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Previously: A New Post at Gammeltårn Party Supplies Perils Old and New Unsought but Welcome Out through the Market The quay was crowded with sailors and merchants who hurried between the boats, barges, and ships at dock. Smaller craft suited to the plying the island's rivers had nestled into the berths along the outer wall of the structure, while the seaworthy vessels were docked in the dredged-out depths of the inner harbor. The air was filled with shouting and laughter in countless tongues, and wares in all manner of boxes and caskets were piled all about. The Lord of Førstlys and his second son, Kjell, accompanied by Ulrik Dunwald and trailed by a small retinue of guards, forged their way through the bustling throngs. At the end of the quay they passed through the sturdy bastion that served as customs house, watch tower, and lighthouse, and out once more into the autumn sunlight. Beside the pier lay a ship unlike any they had ever seen. Brilliantly white and glistening with gold, it was larger than even the great Kaliphlian dromons that had sought shelter in the harbor during the Elemental Crisis, all those years ago. Before Kjell could find words to remark on the sight before them his father had hurried onward to the elf. The mysterious visitor, who had promised passage across the impassible seas that guarded the southern coast of the Burial Isle, strode forward to greet the approaching men. "My friends," he said, offering an outstretched hand, "the hour is upon us. Let us make haste, that we trade not kind winds for long farewells." Kjell's father took the elf's hand and spoke solemnly. "I fear that I shall never show you the true depths of my gratitude. Though perhaps fortune will yet favor me, and you shall grace our halls again ere the end of my rule. At that time I shall certainly try." The elf smiled and bowed his head, then turned and swept down the gangplank. The Lord of Førstlys turned to Kjell and placed an arm upon his shoulder. "My son, may the gods guard your footsteps and their wisdom guide your hand. Bring your cousin home." "As you will father," Kjell replied. He bowed, turned, and, followed closely by Ulrik, boarded the ship. The crew of elves moved deftly to cast off and set sail, and soon the quay was shrinking across the widening water. As Kjell lost sight of his father amid the teeming shadows and forms of an increasingly distant Førstlys, a wave of fear and resentment washed over him. He hated the formality and decorum that kept him from embracing his father in the face of uncertain fate, and he hoped with all his heart that that had not been the final farewell that they would share.
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Previously: A New Post at Gammeltårn Party Supplies Perils Old and New Unsought but Welcome The autumn sun had nearly reached its zenith as Kjell and his father made their way from the stronghold and down to Førstlys' harbor. Avoiding the prying eyes of the High Road, they took the Watchman's Way and picked a path through the bustling Lower Market. "Father, know that I do not question your judgment, but I must know why you entrust me and my task to this envoy," Kjell pressed as they walked on. "You speak as though you are old friends, though I have never heard his mention." His father was slow to respond, pacing deliberately through the crowd with his guard behind him. "When I was young, perhaps not even half your age, we hosted this very same elf in our halls. He spoke little of his origins, though he told many tales of our own island, as if he had lived several lifetimes upon our shores already. During his short stay he taught my siblings and me to read books and scrolls from my grandfather's library that even our most learned scholars could not decipher, and he showed my father and me many of the island's secret and forgotten places. He was among us for but a few seasons, and then, quite abruptly, he departed and did not -until this day- return." "So why return now and entangle himself in our domestic affairs? While I am grateful for his aid, I am loathe to let a new friend fight our battles for us with so little a commitment of our own strength." Kjell grumbled, his legs aching to reach their destination with more urgency than his father would allow. "As he told us earlier, he believes that this domestic affair aligns with his own task, and coincides with his purpose in returning to these shores," his father replied. "Though, as to our commitment, fear not my son. Some of your compatriots returned from their ranging this morning, and have volunteered to join you in relieving your cousin. Ah! Here comes one of the very same hardy fellows!" The lord of Førstlys halted and waved as a tall, swarthy, mail-clad man cut a path through the crowd, his heavy grey cloak billowing behind him. Kjell recognized Ulrik Dunwald and his confidence swelled. It would truly be a boon to have a company of Skygger at hand. Ulrik reached them, stopped, and offered his sword as a sign of fealty. "My lord, I am yours to command!" Kjell's father inclined his head in acknowledgment, and Ulrik turned to Kjell. "My captain, it has been to long since my Shadows and I have ridden at your side. We are happy to do so once more." "And I am happy to have you at my side, old friend," Kjell replied, offering an outstretched hand. "Then let us make haste," Ulrik exclaimed. "Glory, and a ship, await!"
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AoM Barracks phase II: Thorshaven training ground
Beleg the Ranger posted a topic in Guilds of Historica
http://[url/https://flic.kr/p/2j1WRDw][/url]20200514_101038 by pope.dt06 , on Flickr Beleg the Ranger, after returning from a long trip, finds the Mitgardian peasants around Thorshaven severely lacking in training. He brings several of the young ones who dream of fighting to his private sparring ground, centered on an ancient shrine to the War God. He aims to train them into a professional mercenary force that might eventually be hired in the rapidly developing Nocturnian Civil War... I am going to document the adventures of Beleg and his band of mercenaries, who you will get to know better, after I finish moving. This is a build that I made a while ago, and the story was a little hasty, but I hope you will enjoy it! Click on the photo, and you will see a pic of the shrine in the corner. I am moving, so you'll not see a lot of me on the Forums. I hope to get back into building in a month or two.- 1 reply
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WIth buckets full of honey, Bjorr and Edd return to Bjorr's house. They pass Lokscrag tower and are greeted by Snor, the tower's gaurdian. Bjorr: "Mmmhhmmm, this stick sure is sticky, but man does this honey taste good!" Edd: "yeah, I guess I'll have a taste when we get home seeing as I got my hands full." Bjorr: "Oh hey Snor, look what we're bringing home! Two buckets full of honey! I'll ask my mom if she can spare some honeymead for you." Snor: "Oi Bjorr, that would be lovely, tell your parents they make some fine mead." TG0_0224 by R. de Rover, on Flickr TG0_0225 by R. de Rover, on Flickr TG0_0225 by R. de Rover, on Flickr TG0_0229 by R. de Rover, on Flickr TG0_0223 by R. de Rover, on Flickr TG0_0230 by R. de Rover, on Flickr Had some real fun buildign this, tried some snot rockwork, and had to support my wall as you can see. Hope you guys like it aswell, feedback is always welcome!
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I know, I know, it's been a LONG time since I posted an AoM moc, and this is definitely not worth the wait. Still hope you like it ;) The store itself The interior, with another satisfied customer leaving with a brand new pokey stick Close up of said customer Side angle Other side. I know this is not up to the standard of other phase lll stores, but it's a big improvement over my phase ll, so I still hope it counts :) C&C welcome as always!
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Chapter 10. The large oaken gates of the keep opened to a cleansing wind that pierced through my leather jerkin and made my guts stop twisting. My cloak pulled and flapped behind my back, giving farewells to the nauseating stench inside those thick stoned walls. - The Lions will be here soon enough. We must leave this place. – said one of the prisoners, running towards the stables. His messy hair flowing over his grey eyes. The sky was painted in pink as the sun rested among the trees. Delicate white specks fell from the sky, adding layers on top of the snow covering the ground. The stable’s wooden roof was torn and rotten, and barely protected the horses from the falling snow. Hob ran his hand across the long nose of a chestnut-colored mare, to calm her down. Frozen icicles fell from her humid mane. I approached the brown stallion and patted him on the neck. He neighed and a cloud of frozen air came out of his nose. There, there. I fastened the bag of coins to the saddle and jumped up on his back. Hob’s companions entered the tower that neared the stalls – looking for more lion guards, or just food, I could not say – but both left with chunks of frozen apple and carrots, horse provisions, inside their mouths and sacks. I figured they hadn’t eaten for the past days. - Where we headed? – I asked and they exchanged wary looks. - The boy can be trusted, Balduin. If it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t be out of that stinking cell – said Hob. I didn’t have much choice, but I guess it was true. Balduin fastened the saddle on a velvet-black Appaloosa and pulled himself up. - Follow me. We won’t stop until we get there. It is best that we ride through the night. – He pulled his hood up, covering his face, tucking his ponytail and shielding himself from the cold. The horses moved one after the other, into the forest. Behind us, a red trail of blood tainted the snow and the leaves and the air, though apparently the only one who could see it was I. ... and the gods. I turned my head and glanced at the keep. Its walls sinking behind the trees; its lanterns fading into a distant glow, smaller and smaller with the gallop. The sun set on our backs, so we rode in the shadows, listening to the blowing wind between the branches of the trees, singing in our cold ears. The keep was left behind, but I could hear the desperate screams loud and clear. ________ The stables lean on the walls of Svalg Keep, situated on the lower part of the Bay of Storms, in the cold lands of Mitgardia. This is a continuation from the previous chapter 9.2 Payback. Hope you all like the story and the build. This is the first time I actually used GIMP to treat the photos as a recurring recommendation. Please, let me know what you think. Your feedback is always much appreciated. Entry for Age of Mitgardia - Stables Phase II. Thank you! Sir Louis of Nutwood.
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Lady Eleanor has chosen a site to build a new fortified village to act as the center of her activity in Bluevale. It lies on a fairly flat island, in the North-East of the vale. The island is bordered on the south by the South Lake, on the west by the Ridge River and on the north and east by a flood channel. A small river runs through the channel which overflows extensively during the Spring thaws. A series of small Watchtowers have been build on the bluff between the flood channel and the Island to overview the approaches to the new building site. Sir Loth Strongarm and his son Stenon the High Ranger are inspecting one of the completed towers and discussing general concerns of the Vale, the new constructions as well as possible threats to the Lady's attempt to establish her rule. Meanwhile Stenon's oldest son Robb is leading the dwarf brothers Surwid and Norwid on an expedition to an abandoned mine to assess its potential for iron extraction and creating an iron, steel and related products manufacture hub.
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On the northern slopes of Pikesteel Mountain, nestled among the trees that blanket its basalt crags and sandy gullies, a complex of ancient structures lay. Seemingly untouched by time, and well hidden from prying eyes, its pure white walls had sheltered generations of Great Elk clansmen when their forest homes were menaced by immeasurable threats, then sat unoccupied in times of peace. But in the wake of the devastation wrought in their lands by the Algus, the elves sought to keep a permanent presence in this haven. The Pikesteel dwarves, for their part, had never been able to find the stronghold on the borders of their domain. Thus, they regarded it as a rumor or legend, and were surprised when the elves requested it, and even more surprised when the elves showed it to them. Some among the dwarves argued that they should claim the fortress for their own, given its situation upon their own domain, yet when scouts were sent to find it without elven guides, the hapless dwarves searched the forest fruitlessly for several weeks before stumbling back through the gates of the mountain, perplexed and looking rather worse for wear. Still, the Pikesteel dwarves were eager to have an ally to shelter their northern flank, and so they ceded the land and even committed to aid the largely nomadic elves with settling into their new, well-fortified home. The expert dwarven craftsmen, guided by elven design sensibilities, seamlessly integrated the elves' improvements with the existing structures. In little time the numbers of the tribe swelled, their kinfolk flocking eagerly to the flourishing citadel, which they called Herfin Telosuren in their tongue, or the Haven of the Great Elk. Travelers pays their respects at an ancient shrine to a god whose name has long since been forgotten to these lands. Admiring the tribe's motif, newly affixed to the Great Tower. The elven chieftain thanks the leader of the dwarven craftsmen for his efforts. The fountain tower looks out over the forested slopes that descend to the great lakes and flat lands to the north.
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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! ________
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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!
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Mill "Mitgardia's farmers feed the guild. They are up before dawn and work till well after sunset. They face any number of challenges they can't control, from too much rain to not enough, from diesease to insect infestations." This will be integrated in a larger layout i'm working on. The mill is my entry to Age of Mitgardia - the mill category.
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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...
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Eoin was very exited! He had been given orders to go to some mountains close to the orc marshes to oversee a castle that had been recently built there. His own castle! He could not stop thinking about it as he gazed at all the little wooden watchtowers along the road, they really looked like the turrets on a castle...
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While it was common for the families of Mitgardia to send their sons to the northern tribes after their twelfth summer, only the children of the Burial Isle were sent out regularly before they came of age to become accustomed to the wilds. Makny had learned from his father when he was only seven how to fish the streams, trap small animals, and build shelters and fires to keep him warm through the cold nights. One of his favorite things to do after a long autumn harvest and many days in the hustle and dust of the storehouses was to take his horse into the hills and be alone. Makny liked to make camp beneath one of the great black-barked trees that grew on the high hills, deep inland. They had broad branches that kept off much of the rain and snow, and were usually found near some of the strange ruins that dotted the Burial Isle. Makny enjoyed spending his evenings - after building his lean-to, unsaddling his horse, and lighting his fire - contemplating the ancient stone structures and the people who might have built them. I've been sitting on this, waiting for a sufficiently overcast day to photograph it and enough free time to post. C&C welcome as always!
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AoM: Farm Phase 2: Strongarm's Homestead Produce Garden
Bracari posted a topic in Guilds of Historica
The path out of the orchard leads Sir Loth Strongarm by the family's produce garden, lush with crops. There he sees his granddaughter Yura, the middle child of his son Stenon, harvesting vegetables. Hard working, strong-willed and beautiful as her mother. She is of marrying age but, like her older brother, does not seem to give much thought to it yet. Granted, the current small Vale community does not have many potential compatible suitors. Another thing that might change with the return of Lady Eleanor, with the possibility of the return of some of those who left the Vale and the arrival of new settlers. -
While out riding one day, Makny's horse spooked and veered off the road, galloping through a field of tall grass. Makny was irritated, but not worried; he had ridden fast before. He tugged on the reins and chided the horse, trying fruitlessly to steer her back to the road, not watching the ground in front of him, until suddenly the horse was rising beneath him. He lost hold of the reins. His legs flew clear of the saddle. He flailed and grasped at the air. Now he was worried. He coughed and sputtered on the ground, struggling to regain his breath after a thick tuft of grass had knocked the wind from his lungs. After a few moments his father was over him, still in his own saddle, with Makny's horse at his side. "You're lucky," he said, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "You just missed that rock." Makny grimaced and rolled over onto his hands and knees, coming face-to-face with the stone that could have killed him had his head fallen a few inches to the left. He stumbled to his feet, limped defiantly over to grab the reins from his father's hand, and clambered back atop his unruly mare. As they picked their way back through the field an old saying played at the back of his mind. "A man is not beaten until he stops getting up."
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Sir Loth Strongarm walks through the Apple Orchard of his family's homestead and reminisces on the past. He lost his wife, daughter and most of his family when a volcanic eruption destroyed his home village, while he and his two eldest sons where on a mission patrolling the high passes of the mountain ranges that surround Bluevale. Luckily his youngest son, Stenon, survived the natural disaster. He stood by his Lord, Brius, when Brius' brother tried to usurp his place. In the ensuing conflict both his eldest sons died in combat. Although victorious Lord Brius departed to the Capital leaving Loth Strongarm as Steward of Bluevale and protector of its people, the few that remained after the hard times fell on Bluevale.He trained his youngest son as a tracker and warrior as himself, to one day replace him.When his son married Skyra they settled in a small clearing on the slopes of the northwestern mountains of the vale.In the intervening years the farm has grown and prospered and so has the family. Strenon now has three children of his own, Robb the eldest son, a daughter named Yura and the boy Tarrys. Returning his thoughts to the present and to Lady Eleanor, Lord Brius' grand-daughter, who is returning to reclaim her dominion of Bluevale. He sent Stenon and Robb to escort her party through the mountain passes. They should arrive soon and one thing he is certain of is that life in Bluevale will change yet again. A few more photos can be seen at https://flic.kr/s/aHskDb2fP2 Any comments are welcome. Pretty new to this world and eager to learn and improve my skills.
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Many buildings in Sorgheim were dug into the hills that rose at the feet of the inland mountains, but the storehouse was dug down even further than most, protecting its contents from the bitter cold of the long northern winters. Much of the building was made of timber, as this was easy to harvest and work into building material, but the foundations and columns were stone. The stone on the ground kept rainwater from soaking into the wood and causing it to rot, and the columns held up the significant weight of the slate roof and snow that often laid on it for months at a time. Inside, food was kept as dry as possible, and inventories were frequent to make sure nothing spoilt before it could be used to feed the village. The fourth and final section of a long project, I'll have pictures of the whole thing up later (they need a little polish before they're presentable). C&C welcome as always.
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As they toured the island, Makny and his father would stop in many towns and villages, making sure that local affairs were in order and speaking on behalf of the Lord of Førstlys when needed. One of the stops on their journey was to Sorgheim, an ancient village that stood at the base of the mountains where could be found many of the tombs, crypts, and barrows that gave the Burial Isle its name. In recent years Nocturnian raiders had begun to frequent the shores of the island, occasionally making their way deep inland. Thus, the people of Sorgheim, like so many others, had bolstered the defenses around their town. The gatehouse at the center of their palisade made use of an ancient, crumbling arch, which they had cleaned and rebuilt to an extent, and which the Jarl's men now patrolled. I've been sitting on this for a while because I wanted to post it as part of a larger assembly, but with the guilds being so quiet lately I figured I might as well post it now. I'll probably clean it up a bit more before I post the whole scene, but for now C&C are welcome!
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The palisade around Sorgheim was erected in haste, though not without care, and its earthen ramparts were broken with bastions that allowed defenders clear sight along the outer face of every wall. If an enemy were able to make their way to the base of the wall, they would find little shelter from guardsmen's arrows. Another section of a larger scene, this goes with the gatehouse I posted last week. C&C welcome as always. Hopefully I'll find more time to finish the other sections soon...
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...about 5 years ago, when things started to getting worse for the citizens of Euosmos and strange things where happening all over Mitgardia because of the rising hordes of Algus, a boat with a handful of brave men from Euosmos, sailed across Winter Lakes to the open sea towards East, far away from the known lands of Historica... They were looking for a safe place away from any Algus threats, to make a new start for their civilization and keep the soul of Euosmos alive. It took them about a month sailing before they finally saw land! The region was ideal to build a fortified city, so they immediately started working on it.... the city of "Salonica" Soon they had their first houses ready and about three year after, the fortified walls were ready too. The named "Kastra of Thessaloniki" were one of the toughest walls all over Historica and the citizens were finally safe, for once and for all. Hey there guys :) thanks a lot for hosting this great contest, it was the big period we had available to build, that made me think to finally expand the Kastra Gatehouse I had built and also build the interior village I wanted. (you can exclude the main gatehouse from judging) The project consists of 3x3 48baseplates for now and I aim to further expand it when I find time. The windmill at the hill is rotating with power functions, and there are also several lights at the tavern below it and around rockwork. I was also thinking to make more threads and link them here with the main buildings/baseplates better photographed (detached) but for the time being I will leave it as it is, all together. I am working on this project since the announcement of the contest, with a few months off and on, and the final moc consists of MANY parts as you can see xD I hope you like it Giorgos Solomonidis Gunman Kastra of Thessaloniki Military Parade Every year since the beginning of the new era for the citizens of Euosmos, they organize a military parade to celebrate their new hometown. Sir Gunman has left a clone of himself next to the King, because he has information that upcoming danger in incoming to the city of Salonica, and he has to prepare himself. Every citizen has a chance to see from close-up their brave military The coming of the citizens of Euosmos to this land, wasn't so peaceful... in fact, strange fleshy looking people were living here. All of them were captured and since then are kept on a small island on a lake near Salonica called Skyraloga to avoid any transfer of their illness to the healthy citizens. Every year, during the parade period, a few of them are taken from the small island and are forced to join the parade inside a wagon. Dragonslayer's Inn One of the top Inns in the City of Salonica, famous for its view from the balcony Dimo's Stable The stable, owned by Sir Gunman and his family, named after his grandfather. Some of the finest horses of Salonica and held there. Sir Gunman it getting ready to leave his house and go see if the rumors for incoming danger are true, Market Every Sunday, one of the finest markets of the city is getting place near the Monument of the Fallen Angel You can find from small fishes till one of the finest armors in the lands of Historica The Statue of the Fallen Angel dedicated to all the fallen Mitgardians, during the long journey from Euosmos to Salonica Dragonslayer Windmill This windmill is used by citizens and military people too. Normal citizens use it to produce their flour while military people are on duty and use it as observatory for incoming danger around the city. Next to the windmill, there is also a big Cross made out of stone, to threaten incoming enemies. Many citizens find this place very romantic, and choose it to get married. Lights ON Last but not least I would like to claim the following: Inn phase 3,Stable phase 3,Walls phase 3,Store phase 1 HSS entertainers.HSS Scholars,HSS Religious
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The Lord of Førstlys was in fact the lord of all of the Burial Isle, and its safety was, first and foremost, his concern. Thus, trusted members of his household were often seen traveling the length and breadth of the island, taking count of the defenses of the various communities set along the rocky coasts and nestled into the mountainous interior. Makny's father would often take him along when it was time to inspect, leading him on horseback through the hills and gathering news from every outpost they passed along the way. Inspiration for the rockwork came from @soccerkid6, particularly his recent Nordheim Watchtower. I might be lacking subtlety in my own application, but I generally like how it turned out. You're welcome to disagree of course.
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Every so often, Makny would go with his father to check on the stores that had been gathered over the growing season. The old warehouses had been dug into the hillsides along the fields to protect their contents. The earth kept the old burrows cool through the heat of the summer, but made sure they didn't freeze in the depths of the cold northern winters. C&C welcome as always!
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While the city of Falconstone keeps expanding, the training camp in the nearby Ginnon Valley is also under constant development. An archery range has been put up, from which archers and axe throwers can practice hurling their projectiles at targets placed before a wall of straw bales
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The training camp has been expanded again, for the governor decided the horse training would be moved here as well. The horses will be trained to overcome their fears, like dogs, and knights can come to practice here with their lances .. and here is the complete assembly of the Ginnon Valley training camps: I built the tower first, and some people thought the rocks were a bit bare, and some vegetation would be nice. Then the idea rose to create an archery range next to the tower, which could 'connect' to the rock where the tower was built on. I tried some tree design there as well, though I am not too happy with it (stability is too bad, alas) I found some tan bricks as well, and came with the idea to make straw bales to catch arrows gone wild. Then lastly I added the horsegrounds, for I was playing with a horse when I came up with the dog-scaring-the-horse-scene, which I quite liked. The idea of the tan sand is that its trampled all the time, which serves as an excuse not to add texture, as i do not own much tan except for the tan being in a WiP right now:O Main reason to build this was to get started on the tower phase 2, for which I can now make a big build (if I would put the big build as phase one, I couldnt surpass myself anymore xD) The stable was a bit rushed, but I wanted to finish it before the weekend because I would be gone for a while, and now I can immediatly start on my new project :)