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This is my entry to the Eurobricks Flower Show! It's also a freebuild for Mitgardia here in the Guilds of Historica. __________________________ As an aspiring herbalist, Sigrid used to find most of her ingredients in the forest that surrounded the village. But while gaining experience, she felt the need to grow her own garden. She needed to keep the most useful plants within easy reach - and also wanted to make experiments with flora that would not grow natively in the Mitgardian mountains. In a few years, she had managed to gather many medicinal plants from Mitgardia, and to acclimate a few ones from Avalonia. And her garden kept growing : there were still so many plants to learn about! __________________________ As with my previous builds, the spoiler section contains details about the featured flora. __________________________ Since many commenters seemed to enjoy the well, there is now a tutorial here in my flickr! Credits : the birch tree uses Katie Walker's leaves weaving technique.

This is the collaboration between @LittleJohn, @Aurore, @Basiliscus and myself. Our respective Flickr albums are below, so each of our entries can be teased apart for judging purposes, since this is one story with a combined (and one split) set of entries. @Aurore: https://www.flickr.com/photos/171544749@N03/albums/72157714434347186 @Basiliscus: https://www.flickr.com/photos/cuahchic/albums/72157714510756378 @Grover: https://www.flickr.com/photos/139107544@N04/albums/72157714519891132/with/49958080817/ @LittleJohn: https://www.flickr.com/photos/130093880@N02/albums/72157714511159513 ********** Varlyrio history recap An assassination attempt was made on the life of Bernaldo Conzaga. Since the employer of the assassin was unknown, the head of the Conzaga family, Staffen, sent most of his children away to different corners of Historica, each with their own bodyguard, to keep them safe from further possible assassination attempts. Mychel went to western Varlyrio; Gisela went to Prenmôr, Avalonia; Poppa went to Kaliphlin; the rest of the family remained in Varlyrio. Gisela accepted a position as the ambassador of the town of Prenmôr. Little is known of the whereabouts of Poppa and Mychel. Following the assassination attempt, Staffen realized that he needed to move up in the hierarchy of the Varylrian political establishment if he wanted his family to survive, so he conspired with the de Fiori and di Carlo families to try to remove the current Rego from power. Unbeknownst to the conspirators, the de Fiori family met with Rego Amancio, threatening him. Finally, Varlyrio had failed to answer the call of the Queen for elite troops to battle a threat to all Historica. The reason for this is unknown. ---------- The Downfall of the Rego Rego Suprano Amancio walked down the staircase of his home with his trusted consulente. He surveyed his home with all the trappings of wealth and power, showcasing the spoils of his family's shipping trade: marble and gold everywhere, Kolgari slaves, exotic plants from the far reaches of Historica, and expensive statues. He was concerned that all he had built was in jeopardy due to a growing sentiment in the populace that he was not effective in representing the interest of Varlyrio with the Queen of Historica (most notably in the recent failure of Varlyrio to send troops to the summons of the Queen). The stupidity of his nephew Malco and a failed assassination attempt compounded these problems and weighed on his mind. "The assassin failed to kill that wretch Bernaldo," he began. "Remind me to drown the one who hired the killer." His counselor nodded. The Rego's face was tight with anger. "It's not enough that a drunken son of a minor family managed to bed my nephew's wife while he slept in the next room, but the incompetent killer failed his task and now the Conzaga boy brags about his conquest to anyone who will listen. Even worse, someone in this house has loose lips and the Conzagas have discovered that our family is responsible for the attempt on Bernaldo's life. This lends veracity to the rumors spreading like wildfire around the country and makes us seem incompetent and foolish, especially after the success of the Queen against the Enlightened without Varlyrian troops." If the Rego was concerned that such a minor family knew of his machinations, he did not show it. "I would send another assassin, but it would only feed the conspiracy theory about our family." The consulente thought a moment as they ended their walk near the fountain in the center of the room. "I would advise that we do not acknowledge the rumors that are circulating," he said. "We may be able to start some rumors of our own about members of the Conzaga family. It has been reported that Staffen's daughter Gisela recently relocated to a poor fledgling community in Avalonia. It could be that she is fleeing some horrible crime or perhaps her family has some highly contagious disease. That would prove disastrous for their wine business and turn attention away from our family." The Rego nodded his assent. "Make it happen," he said. "I will be in my study." With that, he turned on his heel, his dark red cape spinning behind him, and he stormed past the Kolgari slaves on his way out of the room. ---------- Following the attempt on his brother's life, Mychel Conzaga had been sent away to western Varylrio with his bodyguard, Meiyo, and three members of the private Conzaga militia. As the family's lead vintner, Mychel was determined not to let his time away from the vines be unproductive, and so he dedicated himself to learning about the local horticulture on his way through the western lands of Varlyrio. Through his travels to the mountains, he was very happy, but west of the mountains the lands were arid and poor for growing much of anything. Meiyo watched as disappointment set in for Mychel as he looked at the barren landscape and he came to the realization that there would be little for him to learn. He pulled his hat lower to keep the sun off his face and eventually quit scanning the horizon for new vegetation. A few weeks later, Mychel's small caravan began to encounter a little more terrain than the flat, barren landscape he had been traveling through. To be sure, it was still a desert wasteland, but at least now there were a few rocks and ravines that broke up the flat nothing of before. As they pushed onward toward a huge dry riverbed, they walked through shallow gullies with steep washouts. Around a corner, Mychel immediately halted the caravan, causing Meiyo to start with surprise. Her hand went to her sword on her back and loosened it in its sheath. She was worried that she had missed an enemy, but then realized that Mychel had only stopped the caravan to examine an unusually colored bright blue bush and lavender leafed trees. Maybe in a different life she would have relaxed and let Mychel have his fun with a new plant, but not now. Her senses were on high alert after the assassination attempt on Bernaldo, and she scanned the area with her eagle eyes. She didn't see anything, but something wasn't quite right. They had been traveling for weeks with hardly a living plant in sight, and now, in the bottom of this washout, they had come across strange plants flourishing in the same inhospitable environment? No, there had to be someone taking care of these plants. She looked around, now worried to be at the bottom of a gully with the high ground all around her, still keeping her hand on her sword. "Look at these!" Mychel exclaimed as he grabbed a handful of the strange blue plant. "Amazing! And in this desert! If we could learn how this plant grows, we might be able to save our vines during severe drought." Mychel, lost in thought, didn't hear the slithering motion as a large purple naga slid up behind him. Meiyo, however, was not taken by surprise, drawing her sword and jumping between the naga and Mychel. Immediately, she noticed an armored large cat-man carrying a crossbow appear from a camouflaged position on top of the nearest hill. The rest of Mychel's caravan took up a defensive posture, protecting him. Mychel looked up in surprise and turned to face the naga. "I see you have found my garden," the naga said calmly. Meiyo eyed the naga closely: her four arms held a shovel, gardening shears and a bucket. Meiyo gauged that she could lop at least one of those arms off in the first attack to try and level the playing field somewhat, but was unsure of how to deal with the rest of her arms and her tail if it came to that. "We are sorry to have intruded on your personal garden," Mychel said, never one for being afraid. "It is very lovely. Tell me, how do you manage to keep these plants watered here? They are exquisite." He stepped forward, putting his hand on Meiyo's armored shoulder. Meiyo kept her sword in hand but allowed him to step to her side to see the naga better. The naga smiled. "I see you appreciate horticulture," she said. She slithered to the nearby tree and set down her gardening implements, then waved off her guard at the top of the hill, who retreated down to join her, holding his crossbow in a non-threatening manner. Meiyo still held her sword, but now in a non-threatening posture. Making sure to keep in a position where she could throw herself between Mychel and the naga, she moved with them as they walked. The naga gestured to a crude stone building cut in a rock, and another dark skinned somewhat elven looking figure clad in dark blue appeared. Meiyo stiffened, but this figure appeared to be unarmed and more timid than the naga. "This my friend Aiya who helps me tend the flowers," the naga explained. "We are from the Kolgari tribes, deep below the earth." Meiyo was a little surprised. She had never met a Kolgari before and had only heard rumors. Now she had met a naga and a Kolgari in the same day! Mychel, the naga, and Aiya talked excitedly for an hour about plants, boring the Conzaga militia and exhausting Meiyo, who was determined not to let her guard down. Satisfied that Mychel was not here on some mission to exterminate the Kolgari, and that he was indeed a skilled botanist, the naga and Aiya invited Mychel and his entourage to visit the Kolgari civilization and exchange cultivation ideas. Mychel, of course, was thrilled. The Conzaga militia were less so, and Meiyo was very dubious, thinking this would be a prime time for a kidnapping. However, she was sworn to protect Mychel and follow his lead, so they were going to have to go below the surface. She comforted herself with the notion of a resupply, since they were running low on food and particularly water, both of which the Kolgari offered. She conferred briefly with Gineto, the leader of the Conzaga militia that served as Mychel's guards, and asked him and his men to carefully mark and remember the way down into the Kolgari settlement in the case that they needed to make a hasty escape back to the surface. She similarly admonished the wagon driver to keep the horse ready for a quick trip out if needed. She then returned to Mychel and they bid their farewell to the naga, following Aiya around a number of corners and then into a cave cunningly hidden by some dead bushes and rocks. They were able to bring their horse only a short distance into the shallow cave before the passage became too narrow. The wagoneer unsaddled Mychel's horse, then led them to a small pool of water formed naturally in the wall of the cave, where the thirsty animal happily drank. Seeing that the wagoneer would stay with the horse, Aiya then led the group through the small fissure in the rear of the cave. Meiyo was on her guard, but she had to admit, it felt nice to get out of the sun and heat. The cool, damp air of the cave continued to feel cooler and more humid as they progressed down. Mychel commented on how nice the air felt on his sunburn. Aiya led them downward by lamplight for what seemed like most of the day, deep into the darkness, from one tunnel to another, until finally they reached a point where she extinguished the lamp. Meiyo's feathers stood on end, and then her eyes adjusted. What she saw before her was truly stunning. A vast, underground cavern opened before the tunnel lit with the soft glow of various plants. Mychel was beside himself, amazed at the glowing lichens and fungi. A whole underground city was here, more incredible than anyone could have imagined. This had to be the fabled sunken city of legend. Aiya led them down into the city. Tall white and gold structures could be seen in the center of the city, but it was surrounded by fields that appeared to be farms and orchards. There were plants of colors rarely seen on the surface: strange blues and purples, pinks and magentas. Mychel found the whole place fascinating. They met various of the subterranean elves on their walk into the fields of fungi, flowers, trees, and other strange plants none of them had ever seen before. After walking what seemed like a mile, Aiya stopped at a small house made from some sort of white rock. "This is my family's house. We are farmers," she said. After showing the entourage into her rather small house, she introduced Mychel to her family and led the group onto the back patio where they looked out over the fields of strange plants that trailed off into the black darkness beyond. "You are welcome to stay with us for the night," Aiya said, much to Meiyo's disappointment. Mychel, of course, was thrilled. "This is great!" Mychel said to Meiyo. "We can learn from the Kolgari the ways of underground growing and use this to great effect on our vineyards!" Mieyo pulled him aside. "We should be wary that we are not being set up for an ambush," she said bluntly. "Look around. Do you think they'd attack us now? They could have attacked us at any point in those dark tunnels and we would have been slaughtered. Now they're going to invite us into their home to attack? It doesn't make any sense, and besides, the Rego doesn't have any people down here!" Meiyo had to admit that his logic made sense. She shrugged. At least she wasn't going to get sunburnt down here. She talked to Gineto and the other guards. "We will sleep in shifts so one of us is always on guard. These elves seem all right, but there is much we do not know. Stay alert." Aiya came over to the group. "I can show you your rooms in our guest house out back. It might be a little tight for all of you, but hopefully you can manage." She led them to the guest house that her parents were preparing dinner. There were no shutters on the windows and everything was open air, presumably because there was no weather underground and the temperature was nearly constant. The temperature was a little chilly, but the climate was nice otherwise. After settling in, they were invited to dine with Aiya's family. The evening was pleasant, and the meal was surprisingly good for whatever the plants were. Meiyo had some sort of sweetish blue paste and had to admit it was quite tasty. Mychel, of course, could have no end to all the plant excitement, and seemed to get on quite well with Aiya. That night, Mychel came to Meiyo before they went to sleep. "Meiyo, this is where I need to be. I can learn how to make our vines better in drought, bring in some exotic flavors, understand how they can cultivate without sunlight... and this is the place. I expect to stay here for a couple of weeks at least." Meiyo was not particularly happy about this, but Staffen's instructions were to take the boy west and keep him safe from harm, not to take him to a specific destination. She was sure he had not intended to send the boy to the Sunken City, but that couldn't be helped right now. She agreed, and Mychel headed to bed. The next few days were interesting, learning of the surroundings and inhabitants. The Kolgari were fairly reserved, probably having never seen outsiders before, but were hospitable and pleasant. After a while, Meiyo had to admit that the Kolgari were not a threat, and although she never relaxed her guard, the time began to pass faster. The horse, which had been brought down through a different passage after Mychel had decided to stay, didn't care much for the underground environment, but it was otherwise pleasant. About two weeks into their stay underground, Mychel was out with Aiya tending to some weird light blue glowing plants when Meiyo felt her pocket getting warm. She looked down and pulled out the small stone that Staffen had given her as a means of magical communication. It was glowing. She showed Mychel the stone. "Your father sent a message." Mychel nodded, and Meiyo activated the stone. A shimmering blue version of Staffen's face appeared and it began to speak. "Mychel, I have found the person responsible for the assassination attempt on your brother's life. It was the Amancio family. Return home at once." Short and to the point. Typical Staffen. Mychel frowned. "This is not good," he said. "The Amancios are the most powerful family in Varlyrio. What can we do if they tried to kill Bernaldo?" Aiya looked at Mychel. "The Amancios have a terrible reputation here. They are known for having built their empire on the trade of Kolgari slaves. They keep Kolgari slaves as servants even still." "That's horrible. I am not surprised, but it is still horrible." He paused a moment in thought. "Who is the ruler here?" he asked. "His Majesty King Vizien," Aiya replied. "Why?" "I need to request an audience with the King," Mychel said with a sly look on his face. Aiya looked taken aback. "I don't know if that's possible," she started, "but we can go to the palace and see." "Let's go!" Mychel said enthusiastically. Meiyo looked surprised. Mychel explained. "If I can talk to the King and get support from the Kolgari, we might be able to build a force capable of overtaking the Amancios." Meiyo was surprised at the audacity of the plan, but had to admit that it had merit: no one on the surface would ever expect an attack from Kolgari troops. "It could work," she agreed. "If your father can get a coalition of troops from various families together with the Kolgari, the Amancios might be vulnerable." Mychel smiled. Aiya led them to the palace at the heart of the city, where they had to convince the guards to let them have an audience with the King. After some persuasion, the guards granted their request and stripped Meiyo and Mychel of all weapons. Meiyo was unhappy with leaving her weapons behind, but took solace in the fact that she still had a dagger hidden in her boot that every search seemed to miss. A royal herald ushered them into the palace to the throne room, while two guards followed behind. Mychel stood agape at the amazing throne room. Huge trees wound their roots downward around the throne, which was connected by a bridge to the main floor. Light came into the round room through windows that were an organically interwoven mixture of stone and plant life. Meiyo had never before seen such beauty. Mychel and Meiyo bowed before the King, who listened to Mychel's story of the assassination attempt and his pitch to depose the rule of the Amancios once and for all. The king thought silently for a moment, then spoke. "The Amancios are a cruel and ruthless family. They have enslaved the Kolgari and built their empire on the backs of our people. Alone our people do not have the logistics on the surface to face the ruling family, as they could unite all of the families against us. It is to our shame that we have not been able to help our people for decades. If what you say is true, however, and families plot to overthrow the Rego, then we will stand with you and help to free our people by ridding Varlyrio of the Amancios once and for all. I shall send a magical message to Staffen Conzaga telling him of our intent to provide troops in support of the overthrow of the Amancios and the freeing of our people." Meiyo felt a shiver run down her spine. This would be dangerous. She was going to have her work cut out protecting him. They left the throne room, headed back to Aiya's house. Mychel thanked Aiya and her family, promising to return once they had rid the surface of the reign of the Amancios. ---------- The following weeks were a blur. Mychel and his entourage sent magical word to Staffen, then quickly packed and left for home. The trip back was with purpose and made at speed. Upon arriving home, Mychel found the household swarming with activity. His sister Gisela, now some sort of local ambassador in Avalonia, had returned with some Avalonian troops and mercenaries, and Staffen had arranged with the de Fiori and di Carlo families to coordinate an assault on the Amancio troops. The Rego's failures in dealing with the Queen had brought about the cooperation of three families to depose him, while his enslavement of the Kolgari had ensured their participation. The Conzagas had a personal score to settle for the attempt on Bernaldo's life, and so had been chosen to lead the assault. His uncle Nestur was planning the attack, and Bernaldo was running about boasting of how many Amancios he was going to kill. Mychel listened to Nestur explain the trap: the coalition of forces would attack the Amancio troops while they were in the open away from the manor house. At the same time, a smaller group led by Mychel and Gisela would attack the manor house directly while it was less heavily defended. Mychel and Meiyo left to prepare for the assault. ---------- Nestur had stopped in a small copse waiting for his scouts to return. In the distance he heard hoof beats, and approaching was one of his scouts, a boy younger than Bernaldo, riding hard towards him. "Lord, we are only half a league away from the river, and I managed to approach without them noticing," the scout motioning behind him. Nestur nodded. That was good. The Rego's troops would not be expecting an attack so deep in the heart of Varlyrio. The scout continued, "It looks like most of the militia are there Lord, just as you said. Mainly pikemen and halberdiers." Again Nestur nodded. This was going better than he thought. He waved the scout back into the column and signaled for the men to start marching again. Meanwhile, near the river, the Rego's men started the day lazily. They were deep in Varlyrio and had no known enemies, and therefore had posted no sentries. Foraging parties headed out to catch game to break their nightly fast, and guards milled about aimlessly. Suddenly, approaching the river came a marching column of unidentified soldiers. Surprised, the foraging parties ran back across the bridge and raised the alarm. As the Conzaga militia marched into view, it still wasn't clear what their intentions were. Although startled from their early morning reverie, the Rego's soldiers assembled at the bridge. As their own halberdiers brought up the rear, the pikemen made an iron shield in their front. At the head stood the commander, an old veteran named Arturo that Nestur had known from the Ravaage wars. Beside him, ornately dressed, was the local tax official who took a coin from every traveler using this crossing. As Nestur's men formed up on the opposite bank, the official shouted out, "State your business in the name of the Rego!" At that, Arturo whispered in the official's ear, presumably recognising Nestur astride his horse. "I am Nestur of the house Conzaga, a loyal servant of Varlyrio," he said, producing a sneer from the official. "I come seeking justice for my nephew!" and Nestur pointed to Bernaldo. Really this was unnecessary. Atop a beautiful white stallion, clad in the best golden armour that money could buy, Bernaldo resembled something from a camp fire tale. There was no mistaking who Nestur meant, but for added effect Bernaldo waved his lance mockingly. "Your nephew seems perfectly capable of enacting his own justice," the official retorted, drawing a few laughs from the Rego's troops. Nestur turned to look, and Bernaldo's face was flush red. He hoped he would not do anything rash. He saw the boy dig his spurs in, lower his lance and charge across the bridge! The fool! Nestur thought. No sane man would charge into pikemen while mounted. Nestur's plan had been to whittle down the pikemen with the Conzaga crossbowmen, and use the Avalonian infantry, kindly brought back by Gisela courtesy of Lady Gwenllian, to do most of the close quarters fighting. It wouldn't do if Bernaldo was killed in the very battle where the Conzagas were enacting revenge for his attempted murder! Without any other choice, Nestur ordered a full out attack. The Conzaga crossbowmen shot accurately into the densely packed ranks of pikemen, and the halberdiers and Avalonians crossed the bridge to save Bernaldo. Nestur followed behind, keeping a commanding view of the carnage. As Bernaldo crossed the bridge, lance couched, he struck the militia commander in the neck, the force of the blow knocking his helmet off. Arturo had no chance, and was dead before he struck the ground. Nestur saw Bernaldo shimmy his horse deftly past two raised pikes and chased down the routing militia. With their commander killed so suddenly, many had thrown down their weapons and run for their lives. In the end it was more of a massacre than a battle, with the Rego's demoralised soldiers offering little resistance. The elite pikemen gave a good account of themselves, but isolated and leaderless, they quickly offered surrender rather than die pointlessly. In the end, the dejected prisoners were rounded up and accepted their fate. Bernaldo returned from rounding up the enemy stragglers, a huge grin on his face. "Did you see that uncle! They'll fear us now!", Bernaldo exclaimed, pleased with his performance. "Yes nephew, you did well.", Nestur said calmly. Inside he was angry that Bernaldo's recklessness almost got himself killed, but in the end, the result spoke for itself. The tax official had lost his tongue, and Bernaldo brandished his sword at him, mocking his defeat. Nestur pulled him away to look at the dead. These were ordinary men, who had little agency in the power plays of their masters. Meanwhile, the Conzaga troops raided the enemy stores - there would be a feast tonight. The Conzagas had won this battle, but as Nestur surveyed the battlefield from the balcony of one the houses, he hoped that the second phase of the plan would go as smoothly. ---------- Mychel, Meiyo, Gisela, and her bodyguard Mohatu had all prepared the night before and barely slept. They had waited in a neighboring warehouse until first light, then led their troops to fiercely assault the Amancio manor. The defenders put up quite a fight, but only a skeleton crew had been left to guard the manor house. Within an hour, the Conzaga, de Fiori, and di Carlo families supported by Kolgari troops had taken the manor. Inside, the Rego was protected only by his last two bodyguards. His manor house was half burnt, with broken marble and gold everywhere. The normally impeccable Rego had lost his cape and his hair was tousled from the fighting. Mychel, Gisela, and their bodyguards confronted the Rego. He was surrounded, out of options. "Surrender!" Mychel cried. Seeing his predicament, the Rego pulled a magical green gem out of his pocket. Years ago, he had a wizard enchant it as a last resort for a situation like this. He crushed it in his hand. "You have not seen the last of me!" he shouted as the room began to shake. A huge earth elemental appeared from the floor, throwing pieces of dirt and tile everywhere. It grabbed the Rego and disappeared with him through the floor, carrying him away underground for his escape. The wily Rego had saved one ace up his sleeve! Seeing their master flee, his bodyguards dropped their swords and surrendered. The coalition had won the day, and they bound the surrendered troops and led them off the property. The Kolgari troops freed their enslaved kin, welcoming them back. Of course, the Varlyrian families sacked the house for valuables. Mychel and Gisela were left standing in the ruined foyer of the mansion in front of the broken fountain as looting and chaos reigned around them. "We are entering a new era, brother," Gisela commented, looking about at the once grand seat of power of Varlyrio. "Indeed, Ambassador," Mychel smiled. "The rule of the Amancio family has come to an end!"

It has been three days since we were run off the road into the Wither Woods. I can see why our Rego was apprehensive on getting involved on the continent. What should have been a simple trip to the Avalonian capital has turned into a slaughter in the dark inside these woods. Death lurks in these trees. My contingent of solders has all but vanished and I know it is not cowardice or desertion. I fear if I fall asleep, I may never wake, but I have not slept since we were attacked on that first night; I can fight it back no longer. We’ve situated camp on this crag over a stream; we will be safe on two sides, at least. Hirbod has the first watch. May his eyes, and ears, not fail us tonight. -Sicuro Off-Course in the Wither Woods After weeks of no word from Sicuro or the contingent of men he led to Avalonia, rumor made its way to the Rego of Varlyrio. This whisper was enough to convince his minster of War and himself that isolation from the continent was prudent. Varlyrio would not send troops to the Battle of Historica. ------------------- This is my entry into the Guilds of Historica Book III Challenge V: Category A (which takes place in Book II). This lost diary entry explains what happened to the contingent of troops sent by the Rego of Varlyrio. Their disappearance solidifies his view that Varlyrio should stay out of the distant war. A bonus image of the MOC can be seen below. It features full lighting and and an aerial view. Aerial View I’m also submitting this MOC for review in the University of Petraeas Doctorate of Historica Program under the following two categories: Landscape Design → trees #1 Geography → forests The coniferous trees follow Katie Walker’s design while the odd-angled branched ones are based on Legopard’s Design. I found both by following this Brickbuilt Tutorial. Website | Flickr | YouTube

The guilds once more defeated evil, even without help from the Rego. But what happened really then? To learn the secret, we must travel back in time. [flashback music] It was late afternoon in Illaryian. A flock of birds just lifted off from the roofs. Something scared them, someone was crying like an animal in anger. - THAT IMECIL! - the shout came from an ornate building. It was the Rego's office, something really upset him. - I asked him for a simple request. And he screwed it... I will blow up! - cursed the Rego. His headache started to return. The enchanted potion prevented him to talk about the queen's plan, and also caused a mild headache even the thought about it. It must be a side effect. He stormed in the hall, and he made his way to his office. - Gather some of the finest warriors and send them to the continent immediately! When the queen spoke about her plan, Amancio immediately sends a letter, to his nephew, to collect some man, and go to the exact location, where the other guilds send their troops. But after he arrived back to the island, he learned, about his nephew's incompetence. He collected some warriors, but without proper leadership, they disbanded, no money, no troops, a complete disaster. - But Sire... - disagreed the advisor with his superior, as he followed him to the Rego's personal office. - The other families will not only want to know why are we sending troops to the continent. Without any reason, they won't help us if we lucky only. Or else they will rebel against us. The guard saluted, then he opened the office's door, to let them in. The three of them entered the room, the candles were already lighted. The small room was filled with the smell of old, moldy cheese. The servant who lited the candles should at least open a window. Amancio put his hat down on the table, next to an opened bottle of Amber Cider. The carbonation of the drink was long gone, next to it, the letter from the queen. He rubbed his forehead, what a terrible headache... He would gladly share all the information, what he heard in the meeting, but the enchanted water tied his tongue and mind to speak, even thinking about the hidden enemy, and the queen's plan to deal with them. And the advisor's reasoning didn't ease the pain. - Advisor... - he started but the headache interrupted his effort, to tell the truth. - As your Rego, you must trust my decision. - paused for the moment to collect his thoughts. - This is our only chance, to show the rest of the guilds, we are trustworthy. Thanks to Basil's treachery, who offered his loyalty to Raavage. - I know Sire. But not every family agrees with your decision, to open to the other guilds and queen on the continent. - tried reasoning the advisor with Amancio. - I would advise you, to solve this problem, in a different approach. - Like? - the lack of patience was missing in Amancio's tone. He sat down to his decorated desk and put the plate of cheese away. - Li-li-like... - stutter the advisor, as hi tried to collect his thoughts... - Like send money, or supplies to aid the others. - he had to stop, cause the Rego's face turned even darker. - Or send other troops, like...mercenaries! - Fine! - said Amancio, and reached out to the tools to write. - Which mercenary band should we send? - Maybe not from Varlyrio. We could send a letter to hire mercenaries from the continent. I advise the Avalonian Wolf Brigade. - Great, we thrust our honor in a sellsword hand. There goes Valyrios honor...- Grumbled the Rego, but he already started the letter, he was tired to argue anymore. The room was filled with silence and the smell of moldy cheese. Only the pen's scratching on the paper could be heard, as Amancio wrote his letter to Conrad - Wait... Sire! - interrupted his letter the advisor. - let's send one of your nephews, as the leader. Great... another nuisance. Sending one of his toff nephews in a, mostly suicide mission... The Rego changed the subject and continued the writing, but instead of Conrad, he addressed to his nephew. He only needs to represent the guild in this mission. As he finished, he closed the letter and sealed. What a relief. - Advisor! - his servant stepped closer, ready to obey his next task. - Here is this letter. Make sure, this will reach my nephew in no time. This task is important, so do not waste time. Find him tonight! - the last word made the advisor pale. - P-p-personally? But Sire... I-i...- No excuses! - said Rego as he gives the letter to his advisor, and approached the exit. The guard stood aside, and the Rego left the room. - But I don't know where to start... - stood there the amazed advisor. He tried to find a way to solve his problem. He didn't had time to visit every tavern, pub, and brothel in the city. Or on the island? Think-think-think. Then a solution came. -Sire. - the guard stepped next to the advisor. - I know where will be the Rego's nephew tonight. My shift will end soon, and I can meet him there, and give him the letter. - and pointed on the piece of paper in the advisor's shaky hand. - What a good idea! Here take it. - and he handed the letter to the guard. But before he released it: - Personally! - As you wish! - said the guard, and took the letter from the advisor, and watched as he left the room, hastily as Rego. - As you wish... - repeated the guard, and closed the office's door. He waked to the Rego's desk and took the candle. Then he burned the letter. - Hail de Fioris - whispered, while he dropped the burning letter and watched till the flames burned out, then he swiped the ash under the desk. After his dirty deeds were done, he left the office.

Last weekend, my husband challenged me to create something that would make me happy, and that I would actually finish by sunday evening. I decided to go on with Age of Mitgardia, and here is the result! __________________ Spring had come in Mitgardia. The snow had already melt in the southern foothills of the Heavenly Mountains, and the deep forests around Horgaard were slowly waking up after the harsh winter. Sigrid usually woke up early at this time of year, and enjoyed going on a ride around the village. She listened to the birds, observed the vegetation, and sometimes stopped just to pick something interesting. This morning, she had noticed the bright breen, tender tips that were blossoming on the fir trees. Perfect to make cough syrup....or some flavoured beer. __________________ As usual, more info on the featured flora and fauna below. My herbalist sigfig could soon create a "Natural History of Mitgardia" encyclopedia...

Introduction : Sigrid's journal "We were called to a meeting with the other village leaders yesterday. Jarl Elisif wanted us all to know about the victory at the Enchanted Forest. Of course, the word had already spread, and everyone was already talking about how Jarl Thimolir's bear cavalry saved the day. After months of tensions, even the most ardent sceptics now seem to veer to the side of the Queen. And that's great news. Instead of worrying about a possible war, we can now hope for peace. Instead of focusing on arming and training our people, I can now step back and also plan for the long term. It's time to rebuild Horgaard." In order to assist my sigfig's efforts to rebuild her village, I'm going to build a mead hall. And given that this is the first time I'll build such a MOC, I expect a lot of thinking, a lot of trial and error, and a lot of time. During the months by the housewarming hallwarming party, here is the thread where I'll track the progress of the construction and all the thinking behind. History Chapter 1. What could it look like? Chapter 2. Of roofs and doors Chapter 3. Woodworking Chapter 4. Construction delays Current state

Previously: Chapter 10. Don't look back Chapter 11. Wash away The sun had long set behind the mountains, so we rode by the dim silvery light cast by the full moon. Shadows formed between the branches and trunks, and made my mind see images that I could only hope were not there. We left the road and entered the woods, only to trust the moon and the stars and the echoes and the cries to guide our paths. Hours had passed and the horses kept their slow pace, careful not to trick or fall on the stones and broken branches hidden in the dark. The forest once coated with white snow gave way to dripping icicles hanging from the trees and slippery pools formed under their trunks. Lifeless leaves held ponds of ice that fell to the ground as we passed, melting in the dirt. Slow and steady. The earthy smell of grass and moss grew stronger as the sound of a flowing river grew louder. We are heading south. Dazed with the throttle and lost in the whistling sound of the wind and tinkling of our coins, I only came to my senses when a shout echoed between the trees. - Hold on, boys. – Hob had walked to the shore and stood next to the frigid green waters of the river, staring at the water. What is he looking at? It started with one splash. Tap. Then another. Tap. And then another. Tap, tap, tap. Soon, the whole pond was splashing with falling waterdrops, poking our heads from the sky, and wetting our cloaks on their way to the ground. A light tapping sound suddenly became a thunderous ovation among the trees. And then, the sky sunk on our heads. A huge lighting crossed the clouds and suddenly it was day again, but only for a second. The light was followed by a deafening roar that made my chest tremble and the trees shake off their dead leaves. A forewarning. Hob opened his arms, leaned his head facing the sky, so that the raindrops would hit him in the face. And he laughed. He laughed louder than the roars of the rain. Louder than the waterflows of the creaks. Louder than the blowing wind and crackling of leaves. - Freyr! We thank you for your kindness! We thank you for your gift! Soon we shall dine and drink in Odin’s Hall! – Hob shouted at the grey skies, saluted the gods and laughed, laughed, laughed. - It seems the god of rain wishes to take our lives, brother. – Shouted the man with a fuzzy hair. - No, my friend! Freyr is on our side. And he just made sure no one is to follow us here. – Hob stared at the trail behind us, where once were the markings of our footprints, now washed away and faded among the dirt. Hob laughed again. Only this time, he was not laughing alone. ________ Louis of Nutwood This is an entry for Age of Mitgardia: Stables - Phase I. It is also a little break from such cold and snowy environments. So we are heading to warmer lands in the south for a little bit. For the first time I adventured myself in using this fully SNOT technique for the tan rocks (which I think looks super cool!) and transparent studs as ice and rain (that I'm not that sure about). I hope you like this chapter. Please, let me know what you think. Skål! ________

Book 3 Challenge 4 A A build for the queen. Fair warning: This is a long, picture heavy thread. By the request of @Exetrius, I have made the nominal picture size smaller for those of you who don't have automatically resizing browsers, so I hope this helps. Click on each of the pictures to see it full sized. This is particularly useful with the panoramic shots. Late one night, Queen Ylspeth stood on the balcony of the tallest tower of her keep, looking out over Cedrica. The reports she had received were troubling. The rumors that had been circulating for months appeared to have some merit, and even worse, they were connected. Historica was going to be torn apart and would descend again into chaos unless she acted, but who could she trust? She had pored over the lists of guild representatives and thought back to those that helped her win a united victory over Lord Raavage and the Black Spire. She had written messages, carefully selecting the most trustworthy representatives she knew from each guild (with the exception of Varlyrio, where she had invited Rego Amancio by default, not having much diplomatic relations with any of the leaders there), requesting their presence for a secret meeting in her private council chambers in a fortnight. Now she waited, hoping she had placed her trust in the right people. ---------- A fortnight later, the guild representatives had arrived, conveyed secretly through Cedrica and into the castle by covered carriages, covert paths and back doors. They met in the queen's private council chambers, a secluded room beneath the keep reserved for the most sensitive of conversations. The queen stood near the table as the representatives took their seats, and a solitary figure in a black hooded cloak sat next to her. Queen Ylspeth surveyed the representatives: Rego Amancio for Varlyrio, King DeGothia from Avalonia, Sir Glorfindel of Mitgardia, Lord Gideon of Kaliphlin (the first to arrive), and finally Lord Vladivus of Nocturnus. "What is the meaning of this summons, and why have we been smuggled in here like common thieves?" demanded Rego Amancio, banging his fist on the table. The other representatives looked at one another and the Rego, perhaps a little surprised at his boldness with the queen. Queen Ylspeth took the question in stride, not betraying her thoughts on her face. "You would be wise to remember your place, my good Rego," she began. "I am not one of your family's adversaries. I am your queen, and I do not summon my subjects lightly or without reason." She took a few strides, letting her gilded chainmail jingle and show under her robes, positioning herself between the Rego and the door, subtly letting him know that she was not afraid of his threats. He visibly calmed, gaining a bit of respect for a queen he realized he might have underestimated. The queen balled her hands into fists and leaned on the table, looking at each of the guild representatives in turn. "Thank you all for coming here tonight at my summons. As you are aware, I value the freedom of the guilds and allow each guild a great deal of latitude when it comes to their own affairs. Particularly during this time of rebuilding after all of the civil wars, I found it most important to allow the guilds to police themselves. There is much left to do in each of our guilds, but I would not have called you together in such secrecy without great need." Queen Ylspeth stood up straight, removing her hands from the table. "We have in our realms a shadowed enemy who works even now against each of us, trying to turn us against one another." She paused to let this sink in. "We have all heard the recent rumors about demons, secret alliances, spies, lizard people disguising themselves in human skin, enormous animals tainted by magic, our ancient enemies of the drow and even Revolword himself returning. I was skeptical of these rumors until reports began piling up. Before calling everyone here tonight, I had to find the truth of these rumors, and have had to spend considerable time and resources gathering evidence. I have learned that these rumors have some basis in fact at their core, and we must band together or Historica will be torn apart and we shall perish. The utmost secrecy was required because this enemy is like a spider with its web everywhere, and I could only count on my most trusted allies." "What is this enemy you speak of, your majesty?" asked King DeGothia. "There is a band of renegade elves working to take over Historica and enslave its inhabitants," she replied. Queen Ylspeth held up her hand to stymie the murmur of disbelief spreading through her audience. "I understand it seems far-fetched. I had a hard time believing it myself, but these are no ordinary elves. Magic has wrenched apart their souls and has consumed and emaciated their bodies. They know no pleasure except in accumulating more power. Gathering this information has taken longer than I would have liked and claimed the lives of several good patriots, but here is the history as I understand it." "Almost a thousand years ago, a small group of young elves broke away from their clan in the Isles of Avalonia. These adolescents had known nothing but prosperity, and their parents had afforded them everything they could wish for. They had grown weary of their lives of luxury and sought something more, something exciting. Their leader, the wily Dion, had studied the arcane arts, and led her friends deep into the Enchanted Forest. Not before stealing many of the most advanced and dangerous spell tomes from the elven library where she studied, however." "At first, the young elves laughed and played. Dion used her summoning spells to produce food and drink, and conjured servants to attend them. Her original intent was not clear; it may have been that she only wanted freedom from authority, but we will never know. What we do know is that Dion began to summon more and more dangerous creatures, and some of the young elves became afraid. They returned home to their shame, which is how we know any of this story at all. The elven elders became concerned that Dion was not just having fun, but rather up to something sinister. They sent a small envoy to meet with her and surreptitiously inspect the keep in which she had set up residence." "When they arrived, they found that she had summoned demons and had been experimenting with powerful evil sorcery. They reported back to the elders who decided to put an end to this work. They sent a group of powerful mages and soldiers to stop the evil magic and arrest Dion and her followers. When they arrived, they found Dion had forseen their approach and a disastrous magical battle ensued. The old keep that Dion and her followers had been using was destroyed. No trace of Dion or her followers could be found, and, after cleaning up the remaining summoned demons, the elven force returned to the elders, declaring them dead." "Exactly what happened in the intervening centuries is unknown, but Dion and her followers had survived. However they had survived the blast, they had regrouped and rebuilt in the catacombs under the ruins of the elven keep where the battle took place. It appears that they have been plotting, patiently and slowly working to enslave all Historica under their control." "Your Majesty, may I ask how you have come by this information?" Lord Vladivus asked quietly. The queen nodded. "Unusually large creatures, called dire animals, were found in Avalonia. These were investigated by a local wizard and traced to their source, a ruins deep in the Enchanted Forest. The wizard, from a concealed position, observed unusual looking elves dumping magical waste into the local streams. This magical pollution led to the creation of the dire animals who drank from the contaminated water supply." "So you've been selling us food that has been tainted with contaminants?!" the Rego asked King deGothia, who glared back at him. "Unless you've been eating giant fowl or enormous ears of corn, no," the Queen cut in. "There will be time to discuss the effects and what is to be done later." The Rego settled down again and the queen continued. "The wizard realized he was in a dangerous situation and wisely returned to the local lord, who hired a skilled operative to discover more information." Queen Ylspeth turned to the short individual clad in black standing to her side. "Our infiltrator Silas scouted the ruins, inside and out. I will let him explain." The spy stepped forward to address the assembled lords, bowing slightly to the queen as he went. "I am here to witness to you what I observed while scouting the ruins." Sir Glorfindel held a hand to briefly stay the man and ask a question. "Are these the ruins of the original tower that the elves inhabited hundreds of years ago?" Queen Ylspeth nodded. "We believe so, yes." "Please, continue," Sir Glorfindel admonished the spy. "Wait," Queen Ylspeth commanded. She turned to Lord Gideon. "Did you bring the potion I asked for?" Lord Gideon rose and produced a bright yellow-green potion in a glass flask. "Yes, your majesty. I have brought the truth potion you have requested." He handed it to her. The queen turned and handed the potion to Silas. He took it from her and looked rather upset. "This was not part of the agreement, your majesty!" he said quietly. The queen looked at him sternly, and addressed him openly for the whole room to hear. "I do not like such magical coercement, but the situation requires that this story be told in full and without question of its authenticity. No one in this room is to ask you of any of your prior activities or secrets while under the influence of this potion. Is that clear?" she asked the room. The lords gave their assent. Seeing he had little choice, the spy sighed and drank the potion. A moment later, he looked at the queen, who nodded. Silas began: "I scouted the ruins around the outside at first. I approached the ruins early in the morning and carefully picked my way around, wary of traps. Moss and vines covered the ruins, and had I not seen occasional comings and goings of these elves, I would have thought the place abandoned." "However, the few elves I had seen had emerged from the chasm near the back of the structure. After observing from a hidden position, I found that there was a concealed entrance behind some ivy leading to the catacombs beneath the ruins. This chasm has a small stream that runs at the base, concealing footprints and movement of people in and out. I waited until all was clear, then snuck in. There is a magical trap near the doorway, and it requires a command word that I overheard the elves repeating. Beyond the doorway, the catacombs are immense under the structure, containing many winding corridors and many rooms. Some have been caved in from above or ravaged by fire, but the farther in you go, the less the rooms are damaged." "There are a number of magical workshops and libraries where they are conducting experiments on animals, humans, dwarves, elves, and a host of other creatures I didn't recognize. I don't understand much in the way of magical writings, but the mundane writing next to the magical texts spoke of experiments meant to bring about a race of super warriors, longevity, and construction of magical items. I helped myself to a few gems and precious stones for my troubles." He clenched his fist and grimaced at the effects of the truth potion. The queen raised her eyebrows and smirked, but otherwise remained silent. Silas continued. "Most of the way through the ruins is a vast cavernous room with an opening in the ceiling to let in light. A pool sits in the center of the floor and beyond it a raised dais. The room just beyond this dais is the main workshop. It contained all manner of magical experiments, a small library of tomes, and on a large desk a collection of journals, each labeled with one of the guilds: Mitgardia, Avalonia, Varlyrio, Nocturnus, and Kaliphlin. Each one contains detailed notes on progress of their schemes meant to undermine the authority of the crown: uprisings in Mitgardia, support for Lord Raavage and the Black Spire years ago in Nocturnus, the disappearance of Artorious Rex of Avalonia, unusual undead activity in Kaliphlin, the appearance of demons from a nether realm in Varlyrio... the web of deceit and plans was complex and vast. I was shocked, and I have seen quite a bit of treachery in my line of work." He quickly shut his mouth, about to say more, but choosing silence over blurting out more truths he did not want to speak. "Most disturbing was that in all, there were notes on a magical superweapon designed to wipe out entire castles at once. This was mentioned in all of the guilds' journals, tied in to the elemental powers that Revolword had tapped into. Despite the elemental helm being lost to another dimension, the elemental forces remain, and this group of elves was constructing a new device to harness these powers into a weapon. The details of the weapon seem to have been written in a magical language in another tome, but the mundane writing described that each use requires a soul, and that each of the guilds houses an elemental power necessary to construct it. It also seems that the weapon is nearly finished, if not already so." "The last pages of the journal implied that an army was being raised by these elves to attack all of the guilds, with the aid of the super weapon, while each of us was fighting amongst ourselves due to the rumors, lies, and hostilities that these elves had been sowing for years. " "The more I read, the more dangerous I realized the situation was, and I had to return with this intelligence. I retraced my steps back out, but was held up about halfway back: an interdimensional portal opened and a large group of evil creatures came through. I ducked into a room and pulled the door to. Through the small crack at the edge of the door, I watched as a whole host of skeletons and demons paraded by. They were followed by strange, emaciated elves. Their leader is an elf with black hair who has magically modified herself, or maybe mutated, having given herself antennae. They seem to have some sensory power, as they looked at me when she passed. I remained frozen and she passed by without incident, but it was unnerving to say the least. I estimated around a dozen of the elves, maybe 20 undead skeletons, and another dozen or so demon creatures of various types, including some with the capacity for flight. After that, I high tailed it out of there, and reported my findings." When Silas finished, the guild representatives gave one another worried looks. King deGothia was the first to speak. "This news comes as a surprise to us all I think," he glanced around the table to affirming looks, "but it also comes at a bad time when we are all rebuilding. How are we to raise an army to fight this foe?" Sir Glorfindel agreed. "Mitgardia is dealing with its own rebellion internally right now. We cannot commit large numbers of troops to a battle against this enemy." "Raising an army from Nocturnus will prove almost impossible," Lord Vladivus chimed in. "The destruction there is worse than the other guilds, and loyalties are still fractured." "Kaliphlin is still dealing with the Desert King and the undead apparently raised by these elves," Lord Gideon added. "Varlyrio is starting to see these demons," Rego Amancio stated. "Has anyone reached out to these elves and tried to bargain with them? They may be interested in reaching a deal." The queen shook her head. "We have not discussed anything with the elves. Indeed, they do not even know that we are aware of their existence. I thought that it was wise to retain the element of surprise, and besides, a small group of individuals raising an army against the state, sowing the seeds of rebellion, and developing a super weapon capable of destroying an entire castle... that is quite clearly treason, is it not? Those are not the actions of a group interested in bargaining." "What do you propose we do, your majesty?" asked Lord Vladivus in his calm, quiet manner. "It is clear that the Guilds of Historica are not at full capacity and to face a foe of this magnitude on an open battlefield would likely end in defeat," the queen began. "The only way that I can see for us to prevail is to strike with the element of surprise. We will need a small force of diverse talents to enter the ruins and eliminate these elves and their minions before they are able to gate an entire army into our world, or worse, use their superweapon." "The force would need to be stealthy," Lord Vladivus began. "And have formidable warriors to combat demons," Sir Glorfindel added. "These elves are magic users. We will require some mages as well," Lord Gideon spoke up. The lords at the table continued their discussion of the force amongst themselves for a few minutes. Then the queen spoke. "I ask that each of you return home, choose five of your best, plus one commander, and send them in a fortnight to the Golden Goblet tavern in Belynia, Avalonia, on the eastern edge of the Enchanted Forest. Silas will meet them there and lead them to the ruins." The lords discussed the proposal briefly and assented. The queen then spoke again. "Before we leave, there is the utmost need of secrecy. You cannot tell even your champions why they are going into battle. I have here a bottle of water that has been enspelled to prevent anyone who drinks from it of speaking of the subject that is uttered before it is complete. I propose a toast," she said, pouring water into everyone's goblet. After everyone had their goblets filled, she lifted her glass. The lords did the same, even Rego Amancio. "May we not speak of the conversations that we have had here tonight with anyone else until after the task is completed." She drank from her goblet, as did all the lords and Silas. "Thanks to you all, and may Historica prevail!" the queen entoned. The lords, now finished with dinner, took their leave, and the queen and Silas stood for a moment in silence. Then the large panel with the sigil of Historica on the far wall opened, and out came a dark skinned, blue-haired elf from the under regions of Varlyrio. "My queen," the elf curtsied. "The Kolgari are in support of the crown, your majesty. I appreciate your allowing me to remain hidden in front of the Rego." Queen Ylspeth shook her head. "It is against my better judgment to keep secrets from my subjects, but if some of the rumors of the Rego's ambitions are true, then we should be wary. With any luck, the Rego will send troops and then we shall have two contingents from Varlyrio." "We shall send our champions, your majesty," the elf replied. The queen then poured her water from the same bottle and made another toast. "May we not speak of the subjects spoken of tonight until the task is complete." The Kolgari drank with the queen. ---------- Two weeks later, the troops began filtering into the Golden Goblet. Silas gathered them in the private banquet room to keep them out of sight. The Avalonians, Kaliphlinians, and Nocturnians had already arrived, but only quiet conversations and a few drinks were had. As the hour grew late, everyone began to wonder where the Varlyrians and Mitgardians were. But then, several hooded, cloaked figures entered the room. Throwing back their cloaks and hoods, they revealed themselves to be Kolgari elves, from beneath the surface of Varlyrio. "I see our Varlyrian friends the Kolgari have sent us support," Silas said. Murmuring broke out amongst the other troops. Many had heard of the Kolgari but few had ever seen them. They were stunning to behold in their golden armor. The Kolgari commander held a fist to his chest and bowed. "The Kolgari are at the service of the crown," he said. A moment of silence followed, then the Avalonian commander stepped forward and extended his hand. The Kolgari commander took it, and a cheer went up. The troops then began to greet one another and were soon talking like old friends. A round of drinks later, however, it became clear that the Kolgari would be the last to arrive. Mitgardia and the above ground inhabitants of Varlyrio had not sent troops. With this realization, Silas rounded up the troops, paid the bar tab, and led them off into the darkness of the night. The darkness grew even deeper as they entered the enchanted forest. ---------- Two days journey in, the pace became slower as they drew closer. The troops were on high alert and traveled quietly as they stole their way around brambles and loose rocks. Finally, on the evening of the third day, they arrived at the ruins, crawling slowly in the underbrush on the nearby hill to gain a vantage. Silas pointed out the location of the secret door. They waited until nightfall, and saw no activity. Quietly, Silas led the group down into the chasm, said the magic password, and led the group into the catacombs. The group went room to room, seeing little activity, but seeing exactly what Silas had told the guild leaders about: laboratories and animal experiments. Silas continued down the hallway, motioning the others to follow, stopping just before the large room with the pool that Silas had described to the guild representatives. The group peered through the doorway and saw a long, high ceilinged room with light filtering in from a hole above, shining down onto what might have been an ancient elven room of worship. Some of the decorations had fallen and the raised dais on the far side of the pool was broken, but much of the original stonework remained. The light reflected off the water of the pool onto the walls, which were overgrown with ivy and moss in one corner. Unlike the ruined rooms and hallways of the catacombs they had seen, this large room had a strange, unearthly quality to it, and might have been a beautiful place to visit in better times. Silas paused at this room to listen and observe. The other three entrances to this room, one on the dais itself, and the other two on opposite walls, were dark and evidenced no movement. Only the quiet splash of water from the fountain located along one edge of the pool could be heard. "Let us make our way along the wall to the door on the northern side," Silas whispered. He led the troops along the wall to the left, picking his way carefully uneven and broken stone floor. As he peered around the doorway, a demoness stepped out from the darkness into the light. "What have we here?" the demoness asked in a loud voice. Silas sprang forward to attack and silence her as quickly as possible, but she moved with supernatural speed and knocked him to the ground. The troops quickly spread out to surround her, and as they did so, more demons appeared behind them from the hallway they had just exited. They moved to back to the other doorways, but elves and demons poured forth from these as well. The troops kept backing up until they found themselves standing in the pool, surrounded. A tall, emaciated elf dressed in black trimmed in light green, with black hair and strange antennae protruding from her head, stepped forward onto the dais, flanked by two hooded acolytes. She carried a wooden staff from the top of which glowed a magical all-seeing eye that darted this way and that at the troops. "Welcome to our home, feeble guild members," the black-clad elf said. "I am Dion, the leader of the Enlightened." She paused, then smiled a crooked smile and laughed as she looked at them. "Did you think that you would surprise me? My all-seeing eye detected you leagues away from here." She basked in the disappointment written on the troops' faces as they realized they had walked into a trap. "We are not unkind, even to those that would assault us in our home. If you lay down your arms now, we will show you mercy and you may live out your days as our servants. If, however, you choose to fight, you will be killed without mercy, and those of you who survive will have your souls removed to power our elemental weapon." As she spoke, human troops filed in, followed by skeletons, trolls, and orcs, some riding wargs. Worse still, ghosts appeared, and even three powerful trolls. The guild troops looked to one another, knowing that they were doomed; they were outnumbered and overmatched. The leader of the Avalonian troops stood up tall and rallied the courage of all the allied guild troops. "Are you going to fight or try to bore us to death with talk?" he asked in a loud voice before dropping his visor with a loud *clank* and raising his sword. The guild troops cheered, raising their weapons and preparing for battle. Dion frowned and raised her staff. A loud cry went up from the evil forces, and they charged. Battle had been joined. The mindless skeleton forces marched in first, doing little damage against the seasoned veterans, but distracting them while the evil elves rained down magical fire, ice, and lightning on the allied troops. Not to be outdone, the allied mages fired back with magic of their own, though most of their efforts were absorbed by the ground troops that the elves were using as fodder. With several allied troops now down, the next wave of the evil army hit, this time real troops supported by orcs and wargs. Flying demons dive bombed the allied troops all the while. More allied troops fell, and fewer of the evil army this time. The ranks of the allied guilds shrunk and the group in the pool became smaller. The next wave hit, this time consisting of the demons, the ghosts and the powerful trolls. The troops from Nocturnus, mostly intact to this point due to their undead nature, took heavy damage now from these magical attackers. The Enlightened began to draw nearer. The last few allied guild troops tightened their circle once more and were surrounded by the evil army. "Goodbye, worthless guilds," Dion said, before raising her staff and firing a lightning bolt at the group, striking down the Kaliphlini mage. The evil army began to advance for the final onslaught as the allied troops braced to receive the charge. As the monstrous army advanced and all seemed lost, a horn sounded, loud and low, echoing off the stone hallways. The demons and elves facing the dais turned around just in time to see a ferocious sight coming from the tunnel: a charge of bear cavalry. The Mitgardians had arrived. The legendary dwarven bear cavalry of Mitgardia plowed into the lines of the evil army. Their charge had not been resisted in over four hundred years, and today was no exception. The massive bears with berserker dwarves flowed over the demons and elves like hot lava on a meadow, tearing apart their ranks as they came. "Sorry we're late!" yelled one of the dwarves as they followed their screaming leader, Jarl Thimolir on the back of his massive polar bear into the fray. The allied guild troops, rallied by the late support, cheered and pressed hard against the enemy line. "First one to her head has a free keg!" yelled Jarl Thimolir as the bears plowed around the pool and up onto the dais. Dion, seeing that her lines were broken and thrown into chaos, desperately threw fire at an advancing bear only to have her head cleaved from her shoulders by the axe of another. The lines of both sides were now mixed, and chaos reigned. The allied troops, bolstered by the insane charge of the dwarven bear cavalry, began to cut down the evil army one by one. Multiple magic users ganged up on the trolls as the dwarves pounded them with their hammers. The ghosts were cut with magical blades of the Kolgari and dissipated into nothing. As the evil army began to be outnumbered, the troops began to flee, and were chased down by the bears. Finally, the last of the demons and Enlightened were vanquished, and the remaining allied guild troops gathered together, congratulating one another and cheering on the Mitgardian bear cavalry. "Not so easy to get a bunch of armed dwarves riding bears through elven lands in Avalonia when you can't explain what you're doing there," Jarl Thimolir said as the battle died down. "Glad you made it," said the Kolgari leader, grasping his hand in a shake. "How did you find us?" "After we reached the tavern and everyone was gone, our bears picked up your scent and we tracked you here. We came down, heard the commotion, and followed it to the battle, despite getting a little scorched by a magical fire trap on the way in." "If you'd been any later, you might not have had anyone to save," the Kolgari said with a smile. "Your timing couldn't have been better!" "I'll drink to that!" the Jarl said, producing a skin of ale and sharing it with the elf. The allies cleaned up the battlefield, laying their dead to rest in the forest around the ruins (including the spy, Silas), and standing guard as carts were brought in from a neighboring Avalonian community to haul off the magical and mundane books to be examined back in Cedrica. The animals and other humanoid creatures held captive were freed, and the extra-world portals demolished and sealed. The ground the demons died on was consecrated so they could not be raised again, and the other remains burned to avoid their return as undead. ---------- Queen Ylspeth met with the troops and the guild representatives at the Golden Goblet and congratulated them on a great victory, now able to tell them the entire story, which she did in detail. They mourned their dead and raised their glasses in salute to the fallen. The queen then made an announcement. "We shall erect a monument of the battle and for the fallen at the site of the ruins, memorializing a day when all of the guilds of Historica came together to defeat a dangerous foe. We shall not soon forget your deeds, or our strength together." "There is still work to be done. The main threat is dispersed, but it is unknown if there are survivors of the Enlightened, parts of their summoned armies may yet exist, and their spies still run freely in each of our guilds. I am assembling a group of scholars from each of the guilds to study the writings found in the ruins and we will try to discern as much detail of the plans of the Enlightened as we can. Keep guard! The battle has been won, but the war is not yet over."

Entry for Book III Challenge IV, Category B "The Crown in Daily Life". Memoirs. I jumped out of bed, panicked with the pounding sound coming from the other side of my chamber door. No sunlight came from the outside, meaning it was still dawn. I ran out of the room and there, covered in the shadows of the trees, stood a tall man with a thick brown bush under his nose. - Five minutes. We are going fishing. My father was not an early riser. But if something could take him out of bed before the sun casted its first light, it was important. That morning, he had fetched a horse, tied his bags onto its saddle and prepared breakfast so we would not starve on the road. Make no mistake. It was important. The days in our village were cold, frosty, windy, and slippery. Everyday, through the whole year, through each of the seasons. But there were these other days – only a handful of days, when the gods were good and the clouds would clear out, the wind would stop, and the sun was so warm it made our skins burn. Those were the days my father would go fishing. He taught me the art of catching fish. But not only choosing a bait, casting a net and waiting for a bite. No. He taught me to read the tides and the wind. To hear the forest and perceive the scent of the trees. To observe the animals and learn from their instinctive survival drive. That was fishing for him. - Hear that? It’s a cormorant. This big black bird, called cormorant, I learned, was known for hunting fish. According to my father, no animal in the forest could smell fish like a cormorant bird. So, we would track this big black bird and follow him to the shores, only to find a pond flooded with either salmon, trout or bluegill. - Now, just remember to be patient. Move slowly and steady. Put your hands together and dip them into the water. Feel the flow. Just focus. Breath in. Breath out. It could be a matter of seconds or even hours. - You never go for the fish. You let the fish come to you. And when it does... You grab it. But it sounds much easier that it is. __________ Hope you can all find the hidden crown piece. Let me know what you think. Make sure to check my other entry for category A in this challenge: Louis of Nutwood.

previously After the battle at Fort Cander, Eoin and his soldiers had set out for Cedrica. They had not left any survivors so they did not have to travel under cover, and they had all decided to stop at an inn before going to the palace for more information and a good night's sleep. Eoin had decided that he also need a drink, so he approached the bar and got in a conversation with the bartender. He also noticed the crown and guild colours which he had seen a lot in Cedrica. "Rumors?" said the bartender "Those aren't true! The queen would never do such things, where did you hear that!" "A friend told me" said Eoin. "I thought it seemed to fit,didn't she just get back from a trip to Nocturnus?" "Eye that she did, but it is still preposterous even with the Undead rebellions in Nocturnus!" replied the angry bartender. Eoin then took his drink back to his table, not wanting to start a fight or draw attention. Below are some more pics. C&C welcome!

previously Eoin had been living at Fort Cander for three weeks now, and had an escaped thief, an orcish sorcerer, a blind archer and some wolf thing called a Gnoll who had shown up on the second week he was there. It was a huge step down from having dozens of soldiers and a massive castle under his command. He was also very far away from any civilization but he was excited because he had just gotten last week's issue of the Weekly Mitgardian! Eoin had enjoyed all of his saturday morning reading the paper when, he heard a commotion coming from the woods! And he recognised Erdan running across the rickety bridge from the woods being chased by mitgrdian soldiers! "Help!" screamed Erdan, as he hopped gracefully off the falling bridge. Against what most would probably say was his better judgement, Eoin attacked the soldiers who were chasing his old friend. So after a chaotic battle, Eoin questioned Erdan about the whole event. Erdan told Eoin of how Queen Ylspeth had recently been to Nocturnus to practice necromancy. "I saw it all with my own eyes!" he said. "She was trying to summon her dead brother back from the grave, but the power corrupted her and I am on a mission to stop her from destroying Historica from within!" And Eoin agreed to help him. Here is som additional pics: Hope you like it,C&C welcome!

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.

previously When he returned home, Eoin was greeted by a worried looking man who said he was sent by Jarl Olav of Nordhiem. The man also told him that he was expected there for a meeting in two days. So two days later Eoin was on the doorstep of Jarl Olav's hall, when he saw a familiar face. It was his friend and fellow Karl, Douglas! So after their reunion, the two went inside for a very long and boring meeting about everything from this years harvest to the troublesome Orcs and greedy Dwarves. Jarl Olav tended to yell a lot so by the end all the Karl's ears were sore, and none were brave enough to cover their ears for fear of offending him! So Eoin was very worried when he was yelled his new assignment. "YOU HAVEN'T BEEN DOING YOUR DUTIES! NOT A SINGLE PATROL IN A WEEK?! INSTEAD GALAVANTING OFF ON SOME ADVENTURE?! I'M MOVING YOUR ASSIGNMENT TO FORT CANDER" So there it was, he was now Karl of the wooden fort Cander. The assignment was to secure the area and make peace with the local Dwarves and Orcs (hopefully) then develop the wooden fort Cander. C&C Welcome!

previously Eoin had decided it was time to do something about Sarkon. He was going to leave him, alone in the woods. He had decided to do it in the morning, before Sarkon got up. But the first thing he saw took him completely by surprise, he had wondered where that orc had gone! Quickley backing around the other side of the nurse log to escape him, he soon found Sarkon standing with his sword drawn at the other side of the clearing! So the duel began, with the orc standing a little off to the side making sure he could help Sarkon if needed. "I knew you would dessert me!" Sarkon screamed in anger."I'll become lord of Mirandor you'll see!" And soon he gained the upper hand! But Eoin had a trick up his sleeve... Quickley slashing upwards, he got Sarkon's leg! And then, taking advantage of Sarkon's weakness he ran back to Nordheim! This is my last entry to the 2019 Summer Joust. Thanks to everyone running it, it's been very fun this year! C&C welcome

previously Eoin was starting to question his choice of joining Sarkon in his quest to find the sword, for many reasons. For one he didn't know where they were going, and Sarkon wouldn't stop talking! He talked and talked about a few sensitive subjects, such as the mitgardian government and about how he should be made a lord or even jarl. His plan was that when he found the sword he would scare the jarl into making him a lord, using the swords magic properties. Eoin knew he had to do something... C&C Welcome

previously After the loss of his friend Erdan, Eoin had gone to Nordhiem to have a little break from all the fighting. He had just turned a corner when he saw someone he hadn't seen before, and he knew all of the other lords of mitgardia. and it was definatly another lord he saw but based on the colours on his shield he looked like he was from Nocturnus! He even had an orc with him! He went up to the man and asked him his business. "My castle was destroyed by soldiers from the spire in the last war and they had stolen an ancient family heirloom, my great great grandfather's sword! my name's Sarkon by the way" Eoin asked if he could help. "Oh sure you could help it would be very dangerous though, I had actually come up here looking for it. We best be on our way if we are going to find it. What is your name?" "Eoin Wallace" responded Eoin. Well just as he tried to relax he had gotten himself involved in something else! Here are some additional pictures: This was my no grey entry to the Summer Joust. thanks to everyone running it, it's been a lot of fun!

previously It had been a very long ordeal that led to this, as well as a very sad one for Erdan that had led to his decision to leaving Mitgardia. Mitgardia had been his home for all his life! He had never even left, but now as an outlaw he had to. He had disguised himself with a dark cloak so nobody could catch him. He decided that when he got to where ever he was going he would probably take a job as a hired sword or bounty hunter, at least it would pay well. C&C welcome, see ya next time!

Hey ya'll, I just thought it would be good to make an index of my mocs so far for this story, in case there is someone reading this: AoM Tower Phase One AoM Tower Phase Two Mirandor Castle Woodland Ambush Orc Outpost I will also be away for the next little while but i'll try to have another build in around 2 weeks. Now, on with the story! Eoin had made up his mind. He had sent his scouts out to look for the base of the orcs and after a few days, they had found it! It was close to the heart of the orc marshes, in a ruined watchtower. So Eoin had assembled his finest warriors expecting a fight, but Erdan had come out and challenged him to a duel! Of course he had to accept it was the only honorable thing to do. Besides, it would resolve this whole incident once and for all! Soon, the duel started going badly for Erdan... he fell in the water! Eoin thought he drowned. he was not so lucky... As Eoin was leaving Erdan bobbed to the surface, spluttering and cursing and moved out of sight. Then vowed to get his revenge on Eoin, no matter the cost...

After a long and uncomfortable journey, Erdan was woken suddenly as the carriage was knocked over! He was being taken to Erikson to go to a more secure prison than the one at Mirandor Castle. Now that he lifted his head and looked around, he saw an orc war party coming to attack! First they attacked the guards and then one even came around the back broke the door open and one asked him "why were you arrested?" "I tried to sneak into Mirandor Castle" replied Erdan, "why did an orc war party come to help me?" " We were told by one of our own that you were trying to sneak in, and that he gave you directions. So we watched the door and you didn't come out" said the orc " we were all very nervous when they assigned Eoin to the castle near the marshes, because we thought they were trying to take our lands and we thought you might know more. Can you help us?" "Alright, i'll try" said Erdan. More photos on flickr

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.

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.”

This is my entry for challenge 3 what will tomorrow bring, on the fortifications categorie. Erdan was feeling jealous. He had recently been visited by his old friend Eoin who had told him he was getting put in charge of a castle near the orc marshes. Erdan was jealous because he secretly believed himself the better leader and that Eoin could have paid someone for the leadership! He had followed him there and planned to sneak in and find out. After circling the castle, he found an orc who told him he could sneak in through a grate near the keep to get in. He found the advice helpful and found himself thinking: maybe orcs aren't that bad after all? Soon he found himself in a small secluded pool, right beside the keep. All he needed now was some way to get insite... After stealing the keys he found it easy enough to get in. Unfortunately, when he opened the door there was someone sweeping the floors! He was going to be spotted! So he drew his dagger and killed the unwary servent! He soon managed to climb in to the study, if there was any evidence it would be here! But just as he got to the desk he heard voices and saw Eoin and some soldiers coming up the ladder with swords drawn! he had failed. "Erdan?"said Eoin "why are you here? and looking at my papers..." then Erdan interrupted saying "I was just curious if you had... " Then the captain of the guard jutted in "you are coming with me Erdan, down into the dungeons for breaking into this castle, whatever your reasons were!" then he turned toward Eoin and says "I'm sorry for this unpleasantness, it's sure a good thing that you got here when you did!" This whole encounter left Eoin feeling very uneasy, he was very glad he had a castle at his disposal especially with all the rumours going around. What would tomorrow bring? Here are some photos of the rest of the castle:

Eoin had not anticipated the journey to his castle to be so eventful. One of the more memorable times, was when he had stayed the night at the home of one of his old friends from the army. His friend, Erdan, had taken up residence in an old abandoned tower located just east of Falkidalr. One day during his stay at the tower, Eoin was just waking up when he heard a great commotion going on outside! After he went outside he saw a group of orcs coming to assault the tower! Apparently the orcs didn't want him getting to his castle that was situated in the mountains close to the orc marshes...

A mysterious stranger nonchalantly sets down a sack laden with unknown contents. After a few minutes, he walks away, leaving the sack behind. Within moments, another figure appears and, after looking about to see if he is being watched, picks up the sack and moves quickly away. What exchange has just taken place? Historican politics are notoriously secretive…

Lady Gwenllian gave some thought to the Queen’s decree that all municipalities should participate in some sort of revelry. Prenmôr was still a fledgling community, and practical considerations had to be made. There weren’t enough townsfolk to staff an elaborate fair, jousting tournaments required large prizes and housing for more guests than Prenmôr could accommodate, and there were no traveling circuses at the time on the western coast of Avalonia. Thus, Lady Gwenllian settled on a concert. The stage was relatively simple to build and was adorned with the flags of each Guild. No seats were needed as the grass field served as a suitable seating arrangement while a special raised platform was constructed for invited guests of Lady Gwenllian. There was plenty of room for the crowd to camp on the undeveloped surrounding land, while Lady Gwenllian hosted as many of her invited special guests as she could in homes of her household. Two bands from Nocturnus were hired for the event: a zombie band, the Grateful Undead, opened for the headliners: the famous, ever-touring, centuries-old Rolling Bones. The day of the concert, commonfolk swarmed in from the surrounding countryside in the morning. The crowd swelled with the monstrous horde that followed the Grateful Undead from show to show. As the day wore on, fans from farther away, including Mitgardia, Kaliphlin, Varlyrio, and Nocturnus, began arriving to hear the famous bands play. Many of the lords and ladies of Avalonia made an appearance, and even some from Kaliphlin and Mitgardia as well. A few were flown in via dragon (courtesy of Lady Galaria, the mistress of dragons). The night grew dark and the skeletal band from Nocturnus made their way onto stage to the backdrop of magical fireworks provided by the band’s roadcrew wizards. The crowd was surprisingly large, having drawn from across the land. Lady Gwenllian’s family fortune had been built on brewed drink, and although she was unable to brew her own beer owing to the fact that Prenmôr had not yet seen its first harvest, she picked out the finest local beers, meads, and ciders for the concert, with some special wine in reserve for her invited guests. Some of the ladies of the guilds, Lady Eleanor of Bluevale, Lady Gwenllian, and Lady Galaria mistress of dragons, toasted one another with some spiced wine. Lady Seren poured wine for Lord Faladrin while Conrad the Sly waited patiently in line behind him for more drink. The guard lets Count Julian Arfelan back into the private section with his food. Naill chatted up a member of the local stonecutter's guild for leads on skilled labor for his community. Not all the concert libations were about the drink... Card tricksters hawked their game near the concession stand. A few of the concertgoers got a little wild. Visitors appeared from all over the realms. As the band played on into the night, a good time was had by all! Note: this build is 41x49