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Hi! This is a small island made for the Medieval table of our LUG exhibition, Oeiras BRInCKa 2016, last week. The Mists of Avalegon by Jorge Pereira, on Flickr This was the second time we had real water in our table and since one of us brought a smoking vulcano (real smoke from a RC "portable" fog machine intended for parties) I've been researching ways of doing a fog / mist effect at small scale. Have been working with model train smoke generators and also custom made smoke generators but for this particular MOC I decided to use 3 USB bottle cap air humidifiers. Each unit has a wick that brings water from the bottle to a small metal part at the top that vibrates fast enough to disperse the water in small droplets that float in the air - one can see two of those metal parts at the left size of the island, near the cauldron and the dolmen, the third one is hidden near the pine tree. Each wick was cut to the height of the unit and I also opened a small hole near the bottom so water could reach the wick. Luckily the USB plug is near the top of the cap so no need to protect it from water. At the beginning of the exhibition I used just 1 USB power adapter and 1 USB hub to power all units but later opted to use 3 power adapters to give enough power to each one (I suspect each can draw near 700 mA). It worked very well all 4 days, except that after 8 to 10 hours I also found that I had to remove and reconnect power, not sure if there's some kind of timer or temperature protection in the units. Merlin by Jorge Pereira, on Flickr The Merlin minifig is using a custom made cloak, printed with an inkjet printer on canvas ("Reeves acrylic pad", A5-size paper for painting, 190 grams per square meter) and a Brick Warriors lyre. I forgot to put the elf minifig original cloak but after some hours of exhibition I decided it was best to leave that way, there was already to much water over the MOC and it would probably ruin it.
The Poacher Chapter I: The Tranquil Meadow Chapter II: Old Bagshaw's Residence Chapter III: The Poacher Chapter IV: Making Camp Chapter V: Solitary Council Chapter VI: Escaping Home Chapter VII: Waylaid Chapter VIII: Archery Practice Chapter IX: Honour the Fallen Bonus Landscape: Avalonian Countryside Averil guided her rowing-boat silently through the morning mist. Her fiery hair damp with the moisture of the fog as she waited for the shore to appear. She couldn't see more than a few yards ahead of her, but she didn't need to. These waters were familiar enough, and she welcomed the cover of the mist. Averil had been poaching in the forests of the Overgrown Isle for years now. Necessity had driven her here despite her fears, fears that had turned out to be unfounded. There had been plenty of game, especially as she dared to travel further inland. She would have plenty to bring back; more than the family could eat, so she could even trade the rest. Those days had been good days. But they lay behind her now. Now prey was scarce, even when travelling deeper into the forest, and more often than not she would have to head home empty-handed. In fact, it had been over a week now since she had even seen anything worth hunting. Averil knew the reason to this; it was due to the new settlement, Newquay, that had been set up on the isle. - 'Those fools are scaring everything off' she mumbled to herself. Back when she had first noticed the lack in game she had tried heading further up the coast to get some distance to the colony, but it had not helped. Either the whole forest was affected, or she would have to head even further away, which would make it impossible for her to make daytrips to the isle. She was getting closer to the shore. She could feel it. Soon she would be able to make out the dark contour of the towering forest through the mist. - 'Perhaps I should start spending the nights here?', she thought. Even after the years she had spent her, the thought of spending a night here was enough to make her uneasy. She had done it once, and she hadn't slept at all. It was the noises. They were... different. Not like the noises of any other forest she had made camp in. No rustling of leaves, no chirping of birds. Instead, the noises were low, creaking and groaning sounds, that did not seem natural, or perhaps too natural, she couldn't decide which. The air had been heavy and still, much more so than during the days, and she had been excessively aware of the noise of her own breathing. It was not an experience she would like to repeat. As the shore came into view, she aptly steered her boat to a suitable landing spot. On impact Averil started gathering her things. She opened the hidden compartment in the bow of the boat and took out her spear and longbow. She put a net over the fish she had bought this morning from old man Gent, to keep it from being snatched by animals while she was hunting. It was meant to be her catch of the day, as people would be suspicious of a fisherman that never brought home any fish. It smelt something horrible though, and on closer examination, no one would believe it to be a fresh catch. - 'It will have to do', she told herself. Spear in hand she lithely jumped over the side of the boat and started tying up the boat to a gnarly old tree. Once done, she grabbed her longbow and headed off. - 'Perhaps we she just move to Newquay', she said to herself as she started to make her way through the underbrush. It was a thought she had entertained many times, but the idea of being closer to authority than necessary worried her. As she spoke the words, though, she realised that she was seriously considering it. Perhaps it would not be so bad. Being based on the isle would certainly expand the area she could cover in a day. Nobody knew about her poaching, and if she was careful nobody would. - 'I'll just be a poor fisherman, just like I am now, and no one will be the wiser.' Her brother would probably like it. He always complained that he couldn't come with her on her trips here. And Gammy would be happy anywhere as long as she was with both of them. Newquay would be as good a place as any. She may even have a chance to hunt legally for whatever lord was in charge there, although that may raise the question as to where her hunting skills came from. And moving to Newquay would certainly mean a degree of lost freedom; always someone around to see you. That definitely did not sit right with Averil. She would have to do something though, and soon. They didn't have much left to eat, and unless she caught something by the end of the week they would start starving. - 'I'll catch something today', she told herself. 'We don't need Newquay.' She knew she wouldn't though. The forest was empty, and so would their bellies be. Newquay was their only option. *** Experimented a bit trying to get a nice mist effect. Got some “non-misted” photos on my flickr, as I felt it ruined to atmosphere a bit to add them here. Also, I would like to request UoP DoH credits for the following: Geography: Oceanside or River scene Hope you enjoyed the MOC :)