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Warzone 6: Last Stand of the Salamanders Location: B7 Who Can Participate: Ulandus and Desert King (Unless A path is opened up by the HIGH COUNCIL before the end of the minichallenge) Terrain: After a series of pushes in the Arkbri valley, primarily from the Desert King, the Northern Ulandians find themselves in the crosshairs once again. This time, the 2nd Legion, the Salamanders (green colors) are holding the last remnants of the once vital Northern corridor. This battle takes place around the town of Northwall. sandendonmap by skaforhire, on Flickr Northwall is the last major Kaliphlin settlement going north before the Cedrican Grasslands and Avalonia. Its climate is no longer desert, but tall grasslands with the occasional trees. Northwall itself has high walls, in which the Salamanders and their allies have barricaded themselves behind. The forces of the Desert King are all over the region, including a small siege of the town. The buildings of Northwall and its surroundings are a mix between Kaliphlin and Avalonian. History: Once just a tiny town on the frontier, Northwall has now passed Sand’s End as the northern most Kaliphlin settlement. It is mostly a guard post to keep rogue raiding parties out of the region. Little trade goes through the town, as they do not have the populace to support the vast market days that Sand’s End has. For this reason, most people living in Northwall are related to the military somehow. Mini-challenge: Northwall’s defenses are quite hardy. Desert King forces should depict a clever way to get through( or over, or under) the wall. Ulandus forces should depict a MOC where the Salamanders and allies cleverly repel the oncoming invaders. Both teams need to depict the walls of Northwall in some manner. Both teams should depict Ulandus forces in some manner – they don’t have to be replicas of the forces used in the preludes, but should have green in their color scheme if possible. Secondary judging category: Best Wall. Winner of this title will become “Defensive Architect of Kaliphlin” Restrictions: 16x32 Due Date: April 12th WARMAP318 by skaforhire, on Flickr

This guerilla action is against zone G14 . The wall at Qaryat-Dul-Khat has stood for ages as a place of solace and worship for the people of Kaliphlin. One of Kaliphlin's many holy sites, the wall bears ancient inscriptions describing various religious beliefs and practices. When Ulandus stormed through the southern Rakarths, Qaryat-Dul-Khat and other shrines fell under the First Centurion's dominion. Pilgrimages ended almost immediately as worshippers feared how Ulandus would treat visitors to these sites. Rumors spread that the authoritarian Ulandians regarded such worship as dangerous and backwards-thinking. Whether or not these rumors were true, the Desert King saw this as a perfect opportunity to strike Ulandus and demonstrate his devotion to Kaliphlin's traditional values. He sent a small group of civil and military officers to capture Qaryat-Dul-Khat who then invited worshippers to once again pray at the holy wall. In this time of suffering and uncertainty, the shrine has seen a huge growth in visitors. Guards dispatched by the Desert King ensure offerings are not stolen. So far Ulandus has not reclaimed the site, no doubt fearful of further antagonizing the local populace. Worshippers come from all over for fellowship, to pray and to leave personal offerings. Below, a Desert King civil officer helps an elderly worshipper while another recites the shrine's ancient inscriptions: ----------------------------------- Hello! My first Guerilla Action entry, hope you don't mind the stickers! They seemed to work here and finally gave me something to do with the Moria Mine stickers I've collected. I'd have to admit the rockwork needs some finesse. I would have liked to go a bit bigger to give a better impression of a shrine embedded in the mountain - unfortunately, most of my dark bley slopes are tied up in another build and this was all I could scrape together. In any case, thanks a ton for looking. Hope you enjoy it!

The Desert King sent out some of his warriors and a wizard to find an old crypt and bringt some of his powerful companions from 2000 years ago back to Historica. High Centurion was glad when he heard the news that some of his soldiers had arrived just in time to put an end to this unholy act of the Desert King's followers! - - Builders Note: While I am really happy with the build itself, I don't like the minfigure placement much at all. Also I expected the illumation-effect of the dark wizard in the cave to come over much better than it does...

The forces from Ulandus had taken as many aqueducts as they could, knowing that whoever controlled the water supply would be in the best position to continue their attacks. A small force of the Ulandans had decided that it would be faster to press-ganged some of the local farmers into hauling water for them to increase the flow instead of fixing the water-pump. The men of Budd-apest, fighting for the Desert King, saw the slavery in action and decided to do something about it. OoC: I originally wasn't going to build for this WZ. But then I got this idea in my head. I hope it works as a "medieval pumping station." The instructions just said to make it realistic based on what they had available back then. And what was more readily available than men?

Disco's Guerilla's Build: Here starts the counter Guerilla: Once passed under the Great Arch, the people started feeling save as they know it took Sultan Santani b'Rack Ji'Fall 5 years to conquer Everlast 1300 years ago, even with an army of 20.000 soldiers!!!! Just like any other day, daily life was going on in Everlast, with some heavy equipped guards patrolling in the streets. While suddenly, the assassin jumped out of a building!! With a quick and precious hit, he stabbed one of the guards... He was already calculating how to kill the other guard when suddenly he felt a sword piercing through his body... "Bloody idiot, before entering, you should know Everlast has Undead Riders... And what is dead, can't die anymore..." --------------------------- Figless: --------------------------- Congratz Disco for making such a nice guerilla attack!!! But I hope this one blows your stunning entry! C&C welcome ofcourse!! I would like to claim UOP-credit for Forced Perspective!

The banks of the Arkbri River were very muddy and sometimes it was hard to tell which way was the deeper water and which way was the bank. Some High Council soldiers had been spying on the men of Budd-apest who were traveling with the Desert King's emissaries. The High Council soldiers had been hiding in the rushes of the river and had heard enough so they turned around to wade away from the Desert King's campsite to find a safe place to climb out. They had been wandering for a half hour and both soldiers were worried that they may never find the bank when the Desert King's men found the spies. (I would like the next WZ to be D7 if I win)

In many of the towns and cities that declared their support for Ulandas, there were those who disagreed with their leader's choices. One such official was Alshebalba. He was willing, for a price, to be convinced to slow down the war efforts as best he could in his village.

Budd-apest, a city in the foothills of the Rakath mountains between Sultan’s Gate and Qarkura, is rich in Kaliphlinian history. Many decades ago the monks of Cedrica had proclaimed the need for a crusade to make holy the creatures of Nocturnus. Many minor lords saw this as an opportunity to claim new land in the name of the crusade. The forces gathered and marched for Nocturnus. They planned to travel through the Rakath mountains but found the way blocked by the Kelra Labyrinths. Many tried to brave the Labyrinth and were never seen again. Others headed south to attempt to cross the mountains closer to the Kaliphlin border. Few made it through the harsh mountains and those who did found the inhabitants less than happy about their reason for being in Nocturnus. The monks heralded the men as brave souls, but agreed that the venture should not be attempted again any time soon. A small band of these crusaders, as they headed south to avoid the Labyrinth, found themselves caught in a fierce sand storm. The sand storm raged for days and the small group of travelers found themselves thoroughly lost. They eventually found themselves at the Sultan’s Gate and, assuming they were still heading towards Nocturnus, climbed the path up the cliff. The traders at the top were more than happy to sell the weary travelers provisions at a marked up price and to direct them further into Kaliphlin knowing the next traders would be able to profit as much as they had from these crusaders. It wasn’t until the crusaders arrived at the little city of Budd-apest that someone honest told them how far from their destination they were. The travelers were broke and exhausted. Having pity on them, some of the town leaders opened their homes to the foreigners. The monks among the troop shared their beliefs in the sect known as the Way. Many natives of Budd-apest believed the monks and accepted their faith as their own. The knights among the crusaders saw first hand that sharing their beliefs through peace was far more effective than through conquest. So when a band of raiders attacked the city, these knights placed themselves in the front lines of the city’s defense. After their successful victory the Sultan gave all of the knights the honorary title of “The Red Guard” and told them they would always be welcome in Budd-apest. A few of the band decided to leave for home, but most of the troop stayed. A compound was built housing a church, barracks, and a few other buildings. The monks made it a welcoming place and the knights made it a place of safety. In Budd-apest today many of the original crusaders still live in the compound. New converts have joined their ranks, some opting to join the monks and others the knights. The city itself is divided between followers of the Way and the other predominate religion in the city, followers of the Destroyer. After the favor shown to the crusaders in allowing them to have the Red Guard, the leaders of the Destroyer sect demanded equal privilege. They formed a group known as the Masketeers because of their use of masks. The Red Guard and the Masketeers did not like each other, but they tolerated one another because they knew in-fighting would only cause problems for the city they loved instead of solving its problems. As war began in Kaliphlin, it was no secret that Budd-apest supported the Desert King. They knew that without the leadership of the Pharaoh all those years ago, Kaliphlin would probably be ruled by the Drow. They also knew that the Ulander’s promises were too lofty for them to actually keep. Promising the throne to Mitgardia alone proved that they didn’t know how things worked in Historica and that they were only interested in their own devices. Mitgardians were too focused on events within their own borders to care about ruling all 4 guilds. As for the council, they fought more than they accomplished anything of benefit. The Desert King was the obvious choice for the people of the city. The Desert King, knowing of the opportunity for alliance with Budd-apest, sent some of his eastern-mountain mummies to parlay with the city. Eastern-Mountain mummies are very different from desert or regular mountain mummies, preferring to use the katana over the khopesh. When the Desert King ruled, he was over those who used both the khopesh and the katana so when he rose, the eastern-mountain mummies heard his call and answered the same as their desert brothers. The Sultan, with representatives from the Red Guard, the Masketeers, and a half-Leander known as Charlemagne meet with the mummies at one of the city’s gates. The Sultan was agreeing to assist the Desert King with both supplies and men when an assassin attacked. Charlemagne was too quick for the assassin though, and dispatched him with ease. A note was found in the assassin’s pocket with details of a meeting of soldiers with plans to attack the Desert King's forces. A plan was quickly put into place for the men from Budd-apest to prove their worth to the Desert King. They marched out to meet the soldiers and managed to take most of them prisoner with minimal casualties. It was unclear whether these men were from the High Council or from Ulandas for none of them would talk. But the Sultan of Budd-apest knew that the prisoners would come in handy eventually. And as an added benefit his men had proven their worth to the Desert King.

(Edit: messed up on the title... again. Faction name should be Desert King. My next pick is B7.) The Desert King's minions could barely control their laughter at the sight of the High Council scout now. The scout had almost escaped them, until one of the mercenaries had the idea of catching the reeds on fire and flushing him out. Naturally, the Desert King's mummy regulars were skeptical of anything involving fire, but the scout had to be caught and he would be impossible to find in the maze of reeds. The mummies had stood a safe distance back as the fire ravaged through the vegetation. It wasn't long before they heard a yelp and saw the scout scramble up a palm tree. Surrounded and nearly roasted, the scout had quickly pleaded for mercy. The mummies got a few more chuckles in before ordering a mercenary to rescue the scout and place him in custody. They were anxious to hear what details this poor fellow could share with the Desert King. ---------------------------------------- Greetings! Close to the eleventh hour, but here's my Warzone 1 build! There's been a lot of good entries in this challenge, it was difficult trying to do something unique! The glowing fire was done using LEDs from LifeLites. Thanks for looking, and glory to the Desert King!

The Arkbri Skirmishes (WZ1:E7) For the Desert King! "You High Council scum think to spy upon us!? Ha! Death awaits you, sir!" Ulandian scouts come upon two spies planted by the High Council near the Arkbri river and a fierce skirmish ensues... "One councilman down, one to go!" The fighting intensifies, and the remaining soldiers give no notice to the sands shifting beneath their feet... Hidden just below the surface of the bank, the undead soldiers of the Desert King rise through the sand, and swiftly take down the Ulandians and High Councilman. A few more photos showing the whole build: With just the good guys: Thanks for having a look... and for the next warzone I'd pick: F8

The Nile Crocs strike again!! Led by the mysterious Ka-a-Sobek, the fearsome Nile Crocs wage war against the enemies of the Desert King, mercilessly eliminating small groups of hostiles. Following a series of minor victories they have become increasingly aggressive and have begun to set their sights on bigger prizes... After receiving word that a large Ulandian force would be passing nearby Ka-a-Sobek knew it was finally time to go all out. He gathered all his troops in nearby areas and planned an ambush… It was a peaceful, sunny day. A gentle, soothing breeze rustled the pam trees, and the water was calm, reflecting the beautiful blue sky. There was a tranquil silence, broken only by the occasional squawk of tropical bird deeper in the trees. Suddenly the silence was shattered by a continuous tapping sound, growing louder by the minute. Suddenly a pair of marching soldiers came into view, then another pair, and another, and another, until a score of soldiers could be seen marching in a column. They wore strange looking breastplates and were garbed in a light shade of green. On their heads they work polished silvery helmets, which shone blindingly in the sunlight and carried razor sharp spears. These were soldiers of the Second Legion of Ulandus, the Salamanders. Suddenly, the entire line dissolved into chaos. Along the entire bank Nile Croc warrior appeared out of the water, rushing onto the shore while more warriors appeared in the water behind them. Ka-a-Sobek led the attack from the front, ambushing the front of the column. He burst out of the water, shouted "ATTACK!!!!!" and charged onto the shore.There he dueled against the Ulandian officer in command of this unit. The duel was ferocious, and several times Ka-a-Sobek barely avoided being impaled by the Ulandian. The duel raged on for several minutes, during which the Crocs finished off the remaining Ulandians Eventually the Ulandian officer tired slightly, and Ka-a-Sobek quickly ended the duel. The battle was won! After the battle the Nile Crocs had a huge feast, which lasted the rest of the day. Afterwards they left a message nearby for the Ulandians Additional Pictures: Ulandian Officer Croc Elder The road Figless The Nile Crocs trained war crocodile Sorry about the bad pictures(again). I was in a HUGE rush to take these since I had to leave for a ski trip immediately after this and I wasn't going to get back till after the deadline, so I had almost no time time to take pictures. C and C appreciated

{Cue: Thomas Bergensen Music} CRUNCH! The sound of bones snapping beneath his mace gave Nasr a sense of grim satisfaction bordering upon delight. The sniveling Ulandan's arm seemed to snap downward as Nasr's mace hit it's shoulder and it opened it's mouth to cry out in pain only to have it's head smashed in from the side as Nasr brought his mace back in an underhand blow, sending the Ulandan flying several yards before he hit the ground with a delightful snapping sound that could only be it's spine. That's what it was anyway, an It. These Ulandan scum, traitorous backstabbers that they were, should not be addressed as human beings. Their place was in Sheol. And that was why Nasr was here, to kill the lot of them and send the cowardly “High Council” soldiers whining back to their crumbling cities of sand, in the name of the Desert King. There was a shout from his right and Nasr turned to see a Barqaian knight charging toward him. A smirk spread over his masked face and he raised his mace, swinging a diagonal blow, the hardest to dodge, at the man's torso. The man surprised him by leaping back nimbly, just out of reach of Nasr's mace, and then leaping back in again, landing a thrust right under Nasr's arm-guards. Not a fatal wound, but painful none-the-less. Nasr swung at the man again, forcing him to leap back out of range, and giving Nasr a slight rest-bit. Nasr studied the man just as he knew the man was studying. Clearly he was a prize fighter, and a good swordsman. But it was his athletic ability that worried Nasr the most. Nasr's own armor would only hinder him in a fight like this, so apparently the only way to defeat him was to somehow catch him off guard, get him within range and keeping him there the seconds it would require for Nasr to swing his mace in the fatal stroke. Nasr lowered his shield slightly, as if weary from battle. In reality his muscles were taught, in preparation for the move the knight was bound to take. He took it. Leaping forward, the knight sliced at Nasr's exposed neck. Nasr sidestepped ever so slightly and brought his shield up just enough to deflect the knight's sword toward the ground, throwing him off balance. Nasr's mace was already in motion. The knight saw his mistake immediately and also saw that it was too late. Unable to change his position fast enough, the knight raised his sword and sliced toward Nasr's exposed neck, trying to bring his enemy down with him. Nasr merely changed the direction of his blow to compensate for the blow. The blow struck. The knights armor snapped and cracked beneath Nasr's mace like so many nut-shells, and Nasr felt more then heard the knights bones crack beneath his armor. Without so much as a death cry the knight fell. He was dead before he even hit the ground. Nasr roared out his wordless battle-cry of victory, raising his bloodied mace above his head. Around him knights and foot-soldiers alike quailed, their faces white as they saw his huge black form over the bloodstained form of their hero. A blood-red film started to cover Nasr's vision as the blood-lust began to take hold of him. This was the day the Desert King would win the Erexhi! And he would be a leading force behind the conquest! Suddenly Nasr felt an bolt of pain from his left leg which, without warning, gave way beneath him. There was an echoing thud as he hit the ground. The red film before his eyes turned to red mists of pain as his leg twisted beneath him. He let out a howl that fairly shook the ground around him and shook leaves off of the tree above him. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of a Barqaian archer hastily retreating from where she had shot from, a smug expression spread across her face. Anger rippled through Nasr and he angrily ripped the barbed shaft from his leg. Immediately a pool of blood started to form underneath him. As he stared at it Nasr's brain started to clear, partly do to the pain. If he didn't get this bound soon then he would most assuredly bleed to death ad then what use would he be to the Desert King? But on the other hand, who would respect him if he returned wounded defeated? By a crossbow-man no less! A new shot of pain came from his leg and instinct immediately took effect in Nasr's brain, subjugating all of his honor to it's will. Nasr rose to his feet and started a limping run toward the boundary-lines, ignoring all other warriors, even as they parted before him like the sea before the prow of a ship. Even as he ran he could see the outcome of the battle. The Council's men had taken advantage of the momentary distraction and were pushing back the disheartened Desert King soldiers and the few Ulandans left on the field. The battle had been lost to the High Council. The build. I tried to make it look barren, like rock formed of molten lava, and a layer of sand over that. The rockwork is a variation of the type you saw in my Character Intro, along with the tree. Strangely, this is my first attempt at this style of base, and I think it turned out pretty well! As for it's elliptic shape... let's just say I consolidated all of the limited overhang on two ends. Would this qualify for desert landscaping in UoP points? If so, I'll apply for that... Soli Deo Gloria & Sola Gracia! Snap. Forgot to add the H9 to my title.

Loving the thrill of battle and wishing to test his skill, Gal-Turok himself enters the melee. Stripping out of his heavy army to more traditional Goblin garbs, he use his smaller size and superior agility to out duel two Ulandians quite easily. I forgot to put Desert King in the title.

If winning, I pick E2 as new warzone. The boy's arm was already broken. Osric's men did not care if a prisoner got hurt as long as he was still able to speak. "Listen boy. I do not care about your politics down here. All I'm interested in is the loot." He looked at the rat holding the shaduf, an ancient and primitive well sweep that was used in the southern lands since time immemorial. The exiled rat king could se the desire in his soldier's eyes to just drown this foolish spy they had catched early in the morning. "I'm tired of asking. Now simply tell me all about strength and position of your battaillon and all of this will quick be over." The young soldier's voices was bruised from the blood pressing on his head:"You're going to kill me either way. I don't talk to vermin like you." Osric made a last desultory attempt to convince him:"Oh boy. There are so many ways to die. And some are not very pleasant. I could simply let my men gnaw off your fett and throw the pitiful rest of you into the river." "Nocturnian scum! Your mummy king will soon return to hell. Now end this, I am ready for it." Osric had lost interest in his prisoner. There were sure still other spies around to catch. Perhaps some who were easier to intimidate. He looked to the rat holding the sweep:"He seems thirsty. It was an uncomfortable morning for him. Give him water."

Khalesh and Atem, two loyal militiamen of the Desert King, prepare to get the drop on yet another unsuspecting Ulandian. So, my entry to warzone 4, C+C welcome!

Failing the Peace (Challenge IV Prelude, Chapter 20) Chapters so far: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Failing the Peace guildhall by skaforhire, on Flickr “But, if we give up the city, we will have no leverage to get it back!” Mikeo complained. “The battle at the Wither Woods will be for naught!” petera by skaforhire, on Flickr “Let me remind you that we LOST that battle. Perhaps we should have retreated to Gearsport after the battle. We would have had less deserters.” Petera said calmly. He knew this was the right decision. The longer Dugal sieged Eastgate, the longer valuable High Council troops would be in the Wither Woods doing nothing to stop the march of the Desert King or the Ulandians. Petera knew Dugal was too stubborn to abandon Eastgate for the greater good, so Petera would have to do it. Petera also knew that Dugal had maneuvered for a seat on the High Council for the ruler of Gearsport, which was supposed to go to Paulos. Petera would be legitimately back on the High Council, if he could clear the claim to the other GEAR Co. run city. “You are just upset about your friend. Why don’t we surprise attack Dugal or DaMaximus’s forces and kill a bunch of them – that will make you feel better.” Mikeo said. Petera was grieving the loss of his good friend, Lord Folston, but bloodshed never made him feel good. Ever. Mikeo was still young, he had died when they were 11, and Petera had only rescued his twin from the underworld a little over a year ago. Needless to say, Mikeo was much like a young teenager and did not think things through. “What would that do, but put the Council in even poorer position?” Petera said. Often he had to point out strategy that did not sit at the tip of his brother’s nose. “Besides, what has changed that we could force our hand like that? We would get tired and no one would be able to stay in the city and keep the protective shield up. If we lose, then the city would be lost too.” Petera had constructed the great shield to protect Eastgate from Revolword’s elementals. Now he used it to keep Dugal out. It was a system of amplification crystals and a few ancient relics. A mage of great power had to be operating it at all times. Right now Avona was controlling it. “Well, you wanted to abandon the city anyway; we might as try to win our own war before we go fight another!” Mikeo replied. Petera could see his logic, but knew it was flawed. “Again, keeping both armies intact would be more beneficial.” Petera said. “I don’t want to move to Gearsport, it is a backwater!” Mikeo said. “Perhaps you should lead my troops against the Desert King, while I concentrate on First Centurion and his Ulandian legions.” Petera retorted. Mikeo replied, “Do you think I am ready? I feel like I have so much to learn.” He did. Besides the stunting of his personality and emotions due to his premature death, Mikeo still had not fully reached his magical potential. He could have been as strong as Petera, but he probably would never hit that mark. Magic needed to be developed early, or else a sorcerer would miss out on some of his power. That is why Petera was apprenticed to Revolword so early, his power was predicted to be greater than any mage that was currently in the Eastgate College of Magic and Navigation. Mikeo, had he lived, could have been just as great perhaps. “Perhaps a little more experience in battle would help you hone your abilities.” Petera replied. “I seriously doubt the Desert King has much that can stand up to you. “ and he believed that, but he then added, “do not engage Raa by yourself. You are not ready for that, it is likely it will take both of us to defeat him, or perhaps even more mages.” “Or a well-placed blade, “ Mikeo chuckled. +-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+- DSC_1640 by skaforhire, on Flickr Dugal and Gideon stood at the window in the small council room. “He says that he will leave Eastgate, move his headquarters to Gearsport, and relinquish his claims.” Dugal was telling Gideon about the strange message he had received from his brother. “He would then welcome me as a brother in arms again as we fight our common enemies.” “What about after the war?” Gideon asked. “It says that we would negotiate a settlement of monies and armies.” Dugal replied. Dugal knew that Petera wanted a legal seat on the High Council, perhaps this was the only way he thought he could get one without killing two of his brothers, and somehow making them stay dead. “Perhaps this would be the best way to heal your family and help Kaliphlin at the same time.” Gideon said. Petera had done a lot to hurt the Macleans. He had had Dugal Murdered, kidnapped Merith, tried to kill Paulos at Queenscross, fought one of the largest battles in recent Historican memory against his brothers, raised their third brother from the dead to turn him into a warrior puppet, and held Eastgate hostage. On top of that, he had sided with Revolword in secret, although he later claimed that he had left Revolword’s apprenticeship as soon as he found out that the old mage was waging a war on the King. Still, there was a lot to forgive. “Perhaps he realizes that he cannot call your axe, and knows that he is not destined to rule Eastgate?” Gideon continued. He was referring to the Golden Axe of Eastgate, which could be called by the city’s rightful ruler at any time. Dugal had been able to call the axe as soon as he left the underworld, apparently Petera had never been able to get the axe to come to him while Dugal was dead, but neither could Paulos. “He may realize that this is the only way out for him. You and him fight each other, and the Desert King or First Centurion kills you both. He wins, he is too weak to protect Eastgate. The rest of the High Council don’t accept him, and it falls. You win, you are too weak to protect Eastgate. IT is lose, lose, lose.” “I suppose with the most recent report from Knightsbridge, that we cannot stay out of the war any longer. The peacekeeping has failed, and we will need all the troops we can get.” Dugal was pretty sure that Gideon would side for the High Council, but nowadays no one could tell. He glanced down at the report in his hand. aDSC_1948 by skaforhire, on Flickr It came from a soldier who was at Knightsbridge when the Ulandians took it. He said that Lord Folston had beaten back a wave of the Desert King’s forces, but had to turn around to fight the Ulandians immediately. The soldier saw the Ulandians winning overwhelmingly, was told by Lord Folston to try and get a message to the council, then watched as Folston was killed. He was able to shed his armor and jump into the river below. The Ulandians shot arrows at him, but he managed to escape. aDSC_194a9 by skaforhire, on Flickr As if he was reading Dugal’s mind, High Lord Bain Ba’Elder walked up to the next window and said “ Shame those ruthless Ulandians killed every single soldier except one. I am just glad the Desert King’s men were there to take back the position. The real enemy are the Ulandians!” Lady Phlici was not too far behind him. “Are you serious? The Desert King attacked High Council peace keeping troops first! He is the enemy! We don’t know if this soldier wasn’t sent by him to fool us all. They are now in possession of the town, it is likely that they wiped out both sets of troops before taking it.” “You should be careful when talking about our rightful ruler.” Bain had clearly sided with the Desert King and was now just trying to drag the majority of the Council that direction. The rest of the council was in confusion. Three sides had emerged, those who thought that Kaliphlin should follow Pharaoh Raa to glory, those who thought that the Ulandians provided stable and strong partners to grow Kaliphlin, and a new third party, the High Council that wanted to keep Kaliphlin the proto-republic it had been under Dextrus Flagg, which Dugal supported. The High Council faction had seen that blood would have to be shed, they would have to fight to achieve a peace. Not knowing who started the bloodshed at Knightsbridge had led the council in the three directions. Some of the High Council faction had come to that side because they desired to punish both sides for bringing war to Kaliphlin. The High Council still refused to pull the trigger and begin operations against either side, there were still too many unanswered questions. If the Ulandians wiped out Folston and Knightsbridge, how did the Desert King get control of it? Reports were starting to come in that both sides were looking to take Queenscross, and operations were already on the way on the banks of the Arkbi river. Peacekeepers would soon be full-blown soldiers if the council had to fight to hold Qeenscross. But still, the council did not move to protect what territory it still held. Dugal looked out the window and sighed. He tried to tune the two out as they continued to argue. It was a beautiful day in Kaliphlin, but how long until war touched the capital? He looked down below him at the Lion Door, one of the main gates of the Kaliphlin Guild Hall. Many people went about their day below, some waited for news of the brewing civil war, while others were out for a walk, and some were just curious about the giant golden lion shields that adorned this part of the building. DSC_1644 by skaforhire, on Flickr DSC_1626 by skaforhire, on Flickr Then ground began to quake. The building shook violently. The ceiling began to bow and pieces fell around them. A rafter fell on Bain. Dugal couldn’t get to him as more of the decorated walls peeled off like a layer of fat on a good cooked roast. Gideon and Dugal ran down the corridor to the stairs. Phlici was nowhere to be found. Dugal could hear the centuries-old supports crunching and gnawing at one another. The walls continued to crumble, and some of the stairs gave out, but the two high councilors made it out the Lion gate in time, with only moments to spare. The whole structure fell on itself, and dust flew into the air. DSC_1660 by skaforhire, on Flickr As the dust cleared, Dugal could see Phlici, being escorted by her Centurion friend, Lat’ve. He was coughing, but both of them seemed to have made it out unscathed. What was he even doing here? Gideon yelled to Dugal, and when he turned to come to his friend, he saw why Gideon had yelled. One of the great shields of the Lion Door had fallen on a young child. Dugal ran over to help Gideon. DSC_1664 by skaforhire, on Flickr They shoved with all their might, but it was too late. The girl was gone. So was the little boy that Dugal had seen from the window. A rock had fallen on his head. His mother dead on the stairs to whatever was left of the Guild Hall. dest by skaforhire, on Flickr Bain appeared in the rubble. “You guys need to let it go, she is gone.” Dugal had not even realized he was still trying to move the shield. “What happened?” asked Gideon, “ was that another earthquake?” Dugal looked around. “No. this was an attack.” Dugal pointed at the other buildings surrounding the Guild Hall. They were all in perfect shape. The ground had not shaken anywhere but here. “Was this magic?” Bain asked, but Dugal felt that Bain was playing coy. “I can only think of one entity that has the ability to smite something this large.” Dugal said. “Your buddy, the Desert King.” “That is ridiculous.” Bain said. “Besides, why would he try to kill some of his followers? I was standing right next to you!” he shouted. Then he turned to Phlici. “What is he doing here? “ Bain motioned at Lat’ve. “Perhaps he put flammable liquid or used some sort of Centurion magic on the Guild Hall!” Lat’ve began to speak, but Phlici overrode him. “HE does not have to take this from you! You mummy loving sack of cat hair!” she growled. “Clearly, the council can’t protect us from the Desert King. I will throw my full support behind the Ulandians and their attempts to rid Kaliphlin of the Desert King. I fight with our brothers, the Ulandians!” She declared and stomped off. Bain, announcing to everyone who had not figured this out already, “This attack by Ulandus on the Guild Hall shall not go unpunished!” he yelled. “Raa shall avenge this deed!” He went off in the opposite direction. “You know this was a mass assassination attempt on all of us?” Gideon said. Dugal nodded. “We better see who is left.” Dugal motioned to the rubble. He began to talk as they searched “ Both sides would benefit from wiping out the council, the Ulandians would have no opposition, and likely rule the council. The Desert King would have no petty lords to stop him from ruling Kaliphlin as he sees fit” “I think you better make peace with your brother. We are going to need him.” Gideon said, as they both wandered the rubble.

Vengeance at Knightsbridge (Challenge IV Prelude, Chapter 19) Chapters so far: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 (ALSO: War of the Brothers Part II Chapter 1a HERE for more on that) Siegeofknightsbridge by skaforhire, on Flickr Vengeance at Knightsbridge Kaliphlin-north-east-0 by skaforhire, on Flickr Ulik’Boar, a Desert King scout, walked through the carnage at Knightsbridge. Severed heads, cauterized body parts, blood (but this build is PG because I am taking it to a show for kids this weekend. ), men with terror still frozen on their face. His fellow Kaliphlinites all of them, but many on this side of the bridge belonged to his side of the civil war. They had tried to take the town early in the morning, but their men had been repelled before even getting across the bridge into the heavier fortifications of Knightsbridge. aDSC_1943 by skaforhire, on Flickr The Desert King’s Mountain Eagle Division had a firm grip on another strategic town to the North, Needletop, this position was where the Peak Road broke off back towards Sultan’s Gate and also in the direction of the Sea. Knightsbridge was an important position because it controlled any movement to the south through the Rakath Mountain. It was for this reason that their commander, Ellan Boen, had decided to take the fortified mountain town. Knightbridge was mostly underground, it was an old dwarf stronghold, most people said. Upon realizing that the town and the fortifications were one in the same, Boen had made sure that the holdout High Councilor Lord Folston knew that they were coming. Ulik’Boar had personally counted the numbers of women and children that were sent down the mountain into Needletop for protection. The Desert King promised their safety, even if the men of the town chose to continue fighting. This would be the first full attack on the High Council, but the king did not want any negotiations hampered by an unnecessary slaughter of innocents. It was a hard fought battle from what the few Desert King survivors of the attack said, however, they were unsuccessful in dislodging Lord Folston. Two of the Desert King’s high guard had perished on the mountain, nad now Ulik’Boar could see one of their bodies. His hair on the back of his neck was still standing straight up. He couldn’t believe that he snuck into the town so easily, until he got to the first crest. All he heard was the rushing water of the river beneath the bridge, and all he could see were bodies. Desert King pledges, High Council troops, and Ulandians… He tried to piece together what had happened here. He covered Lord Folston’s body, after the high guard of course. aDSC_1944 by skaforhire, on Flickr As he moved across the bridge now, he was careful, just in case there were any survivors. aDSC_1947 by skaforhire, on Flickr The other side of the town was just as terrible. There was a siege ladder, up, but not one survivor. He made his way down the other side of the Peak Road now, about a mile, and found no signs of any living soul. He smiled for the first time that day. Looks like the Mountain Eagle Division had won Knightsbridge by default. +-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-++-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-++-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-++-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-++-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+- A few hours earlier. Lord Folston had dreaded Lord Petera’s letter. He touched the amulet that came with it – the amulet was supposed to give Folston renewed vigor during a fight, but right now, the icy cold pendent just made him more nervous. A Desert King Army had taken Needlepoint, and the Ulandians were spotted only a few miles down the other direction on the Peak Rode. Things could not be worse. There was no place to even go if they wanted to retreat. He could not surrender, as both the High Council and Petera had given him direct orders to hold the ground at all cost – hold the ground so the Desert King and the Ulandians could not fight one another! Rumors had already made it to him that they were fighting elsewhere! He wanted to just camp high in his four towers and let both sides use the bridge. Let them fight it out right on the blasted thing. He would do his duty though. aDSC_1850 by skaforhire, on Flickr He didn’t have much time to fret. As the early morning mountain air just started to warm up, a century saw the Desert King’s men making it up the West face of the mountain. He was shorthanded… very shorthanded. He had less than 25 men left, a squad of archers and crossbowmen, and a squad of swordsmen. Even his personal fool was given a weapon. Knightsbridge was a chokepoint; this gave them a slight advantage, forcing the enemy to come nearly single file up the long windy Peak Road, that at points was no wider than a horse. The only problem was, if the Ulandians arrived at the same time, no one would be able to be on the East side of the river to defend the town. aDSC_1862 by skaforhire, on Flickr The Desert King’s Mountain Eagle division charged up the road, past the unmanned murder holes within the underground and up to the first switchback at the top of the mountain. Folston commanded his men personally, lending his own sword. His sergeant of Arms Macbarker Swane, his loyal companion for many years, took the vanguard position. The fight was on. aDSC_1855 by skaforhire, on Flickr aDSC_1848 by skaforhire, on Flickr The Mountain Mummies pushed hard, but by the time they made it to the final switchback, the plateau as it was called, the forces of the Desert King were exhausted and surrounded. aDSC_1863 by skaforhire, on Flickr Folston’s men forced the remaining enemy back down the mountain. And Victory was theirs. aDSC_1871 by skaforhire, on Flickr aDSC_1868 by skaforhire, on Flickr Until a shout came from the east side of the river. “The Ulandians are here!” Folston shouted to his men, the ones who had survived. “Quick, we must cross and hold the Calling Grounds!” His men, led again by Macbarker, ran across the bridge and down into the Calling Grounds, the open space between the road and the fortifications on the east side of town. aDSC_1876 by skaforhire, on Flickr To their dismay, the Ulandians had brought siege ladders up the mountain side. He could see the first few blue-clad Sand Wolves (the 3rd Legion he had learned) climbing the first ladder. “Knock’em down boys!” Growled Macbarker. SandWolves by skaforhire, on Flickr Folston had actually met with this company’s one armed leader, a grizzly old veteran named Shan’Feng. He had offered terms of surrender last week, but said that they would not offer again. Folston didn’t like the terms, which included a trip for his men to an Ulandus prisoner camp. Folston thought it odd that this was the company sent against his town. From what he had learned, the 3rd legion was mostly a reconnaissance organization. He had asked Shan’Feng about this, and the one-armed man laughed. He replied “Even the Third Legion has teeth, we are part wolf after all.” aDSC_1890 by skaforhire, on Flickr As this point, more and more Ulandians were pouring into the Calling Grounds. The Sand Wolves pushed Folston’s Men back, while getting into the small tower. Folston knew that if just one tower fell, they would use the secret passages between all of the towers to quickly kill his archers. Things were not looking good, and he fell back across the bridge. aDSC_1893 by skaforhire, on Flickr The bridge was wooden for this very reason. As he crossed he looked for a torch to light the bridge. It was a last ditch effort, but it should preserve half of his city. He turned to find his last guard fell by a Ulandian Drow warrior. Folston had always found it odd that the Ulandians had somehow broken their drow and made them normal citizens… His mind came back to the problem at hand. He looked up at his towers. aDSC_1899 by skaforhire, on Flickr aDSC_1911 by skaforhire, on Flickr It was only a matter of minutes before they would all fall. Folston made the decision to take out as many of these Ulandian scum as possible. “FOR EASTGATE, AND A WHOLE KALIPHLIN FOREVER!” He cried as he stepped into a pile of pursuers. aDSC_1906 by skaforhire, on Flickr As he fought, he felt the renewed energy… and the only other thought he had besides stab, parry, thrust, was that of his dear old friend. He hoped Macbarker found as honorable a death as he was about to have. aDSC_1908 by skaforhire, on Flickr +-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-++-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-++-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-++-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-++-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+- Petera’s body went cold. He turned to Avona, his fiancé, and Wind-mistress of Historica, “Hold the Protective Shield. Keep Eastgate Safe. My good friend Folston is dead.” Before she could reply, he had teleported away. The necklace he had sent Folston was enchanted to give the wearer strength, but it was also attuned to Petera so that he could track the wearer. If a wearer was injured it would send a signal to Petera, but if the wearer was killed, Petera would feel it in the core of his being. Folston had been a good friend, a true friend. And when Petera blinked into existence at Knightsbridge, the carnage he saw near Folston’s body confirmed that the man was loyal and courageous to the end. Petera’s emotion raged, but he turned his anger into a hand in his mind, and the hand swept away his emotion and reached into to the magical void where all his energy came from. In a instant, he let the raw power take him into the depths of destruction and he was leviathan. aDSC_1916 by skaforhire, on Flickr He had ported onto the bridge, and immediately opened up fire on a Drow Ulandian. Executing him with a firebeam. Simultaneously he constructed a wall of power behind him to cut off the east side of the river, and a lightening shield crackled into existence on his left arm. aDSC_1917 by skaforhire, on Flickr He saw a rush of Ulandians coming from the West, and blinked into the middle of them. They raised their weapons to attack, but he was already dealing killing blows all around him. peterasveng by skaforhire, on Flickr They fell and he teleported to the top of the tallest tower, and executed three more. aDSC_1923 by skaforhire, on Flickr He could see their commander, and that would have been his next stop, but the commander’s mage teleported the two of them far away when they saw who exactly had shown up to finish this battle. Instead he teleported down to the Calling Grounds. This time using his wall of power to keep Ulandians from running away from him. aDSC_1931 by skaforhire, on Flickr Archers attacked him from the rear, and he could hear more soldiers running at him. He leapt up a wall and incinerated the closet Ulandian in midair. aDSC_1927 by skaforhire, on Flickr aDSC_1934 by skaforhire, on Flickr He threw his lightening shield and took out an archer. ADSC_1935 by skaforhire, on Flickr He landed and finished off another guard above him with a fireblast. takingcare by skaforhire, on Flickr Minutes went by… there were no more left. No more. For a moment he thought about going to Needletop and destroy the other enemy army, but as his rage began to subside, grief began to wash over him. He was tired. He had used too much of his power too quickly. He was vulnerable. He had just enough to get back home to Avona, where he spent the night in her arms, aching for lost friends

(Early one morning in the middle of Kaliphlin. The Ulander advanced guard patrols the area.) Soldier 1: This is the most boring job ever... they could have at least positioned us closer to the river. These reeds are pesky enough to drive one mad! Captain: Ahem! What's that? Would you quit maltreating the reeds and keep a better look out already! Soldier 1: Alright, but there seems to be nothing to look at but reeds and- Soldier 2: I spy... another coconut! Captain: Would you stop that already!? You've been doing nothing else for the last ten minutes! Soldier 2: By the way, captain, do you have any idea what that gigantic coco- Captain: Arrgggg! If you mention a coconut again I'll- Soldier 2: No, seriously, check it out for yourself. (points toward to palm tree) Captain: Hmm! That does look odd, let me see (pulls out telescope and looks at the tree. After focusing it he jumps nearly his own height into the air and then rolls over laughing) Soldier 1: Well? What is it? Captain: (still laughing very hard, hands over the telescope) look at that for a second! (A little later, creeping up to the tree) Captain: Shh! Sounds like he's talking to himself. Mummy: (sipping his coconut juice, enjoying the swaying motion of the tree) Ahh! This's the best spy mission I've been on for a long time! Slurp! Quite a nice vantage point as well, ha! I would like to recieve UoP credit for: Landscape Design - trees (3) Geography - grasslands If I win I would pick L8 as the next battlefield. Thanks for viewing, C&C are welcome!

Here is my entry to the WZ1, in the name of the Desert King. The Desert King sent a lot of warriors to the Lonely Mountain Rumble. But one of the most famous was Razcal bin Azad. Born in the deserts of Kaliphin and grown up as a nomad in the endless sand, he was well known for his toughness. Armed with two masterly forged blades, and trained to use them like never seen before. Getting into a real killing spree was no challenge for him, against those strange looking Ulandian Bugs. By the way there is NO support for the figure, that might have been deleted with photoshop. The blade is hooked into the bugs teeth, that is everything holding the figure in the air. (The next zone to attack should be B7) Greets Disco

A DK soldier and two Goblins from the Rakath capture a scout.

Well this one is the longest... A King Reborn (Challenge IV Prelude, Chapter 18) Chapters so far: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 A King Reborn (Sorry, I had some really bad lighting issues with most of the rest of the builds.) throneroom by skaforhire, on Flickr The Desert King Ark'Mora Raa looked down on the Nile Croc emissary lying prostrate before him. He was in his secret throne room in Kaligem – the lost city was being repaired quite rapidly, and he thought that he may be able to move the capital from Sultan’s Gate back to his home in a matter of months. But today, he was here receiving pledges. The Nile Crocs were an interesting lot, he could remember freeing their ancestors from the clutches of the Goblin King, 2000 years ago. Of course then they were mostly denizens of the Enchanted Forest and not the Mainlands. He was pleased with the emissary’s people. Apparently they had already begun to fight near Queenscross in his name. It did seem as many of Kaliphlin’s peoples were pledging to their true leader once again. For the first time in a long time, he began to think about his first life, how he came to be, and Ner’I’ti. Oh Ner’I’ti… +-+-+-+-+-++-+-+-+-+-++-+-+-+-+-++-+-+-+-+-++-+-+-+-+-++-+-+-+-+-++-+-+-+-+-+ The very chamber that they sat in presently was not always a throne room. In fact, it had been the burial chamber the entire Raa Dynasty. His Greatest Grand Father still sat behind him, however the rest of his relatives were no longer occupying the chamber. tomb8 by skaforhire, on Flickr He remembered coming to the Tomb of Kings as a boy with his father Ahmendi Raa, his older brother Kalin’ti Raa, and his father’s closest advisor, Horros. This was the first time he had been allowed into the sacred crypt, and he had many questions. “quit your prattling,” his brother complained. “Father has brought you here to witness my ascension to the line of kings.” Ark’Mora was wise enough not to incur the wrath of his brother, and he knew that his brother was about to become a god, and his training told him one does not upset a god. Even if that god is his spiteful brother. The other gods had chosen Kalin’ti, and it was now time to begin his ascension. His brother was lucky, his father was still alive to start the process. His father began the sacred ritual, which lasted all of two minutes. “Fathers, gods, rulers to come, we call to you to begin Kalin’ti Raa’s ascension to Pharaoh.” Ark’Mora zoned out thinking about what this all meant. He was there because he would be first minister to his brother, although not a god like Kalin, he still would be essential in running the three kingdoms of Kaliphlin. His father had not been lucky enough to have an advisor of the same bloodline; he was forced to kill his two brothers to take the throne. His first minister, Horros, was a much different man, and Ark’Mora had realized early on in his tutelage that Horros likely kept the kingdom together, as his father distanced himself from the mortals. His father cared more for preparing himself for his second life that managing the kingdoms. This was evident in the current war against the Snow and Dark Elves of the northlands. There were rumors of the Western Marches preparing to rebel, also. His grandfather had destroyed most of the great Drow cities that were North of the three Kingdoms and had forced their people to begin to build settlements underground instead of above it, but his father’s turning away from military matters had allowed the Snow Elves and their darker kin to resurface. As first minister, he knew he would have to prosecute the war. DSC_1732 by skaforhire, on Flickr Twelve was a young age to be tutored in the way of statecraft, but Horros was sure that Ark’Mora was a promising student, so much that he had convinced his father to decree that Kalin’ti could not kill Ark’Mora. Kalin had already killed one of their brothers, as he saw him as a rival. Ark’Mora was considered too weak, and would soon become unable to bear and heir, thus taking away any sort of divinity. Ark’Mora snapped back to attention when he saw Horros’ bad eye staring at him. He knew the boy was daydreaming. His father was finishing the last part. “And May the line of Raa continue in eternity.” He had given Kalin’ti the blood amulet already, and Ark’Mora had been a little sad that he had not paid attention to the ascension. He wanted to see if Kalin’ti would change before his eyes or not. With the ceremony over, Ark’Mora began more questions. “Why is this space vacant he said, pointing to a position closest to the father of the Dynasty, Kaliph Raa. DSC_1730 by skaforhire, on Flickr “The closer to Kaliph Raa, the more important the Pharaoh. As you can see, the baby king is all the way at the end of this row, and right here, in the most important spot is your grandfather, conqueror of Nocturnus and Great Uniter of the Three Kingdoms.” Horros said. At this moment in time, Ark’Mora was uneasy thinking about the darkness of the third kingdom, Nocturnus. In time that would change greatly. Ner’I’ti… His father followed this up with his own boast: “That is my spot, I am worthy of my father’s spot. And for that reason, when Kalin’ti ascends to the throne in many lifetimes from now, I will begin my voyage to the second life here in this spot.” Ark’Mora was almost positive that his father would not be considered high enough by the priesthood for this spot, but there was a more suitable spot two sarcophagi down from his grandfather. He doubted that any of the living Raas could live up to his grandfather. His mind shifted to another time. He was walking through the streets of Kaligem with his brother and Horros. Horros was teaching the boys about responsibility. “You must be humble to people, they are your life blood” Because Kalin’ti was a god, Horros could no longer give him lessons, but he could give Ark’Mora lessons, which were meant for Kalin’ti to listen to and benefit from the same advice. Ark’Mora doubted that Kalin’ti listen to half of the speeches. Neither his father nor brother were very good with the people, and took the god aspect to a new level, his father would not let mortals touch him, while his brother believed that all mortal possessions, including their own lives, belonged to him. This was one of those times. “The hand that helps a lost soul, will have another soul to serve him in the afterlife…” Horros trailed off as Kalin’ti walked up to a sleeping man on the street. DSC_1803 by skaforhire, on Flickr “You!” Kalin’ti said, “Why do you pollute my streets with your filth?” The man jumped up immediately realizing who was standing before him. He immediately bowed. DSC_1804 by skaforhire, on Flickr “I am sorry my lord, I am a veteran of the West Marches Campaign. I came home and my house is gone, the new temple is being built there. I have no money, no more clothes, and my wife died of pox. I laid my head down here as the streets are the only home I know now. Please forgive me, I will move on.” The man graveled. DSC_1806 by skaforhire, on Flickr Kalin’ti threw the man up against the wall, and the frightened veteran cowered back to the ground. The prince lifted his foot up and began stomping on the man’s face. “You will not dirty my city. You are nothing. You are sand between my toes. You are fleas on a camel. You must know your worth – nothing. You could not have the courage to die fighting the Faeries of the Enchanted Forest, you can die here beneath my boot!” DSC_1809 by skaforhire, on Flickr Horros gasped, he knew he could not stop the prince, now that he had ascended. This was the first time the Desert King had seen someone die in front of him. +_+_ Ark’Mora’s mind flashed forward to his father’s death. He had died in sleep, and from the rumors the boy had heard, most likely from too much drink. He was now in the Tomb of Kings, where Kalin’ti was directing men to begin crafting the sarcophagus at the foot of Kaliph Raa. It was at this point that Ark’Mora had had enough. His father could not have been a god, let alone be buried next to the greatest god kings of all time. “The priests have not approved this yet.” Ark’mora said. DSC_1749 by skaforhire, on Flickr “You belittle our father after his death?” his brother said. “You think yourself on the same level to decide where a GOD is buried?” “I think Horros would agree with me, we must wait for the priests.” Ark’Mora said, knowing that he was standing on quicksand in this situation. “Horros has gone to the great hall to serve our father.” What? The Great Hall? This meant that Horros had been prepared for the afterlife – killed, mummified, and packed into the Great Hall. This was a common ritual for wives, petty servants, and cats, but not for a first minister. Horros was supposed to oversee the transition between Pharaohs. “That is not the way it is done!” Ark’Mora protests. “You will join him in the hall. Father demanded it.” His brother snickered. “Tomb Guard, take my brother to the Great Hall!” The tomb guard came forward to apprehend the boy. Without thinking, Ark’Mora ran to the tomb of the Greatest Raa, and took his staff. A gold Serpent that was said to hold immense power, that only a god could wield. Ark’Mora should not have been able to remove the staff, but he needed something to defend himself. DSC_1750 by skaforhire, on Flickr It slid out with ease, and he turned on his brother. The guard hit the ground prostrate and mumbled “oh great one.” His brother kept coming though. DSC_1754 by skaforhire, on Flickr Ark’Mora declared in a booming voice “You are not worthy, Kalin’ti. You and our father are not worthy of the power of these thrones.” And as he forced his brother back, he fell into the shallow water that surrounded the sarcophagi. But… DSC_1758 by skaforhire, on Flickr It wasn’t shallow for some reason. As he pointed the staff at his brother, his brother kept sinking… the water should not even come up to his knees, but still, his brother sank. DSC_1760 by skaforhire, on Flickr Until finally, his brother disappeared without a trace. Unlike the ascension of his brother, where Ark’Mora witnessed nothing unusual, he knew that in that moment he has ascended, and he knew he was a different person. +-+-+-+ The Desert King let his mind wonder. The War against the Shadows, The reconquering of the Drow. The decimation of the Snow Elves… his three greatest military achievements. The great Arch, the Triumphal Dome of Merriph, The great Golden Road, the third wall of Kaligem, his greatest architectural achievements. His land to soldiers initiative, his adoption of citizenship for all three kingdom’s residents, even the non-human ones, his greatest political achievements. He had accomplished this all before 35 years of age. None of it compared to the love he found in Nocturnus though. The staff had led him to a cave in the Dark Kingdom where he met her. She helped him tap his powers, before he fell in love with her, he never knew that he could be so powerful… powerful enough to destroy a whole subcontinent – twice. His mind immediately went to their last moments together. It was one year after he had sunk Ulandus, and they were back in this same chamber. DSC_1764 by skaforhire, on Flickr Things had taken a turn for the worst. He had used the same mass ritual to try and destroy most of the Western Marches. western march by skaforhire, on Flickr But something had gone wrong. It had not succeeded as planned. Another great force had played against his ritual, many of his priests had died in some sort of backlash, and his reports told him that a new ruler led in the West. One who over the next six months would unite the Western Marches, tap the power of the Faeries of the Enchanted Forest, enlist the Goblin King of the same realm, ally the remaining Drow, and find a way to maneuver and army hundreds of miles to Kaligem, while dealing devastating blows to the Pharaoh’s forces. His name was Agalmar, Lord of Pender, the largest city in the Western Marches, and we was now in the Tomb of Kings. DSC_1765 by skaforhire, on Flickr “False king, Kaliphlin scum, I come here to destroy you once and for all! The people of Historica are free from your bloodline’s tyranny.” The intruder announced himself. “I Agalmar of Pender will vanquish you.” Ark’Mora called back. “Your people brought this war upon them. Three decades of peace shattered by the killing of a baby! The nation of Kaliphlin will be restored.” He readied for a fight. He was exhausted, his magic was still recharging. Much of it had been drained in the long war with South Kaliphlin and Ulandus – They had risen up in protest over his connections to Nocturnus. A trait the Ulandians would hold even to the present day, a distinct hate for the immortal, the undead, the ever living. They still cursed the name Nocturnus to this day, and most during his first life knew that the region was the source of his great magic and immortality. “You attempted to destroy the West as you did Ulandus. Well, we were not so equally terminated. Maelord, our great Fae Wizard saw your spell in progress, and the Faery forces countered your blow before it was too late.” Agalmar said. Ark’Mora would learn after he began his second life that his spell had worked partially, destroying much of the landmass of the Western Marches, and creating the Mystic Isles. Avtoday by skaforhire, on Flickr Ark’Mora stepped forward to fight the man, only one guard stood in between the two rulers. But then, out of the shadows the Goblin King appeared behind the Kaliphlinites. DSC_1767 by skaforhire, on Flickr Ner’I’ti, always by his side since his pilgrimage to Nocturnus, had no chance. The Goblin King sliced her belly, and at the same time, their unborn heir, in one fluid motion. Ark’Mora raged. He turned on the surprised Goblin King and took his head in one motion. DSC_1769 by skaforhire, on Flickr He turned around to see Agalmar dispatch his last bodyguard. But before he could make it to the Western King, he felt cold… so cold. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the Faery Magelord, Maelord. His body weakened, but he still had to fight the upstart King. For her. DSC_1771 by skaforhire, on Flickr They spun, and thrashed at each other, block after block after block, and Ark’Mora could feel all his being draining from his body. Maelord was chanting. DSC_1773 by skaforhire, on Flickr Then he felt a blade enter his back. As he fell, he turned to see the Dark Elf Prince Drooz’Kang, his bloody face smiling after just receiving vengeance. DSC_1775 by skaforhire, on Flickr He could hear them talking over his body. He was not dead. He knew gods did not die. But he was trapped. DSC_1776 by skaforhire, on Flickr “We cannot let them have his body. He is immortal, he could still rise. It would be better to take him with us back to Avon Hill.” Agalmar said. “The staff is the greater source of his power. I will take this, and forge you a sword my king.” Maelord said. “You may need it in the coming battles of retribution. The rest of Kaliphlin will not sit idle. Drooz’Kang spoke up. “I consider our bargain complete human king. Do not come over the Northmounts, our alliance held until the Desert King fell.” “Believe me, dark elf, we have no desire to tread on your tundra filled lands. Stay north, and we will not have a problem.” Agalmar said. At this point, Ark’Mora’s vision faded to black as the last words that he heard came from Maelord. “Perhaps I will make you a new coat of arms too… something more… dragony? Maybe?” +=+=+=+=+= emptyw by skaforhire, on Flickr The next thing he remembered was waking up foggy, and walking. For hundreds of miles. Day upon Day upon day he walked without knowing where he was going. His first clear memory was back in this chamber. But it was so much different. All of his kin, save Kaliph Raa had been plundered. The powerful enchantment protecting his burial place seemed to protect some of what was around him, but mostly just his sarcophagus. empty by skaforhire, on Flickr He could feel his own body regenerating, he looked down to see that he was mostly in burial rags, but he could see fresh flesh returning to his body. He felt… good. But lost, longing for her, longing for his power, his throne. Sadness swept over him as he realized that the dynasty had ended with him, and that respect for his family had dwindled enough that people dare loot their graves! He knew at that moment that he would bring back his family’s honor. He would restore the great kingdom of Kaliphlin. DSC_1729 by skaforhire, on Flickr --------------+ In the weeks to come he gained men, money, and most importantly Kaliph’s staff. Which had been given to him by a supporter… Ra… he was brought back to the present by the Nile Croc’s voice. “My lord, may I please rise and tell you more about our operation?” The Desert King smiled, benevolence, humility, but power and strength. The four points of rulership according to Horros. He would show his subjects all these traits, and he would put the Ulandians back into the ocean, tame the rebel lords, and forge new alliances to strengthen Kaliphlin once more. DSC_1798 by skaforhire, on Flickr

The Nile Crocs ambush a small patrol boat on Flagg's Reservoir, killing the scout onboard, a former soldier in the Kaliphlin Guild Forces who is now employed by the Ulandians. This was my first attempt at building a boat, and I am reasonably happy with the result. Sorry about the bad pictures. C and C appreciated If I win I choose G13

Here is my entry to the WZ2, story may be added within some days: (The next zone to attack should be D7) Greets Disco

Here is my entry to the WZ1, story may be added within some days: (The next zone to attack should be C7) Greets Disco

Deep in the Nestlands, Lady Sithanna has sent her elite Blackroot Manbats to attack the Ulandian forces there. Fighting is fierce amongst the ruins of a temple to the Armoured Eagle Goddess. A Leander sub-species, the Leoparder are fierce warriors allied to the Ulandians. My entry to the Nestlands skirmish. C+C welcome!