Search the Community
Showing results for tags 'rakath mountains'.
Found 4 results
-
Somewhere high in the Rakath mountains... Orc (crossbow) What's that sound? Orc (axe) Aye, what? Orc (crossbow) Rustle of the air, round the back of the mountain. ... It's getting louder, better check the pass! Orc (axe) Aye, gonna look, boss. ... Aye, something fly'nour way, kinda fas.... At that moment, a knight of steel shot past the mountain ridge at incredible speed, and leaving behind a blazing trail of deep blue flames... Zotharith's research institute recently developed a flying magical device, powered by exceptionally durable blue arcane crystals. Damascian of My'athar, a cunning, skillful knight, was entrusted with it, to carry out an important mission: calling all wandering wizards to return to Zotharith. His target being in some town in the Rod's Peaks, a long period of continuous flight ahead, Damascian was killing some time by doing nose dives and scaring a few mountain orcs out of their wits... Damascian Spire or not, these guys are just too much fun to mess with! ------------------------------ Hello guys, here's my Cat. A entry, for the Resistance! I hope you like it! I designed Damascian way back in April 2016, but I never really knew how to introduce this character or what his role would be, until this challenge came around. Also, I had been playing with the idea of a mountain ridge outpost for a very long time, so it was great to finally have a go at it (though maybe I got a little carried away with that part, given the catagory). I wanted to make the most of the 256 stud area, so I didn't go with the standard configuration. Extra images: Area is 217 studs, counted from the ground up to the third layer of plates. The original design for Damascian. Thank you for looking, C&C appreciated, as always!
-
Resistance sympathizer King Zalgel has sent Urkan, his chief general, from his city of Griznâg in the depths of the Enchanted Forest of Avalonia to join with his royal cousin, Frykka the Brown, in Nocturnus in battle against the traitorous Black Spire. To get there, the band of orcish soldiers has had to brave many hazards, from fierce-eyed Elvish hunters, roaming human cavalry patrols, deserts, fell beasts, and now, at last, the towering Rakath Mountains. On the eastern side of those lofty peaks runs a river, red as freshly spilled human blood, called the Sayn Gwinos River by those who have made the maps. A single bridge crosses the that crimson stream, passing through the ensnaring webs of many deadly spiders. Will the orcs make it to Frykka's warband alive, to swell the ranks of the Resistance against Raavage's tyrannical reign, or will they perish in the mountains, struck down by noxious rivers and venomous arachnids? Time alone will tell... ___________________________________________________ ...................................................................................................... Introducing my second build for the Nocturnian Minichallenges. The photography hopefully looks quite a bit better for this one as I took some advice I was given and took the pictures outside in a shady spot with my old point-and-shoot digital camera. All the grey for the rocks makes me appreciate LittleJohn's Nordheim Fjall that much more... -
A silent night, in the Rakath Mountains. Just moments after midnight. Three soldier from the Resistance waiting for a meeting, in a canyon, not far from the main road. - Damn those humans! -grumbled the goblin- They are late! I would give them three more minutes, and then leave! - We have our orders. -said the centaur calmly, then looked to the third one: -right sargeant? The third soldier slowly turned around. A werewolf, he looked to the others with his yellow eyes: - Sure we have... General Grimm ordered us, to wait here, and meet the leader of the Avalonian mercenaries, to discuss their side, in our civil war. If one of us, leaves his post, that counts as desertion. I'm I clear? - Yes sargeant Farkas... -said the goblin. - Speaking of them, I think they have arrived. -said the centaur, and pointed down on the road. The two others looked to the way, where the centaur pointed. A small torch just appeard, not far from them, and moved towards them. Four cloacked men arrived, the flag and their armors were black and red. Just as the members of the Wolf Brigade. - You are late! -said Farkas. - this is lack of discipline, for a soldier. - Sorry, it was hard, to find the right path. -said the archer. - Bah.. then we are lucky, to not set this meeting in The Kelra Labyrinths. -the grim look of the werewolf face turned to a smile for a second - But we are here todo business. I'm sargeant Farkas, I was tasked to meet the leader of the Avalonian mercenaries, to discuss their role, in the upcomming conflict. You are the one, who calls himself, Conrad the Sly? - No, but I'm here to speak on behalf his name, you can call me Zan, the Black Arrow. The werewolf raised his eyebrows. - Whats more important to your leader, then this meeting right now? - Like, prepearing to help you, in your civil war, for the Darklands? -asked back Zan with sarcasm in his voice. - So... The Wolfs of Avalonia will help us? - For the right price. -said Zan, with a smile on his face. - And it depends, what help you require from us? - Ah.. Almost forgot the fact, that you are mercenaries... Luckily, General Grimm gave me this pouch of gold, as payment. We will pay more, if you keep your part of the bargain. - Sounds good for us. So what do you require? Supplies, weapons, soldiers? Or taking out targets? - First we need is the manpower, like sword-arms and craftsman. - Right - nod whit his head Zan. - I will take the payment, and return to Conrad with the news. Pleasure doing business with you. Zan reached out, to take the gold. But Farkas stopped for a second to sniff in the air. - *Sniff* *Sniff*... Darn! - What is it? - Drows! - said the seargent and reached for his axe. As the two groups picked up their weapons, three dark figure appeared from the shadows. One of them bears the flag of the Black Spire. - Put down your arms - said their leader, as he put down a large sack, next to him. -there is no need for bloodshed. - Then what do you want? - asked Farkas with anger. - Don't be so rude seargent. This is the way of the Resistance, to greet the guest in the Darklands? Let me show you, how we do it: I'm ambassador Ilrune, from the Black Spire. Let me welcome you, Wolfs of Avalonia, in the Rakath Mountains, Can I offer you some wine, from the Spires deepes cellar? - Be gone! - screamed angrily the werewolf. - They are here to do business with us, not drink with you. - Make no mistake sargeant, I'm here to do bussines too. - said Ilrune calm in his voice. - Lord Raavage needs the Wolf Brigades help too. Oh... And he didn't forget the payment. As he completed his sentence, he grabbed the sack and throwed it between Farkas and Zan. Afther the impact, gold scattered all over on the ground. Farkas looked to Zan with anger in his eyes: -Don't you dare touch that gold, or I will split you in half! -raised his axe. Zan calmly reached for and arrow, and turned to the sargeant with a smile: - Taking the money from a dead elf is a problem for you, partner? The angry grim on the werewolfs face turned in to a smile once more. - I like, the way you think... Moments later, the mountain become silent once more... I made this, for the Resistance.
-
Turmoil in Camp Carakath [Nocturnus Civil War] Ambush in the Rakath [Nocturnus Civil War] Onwards, to the Moruth Highlands! The Civil War of Nocturnus was yet to reach its climax. Lord Raavage had moved into the Rakath Mountains to retrieve the Necromancer's Helm, pursued by the 1st Corps of the Zotharian army, which was moving at a strenuous pace, beyond the front line, into unconquered territory. The 2nd Corps was assigned to fend off any attacks on the city of Zotharith and the surrounding area. Meanwhile, a division had been stationed at Carakath, a miners town in the Rakath southwest from Zotharith. The division was led by Vauranglir Merehgrim, 2nd mage in the Order of Zotharith. After defeating the Spire squadron that initially had the town's surface in control - underground, the dwarves defences were holding out - no attempts had been made to retake the town from the Resistence, and life was actually relatively peaceful. One morning however, Camp Carakath woke up to a baffling sight... Contrary to popular belief perhaps, skeletons are one of the toughest enemies for humans to face. Due to the lack of flesh, they are obviously invulnerable to flesh wounds and virtually invulnerable to arrows. It also makes them incredibly light and swift. Additionally, they are maintained by magic, which means they don't need to eat, drink or rest, and they can't drown. While it is true that they only have a very faint perception of physical world around them, their souls see the underlying spiritual world much better than humans can, enabling them to track down their enemies in complete darkness and regardless of obstacles. It goes without saying that the fact that a pile of them, plus a mage, lay lifelessly in the middle of the camp, seemingly without any witnesses of what happened, gave rise to great confusion. All that could be done was wait in suspense for the moment Vauranglir would step out his tent and lay his eyes on the bizarre scene. The previous night... It was the middle of the night. Vauranglir couldn't sleep. The bed he had been provided with was too soft and comfortable to his taste, thus got up and sat down in front of his tent. The two guards in the little trade hall were craving for sleep, so it seemed, and it didn't take much to have them both drop to the floor, fast asleep, before they had even noticed their commander. He'd take over the nightwatch, but to keep him occupied he started working out a spell that he had had in his mind for a while. The hours slipped by unnoticibly. Suddenly, he sensed something was approaching. He blew out the candle. For a moment, the thought of waking up the guards and soldiers crossed his mind, which he quickly rejected it. Too much of a hassle. He would treat himself to some nightly fun. Skeletons, several of them, charging towards him. Vauranglir was quite amused. Time for some exorcism... He slayed them one by one, and then their master showed up. He strengthened the sleeping magic for the whole camp, as he felt things could get a little rougher from here. Mage "Surrender yourself to the Spire and I will leave your comrades alive!" Vauranglir "You have me absolutely terrified. Come on, Spire lord, show me some magic!" Mage "Not a step closer, I will..." Vauranglir "An advanced targeting spell, excellent choice, very impressive! Though it feels like I've seen it somewhere before... oh wait, I DEVISED IT! Guess what, boy? I also know how to break it!" And thus, the unfortunate lad was done for, and Vauranglir could finally rest as well, though in a more temporary way. The morning would surely bring turmoil, but whatever... Hi, I'm back. I spent my (whole) weekend on setting up the scenes, experimenting with nighttime photography and editing. So, I spent quite a few hours in the dark, and right now it's past 2:00 AM here, so I guess I'm starting to turn nocturnal, just like Vauranglir. Now, let's hope someone will actually read all of this. I'm off to bed, lol.
