anything, to prove it Loremaster? - This. - said Vernoll, and stepped closer to the table, while reached inside his pocket for something. He put a small female doll on the table. - The Wolfs found more of this doll on the island. Voodoo-Dolls, they call it. they were there in every hut, and in the ruins too. But this one. - he pointed to the doll on the table. - This doll is from your room N'ri. Everyone turned to N'ri, maybe he can come up with some explanation. But he remained calm. He watched the small embers in the fireplace. - Let's finish this comedy Lord Vernoll. Your attempt, to frighten the crow and me is futile. This, tale of yours and your comedians are no longer funny. You have no proof about the monk disappearance, about the so-called witch doctors and evil spirits of your, and you only can show us a ragdoll, with the queen's hair tied to it, so I can mind control her like the witch doctors on the island? I advise you to leave with your dogs and start praying, for the queen doesn't punish you for this bad joke. - Wait! - said Jovell, lowered his sword and looked to the doll on the table. A reddish hair indeed was tied to the doll's body. - The Loremaster didn't say anything about whats with the doll's hair. And how the witch doctors use the dolls to bend their victim's will. How do you know it? - Yeah. - put down his pipe Datret. - What's with this all about N'ri? Chaos started. Everyone asked different questions. The guards were no longer sure, where to point their weapons. Even Ylsphet didn't move, she stood there like a statue, something wasn't right about her. N'ri used this turmoil, he quickly reached in his pocket and poured some dust in on the embers. Huge flames burst out from the fireplace, Even the bars were torn out. With a hand-gesture, N'ri pushed the flames in the direction of Vernoll, causing mass destruction. The first victim was an unware guard, the flames consumed him just in a second. The next one could be Lady Helga, but her bodyguard tossed her across the table, sacrificing himself instead. As the flames burned out, only piles of ashes remained from those who were in the path of the flames. N'ri uses this advantage, to escape through the window. But Conrad saw his intentions, and ordered his man, to shoot him down. One of his men readied the crossbow and fired a bolt at N'ri, But no one saw this coming from. Ylsphet suddenly moved, into the direction of the fired bolt, to save N'ri from death. The bolt hit her on her left shoulder, buying enough time to N'ri to escape through the window. With a loud crash, he jumped out, and turned into a shadowy smoke, and disappeared in the distance. - The queen is injured! Quickly, call for a healer! - yelled Lord Breck. - The queen is injured! Call for a healer! - the echoes came from the corridors of the castle... -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The crystal orb faded. The small room descended into darkness, but only for a moment. The torches quickly lighted via magic and lighted the room. Five robed figures stood around the orb. Wearing hoods, and skull masks. - We are screwed! - said the brown-robed figure. - Relax, this was only a minor setback. - calmed him the green-robed. - We are not yet discovered. Only our puppet was discovered. - But she is dead! - the brow figure pointed to the orb. - We all saw it in the orb, at the end! - She isn't! - a voice filled the small room, it wasn't coming from any of the robed figures, but from the orb. A face appeared in the crystal, the twisted head of N'ri. - She is weak, but she is alive. I can feel it. My memory ended, when I escaped through the window that day. - Then, if she recovers, can we continue our plans? - asked the red-robed from N'ri. - I don't think so. - replyed to him, the black-robed. - We are not yet discovered, but they know our present. They won't let her rule the kingdom until our threat is dealt with. Silence descended into the room, but only for a minute. - I suggest we continue our plan, as we planned. - broke the silence the black-robed again. - We remain in the shadow, like until now. We will pull the strings but with more caution this time. If we not. - looked to the brow-robed figure. - We are screwed... Now, let's collect our selves. Are the shipments and provisions ready? - The provisions are ready, as planned. - answered the purple-robed figure. - We are a bit behind the schedule with the spears, we did not receive the promised wood, from Mitgardia. But the swords, maces, and axes are ready - said the red-robed figure. He looked suspicious to the brown-robed figure. - Yes... well... some of the merchants are not cooperating with us... - stuttered the brow-robed. - We can arrange some... deaths, to help our cause. - offered the green-robed figure. - Our contracts will gladly help us. - Good. - noded the black-robed. - We can still pull this together. And after this, we will restore our former glory in Historica. - he took a brief silence before he continued. - For the Skulls! - For the Skulls! -repeated the others. This build supports Queen Ylsphet's reign. Altho I injured her badly :D

There is a small, noisy workshop, near the small town, in Avalonia. The owner saw a lot of winters, he is a professional clockmaker. He already does thousands of custom ordered clocks. He learned this profession, from the gnomes of Kaliphlin, and perfect it with wonderful elven woodcarving technics from Avalonia. Every masterpiece is unique. Many great houses already have at least one of his works. The workshop is a little mess, but he knows his ways in the chaos. The floor is littered with wood chips from the carving, gears, springs… even a half-eaten sandwich is hiding somewhere in the corner. We can see his current project. This will be a gift to Queen Ylsphet. This clock not only shows time, but with every Tick, a king shows up, and with every Tock, a queen shows up instead. Every figure is hand-carved out of wood, and hand-painted, by the old clockmaker. Also, this is build got motions too:

The Tales of Lady Gwenllian 9. Prenmôr Forge One of the most important buildings in Prenmôr was the smithy. It was to be the first permanent structure in the castle, as a blacksmith was needed to prepare (and repair) nails, tools, weapons, and other miscellaneous steel and iron items. The need for a forge was immediate, so it was built with the first load of stone from the quarries and had little decoration. The initial stone from the quarries was irregular and contained smaller pieces than would eventually be used for the castle walls, so the blacksmith shop had a distinct appearance. It was intentionally located in what would become the inner ward for security and to ensure a steady supply of weapons and armor should the castle come under attack. Fire was always a concern in the confined space of a castle, so the smithy was made from stone, located near the well for a supply of water, and placed apart from the residential structures. To further mitigate fire risk, Lady Gwenllian purchased expensive slate from a nearby dwarven mine for the roof. The smithy's distinct appearance was not just due to its stone: the roof sloped one direction and only two small windows appeared in the side walls. Since the back of the smithy would eventually become part of the inner curtain a vaulted roof was unnecessary, and since the windows would eventually face the gatehouse and the inner curtain walls, their use as light sources was limited. Thus, two lanterns were hung inside the smithy to supplement the lighting. Lady Gwenllian and Lady Seren planned for the future by designing a forge large enough for a master smith that they hoped to eventually attract to the site. Despite being large, the forge had enough conveniences (such as a bellows with a pull chain) so that a single blacksmith could work alone if need be. A large horizontal window at the front doubled as a work counter, let in most of the light and fresh air, and provided an exit for the heat of the forge during warm months. This window was closed by a large wooden shutter that could be kept closed at night and in the winter. A stone shelf near the forge contained charcoal fuel, and several log rounds would hold work, tools, and the all-important anvil. A huge bellows would blow air into the forge to keep the coals hot enough for steel. Iron bloom, wrought iron rods, and steel stock were kept in crates and barrels around the room. Outside, barrels collected rain water runoff from the roof to supplement the water supply in the forge. A small bucket of water was located in the forge for immediate use. Lady Gwenllian’s blacksmith was none other than Sven, one of her family's blacksmiths from back in Albers. Sven had been raised in Mitgardia, where he fought and sailed, but had also apprenticed for a few years to a dwarven blacksmith. Sven was not a master of the forge, but his nails, horseshoes, and various tools were functional. His apprenticeship had taught him to let form follow function, and though his work was not always pretty, it could withstand quite a bit of abuse. At the beginning of the summer, the forge fired up for the first time. Raw iron bloom was smelted in a makeshift clay brick furnace in the yard, then stored in piles in the smithy. Sven wrought this sponge iron and stored it as bars and plates for tools, weapons, and armor. The initial pieces consisted mostly of nails and a few repairs on plows, picks, and shovels, none of which taxed the capacity of the huge smithy. Sven set up a cot in the back of the forge that became his temporary home until the permanent apartments were built, which was just fine with him, as he was the oldest of the household and was pleased to sleep in warm, a water-tight building. After watching Sven at work, Lady Seren’s daughter, Alis, became interested in smithing, and with Lady Seren's permission, Sven took her on as his apprentice. She worked the bellows, fed the fire, collected charcoal, fetched water, and practiced working on scraps of iron and steel as Sven handled the main load of work. By mid-summer, Alis had made great progress and was helping make nails, while Sven was starting to make more tools and even a few spearheads for rudimentary defense. Being more sociable, Alis also routinely dealt with customers, which greatly improved the relations between the workers and the somewhat curmudgeonly Sven. Particularly with the more unruly customers.

The Tales of Lady Gwenllian 8. Ambassador Gisela Due to the recent attempt on his son’s life, Staffen Conzaga decided to send his children away from him for their safety, choosing a different location across Historica for each. Distrustful and crafty by nature, Staffen sent false ‘official’ word of the locations and travel plans of each of his children ahead of them to confuse potential attacks. Only his daughter Gisela stayed behind in Varlyrio, but even this was a ruse. After a few weeks at home, Gisela set off to attend a concert of one of her favorite Nocturnian bands who were playing a show in Avalonia. She traveled light, and by all appearances, she was only going to be away for a few days. However, Staffen had secretly met with Gisela and her bodyguard Mohatu, directing them to attend the heavily guarded concert and connect with the many lords in attendance to secure a safe location for Gisela to reside while Staffen ruthlessly hunted down the source of the attack. Gisela was annoyed: she did not fear assassins and felt that she could take care of herself. She was not about to disobey her father when he was so furious, but she had little intention of begging some foreign lord for shelter while her family was under attack. Thus, she saw an opportunity to go to a concert, have some fun, and return home ‘unsuccessful’. She took one of her father’s nicer ships (loaded with all the comforts of home) across the sea, accompanied by her bodyguard Mohatu and several servants. Her ship anchored in the mouth of the Afondraig Riverat the fledgling rural community of Prenmôr and here she had attended a concert of The Rolling Bones. The concert was heavily guarded due to the number of nobles in attendance, and had drawn a huge crowd from across all the guilds. Gisela had enjoyed herself and the music, happy to be anonymous for a night, lost in the crowd. She hadn’t made a great effort to meet with the lords and ladies as she was more interested in listening to the music. The few she had met were from impoverished communities in Avalonia, the frozen wasteland of Mitgardia, or the desolate sands of Kaliphlin, none of which were appealing to her. At the conclusion of the concert, when Gisela had searched for accommodations for the night, she had found that this area was terribly underdeveloped, without a single inn or tavern yet. Faced with the unappealing choice of demanding shelter of some dirty peasant family or spending the night on her ship moored in the river, she chose the latter. In the morning, she had a mind to set sail back home, but, being the astute politician, had thought the better of it and decided to meet the local lord of this new community. Although she had no interest in asking the lord for a place to live, she had learned at an early age that it paid to make as many connections as possible, particularly among the nobility, in the case there was an advantage to be had. After all, this lord had put on the concert, so it was possible he was better connected than one could assume. After the servants had rowed Gisela and Mohatu to shore in the ship’s dinghy, Gisela had to make her way through the unseemly campsites of the peasantry who had attended the previous night’s concert, being careful not to dirty her skirt. Inquiring where the local lord might be, she had been directed to some temporary housing on the large elevated rock outcropping that overlooked the ocean, river, and the fields below. Without a carriage, and without a nice, paved Varlyrian street, she was beginning to regret her decision to make the climb when she finally reached the top. Several neat wattle and daub, timber-framed, thatched-roofed houses, surrounded by roughly hewn wooden fences, sat in a disorganized fashion near a well. Filthy peasants were delivering stone from a nearby quarry to new foundation footings being set for structures of some sort. Gisela set aside her distaste for the rough living conditions and made her way to the largest of the houses that bore the green flags of Avalonia, assuming that belonged to the lord. A little peasant girl in some low-cost clothing was on the side of the house feeding chickens, and a few soldiers were in a side yard practicing at swordplay. She bade Mohatu knock on the door, which he did without complaint. He stepped back, resting a paw on his sword hilt while keeping one eye on the door and the other on the soldiers to his right. A moment later, the door swung open, and a rather pleasant lady greeted them. She wore the green colors of her Avalonian lord, but Gisela was a little taken aback that she was wearing pants rather than the more proper skirt or dress. She hid her surprise well as the lady addressed her. “Well met, m’lady,” she said in slightly accented Avalonian speech. “What brings you here this fine morning?” Gisela ignored the unrefined direct manner of the lady, replying with a polite Varlyrian greeting. “I bid you a good morning. I am Lady Gisela Conzaga of Varlyrio, and I seek the lord of this house. Is he home?” The lady seemed amused at this notion. “Indeed m’lady, there is no lord of this house, but a lady, and she is here.” She gestured with an open hand to the two soldiers at practice. Gisela directed her attention to the soldiers practicing melee in the soft earth that doubled as a pig pen and quickly understood, surprised yet again. With their helms and armor on, she had a hard time deducing which one was the lady of the house, as both wielded their arms with terrific skill and force. The woman in the doorway led Gisela and Mohatu across the yard to the edge of the pig pen’s fence. “M’lady Gwenllian!” she called out, and the fighting stopped. “Lady Gisela Conzaga of Varlyrio is here to see you!” Both combatants walked over to toward Gisela. The taller of the two wore full plate armor with a visored helm and wielded a hand-and-a-half bastard sword in a single hand like it was a matchstick. The other more slight individual wore a closed helm with scale mail under a green Avalonian tabard and carried a mace. Gisela assumed the latter was the lady of the house due to her stature, but it was the other who sheathed the massive sword and strode forward to the fence, shooing a pig out of the way with a gentle shove of the foot. With practiced hands, the helm was quickly unlaced and Gisela was confused when a cascade of long, dark red hair flowed out of the helm as it was removed, to reveal a sweaty, smiling face of a woman in her mid 30s. Tucking her helmet under her left arm, she removed her gauntlet and glove, pushed some wet red hair out of her eyes, and extended her hand to Gisela in a warrior’s greeting. “Well met, Lady Gisela,” she said with the same slight accent as the other woman. “I am Lady Gwenllian. I see you have already met my Lady-at-arms, Lady Seren.” The usually unflappable Gisela actually hesitated a moment from shock, and started to curtsey before realizing that she had best return the greeting offered her. She took Lady Gwenllian’s hand to shake as she had seen her father’s warriors do many times before. She immediately noticed the feel of Lady Gwenllian’s hands: they were callused and incredibly strong, like the hands of a smith or a soldier, having obviously known hard work, and were not the smooth hands of nobility she was so used to. She sensed Mohatu stiffen ever so slightly to her side, not entirely sure of this strange and potentially dangerous woman. If Lady Gwenllian was at all distressed by an armed lionel standing before her, she didn’t show it. Gisela had always been tall for a woman, taller even than some of the male soldiers of her family’s home, but Lady Gwenllian matched her every inch and then some, standing several inches over six feet, with broad, squared shoulders and a muscular frame. She looked imposing in full plate armor, but her rather plain face and inviting smile put Gisela at ease and she quickly regained her senses. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Gwenllian,” Gisela began formally. The handshake ended and Lady Gwenllian smiled as she continued. “I am of the house Conzaga from across the sea in Varlyrio. I attended the concert last night and wished to meet the lord of these lands before I departed.” Pausing a second, she added, “The concert was quite lovely, and I greatly appreciated all of your effort in sponsoring such a lavish event.” Lady Gwenllian held her hand up. “I am glad to meet you, but I cannot take credit for the hard work of my household and the villagers that put up the stage and trappings you see below.” Just when she didn’t think that she could be more surprised, Gisela was. Here this noblewoman was giving credit to peasants? For labor they were supposed to be doing anyway? What? “How generous of you,” she offered. “I’m sure that you had many hours of planning involved." Lady Gwenllian smiled again. “Your compliments are what is generous,” she said with a laugh. “How about some tea? May I offer you a drink and a place to sit while we talk a bit?” She gestured to her house. “Thank you, I would be honored,” Gisela replied. She followed Lady Seren as Lady Gwenllian clanked into the house in her armor. Inside, the home was neat and tidy, or at least as much as a dwelling with a packed dirt floor and an open thatched roof could be. She found herself somewhat put off by this sparse, rural dwelling. The two-story house had a fire pit on the bottom level that fed heat into the upper level by means of a hole in the floor above that formed a sort of balcony. Lady Gwenllian led Gisela upstairs, which had a wooden floor, and offered her a chair while she doffed her armor on a stand near her bed. Gisela wrinkled her nose as she carefully wiped the chair off with a handkerchief before sitting. Mohatu took a post not far behind her, standing. “What’s your family business?” asked Lady Gwenllian rather bluntly, as she looked at Gisela over her shoulder while continuing to remove portions of her armor. “We are vintners, growing some of the highest quality grapes and fermenting some of the best wine in Varlyrio,” Gisela replied. “Very nice,” replied Lady Gwenllian. “I am originally from Albers, and my family were brewers.” Suddenly, everything was clear to Gisela. She remembered hearing of the land of Albers, far to the north of Varlyrio and west of Avalonia, across the sea. She recalled that Albers was a matriarchy, with families ruled and inherited by the first-born woman. She had always been fascinated with tales of this land as a small girl, wondering what it would be like to have the kind of power and respect her father and brothers did. She never thought anything past it being just a fantasy, however, and had forgotten about it as she grew up. The revelation that here, in front of her, was a real-life example of her childhood imagination was exciting: an intelligent, confidant, and capable lady who was completely oblivious to the male-dominated culture that she was now a part of. Gisela’s disgust with the backward, dirty village and home was temporarily lost as her interest was now piqued: this was no widow of some male lord, holding down the household until another man came along to marry her, as Gisela had assumed. No, this was the noble in charge around here, and it opened many new possibilities in Gisela’s mind. “We have not yet had a harvest,” Lady Gwenllian continued as she sat down across from Gisela, wearing her sweat-soaked dark green tunic and heavy breeches. Lady Gwenllian leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs as Gisela had seen her father do so many times before, but rather than seeing his fancy shoes, she saw a muddy leather riding boot crossed on Lady Gwenllian’s other knee. “But we hope that our first will offer enough wheat, hops, and oats to brew some ales and lagers this winter. One of our first priorities is our brewery, after we finish the forge for our blacksmith, of course." The same small peasant girl Gisela had seen feeding the chickens earlier arrived with some tea as Lady Seren joined Gisela and Lady Gwenllian. Gisela then understood that Lady Seren was not a servant, but a minor noble of sorts herself, as the Lady at Arms and seneschal of Lady Gwenllian’s household. The serving girl then interacted with Lady Seren in a way that made Gisela realize that she was not a serving girl at all, but the daughter of Lady Seren herself. This household was full of surprises! The conversation devolved into some discussion of the Conzaga family fermentation process, something with which Gisela was familiar but by no means an expert, so she confidently fabricated the details she didn’t know. When Lady Gwenllian began explaining the brewing process (which Gisela really couldn’t care less about), Gisela was more interested in the plain and direct manner with which Lady Gwenllian spoke. It was clear to Gisela that there was a great opportunity here: Lady Gwenllian would be underestimated by almost all the men who met her. Combine an underestimation of Lady Gwenllian’s ability with an adversary’s overconfidence and it would spell disaster for anyone who opposed her, and by extension, be a boon for those allied with her. For her part, Lady Gwenllian was similarly impressed with Gisela. She had been happy that a young lady had the temerity to approach her without a man (even if she was wearing a dress), something that had not yet happened since she had arrived in Avalonia. Listening to Gisela describe her family’s business, Lady Gwenllian realized that Gisela was extremely socially adept and that she was likely very good at something Lady Gwenllian was terrible at: politics. Lady Gwenllian’s direct nature, while beloved by the peasants of her land, had not been particularly well-suited for the court in Albers, relegating Lady Gwenllian’s family role to more physical activities like swordplay and jousting while her mother and sisters played political games. With the rest of her family having been murdered in Albers, Lady Gwenllian was now on her own and her household had a need for a shrewd politician. She thought that Gisela might be a great liaison for the neighboring tribes, communities, and fiefdoms, so she tried to steer the conversation in a direction to interest Gisela into staying. Little did she know that Gisela was already thinking along the same lines. “It’s not much now, but we have some designs on turning Prenmôr into a thriving community and a strong outpost. Lady Seren has already drawn up plans for the castle itself, along with some sketches for the surrounding lands.” She turned to Lady Seren. “Lady Seren, if you could please bring the parchments, I would like to show Lady Gisela the construction that is underway.” Their tea finished, Lady Seren rose to collect the plans, and Lady Gwenllian tossed a chain shirt over her tabard, fastening it with a belt. She led Gisela and Mohatu downstairs and outside. Lady Gwenllian motioned to the man she had been training with, who was sweeping up. “Chwyd, go fetch my sword,” she directed him. The man diligently scurried off without complaint. Gisela smiled to herself at the thought of male servants carrying out her every whim. “I prefer to be prepared for any eventuality,” Lady Gwenllian explained as Chwyd and Lady Seren returned. “You never know when you will be called on to fight.” After fastening on her sword and scabbard (much to Mohatu’s chagrin), Lady Gwenllian led Gisela around the grounds, showing her the foundations of the buildings in progress. Lady Seren walked alongside Lady Gwenllian as an equal, holding the unfurled scroll of parchment with the plans for the castle as Lady Gwenllian pointed out the areas where different parts of the fortress were to be laid and discussing the military strategy for each. Gisela did not have a formal education in engineering or military tactics, but it seemed to her that these two women knew what they were doing and had spent a great deal of time planning the strongest possible fortress. Lady Gwenllian stopped by the foundation of the blacksmith’s forge that was underway. “As you can see, we have some way to go, but by setting a priority, we will build the most important logistical and defensive structures first.” She looked around the high plateau, then back to Gisela. “I am in need of a strategist and liaison with the neighboring communities. We are surrounded by humans, elves, dwarves, hobbits, and other races, all of whom we need to trade and collaborate with in order to flourish and remain safe here. As we are a new community, we cannot yet bring great leverage to the dealing table, so we need someone practiced in negotiation to help provide as favorable a position as possible for Prenmôr. You strike me as such an individual. Would you be interested in taking up the position of Prenmôr’s official ambassador? At present, I cannot provide vast wealth, but I can assure you a living wage, room in my personal residence and such comforts as the area allows, plus travel to the neighboring communities and whatever entertainments and victuals accompany these, until such a time as our permanent residences are constructed.” Gisela paused a moment to take everything in. “May I have a moment?” Lady Gwenllian nodded, and Gisela took Mohatu aside. Gisela assumed that he would be displeased with the lack of fortifications of the area and would try to bring her to a safer area per her father’s instructions, so she was determined to force her will on him. “We shall be staying here. I know you’re going to argue that it doesn’t have high walls and all the troops of Varlyrio, but my father’s instructions were explicit that I find a lord willing to take me in until this family trouble blows over. I expect that you will send word to my father that this area and this lady are acceptable,” she finished with a pointed look. Mohatu held up a paw and shook his head. “My lady, I shall take no convincing and will wholeheartedly report that this area is secure. What it does not have in high walls and fortresses, it more than makes up for in its obscurity. With a population this small, outsiders will be noticed immediately, making it difficult for assassins to blend in, and this geographic site,” he motioned with his paw around the plateau, “provides a vantage over land, sea, and river, making it impossible for an advancing army to take the area by surprise. These ladies have done well in selecting the most defensible position, and while the lady herself,” he said, inclining his head toward Lady Gwenllian, “regrettably does not have a bodyguard, she looks… formidable,” he finished with a low growl and an almost begrudging respect. Gisela was pleasantly surprised, although she never let it show to her bodyguard, and smirked after turning away from Mohatu. She returned to Lady Gwenllian. “I accept your offer and the position as Ambassador of Prenmôr. I have a few household servants and my bodyguard Mohatu, who will require residence here.” “Of course,” Lady Gwenllian replied. “I will have space made for the servants with the rest of my household. Mohatu,” she turned to him, “you shall have a place downstairs in our residence with Lady Seren and her daughter Alis, while Gisela and I shall share the upstairs.” That settled, the servants began transferring Ambassador Gisela’s possessions from the ship to Lady Gwenllian’s home, and Lady Gwenllian’s household began making room for the entourage to share space with them until their permanent residences could be built. Gisela looked around the plateau, taking in the salt smell of the ocean, watching the gulls soar on the sea breeze and the peasants busily toiling away on the land below. Yes, this was going to be the beginning of a very profitable relationship.

Prelude: The Spring of Hope Life in Avalonia had seldom been better. Even the old-timers, grey of pate and dim of eye, could not recall a time of greater flourishing. The scars of the wars were healing and fading, the fields were producing better than ever, and gold was flowing freely from Cedrica to Albion and down the rivers to the isles. The trade routes to Varlyrio had enriched almost every coastal lord, and by extension, the coastal cities. Inland, the towns were seeing a greater demand for their goods and better returns on their investments. Merchants were selling new and exotic wares from the far west, and even from the south new goods were arriving as the cities of Kaliphlin began to recover some semblance of order. Deep in the forests, the bandits who made a living off of the rich were themselves becoming rich, and had no lack of food. Their fortresses and lairs were better than ever, rebuilt after the devastation of the Drow, repopulated after the plague. And if life was good for the bandits in the forest, it was even better in the cities and towns. Everywhere there were festivals and banquets, often given in honor of Queen Ylspeth, the most blessed woman in all the lands. The number of girls named Ylspeth, Elspeth, Elisabeth, or some other variant had exploded, as had the population in general. Everywhere there were new mouths to feed, but at the same time there was enough food to feed them all, and then much left over to sell to the Mitgardians and Varlyrians at a hefty profit. The generosity of the queen was toasted at each table, and the new king, the old de Gothia, was much beloved and much praised. "Long live the Queen! Long live the King! Long may the Dragon fly!" was heard echoing through the lanes and byways. But in the halls of lords, their were rumors of troubles ahead; not from within the guild, but from without. Mitgardia was restless, it was said. Varlyrio was quiet on the surface, but there were rumblings of new alliances that did not bode well for the stability of the island. Merchants brought word that Kaliphlin was still trying to figure out what was happening with the Desert King's rule. And Nocturnus was far too much of a mess for anyone to even begin to discuss. The added gold was being spent building defenses and training new armies, getting ready for any eventuality. What would the armies be needed for? No one quite knew, but the leaders of the guild knew that they would side with Queen Ylspeth if any threat to her young reign should arise. More pictures of the forestmen hideout can be found on Brickbuilt. More pictures of the picnic here.

Centaur w/ Tailgunner (1) by socalbricks, on Flickr Centaur w/ Tailgunner (2) by socalbricks, on Flickr Some time after the city of O'Rai was destroyed, it civilians, now nomadic, encountered a clan of centaurs. Both groups had come into conflict with the various gangs of robbers and mercenaries that patrolled the plains and woodland of southwest Avalonia. A heavily armed, coordinated and agile cavalry was needed. The two groups chose to band together, and came up with the idea of combining a centaur and rider, with both of them often training together at a young age. This strategy would prove quite effective, with horde after horde of robbers falling to hoof, blade, and arrow. Riders now had a "cavalry" they could coordinate attacks with, and centaurs had their flanks (their one weak point) protected. --------------------------- A few months ago, back when I was researching weapons I wanted my centaur character (Ayra) to carry, I stumbled upon video by a YouTuber named Shadiversity, who mentioned that one of a centaur's best weapons would be a friendly human/elf/drawrf/etc. riding on its back. This gave me some ideas, and I got to building. For simplicity's sake, I chose to use Ayra as a template. On top of the addition of a "tailgunner", I also added clothing/barding to the character's lower/"horse half". This mitigated the open studs that existed on the original version, and in my opinion makes things look much cleaner overall. Centaur (w/out Tailgunner) by socalbricks, on Flickr --------------------------- Shadiversity Video Link: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lNRf9VVAHIk" rel="noreferrer nofollow">www.youtube.com/watch?v=lNRf9VVAHIk</a> Link to the original version:

A farmer hollers out as he searches desperately for his escaped pig. The pig, meanwhile, watches with amusement from behind a tree. This was my entry to the vignette category of the Summer Joust! I haven't seen many trees made with the new leaf pieces, and after finding them at my local Pick-A-Brick, I was inspired to design one.

This is the Village of Wyvernstone outside the city of Zamorah. For a long long time this was the only settlement people of Avalonia knew about at this located. But after the dome of concealment was lifted the little village now is just a little part af the great shire of Zamorah. This part is the centre of the village, with the well as a natural place to meet other villagers. It´s also full of merchants, craftsmen and stores that provide services to the villagers and also to travelers from all of Historica The Wyvernstone Village The Village of Wyvernstone is located at the foot of the big mountain of Zamorah: Wyvernstone is located just outside of Zamorah Buildings in this part of the village In this part of the village there is a stable, a houses with different shops and businesses and also some households. People in Wyvernstone By the well there is a natural place for gatherings. And travelers from all around comes to tell stories and news from all of Historica. ...or to meet new acquaintances... .. .or to shop. People from all around historica comes to the village to trade, fill up their inventories. Merchants, Craftsmen and shops In this part of the village there is merchants, craftsmen and stores that provide services to the villagers and also to travelers from all of Historica. This is a few of the villages services: Stables: Farrier: Blacksmith: Bakery: Astronomer: Cooper: Cheesemaker: Armourer:

A mercenary's story: Part VI (epilogue) If you missed, here is the previous parts: A mercenary's story: Part I A mercenary's story: Part II A mercenary's story: Part III A mercenary's story: Part IV A mercenary's story: Part V Home sweet home! Conrad returned to his homeland after so many years. While he was away, the local lord gave a name to this region of Avalonia. They call it now Deep Garden, after the place is a bit under the sea level, and full with orchards. Conrad arrived at Rosebury, the biggest town in the region, where he and his father went on markets day. He left his followers here, and he went, to find his parents home. He found it, or at least the ruins of it. He didn't find anyone there, just a sole tombstone. So he went to the nearby farm, maybe, someone could explain what happened here. The neighbor was new too, he bought the farm from the previous owner, Conrad was glad, cause he used to steal apples from that neighbor. But, he wasn't so informative, he told Conrad what he knew about his family. The last three or four winter was really harsh. And the crops wasn't much, in those years. The lord, who named the region, eventually run out of money, after the exports, to keep his subjects fed, and to try grown new crops. One day he disappeared without any trace, some says, he traveled to Kaliphlin, to start over his fortune again. And he left everything behind. The soldiers without their payment left the region, or in the worst case, they went rogue and started pillaging the remaining supplies what we had. And Conrad's family was one of the victims. He heard about two male corpses. When Conrad asked about his mother and sisters and the tombstone, the neighbor knew little about them. The tombstone was raised for a women, maybe for his mother. And her sisters were married to someones Conrad was shocked, he blamed himself for he wasn't here, when the bandits attacked his home. But he quickly realized, he couldn't do anything to save his family, and it's sure, he would be dead too. He returned to Rosebury, to his men. They didn't go for the promised adventure, what Conrad told them. They spend the night here, Conrad wasn't able to sleep, many thoughts harassed him during the night. He felt bad, for what happened here, while he was away, but maybe this was his fate. Maybe every action what he made, lead him to this. Maybe it was the time, to show the world, what did he learn. The next day they armed themselves and rushed into the town hall. The mayor of the town become pale as snow when he saw the armed warriors walking inside in the room, demanding his presence. But Conrad quickly told him, what is this all about, and offered him his help. In the afternoon, all of Deep Garden knew about the new martial law, which was lead by Conrad. He promised, to take the position, as Protector of Deep Garden. He also promised, he would solve the bandit problem, and find a way, so Deep Garden can prosper again! ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- And this is the end of Conrad's backstory. I really enjoyed the writing, the building, to show you guys, how did I imagine my sigfigs story, and how did he become part of Historica. It took longer than I expected, challenges, CCC, real-life things, but it is finally done! For my next builds and stories, now you know Conrad the Sly, but not yet know the stories of his closes friends: Zan, Lok, and Boris. They all have their little backstories, how they joined to Conrad's army. There will be more twists, more action, more dark humor, and of course, more Builds!

Many of you guys already told the backstories of your SigFigs. Now is the time, to I join too. Hear the story of Conrad, the Sly Many of the ladys and lords of Historica came from great families. Legendary ancestors, heroes, merchants, explorers. But there are, who didn'tcame from a wealthy family, like Conrad. Conrad was a middle child of an Avalonian farmer. His early years, he lived, as the other kids, in the countryside, Helped his family, around the house and farm all day, and sometimes he played with the other kids, like cow tipping, ferret legging. But one night he overheard his parents talk, and he learned that night. The truth. And what fate, his parents planned for him. As the second son, he can't inherit anything from them, cause his older brother will inherit it. They wanted him, to become a priest. "- A priest? -he asked him self...- I show them... I will become the greatest warriorin the world! Not a muttering monk..." The next night, when everyone sleept, he got away. Grabed his slingshot, and jumped over the fence. The night, the wilderness, the thrill called him. "- I will show them" -repeted him, as he gone in the darkness... Follow his story, to learn how this farmboy become a fearless mercenary...

Of Dragons and Druids Chapter 3: The Kitchen of Druidham Gahlen knew that he should be going back to the cellars to help Stenkarlek delve them, but he did not want to go back just yet. The dwarf did not particularly like him, considering the boy more of a nuisance than a help, even with a dragon to help moving the rock. And that was all they did, Gahlen and Koeden. Bring one load of loose rock up to the surface after another, until Stenkarlek decided that they had done enough for the day. Gahlen grumbled at his father silently, since it was he who had volunteered the boy's services to the dwarves. But that had been months ago, and the dwarves were still digging. They were nice storerooms and cellars, expertly hewn, painstakingly precise in their corners and utterly smooth in their floors. But the job was tedious, and the seven-year-old wanted to go run around outside and bother some of the other children of the island. And so Gahlen was stopping by the kitchens, hoping to draw Jalme away from his chores. Jalme was the son of the steward, Dervin, who ran the day-to-day affairs of Druidham, assisting Gahlen's father Henjin. The two boys were almost the same age, though Jalme was eight and a bit taller. As he approached the kitchen doors, Gahlen's mouth began to water; succulent smells were wafting on the air currents of the hallway to his nose, reminding him that it was nearly time to eat. Koeden nudged him the back, indicating that he too would like a snack. Hadn't he fed the dragon today already? Young dragons were always hungry, though, and were always growing, too. Perhaps he could sneak a snack from Gregi, the butcher, for Koeden and something from Grishna, the orcwife, for himself. Gregi was busy chopping the heads off of chickens when he opened the door. A faint smile flickered in the corner of the bald man's mouth when his eyes saw the boy and beast framed in the dim doorway. At least Gahlen thought it was a smile; the butcher's beard was so thick that it was hard to tell. Another head popped into the bucket at Gregi's feet, and he slowly slid the whole bucket of heads towards the door. Marni, scaling fish at the same table, clucked in disapproval, but said nothing. The old matron had a soft spot for the roguish youth and his dragon, and the boy exploited it whenever he could. If only he could sneak in and see Sorna; she always had a pie or cookie ready for him, but he would have to avoid the eyes of Jalme's aunt, Julippa, who ran the kitchen and had no use for rascals in her way. Unfortunately, Sorna was talking to Kupika about berry pies as the elf brought over a sack of gooseberries for a pie. Several pies were already cooling on the table; probably currant pies, judging by Sorna's pile of currant sacks by the table. Unfortunately, Julippa was sharing a table with Grishna as the two prepared a stew and some salads. That meant no snack from the orcwife today. Grishna was the best, always doting over the young dragonrider whenever she saw him, giving him big hugs and lots of treats. Her husband Urglan, was a dragonrider, too, the only orc to become one so far. Jalme was looking decidedly unhappy as he turned a spit with a large islebird over the fire. He was definitely hot, and always grouchy. But there was no way that he would be able to get away from the work without getting into serious trouble with everyone in the kitchen. Bummer! Gahlen lingered in the doorway for a moment longer, before deciding to go outside and try to find one of his sisters to bother. Or maybe his mother, if Galaria might be around somewhere and not busy. But he was done with carrying rocks today. He grabbed the bucket of chicken heads and a bit of cured sausage that Gregi had tossed to him, too, and went back the way he came, out into the lower courtyard of Druidham, into the bright sunshine in the midst of the Mystic Isles. (with updated lighting) ____________________________________ ........................................................................ More pics: C&C welcome. I'm not as happy with the lighting in this one as I would have hoped. There are too many different pieces to it: a lamp under the roasting pit, a flashlight behind the bread oven, light bricks and another flashlight lighting glow crystals in the wall, and another lamp shining through a bank of windows (out of shot) to imitate daylight coming in. It was ambitious, and perhaps I'll give it another go before tearing it apart; the results here are "good enough" but not great.

Along the road to the mountain city of Zamorah, Mr and Mrs Miller have their cottage. The grounds have been in the family for generations. The head of the family, Zancibar Miller, is a miller, just as all the other men in his family have been as far back as anyone can remember. When Zancibar was young and adventurous (and as convinced as any young man that he would never follow in his fathers footsteps...), he traveled around Avalonia in search of the meaning of life. In his travels he met his wife, an elven Herbalist named Ëlandriel. Zancibar Miller Ëlandriel Miller When they wed and got their first daughter, Zancibar felt a strong urge to move back and take over the mill after his father. The young family did just that, and as time passed, the family grew. They are now a big family, with three kids that all help with the chores. Ëlandriel has a big garden where she grows all kinds of exotic and rare plants and herbs for her potion making. Their oldest son, Bertil, helps in the garden and in the mill. Their youngest son Emil is a little rascal that spends most of his days doing all kinds of mischievous things... Ëlandriel's garden with herbs and plants Ëlandriel Miller selling potions to travelers Bertil Miller helping collect herbs Emil Miller fishing in the river Their oldest daughter Catzy has her own carrier-pigeon breeding and messaging service. Catzy Miller and her carrier-pigeon business The cottage is located right beside one of the big roads leading to Zamorah, and the many travelers that pass their home provide the family’s businesses with regular income. Ëlandriel Miller waiting by the road to greet travelers Zancibar Miller hauling a bag of seeds to the upper floor Waterfall that powers the water wheel The main road also serves as one of the patrolling routes for the soldiers from Zamorah, which is good for keeping the business safe from robbers and outlaws. Troops from Zamorah patrolling the road Troops from Zamorah patrolling the road

7b. Palisade As the summer began and more people began to settle in Prenmôr, the peasantry became a little more anxious about their safety. Rumors abounded of lizard people taking human form, drow looking to invade again, the Mitgardian civil war reigniting, and to top it all off, there were rumors of the nearby Enchanted Forest harboring an evil elven sorceress who had been twisted by magic into a grotesque beast. A town wall was planned for around the community, but it would be a few years before all the stone could be quarried, cut, and finally built into a permanent stone structure. In the meantime, a temporary palisade was built, made of logs sunk into the earth with the skyward ends sharpened into points, held together with boards and tied near the top with rope. Unlike a wooden fortress, this temporary wall lacked wall walks and other features of a permanent structure. Simply meant as a deterrent to any potential attacks while the stone walls were being built, the palisade had a rudimentary wooden gate and was shored up with supports from the rear. While the foundation of the castle rested mostly on solid bedrock and overlooked steep embankments, the town wall was different. It was to be built surrounding the adjacent farmland with a foundation on the flat earth there. Thus, the laborers dug a ditch in front of the wall foundation where the palisade now rested, carrying out dirt and rock to be piled behind the palisade. This ditch would remain once the stone walls were in place, forming a dry moat around the town to add to the layered defenses.

Challenge II - Avalonian Civil War The Road to Civil War - Prologue Southern Avalonia - just northwest of the Kaliphlin border A drunken Avalonian sailor is hard at work downing his bottle of grog. From the stench of alcohol surrounding him, it is obvious that this is not his first bottle today. Sailor: What wash shat!? Sailor: That maybea ship, but that maaay be jussht the grogg talking again - It wash lasht time.... Sally, whu, whuddu think? Sailor: You shink sho? Aright, I'll take a nutter look The sailor gazes off across the sea for a long minute - almost as if in a stupor. Sailor: Shally, you were right again! Twash tha grog making me she shings again. Shanks for shetting my sail straight, mate! Sailor: Me bottleshrun out. Shally - hold down the fort fer me.....'burp' Out across the sea, the mirage appears yet again, but this time it can't be the grog, and there's noone left to witness it. What is the mysterious ship? Where did it come from? Is it friend or foe? Only time will tell. End Prologue.

Hi all! I'm back after a few weeks off ..Well kinda..My wife and I have a freshy new born young little girl, so life has been busy these past few weeks! This build is also for the Summer Joust 2019 It's based on abandoned parts of the farms and city of Oxenfurt when it got terrorised by a decease. Old ruins of Oxenfurt main by jesse van den Oetelaar, on Flickr Old ruins of oxenfurt Right by jesse van den Oetelaar, on Flickr Detail 2 by jesse van den Oetelaar, on Flickr hope you folks like it!

7a. Rumors Lady Gwenllian was surveying the progress on the town’s palisade when she heard a commotion from one of the nearby farms. Quickly heading over to see what was the matter, she found a farmer obviously terrified. “What’s going on?” she asked the farmer. “M’lady!” the farmer said, and quickly bowed. “It’s the chickens! Please, come see!” Lady Gwenllian followed the farmer over to a small grassy area where his chickens and a few pigs were milling about. A man with a black beard, dressed all in green, carrying strange odds and ends strapped to his belt, stood watching the chickens. The man, however, was not the strangest part of the scene: in fact, the man was watching one enormous chicken amongst the others. His head turned to watch Lady Gwenllian and the farmer approach. “M’lady, this huge chicken came over to my flock today! I’ve never seen anything like it! It has to be some sort of demon chicken!” Lady Gwenllian looked over the chicken, which stood some five feet tall. Besides being a monstrosity, it appeared to behave like a normal chicken, pecking at the ground for bugs and plants like the others. The man with the green hat spoke. “This is no demon, my good man,” he began. “M’lady,” he said, tipping his hat to Lady Gwenllian. “It is in fact what magic users refer to as a dire animal, one that is enlarged unnaturally by a magical malady of some sort.” Lady Gwenllian looked at him. “And are you the wizard responsible for this bizarre creature?” she asked bluntly. He shook his head. “No, m’lady, I am not. I am here, in fact, because I am trying to track down the source of this beast. It is not the only dire animal I have encountered in this region, and I would like to know the source. There is word of an evil sorceress in the Enchanted Forest who, once a pure and good elf, has been twisted by powerful magic into a ruthless, power hungry monster. If this is true, these realms could be in peril.” Lady Gwenllian considered him, then the chicken. “What is your name, good wizard?” she asked him. “I am Razin, the traveling wizard, at your service, m’lady.” “It so happens that my household is in need of a wizard, Razin. How would you like to become Razin, the grand mage of Prenmôr? I have a very keen interest in solving this mystery and finding out if there is any truth to this rumor of an evil sorceress in the forest.” Razin bowed. “I would be honored, m’lady.” “Good, then it’s settled. I will have your belongings brought up to the temporary housing for my personal household.” She gestured to the wattle and daub houses on the high rock outcropping above. “Now what about this chicken?” she asked. Razin shrugged. “Other than being extremely large, it is just a chicken.” Lady Gwenllian looked at the farmer. “Get a spear. We are having chicken for dinner tonight.”

After the death of Zamorah’s ruler, Zull af Drachen, The Aurum Order took over the power in Zamorah. They decided that Historica should be aware of the hidden city. So the mages lifted the dome of concealment and the city was there for everyone to see. The war was over and The Aurum Order saw a chance to find new ways of trade with Historica. But after some time there were rumours coming from other parts of Avalonia, Mitgardia and Kaliphlin about dark creatures and a rising threat. The citizens of Zamorah was talking about these new rumours and the word spread like wildfire in the city. The Aurum Order felt the concern from the citizens and gave the order to reinforce the walls of Zamorah, starting with the eastern walls. The walls of the mountain city Zamorah Zamorah is on top of a mountain and the only way to access it is by air or via lifts from the docks in the caves under the mountain. The walls around the mountain city is already high and only a small strip of land is outside the walls. To strengthen the wall armoured plates of Aurumium, the strong and gold coloured metall of Zamorah, is being mounted on the outside of the wall. The plates is made in pyramide shapes to avert incoming projectiles and to distribute the force of the impact. To reinforce the defence of the wall big ballistas is built to fight of enemy dragons and other big flying threats. And to fight of any enemies that may land outside the walls the walls is fitted with outlets for spraying Dragonbreath, a highly flammable liquid, on the enemies. The ballistas fights of dragons Outlets that spray "Dragonbreath" on enemies on the ground To get the work done properly two members of The Aurum Order, a elven mage and a druid, were sent out to monitor the work. The wall had to withstand fire from dragons and trebuchet projectiles and also bombardment of magic spells. An elven mage (elves is Flesh in my MOCs) and a human Druid helps the builders To insure that the workers were safe during the work outside the wall archers from the elite force called Guardians of Zamorah. Elite archers protect the workers ...and also Elite swordsmen Do you want to learn more of Zamorah, Check this out: City of Zamorah, The hidden city in Avalonia Extra pictures: ] Here you can see more pictures of the MOC: [Flickr] Building the Scene It’s nice to be back building on GoH again. I have been away from Lego since October. And now when I got my first Lego Room I felt a urge to build again. But first I concentrated on other projects. So now I’m planing to build more GoH. When the challenge came I got a vision of the build at ones. The thing is that I had a thought of building a smaller scene like this to show reinforcement of the walls when I wrote the first post of Zamorah, But i didn’t have the time for it then. The walls is only walls to protect the city behind, therefore there is not so many openings, windows or other apertures. The city inside of the walls is not in this scene. The Ballistas was made with JK Brickworks Ballista as an inspiration. It was at first made to work with the tension in the pearl gold pieces, not as good as the string version that JK did. But I was getting tired of it, and it was only built for the pics anyway, so i didn’t do the wind up construction. The walls is made mostly of 1x2 plates and 1x2 jumper plates. A technique that @ZlatanXVIGustaf showed me. The MOC is L-shaped and got some overhang on the plateau compared with the actual footprint at the bottom. It’s also rounded on the plateau edges. So to be absolutely sure of the size of the MOC I counted the studs. The total area of the MOCs upper plate is 3243 studs. Not counting a bit overhang with the leaves on the tree. So it’s within the range of 4096 studs (64x64) even if you also count the leaves overhang. …. Next time I’ll build a square one I hope you like it, be free to comment but be kind ;)

After a hard day, it's good to take a rest in the local tavern, with your friends. Deerhill was a known hunting place, now only the name reminds the locals what was this place. The fields around the small hill are now full of orchids and gardens. The animals already moved away, deeper in the forest, only small rodents give troubles to the local farmers. Three friends having a good time and cold beer together at the Tipsy-Owl tavern. Talking about their trade, the weather and about the women. The Sun almost got behind the horizons, when another band of refugees arrived from Noctornus... Ravaage was stopped long ago, but the country was still in peril, and not everyone was prepared for that. This is why the Avalonian High Council, allows them to take refuge here, while the things turn good. And the new king, De Gothia, won't reject them. Only the locals arguing... - Another band of those... - said Icke, the blacksmith, while he raised his eyebrow. - I can't believe they allowed them to came here. - Relax mate! - David the farmer tried to calm his friend down. - They have their problems, don't give them more. They are escaping from war, it's isn't their fault. - We can't trust them! Nothing good came from Noctornus! - answered Icke, but lowering his voice, when the next traveler passed away near him. - I like the Nocturnian pumpkin pie! - the third man shared his opinion. His name is Tom, and he works as a tailor. - Like I said. - Icke turned to Tom with a cold gaze. - Nothing good came from Noctornus. Who eats pumpkin pie? The Nocturnians are barbarians! - Why you hate these folk? Did any of them harm you? - David tried to calm his friends once more. - Didn't you hear about them? - the two others shook their heads. Icke took a long sip from his drink, and continued his story: - I heard a rumor, about a race of lizardmen, they are shapeshifters! They can take anyone look, and can infiltrate to anywhere. They were spying for Ravaage, they are evil I say! They are kidnaping folks from all over Historica. Drag them to their underground caves, and took their look, and blend in, and continue their life like they are the same person. No one knows, what they want, but they are spying for a new overlord, or just preparing for an invasion. I'm sure some of our rulers are already replaced by them! The two others were listening to their friends' conspiracy theory. - I don't believe in this nonsense, I'm sure they are friendly and don't want any trouble. Right, Tom? - and with that, he patted Tom's shoulder so hard, he dropped his drink. - Oh sorry mate, I spilled your drink. Here let me get you a new one! - offered David. - Ah, don't bother about that. It's already late for me. My... wife and... kids... are waiting for me. - rejecting Davids offers Tom, and with that, he waved goodbye to his friends and went home. Just a minute passed. David and Icke suddenly looked at each other: - When did Tom get married?

For the people of Deep Garden, the constant fear from danger isn't unknown. Between their runaway landlord and Conrad's arrival, the region was infested with bandits and renegades. They already knew, how to defend their homes, farms, and gardens. But thanks to their new protector, they could rest easier now. But this is no longer an option. Conrad is planning something, and he split his army into smaller groups. Some soldiers still patrol the roads, but there are rumors about new threats. And the locals no longer feel the safety. The town leaders are tired to talk to Conrad about how they feel right now, but the mercenary leader always looks too busy. The towns decided it is time to take up again their tools and defend their self once again. They tired their best, but the region only has forests and orchards. There aren't any quarry, and most of the residents don't know the stonecutting trade. The only way to make new fortifications are to sacrifice many of their local trees. It was a hard decision for them, but everyone came in the same conclusion: dead man can't harvest the corps. Axes, shovels, and pickaxes are gathered from the towns, and the works started. Digging trenches, cutting down trees, raising planks, road blockades are made. This is the only way a poor man can defend themselves. The trenches are filled with traps and sharp wooden spikes. Even simple watchtowers are raised, to overseer the surronding area. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was hard, to find anything to fortify in a region there aren't any bigger town. I pictured this region, like in the Witcher 3 Velen, small farms not too far away from each other. The farms are a collection of 2-3 families, who tends the land. There are some bigger villages, they serve like junctions. They fortified them mostly, so the local farms can take shelter there... whatever danger they have to face it. They are simple people, so they had to use simple methods, to protect them self.

It had been a good day the market. Many new exotic fruits and clothing were for sale and other new goods from the faraway Varlyrio . Angus and Lilly were going home from the market, happy now when Avalonia was in peace and flourishing as never before. It was good times. The streets of Zamorah were almost empty when everyone was at the market. Outside the family house they met Lilly's older brother Lars, he worked as a cartographer in Albion and were always out on missions in far away lands, making maps of unknown territories. Lilly: "Hi, Lars! How are you?" Lars was in a hurry but turned around to greet his sister and brother in-law: "Hi, Lilly and Angus." Lilly: "How are you? It's been awhile!" Lars: "It's fine, it's fine." Angus: "Well, we know you better than that Lars. You look stressed out and worried. Has anything happened?" Lars: "I'm in a hurry. I have to go to Albion before dark. I just made a quick stop to say hi to mother." Lilly: "Where have you been? What interesting things have you seen at your travels? You know I love your stories!" Lilly tried another tactic. Lars lowered his shoulders and sighed deeply: "Well, something troubling has been told to me by a traveler in the mountains in eastern Mitgardia. News that have to be forwarded to the Guild leader in Albion. If I tell you this, you have to keep it to yourself!" Lilly: "Ofcourse Lars, you know we can keep a secret" Lars: "Well, this traveler came storming in to the Tavern were I was sitting eating dinner. He looked totally freaked out and were mumbling about demons, evil creatures and the death himself walking among us. I invited him to the table and asked what was worrying him." Traveler: "They are back! The demons of Nocturnus. They are here among us already. I've seen them myself!" Lars: "Take it easy friend, here you got some mead. Now tell me what you have seen." The traveler took a deep sip of mead, then said: "I was walking in the Castaway pass north of here when I heard a loud crack to the right of me. I was afraid and hide behind a big rock. When I looked up I saw a bright light and a ring of fire appeared out of nothing in the rock wall. The ring expanded to about 14 feets wide, burning and a great heat radiated out from it and melted the show around it. Then out from the fire black figures stepped out into the snow instantly melting under there feets. First came some demon-like creatures walked out and after it came some winged beast with a even more terrifying demon riding it…. After that I can't remember anything. I think I maybe passed out or something. When I waked up they were gone. And there were not any trace of them. I know I saw it! I'm not crazy!" The traveler drank all of the mead in the cup. Then his eyes widened: "We all have to flee, they are coming! Noctornus is rising!!" The he stood up and ran out from the tavern with fear in his eyes. Lars: "Then I ate up and decided that I have to inform the Guild about this. So I took of directly and came here" Angus: "Well, that's… that's not good news!" Lars said in a not so convincing words: "I don't think you should be worried. It can be a crazy man's fantasies, but it's my duty to inform the Guild." Lilly' s eyes widened: "Can this be the reason The Aurum Order has ordered the city walls to be reinforced?" Angus: "We shall not draw any fast conclusions right now, we haven't heard anything of that." Lars: "Well, you should not go around walking about this. And take care of eachother. I really have to go. Have a good time and I hope we will soon see eachother again." Lars kissed his sister cheek and hurried away down the street.

Hi all, I had some time to make pictures of my latest MOC, It's for the HSS program, to get my town on the map hehe :) Oxenfurt watchtower and blacksmith main by jesse van den Oetelaar, on Flickr Oxenfurt watchtower by jesse van den Oetelaar, on Flickr Oxenfurt blacksmith close-up by jesse van den Oetelaar, on Flickr No story today. Just a blacksmith and a watchtower, located in Oxenfurt, Avalonia.

The Realm of Wytheria is an independent kingdom of Avalonia under the rule of King Cedric Woodgard. Cedric became the ruler after the banishment of King Rhonnen Physcere...at the time of his coronation he was only 13. The Realm of Wytheria has large port in the capital city of Direhold where it opens trade with all the other cities and Kingdoms of Avalonia. Off the Northern shore of Wytheria lies the Elven Island of Elgeria under the rule of the Eleven King, Theolen. They elves of Elgeria and the inhabitants of Wytheria are very close and work together to defend their kingdom and the lands of Wytheria. They are always ready to answer the call of the King of Avalonia if he should need their help.