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Found 8 results

  1. I'm reposting my entry for Brickscalibur here, the Monarchic Minifigures category - photo, text and reading! The build: The story: Were-beast hierarchies were notoriously fickle; leaders changed with the moon phase: wax, wane or sickle. The Wulf-Tang Clan was one such curious case; led by Matriarch Wulf, firm grip on the royal mace. Rip, Fang and Wrinkle, her loyal sons three; keeping them in line? Certainly not free: Pay for the damage when Rip fought in bars; Pay off the victims whose tongues Fang kept in jars; Pay for the tools as Wrinkle read the moon and stars. A change in the guard, though, when the harvest moon come: as Runt took over as leader of the pack, with his running mate Ocker watching his back. Sweet Lily, too, had ambition for the peak; Trice already she’d eliminated the weak. A lick of charm, males ate from her mitten; Runt, especially, reduced to a kitten. What she couldn’t obtain with just feminine wiles, Lily removed with a drop from her poisoned vials. Regardless of whoever was leader day-by-day, everybeast knew don’t cross were-coon Fay. As den-mother, her power was wide; Get on her wrong side? Your tail was fried! But one thing was true across all the moon’s phases, the bottom of the heap was reserved for tree grazers; Were-beaver serfs – they might not be free, but leaders beware … they could still fell the family tree. The poet's reading: If you like to hear the bard's own reading of this story, there is a sound file available on the Brickscalibur Discord server here. I don't think I can upload to here directly (or to Flickr). Build notes:
  2. The build: The Rise of Slågö Farm The story: Marija Slågö ran one of the most productive horticultural centres in Notomys. While the land had always been fruitful, Marija’s hard work, shrewd business sense and innovation had taken it to new heights. This had seemed unlikely even one year earlier. Back during the Drow-Elf civil war, Marija’s husband Grigor had been wounded defending the hamlet. Several years trying to fight off infection and caring for her increasingly debilitated husband had seen the farm slowly neglected. When Grigor finally succumbed to death, Marija was left with two toddlers and one newborn. Some in the village urged Marija to abandon the farm and return to her childhood village. Marija had other ideas. Leaving would mean betraying her husband’s dreams and leave their children ignorant of the home they’d built together. Instead, she vowed to turn the farm around. First, her mother-in-law Đoris moved in to assist with caring for the children. The homestead itself was built around a large, stone storage room perfect for storing the root vegetables that were their staple crop. Accessed through a wooden ladder, the second floor was a single room, dominated by a large bed with enough room for Marija, Đoris and the two wriggling toddlers. The infant, at least, had its own cot. A small kitchen, play area and Gregor’s dented amour completed that floor. A small attic completed the structure. Ever since the war, Marija kept her bow and a full quiver up there; with windows on each side, she could defend the homestead from all sides. Marija’s second intervention was to sidle up to the local gnomish tinkerer and convince her to develop some new fan-dangled beehive prototypes. Marija had noticed that, the more active the farm’s bees, the more plentiful their crop. One of the local wood elves even volunteered to maintain the hives in exchange for a small portion of the honey. With the new beehives working a trick, Marija also increased the wildflowers surrounding the farm. While some neighbours considered this a waste of precious labour, Marija was convinced it would support her valuable pollinators. While she didn’t yet have a buyer for her abundant flowers, she was hopeful the well-to-do Varlyrian newcomer in town might be persuaded to purchase some. Finally, Marija also scaled up her manure production. She liked to repeat the story of the visiting scholar from the University of Petraea who’d tried to convince her that soil in the Enchanted Forest was so fertile, you could plant beans anywhere and overnight expect to find a giant beanstalk. The truth every Avalonian farmer knew was that soil gave back what you put in – and that meant compost. So Marija struck up a deal to secure copious amounts of the best manure available: centaur manure! Forest fillies were regularly seen lugging bulging sacks up Slågö farm track, leaving shortly after, light of step, and accompanied by the clink of coin. This season, Marija and Đoris’ efforts had come to fruition: a great crop of spuds and peppers; pumpkins, red and green gourds well on the way; and the full crop of giant corn sold even before it matured! Of course, none of it would have been possible without the support from the other women of the village, many of whom had lost their own relatives in the war. Inspired by stories of the Avalonian Oak Maidens and Sword Sirens, Marija was one of the founding members of a small archery militia, alongside the trapper Jultarra and the hunter Roisin. As a small way of giving back, Marija had chosen to host a banquet to mark the graduation of four new, fully-fletched members of the archer’s guild. First up was Ari, manager of the local delicatessen; next was the fisherwoman Sofia; followed by Bess, whose mother ran the tavern. The last to attempt the test would be the Cyclops Scythia. This would be her third attempt, having struggled to overcome her lack of depth perception. To assist Scythia, the other guild members had pooled funds to buy her a crossbow. Hopefully this time would be different - at the very least she had been warned multiple times not to hit the old beehive! The cast: The Slågö family and helpers Marija, Kalene, Miri, Đoris, Cara, the cat, the bees, Medb, the chickens, the armadorses The centaur gong farmers: Đamerus, Thalile, Sophare The archery guild: Jultarra (trapper), Roisin (hunter), Ari (delicatessanier), Sofia (fishmonger), Bess (publican's daughter), Scythia (Cyclops), Zara (butcher), Joan (baker), Alice (candlestick maker), Agnes (shopkeeper), Donika (shepherd). Build notes: More photos on my Flickr album.
  3. The build: Lord of the Flies Agaric The story: Mushrooms were big business in the Enchanted Forest and one of the best mushroom groomers was Flix. The pixie specialised in painting fly agaric mushrooms, making sure their white spots were vivid and perfectly round. While mushroom grooming was often a relaxing task, Flix was always wary of insect attacks and kept his rapier with him at all times. Build notes:
  4. The build: Something was rotten in the forest of Notomys The story: After the archery graduation ceremony at Slågö Farm, Tarra rejoined her litter mates at their trappers’ camp in the forest. While she loved the women in the local archery militia – their steely determination to protect their families, their commitment to mastering their skills, and the warmth of community they shared – they were still foreign. Human ways were different and often strange to the ways of Tarra’s people, the Jerboans. Take for instance, the women’s militia garb. It wasn’t a uniform – they were too informal for that – but most chose to dress in green robes thinking this would help them blend into the Enchanted Forest. Maybe it did if you relied so heavily on sight, but for Jerboans, whose ears were as large as heads, all it did was generate many sounds foreign to the woods: leather rubbing on wool; wool rubbing on burlap; burlap rubbing on furs. She’d tried suggesting the women wear less but that idea had only gained traction with Scythia the Cyclops – and even Tarra herself opposed that idea! In her absence, Tarra’s litter mates Otis and Bibly had continued trapping and skinning martens. This season they’d set up temporary camp near a pond that provided ready access to fresh water. Marten furs fetched a good price at the hamlet of Notomys and it had been a bumper season. “Look at this monster,” said Otis eagerly on Tarra’s return, showing off a plump marten. “I should get double for this pelt!” “‘We’ will get double”, she corrected as she deposited a freshly caught hare by their hut. The camp was simple – not like the elaborate structures her human friends built: a simple semi-circular hut, covered in treated hides; a small cooking brazier; a drying rack; and a few supplies that couldn’t be foraged from the surrounding lands. This was another difference between the Jerboans and Humans – the former preferred more nomadic or semi-nomadic lifestyles while Humans seems to prefer to hide behind large stones. As Humans had moved in the Jerboans had accommodated them but it led to the curious naming of the hamlet Notomys. The word “Notomys” literally meant home in the Jerboan language but it had become just a place signifier in the common tongue. About a week later, the trappers received an unexpected visitor – another Jerboan accompanied by a white swap wolf. “Bayawarra!” called Tarra, recognising their guest. While Tarra and Bayawarra were from different packs, they had fought alongside each other in the Notomys militia years earlier. “It’s been too long. Do you know Otis and Bilby?” she said, introducing her litter mates. After introductions and niceties, Bayawarra took Tarra aside, his nose wrinkling as it did when he was contemplating something serious. “This isn’t just a friendly visit,” he began. “Have you … have you seen anything strange recently?” “Strange? Yes, definitely”, chuckled Tarra nervously, “I saw Bibly do some actual work!” “Oi! I can still hear you from over here,” interjected Bilby from the other end of the camp, “these ears aren’t just to make me pretty!” “But seriously, no, we haven’t seen anything odd that comes to mind. Why?” Bayawarra continued, “I’ve increasingly been coming across animal corpses in the woods, but they haven’t been eaten – or even touched by wildlife – as you’d expect. And some have had … well mutilations is the best work I can think of. Hearts removed but nothing else. And what concerns me most is that I can barely find tracks to follow.” He paused, petting his wolf. “Simma here can pick up a little scent, but I can tell it’s unfamiliar to her.” “Gosh – no we haven’t seen anything like that. It sounds creepy! You don’t suppose… no… Look, if you can’t track it, I’m not sure that I can do much better.” “Perhaps, but you know this area far better than I do. I’m starting to miss the Inner Marshes. I would really appreciate your help tracking this down – if you’re free to come that is.” Tarra knew a request like this from Bayawarra would only come if he was deeply worried. What could she say but yes? “Sure, Bay, I’ll come. Can you stay for some tucker first or do you want to move straight away?” Bayawarra agreed to spend the rest of the day at the camp. That night they all traded stories over the campfire; Bilby adding levity with his comic impersonations of friends and foes alike; Otis delighting with a few of the simple magic tricks he was practicing; and the tracking animals – Bay’s marsh wolf, Otis’ corhounds and Tarra’s fox – sniffing and grooming each other. It was a moment of rest and tranquility that poorly foreshadowed what was to come. Build notes: More photos on my Flickr album.
  5. The build: Hot pools on the hunt The story: A steep mountain range ran through the heart of the Enchanted Forest, dividing the very ancient forests in the northwest with the merely ancient forests in the southeast. The range went by many names to the peoples of the forests: the Wizard’s Spine, Titan’s Jaw, or merely “the range”. One particularly tall peak had, in times past, been volcanically active; now, geothermal vents still peppered its southern flank. If you knew where to look, some of these vents emerged in thermal hot pools, providing a steamy respite from the surrounding snow and ice. The Varana sisters, Ooru and Gudoo, used the thermal pools as waypoints on their hunting expeditions. Despite the sulphurous emissions, the pools were the perfect spot to remove their snow shoes, warm up, dry out their sodden fur cloaks, and brew a little tea. On this expedition, the siblings had a special target: the elusive giant snow bear. It would be a challenging hunt – to even find a bear; let alone kill it. Snow bears had long, white fur, which provided almost perfect camouflage against the snow and the ice. If you were skilled enough to track one down, you then had to content with their sharp claws, almost as long as a Varana head. Still, Ooro and Gudoo were excited by the hunt: Not only would it challenge their skills but when you were paid upfront with a gold bracelet – with the promise of a second on completion – how could you not be excited! Build notes: C&C welcome.
  6. The build: The story: The life of a fungus herder could be a lonely one. Most mushrooms were skittish creatures preferring the quietness of the deep forest and the solitude of their own kind. Too much sunlight, noise or disturbance and they grew slowly or not at all. For this reason, fungus herders were often quiet, introspected folk. Some of the most renowned fungus herders in all Historica were the tree-folk of the Enchanted Forest. Tree-folk were often reclusive themselves, sometimes living out their entire lives in the same valley or grove. Their introspective nature enabled the tree-folk to discover the magic of fungi – both metaphorical and mystical: the phosphorescence of gilled Pixie chalices; the healing power of Witches’ Steeples; or the purifying abilities of Spotted Purple Caps, capable of negating evil rot incantations. Of all the tree-folk sub-races in Historica, the best fungus herders came from the grent sub-race. Although few grent would admit it to outsiders, part of the secret to their success was that they could form symbiotic relationships with many fungi. Tiny fungal hyphae would wrap around grent roots and even penetrate the root interior. The fungus provided its grent partner with minerals in exchange for nutrients and other chemicals the fungus needed but could not produce itself. This skill enabled the grent to intimately monitor the health of their herds and encourage spore growth. Even grent, however, sometimes needed help propagating their fungal herds. In a grove within the Enchanted Forest, stood three ancient standing stones. Twice the height of a man, these stones stood in a slight semi-circle. For most of the year they stood grey and largely unadorned; not even moss or lichen marred the surfaces. At the autumnal equinox, however, faint traces of purple and silver runes appeared carved into the rockwork, hinting at a long-forgotten magical purpose. Uncovering one – likely incidental – use for this magic, the tree-folk had repurposed the standing stones for the annual, highly anticipated fungal swap meet. Grents, other tree-folk and the occasional wild dryad would herd their finest fungal specimens across the forests to this one grove. Under a full moon, the magic of the standing stones would ripen the fungal spores, which spawned in vast multi-coloured clouds. The air seemed almost to sparkle as moonbeams fell on clouds of spores. The normally solitary tree-folk were affected by the occasion too, becoming almost giddy. They swapped stories and news; traded fungal specimens; and, on occasion, frisky grents even coupled to propagate baby grent saplings. This particular year, the first to arrive at the standing stones were a small group of grent. There was Ngaio, herding a troop of sharply-pointed Witches’ Steeples; the juvenile sapling Mahoe attending his first meet and showcasing some tiny puffballs, most still waiting for their pinks caps to erupt; and Kawa, corralling a mixed herd of Firecracker white caps and Sour Buttons. They were all good samples and likely to generate plenty of interest when the trading began in earnest. All focus, however, was on Kauri, or more specifically the magnificent specimen he was showing off. ‹Is that an Ogre’s Eye? I didn’t think there were any left!› said Kawa. ‹Is that actually up for trade?› asked Ngaio. ‹I’ll give you all my puffballs› added Mahoe. The Ogre’s Eye was a rare mushroom that was pale green in colour and with a large black spot on its crown. From above it resembled a large eye, hence its common name. While striking in appearance, this was not the reason it was causing a stir. The Ogre’s Eye was bioluminescent and soaked through with magic. It was an ingredient in many potions and highly sought after by elves, mages and even Nocturnan necromancers. Kauri let their excitement wash over him before responding. ‹Hah, no way! I’ve already got a buyer lined up in Cedrica. This one is just for show - I've already removed all its spores. I thought you’d like a look before I make my fortune.› Kawa looked away to hide his disgust. This was a classic move by Kauri, who loved showing off but also proved damn successful at almost everything he tried. Kawa moved off to inspect Ngaio’s troop, refusing to give Kauri any more attention. Tiny Mahoe, however, was clearly impressed, shuffling up for a closer look. Thankfully the moment didn’t last long, with another arrival. A hulking tree-man shuffled into the standing stones glade, preceded by a collection of red and white capped -shrooms. ‹Baob, you’ve really packed on the rings› said Ngaio in greeting. ‹You look like you’re ready to go to seed!› When tree-folk reached a certain age, they gave up their mobility to put down roots. ‹True, I am. This will be my last swap and I’m giving away all my troops in preparation.” Baob was a different sub-race from the grents, a much stockier group known as mallowmen. Three large trunks grew from his hunched back curving outward in gentle lines. The offer of free mushrooms was enough to entice tiny Mahoe to the newcomer. ‹What is it with everyone going to seed all of a sudden? First Rimurapa, now you› interjected Kauri, shifting his specimen in a transparent attempt to restore attention to him. ‹Rimu’s gone to seed?› said Kawa in shock. He’d always been close to that particular grent and it came as a surprise to hear the wizened mentor had settled down without letting him know. ‹Yes, over by the Notomys’s coast› Kauri preened delivering the news to his rival. He’d intended to wait until there was more of a crowd before doing so, in order to embarrass Kawa in front of more kin. Hearing that development, Kawa immediately lost interest in the swap meet. While he needed to stay to revitalise his herds, he resolved to visit his old friend as soon as he the meet wrapped up. He wanted to perform the fungal exchange rituals known to ease the transition to a sedentary state – and find out what had caused his friend to seed years earlier than expected. The herders and their herds: From left to right: Kauri - the Ogre’s Eye; Kawa - Firecracker white caps, Sour buttons; Mahoe - pink cap puffballs (mature and immature); Ngaio - Witches’ Steeples; Baob - red-capped toadstools, pink-spotted boletes, red hard-caps Build notes: Comments and constructive criticism welcome!
  7. The build: Anton's Bait Shop The story: Anton was something of a fixture in the sleepy hamlet of Notomys. The burly and gregarious fisherman was always ready with a tall tale or a free filet for a family in need. While his Bait Shop sold supplies – hooks and bait, smoked fish and seafood – many villagers stopped by more for entertainment. There was that story of Anton riding a manta ray right up the estuary; his claim to have caught a gorgeous naiad with his lucky lure (actually a rather furious were-beaver); or the yarn about how he drunk some visiting dwarves under the table – and what a low table it was! When the Drow incursions into Avalonia reached the Enchanted Forest, Anton was one of many local men lining up for the Notomys’ militia. It was a mixed-race contingent, reflecting the diverse population of the village and its surrounds: men and wood elves, jerboans and were-beasts, even the odd local orc. Unsurprisingly, the militia operated in a somewhat chaotic fashion but it did enough to harass and harry the Drow and buy enough time for support to arrive from a unit of fleet-footed elven stag cavalry. Sadly, while Anton returned from the war, he did not survive it. Shot in the leg by a poisoned Drow arrow, Anton was carried home by one of his fellow militia, a weathered grent known as Rimurapa. The unlikely pair had bonded when Anton shared a few, stumbling words of greeting in the old Druidic tongue with the tree-man. The fisherman had learned the phrase from his wife, a wood carver and devotee of the old ways, until she passed on after the birth of their second child, Gorki. Anton spent his final week with his children, Sofia and Gorki, retelling familiar stories. Most stories ended with a rip-snorting punchline, but they also contained wisdom and nuggets of fishing knowledge – where the fattest trout liked to sun themselves on winter days or the best bait for catching the rare, blue woolly eel. In truth, he needn’t have worried: although still a young woman, Sofia was a natural at crafting traps and snares that even the wariest crustaceans were draw to. Gorki was still merely a boy, but Anton knew the village would help raise him into a man. Still, fathers were fathers. Anton’s final words were directed not at his children but at Rimu: “Promise me, you’ll watch over my kin. Promise!” Rimu promised. Grent ways were mysterious, even to those that had lived among the forest folk for centuries. Anton couldn’t have known he would be taken literally by the grent with Rimu sinking his roots deep into the soft silty soil behind the fishing shack, going to seed. Years passed from that sad day and still Rimu stood tall, watching over the grave of the father and his dear children. Seasonally, the grent’s limbs bore juicy purple plums while edible mushrooms sprouted from his trunk. Between this and Sofia’s seafood catch, the orphaned siblings not only survived but were able to set aside a little coin. Sofia bought chickens – the lucky birds were allowed to shelter inside the shack when storms struck – grew a veggie patch with some gifts from the market gardener and even mended the leaky roof. The Notomys villagers did their part, too, by continuing to support Anton’s Bait Shop. Now, though, the roles were reversed: it was the villagers sharing their favourite story of the gregarious fisherman or supplying a free meal to a family in need. Build notes: C&C welcome and appreciated.
  8. Eyrezer

    CDC2 CMF Eyrezer

    Here is my entry for the count down challenge "Populating Historica". This is my first thread on the forums and first proper contribution to Guilds of Historica. It was such a fun concept to try! I intend to link as many as I can with my settlement-to-be Notomys, a small fishing hamlet on the coast of the Enchanted Forest. I hope you enjoy! Avalonia: Bayawarra, Jerboan tracker Bayawarra’s knowledge of forest scat was second to none, making him one of the finest Jerboan trackers in the Enchanted Forest. Avalonia: Jultarra, Jerboan trapper Trading marten furs provided Jultarra a living, but more importantly it gave plenty of opportunity to practice archery; her dream was to be the first Jerboan to join the Faerie Forest’s elite Archery Guild. Varlyrio: Marquis of Motu, Human business magnate With Varlyrio intrigue never far from the boil, the Marquis of Motu restored a summer manor in sleepy Notomys; the perfect spot to avoid the (literal and metaphorical) heat. Varlyrio: Lady Motu, Human socialite In Lady Motu’s eyes, a ball was the only way to christen a new manor; invites were sent to all the local Notomys “lords” (insofar as such a thing existed). Kaliphlin: Monoii, Desert Cyclops heiress As heir apparent to her clan of desert Cyclops, Monoii choose to leave Kaliphlin to explore other lands and forge new alliances. Kaliphlin: Arges, Desert Cyclops brute So long as she kept him fed, Arges would follow Monoii to the ends of the earth (which was Barqa, as far as he was concerned...). Mitgardia: Duned’in, Human drunkard Comatose the night the Algus raided his village, Duned’in retreated further into the bottle and further from Mitgardia to escape the ghosts of his family. Avalonia: Sofia, Human fisherwoman Sofia always had a knack for designing snares and craypots to catch even the craftiest of crustaceans. With her father a victim of Drow poison, her skills kept Sofia and her brother Gorki fed. Avalonia: Gorki, Human orphan Gorki specialised in catching hermit crabs; anything larger he left to his sister Sofia lest he be on the receiving end of a nasty bite. Avalonia: Flix, Pixie larrikin For Flix, the work of a pixie was never done: first, there was gathering pixie dust, then there was distributing it; then there was pranking those that visited his fairy ring. Avalonia: Aliạria (Ạria), High Elf herbalist Buck teeth were an ill fit for High Elven standards of beauty - but a perfect target for cruelty. After suffering one too many practical jokes, Aliạria quit the Kingdom of Hesperia and found purpose and belonging as the herbalist and healer in the tiny hamlet of Notomys. Avalonia: Kawa, Grent fungus herder Kawa spent his days tending mycorrhizal fungi and propagating lichen. He was alternatively helped and hindered by his friends Ạria and Flix. Avalonia: Marija, Human widower Left a widower with three infants, Marija discovered a sharp business acumen running the village markets gardens – with support from her mother Đoris. Avalonia: Đoris, Human gardener There was nothing like purpose to roll back the years: Đoris gained new vigour expanding her daughter’s gardens and helping raise her three tiny sprogs. Nocturnus: The Devourer, lich sorcerer Known only as the Devourer, this sorcerer emerged from the fens of Nocturnus during the Drow-Elf War. Now years later, it was rumoured to be sighted again stalking the moors. Nocturnus: Ạrken, Corrupted Drow assassin Its Drow body corrupted by malignant voodoo, Ạrken longed to return to the North and scorch Elven forests to the bare earth. And one of the whole crew together (Flix not to scale!)