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Blessing of the Ancestors Among the dwarves of Historica, veneration of the ancestors is widespread and many statues of fallen heroes are placed in the great dwarven halls. It is common to seek the blessings of these heroes of old, usually through a ritual performed by a priest, before going into battle. The ancestors are given offerings of the best food imported from the surface. Since the food disappears shortly after the ritual is performed, it is a widespread belief that the spirits of the ancestors are returning to feast in their halls of old. Some dwarves weak of faith are however whispering that the priests are maybe looking a bit too well nourished during times of war…? Please give me feedback on the photography and editing, I've been playing with my new camera and trying to learn Lightroom and might very well have overstretched a slider or three when developing the pictures
Gideon posted a topic in Guilds of HistoricaInfiltrating through the Necropolis A company of dwarves are infiltrating the drow tunnels through the catacombs of a vast dwarven necropolis, deep below ground in southern Mitgardia. That the necropolis is nowadays connected to tunnels of more evil origin is sadly all too apparent, since drow or orcish plunderers have recently sneaked in and broken up all the cover stones of the graves to plunder the riches of the entombed dwarves. To someone like these dwarven warriors who are venerating their ancestors, this is an atrocity that cannot be forgiven and strengthens their resolve to defeat the Drow. Please give me feedback on the photography and editing, I've been playing with my new camera and trying to learn Lightroom and might very well have overstretched a slider or three when developing the pictures (Credit to Teabox for inspiring the design of the alcoves)
I meant to do all three categories of the Dwarven challenge, but of course ran out of time. So I have an extra long intro story for a rather small build. Front View Southern dwarf Abdullir Lapiscarver and his compatriots pay their respects to the ancient statue of Wandrir Southseeker, deep in the mine tunnels under Mt Erezhi in Kaliphlin. Back Left Side: Back left side Back Side: Back side Right Side: Right Side The Rickety Bridge: The Rickety Bridge Thalir loses his footing Thalir loses his footing The statue of Wandrir Southseeker statue Bridge again: Bridge Closeup Look who's here! And he's lost a ring in the lava... Look who's here! Fire demon in the lava cave below Fire Demon in Lava Pit And here's the big story: Old mother Lapiscarver was giving her son, Abdullir, a beardful. "You're not joining those old fools in Mitgardia!" she demanded. "They're being led down the proverbial mineshaft by the beard! We Kaliphlin dwarves have no quarrel with the Avalonian elves, and even the Drow are decent trading partners, as long as you watch your back. Why go up there and get yourself killed?" "We dwarves must stick together, and drive out the heathen scum!" the youth retorted. “Solidarity with our oppressed brothers from the north! The dwarven peoples rise up as one! Even though we southern dwarves were accidentally shipwrecked in Kaliphlin centuries ago, we should still support our Mitgardian brothers!" “What are you talking about?” his mother scolded. “Wandrir Southseeker wasn’t on a pleasure cruise when he was shipwrecked. He and his clan were forcibly exiled from Mitgardia at spearpoint. They were lucky to escape with their lives." “Kids these days; they don’t know anything.” sighed the old crone. “Our ancestors didn’t want to go back, and didn’t feel very brotherly towards to Mitgardian dwarves. When Thonur Granitefist came to power in the North, and invited the southern dwarves back, Wandrir sent his emissary back north packed in barrel of black oil, with a lapis lazuli stuck in his mouth. That’s how the southern dwarves felt about going back north." “Well,” Abdullir hesitated for a second before recovering his fervor. “High Priest Grart Forgesplitter says that now is the time for dwarves to stand together, to protect ourselves from the tree-hugging infidels. If we don’t fight the elves now, pretty soon they'll be overrunning Kaliphlin itself!" His mother didn’t say what she really thought about the self-appointed “High Priest” Grart. That would only make her son defend him adamantly. “The best way to protect Kaliphlin dwarves is to stay home and build up our armories. The Revolword war seriously depleted our weapon-stock, and we need good armorers and weaponsmiths to replenish. Even though you're just a young dwarf, you’re one of the best in the region. You’re the Lord’s Armorer in Sandstuck. What about your responsibilities?" Abdullir felt a tug on his conscious, but refused to let it gain ground. “Mother, I’m 97 years old now. I know you think that’s young for a dwarf to be out on his own, but I’ll be with others, good strong young dwarves like Cragin Foebasher, Barek Graniteleg, and Kirthen Stonethrower. Grart says I’m to be the leader of the group. I can’t let them down." “Phah!” snorted his mother. “Altogether that lot is about twenty karats short of pure gold! Cragin only knows five words, and four of them are kinds of rock. Barek keeps losing his tools and weapons everywhere. And Kirthen was banned from the mines after the third time they found him whimpering lost in the under-tunnels. Why do you want to fall in with those losers?" The young dwarf did not react well to this criticism of his compatriots. “They are true dwarves of the pure golden way, sworn to brotherhood on the holy anvil of Southseeker himself! You shall not dissuade me! We go to purify the north of its elven infestation!" "Well, I see that you're as stubborn and firm as obsidian. Promise me two things though," she conceded wearily. "Maybe. What?" asked Abdullir carefully. "First, if anything bad happens, you go straight to Lady Sharitah's cousins in Valholl and get them to help you. Don't trust the dwarves to help you. Regardless of what you think, you're not one of them; you're an outsider, and they won't hesitate to throw you to the wolves. Be careful of any special tasks they give you; they're probably setting you up because you're dispensable." He nodded slowly. "OK. The Lady gave me a letter to give to her cousins, so I have to stop in Valholl and see them first anyway." His mother looked him in the eyes and added, "And secondly, you must visit the statue of Wandrir Southseeker in the mines at Erezhi, and pray for your safe return." Abdullir stroked his beard as he thought it over, and then assented. "It's on the way. The boys won't mind; I'm sure. If it will make you feel better." So our youthful dwarf and his compatriots soon found themselves winding through the caverns deep under Mt Erezhi, far below the fabled mines still being worked by their relatives. The negotiated rotting, ancient wooden bridges across lava pools, taking care not to provoke the man-bats, gollums, and fire demons that live nearby. Finally they came upon a spire of rock in a large cavern, topped by a huge, old grey statue of a strange, beardless dwarf, the ancestral leader of the southern dwarves, Wandrir Southseeker. I'd like to a get two subjects approved for the UoP DoH program: Landscape Design - extreme environments (lava), and Landscape Design - studs up rocks and cliffs Thanks for looking (and reading)!