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Found 397 results

  1. Scarlet's Scar is a well known brother in Deep Gardens. Many travelersstops here, to rest here, or... release some pressure. The guard dont let you in, i certain cases. Like if you are drunk, or too young. But the guard dont have eyes everywhere... If you passes the guard, dont feel safe yet. You will find yourself quickly outside, if you do not stick to the rules. Inside, you can eat, drink, talk to the girls, watch the girls. And if you pay, you can touch them... The place is kept clean by the girlsoutside service. The place got a huge hall, where you can meet with the girls,an attic, with beds, and a cellar, witch is closed to the visitors. not because there is the food and drink storage, but there is a dark secret, under the building. I made this, to be a part, in the task4 historican settlements, as HOSPITALITY- LODGING. And there is more. A little story, about my sigfig and his loyal friends. If you are interested, check it out:
  2. Fîn The Farmer

    Younger brother of Ol' Colby, Fîn was always the odd one out. Carrots had never really appealled to him growing up, much to the dissapointment of his family. However, keen to make them proud he set off, and through some hardwork, trade and a touch of blackmail he ended up with a prime piece of real estate and his very own farm. Built in a week and a half for the Dunedin Brick Show I am pretty pround of it. It is veiwable from 3 sides ( a masssive acheivement for me) and even looks good :p It also won me best young exhibitor, which was the icing on the cake Very much inspired again by Legonardo and Derfel Cadarn. Now onto the GoH anniversary. Does it ever stop? Hope you enjoy and C&C welcomed.
  3. Gladensong (A Fairy Tree House)

    So it has been quite a long time since I've been able to poke my head into the world of Historica. But as has always been, the reclusive shrouded Mystic Islands often are oblivious to the outside world. But magic still beats strongly if slowly through the veins of the Fairy Forest. Feel free to check out the video as well! https://flic.kr/p/YrRoD5 I may be an old retired Avalonian ancestor but Historica will always hold a special place in my lego heart :)
  4. Dangers of smuggling

    The sewers under Albion, is a dirty place, There can be anything, what a man can think of. Except patrols, the guards not really often visits the network under the capital. So,it's a great palce, to avoide the toll, and smuggle in some good ale. If you got the stomach for that. And... if you ready to face the unnamed horrors, that lurks in the sewers...
  5. Poaching

    The soldiers not only fighting againts their enemies, but againts fatigue,thirst, and hunger. While most of the guilds fighting againts Raavage and his minions, the brotherhood decided, to suport their comrades at the front. And some times there is a dark secret, in every bite of the boar-steak... A picture from the two poachers from the brotherhood, and from the wild boar.
  6. The Chronicles of Hesperia Volume 1: The Sky Man Chapter 5: Stopping at Tíre Keep The Previous Chapters: Henjin Quilones stepped out of the elvish rowboat and walked up the dock towards the tower. Though it was only early evening, the flames were already roaring from the beacon post at its top, ready to ward any passing ship away from the dangerous shoals that lined the coast of the island. Tíre Keep, with its lighthouse, was one of the most important strongholds of Avalonia, and one of the farthest, if not the farthest, west, a final stopping point for food and supplies for any Avalonian ship sailing out into the Great Western Ocean. His ship, or rather, Galaria's ship, was moored deeper out to sea, past where the rocks would cause a danger to the fragile wooden planking of a ship's hull. He had been sent ashore to this abode of humans, since he, a human, would not look so out of place as one of the elvish exiles on board the Nagra Luca, or Black Wolf in the common speech of Historica. His brother, Bu'kanjin, or one of their druid warrior companions, could also have been sent, but Henjin had volunteered to come alone to broker a deal for supplies sufficient for an ocean crossing. Of gold they had enough, if pressed, to buy everything they needed and more, but then they would have nothing when they reached the shores of some distant land; Henjin's powers of persuasion had become legendary among his friends, and they all agreed that he would be the best to negotiate a favorable bargain for them. Henjin sighed as he gazed up at the tall tower, its six sides facing every direction. He did not know when they would be back in civilized lands again. Galaria had taken it into her head to travel the world after her father had sentenced her to exile, and she had no desire to stay around the continent of Historica. She had been granted a Historican Title of Nobility for her actions in the war with Raavage, same as Henjin, and would thus find a warm welcome wherever the Ruler of Historica was revered, but she wanted to leave, to see how people lived in other lands. Henjin had agreed to go with her, as he found something about the green-haired elf maiden hopelessly attractive. Bu'kanjin felt similarly towards Yavenna, Galaria's trusted lieutenant among the wolf riders, as well, and had needed little persuasion to join his brother. The wolves. Skoll, the white wolf that was now his, along with Biryuk, who was Bu'kanjin's mount, Laika, who was Galaria's, and the other wolfsteeds of Galaria's band, was in the hold of the Nagra Luca, undoubtedly very unhappy and seasick. Henjin had to get enough meat to feed them, in addition to everything else they needed. The gold in his pouch needed to go a long way. As he walked towards the small door set in the wall, he observed a man fishing from the rocks. "Greetings, sir," he said. "Where might I find the lord of this keep?" The man turned from his fishing with a sigh, saying, "The fish are not biting so far today, I am afraid; I blame the weather. It has been too hot, unseasonably so. We need some rain, that's what we need, rain." "If I could send you rain, sir, I would," said Henjin. "Now, where might I find the lord?" "Right here, my good sir," smiled the man. "I am Sir Kravek, Baron of Tíre Keep, Ruler of the Isle of Tíre, Lord Councillor of Avalonia. How may I be of service to a traveler such as yourself?" "My thanks, Sir Kravek. My name is Sir Henjin Quilones, Knight of Historica. My friends and I need sufficient food and supplies to sail across the Great Western Ocean." "I see. Welcome, Sir Henjin. Well, you have come to the right place. Now, that ship of yours anchored off in my harbor is clearly elvish, or I am an orc, so am I to assume that you stole it, or are your companions elves?" "Yes, Sir Kravek, they are elves, as well as men. And one orc, a refugee that we picked up along the way. Not more than eighteen all told, plus beasts." "Destination? Unknown, I suppose? Well, Sir Henjin, let us step into my office, where we can discuss matters more deeply. I have what you need, including charts and maps, and a suggestion for a destination, a place sure to welcome a motley collection of humans, elves, orcs, and beasts, whose existence has been reported to me by sailors coming through. You, in your turn, will give me assistance (and gold, I am sure). Come, come, this way." ____________________________________________________________ ......................................................................................................................... Thanks for looking, and C&C welcome! This has been posted at long last, my entry to the Summer Joust with @TitusV and @The Maestro. If you look closely at the last picture you might be able to see them there. The hexagonal nature of the tower was a challenge, but it worked out pretty well, I thought. My wife, typically no fan of LEGO, thought that this was my best build, and was genuinely sad when I took it apart. It should be fairly clear where my story is going, what with a 5th Anniversary Challenge deadline just over a month away...
  7. The brotherhood accepst any outlaw, and mischief makers, in their ranks. It's not cleane, but easy money, if you got friends,who will help you.
  8. Scavenging

    It is war. Death is everywhere. In this desperate times, people do unusual things to survive, or to gain more money. Bandits, outlaws wanders the battlefields, looting everything they can from the corpses left behind.
  9. The dead don't need those shining things. Neither the living, but he can buy food for himself, so he wouldn't starve to death. Or, they still need their shining things?
  10. The Chronicles of Hesperia Volume 1: The Sky Man Chapter 4: The Banishment of Galaria The Previous Chapters: Princess Galaria sat in the gardens of the palace of Istolia, awaiting her father. She knew he would be displeased by her actions, yet she could not, would not, apologize for doing what had been necessary to save not only Hesperia, her father's High Elven kingdom, but all of Historica. She had returned after travelling far and wide, having used information taken from her father's library to defeat the threat of the tyrannical Lord Raavage. She had been keeping company with humans, in particular the druid, Henjin Quilones, but also lords and ladies of many lands from all corners of Historica. This was behavior decidedly atypical for an elf of the blood, scandalous, even, and Galaria had been hesitant to return to her father's halls to receive what was certain to be a stern censure. She heard sounds from the hallway outside, and pricking up her keen elvish ears to listen, caught the full conversation between her brother, Fingalad, and her father, King Fingolë the Golden. "Father," began Fingalad. "Surely you have heard that Galaria has returned from cavorting about with half-bloods and humans?" "Yes, my son, I have. I was on my way to see her now, in fact. My ministers informed me that she is awaiting my presence in the gardens." "And what are you going to say to her, Father?" Fingalad said, a note of anger in his voice. "I will demand an accounting for her irregular and dishonorable behavior," replied the king with patience. "No, Father, you must punish her for her disobedience to your commands." "What command did she break, my son?" "She stole from your library, she used the eagle riders without permission, she acted in your name without consulting you, and above all, Father, she violated your express prohibition against getting involved with the human affairs of the outside world." "You speak wisely, my son, and yet..." "Yet nothing, Father. She has disrespected and dishonored you, our family, our people, and our land. She has taken up with humans, in particular that pseudo-druid and charlatan, Henjin Quilones, becoming inseparable from his side. I have even heard that she has fallen in love with him, and would mingle our high blood with his baseborn mud. Surely you cannot tolerate such an affront and insult to our kingdom, Father?" "I will speak to her, and shall keep my own counsel, yet you have given me much to think on, my son," said the king. "Now depart from us, and I will enter and speak to your sister alone." _________________________________________ "My daughter, what have you to say for yourself? Why do you bring yourself back here surrounded by such clouds of gossip and accusations of scandal?" "Scandal, Father?" asked Galaria, as though she had not overheard her father and brother speaking in the corridor. "Will you agree to renounce the disgusting human Henjin Quilones, never to see him again, to remain here in the palace of Istolia for the next century or two, never going out into the woods like a lowly wood elf, to serve your sister Falaria as her handmaid?" "Father, no!" "Then will you dishonor me and your whole kindred?" "No, Father, I helped to save our people, and all people of Historica, by stopping Raavage and bringing the High Ruler of Historica to the throne, joining as one with the many realms out there! I did nothing to dishonor our people or you!" "You disobeyed my commands and in so doing have dishonored me and your kindred. To atone for this, I ask you again: will you agree to renounce the disgusting human, Henjin..." "He is not disgusting, Father, and neither are most humans out there that I have met!" interrupted Galaria hotly. "So you do love him!" shouted the king accusingly. "I don...I...I...I said nothing like that, Father!" yelled Galaria, now angry past her ability to contain it. "But you do not deny it! You would mingle our pure blood with the corruption of humans!" "Father, please..." "No, Galaria, the time has come. Either accept the terms I have given you, or depart forever from this land, an exile from the Elves of Hesperia, banished until the end of time." "Father, don't..." "Choose." "If I must choose, Father, then I shall leave, and maybe someday you shall repent of your foolishness and allow me to come back. Until then, farewell. I shall take a ship from the harbor and my companions, including the 'disgusting' humans, and not come back." "You have chosen wrongly, Galaria, but you may have the ship. Do not count on my heart softening for you, however. Time only strengthens the resolve of a High Elf's oath." "Goodbye, then, Father." ____________________________________________________ ........................................................................................................ The latest installment of the Chronicles of Hesperia. Feel free to make any C&C, though, to be honest, the build came together in an hour or so, and is mostly just a filler build to move the story, so it does not do anything particularly nice or fancy. Better stuff is coming soon! Another chapter should be up later this week, since it has been built, photographed, and dismantled now for several months! It just needed this story to fill the gap first, and I have been concentrating on other builds.
  11. Waldred the War Master

    From a young age Waldred had an unhealthy interested in war. But now as his days grow short, he retires from his years of advising and training to live peacefully in a small tower. This has been busy gathering dust while I am rushing to finish my other Brick show mocs (not to mention a very, very large moc (Hype!)) I am very proud of this, to me the stone work is good, landscaping great and the Tudor/roof better. The roof was the most challenging part, but thanks to 40+ angled plates I was fine :P Credit for most, if not all techniques go to of course @Legonardo , who gave me the inspiration for this build a couple years ago at CBS (yup this thing has been floating around for two years). This and the rest of my mocs were on display at the Christchurch Brick Show last weekend, It was great seeing the public's opinion and they seemed to love the "Rapunzel" tower. Hope you enjoy and C&C needed.
  12. Lleidr Citadel

    This is the south gate of Lleidr Castle, a ruined fortress of central Avalonia, nestled in the eaves of a forest that has slowly grown over it. A band of outlaws has made it their abode, calling themselves the Merry Men of Lleidr. No one knows the history of the castle, as all records of it have vanished, and the bandits themselves do not care. They have repaired certain parts of the castle just enough to serve as living quarters and storehouses. They did not do an especially good job of repair, though; if they had been capable of an honest day's work at a building trade, after all, they would not have become bandits. A build for the Summer Joust 2017, Castle Collaboration category. My teammates, and fellow Merry Men of Lleidr, are @Henjin_Quilones (with his build The South Gate of Lleidr) and @ZlatanXVIGustaf (and his build(my favourite of the team) The Western Wall of Lleidr) . It was a lot of fun to make and I was surprised how large I could make the stone sections. The build may be a bit grey in places and I wish I did have more brick to make somethings (eg texturing) better but overall I am very pleased with it and I loved working within a team of other great builders. It was also amazing that we all agreed to do a castle that was right up my alley . Oh yea and the edit is pretty bad, I still haven't got the hang of it Hope you enjoy and C&C invited
  13. The South Gate of Lleidr Castle

    The South Gate of Lleidr Castle A freebuild for Avalonia This is the south gate of Lleidr Castle, a ruined fortress of central Avalonia, nestled in the eaves of a forest that has slowly grown over it. A band of outlaws has made it their abode, calling themselves the Merry Men of Lleidr. No one knows the history of the castle, as all records of it have vanished, and the bandits themselves do not care. They have repaired certain parts of the castle just enough to serve as living quarters and storehouses. They did not do an especially good job of repair, though; if they had been capable of an honest day's work at a building trade, after all, they would not have become bandits. __________________________________________________________________________________________________ ..................................................................................................................................................................................................... Thanks for looking! C&C welcome. This was built as an entry for the Castle Collaboration category of the Summer Joust 2017, with @ZlatanXVIGustaf and @The Maestro as teammates. When they get theirs posted here in the guilds, I recommend checking them out, or else go to Flickr and look if you are impatient, since their entries are superior to mine, and are the reason our team won. Mine just ensured we did not lose...
  14. Tíre Gatehouse

    Tíre Keep is one of the most valuable strongholds of Avalonia. Though it has never been occupied, it's real advantage is the lighthouse: Avalonian ships are ensured they will not get lost the Great Western Ocean. My second entry for the SJ castle collab. My team mates are @Henjin_Quilones and @TitusV and it was great working with them. I like it, it looks good but the Tudor work ruins it unfortunately. Make sure you check out the other teams entry, which will all be on the guilds soon. Hope you enjoy and C&C needed.
  15. My entry for round 4 of the Middle Earth LEGO Olympics, though I figured it fit quite well in Avalonia as well. I really enjoyed experimenting more with Elvish architecture with this build, as well as the colors and patterns. One of my main goals was to include as many non-square elements as I could, like the gardens, fountain and rounded base, which I think ended up turning out quite well. I’ll definitely be doing more elvish builds in the future, as it’s an incredibly fun style to build in and this ended up being one of my personal favorite builds of mine to date. Credit for how to fill in the rowboats goes to Simon NH, and Marcel V. and Vitreolum for the harp and lute respectively. More pictures on Brickbuilt. Thanks for looking, C&C appreciated
  16. Ep. 5 Laesonar Episode 6 Laelariel [Part 1] " … I've been looking for an order of knights of which I used to be... well... a member of and from which I got... well... separated. This bear heraldry is unmistakably theirs. Their major temple was empty when I got there and I later found out that those bandits had stolen everything from it. I gave in to rage and attacked them mindlessly. Pretty much as you did, Laesonar. Only, my adventure didn't end so well." Laesonar seemed distracted. The trees around were slowly turning smaller and the undergrowth younger. "… Laesonar?" "Yes. Sorry, Armin. I've been listening." "Is everything ok? You've been quiet for a while." "Sorry. I was initially focusing on this guy who's following us, but now I can smell something..." Krisly gave a start: "What? We're being followed?! Why didn't you tell us? How many are there?" She grabbed her bow, quickly reaching for an arrow. "You don't have to worry about it, it's just a kid." Armin was surprised: "What? Where? I haven't heard anything at all! And how can you tell it's just a boy?" "I can hear him clearly. He knows his steps, so he must be a local, yet he still has much to learn about the art of stealth. He's very young and keeps his distance – I say he's no threat." "Wow... Ok well, so why are you so concerned, master half-elf?" "I can smell something. Something... bad." Helga reached for her axe while approaching Armin. "What is it, Laesonar? Armin, can you smell anything?" "Actually, now that he mentions it, there is something of a stuffiness in the air..." "It's not just stuffiness, master paladin. Something is foul here. It's like something has been rotting for a while, something big." Elysande was worried now. "Wh... what? You mean like a dead beast or something?" "I'm afraid not, Ely, it's much bigger than that. I fear something really wrong has been going on here. Something really unnatural." That last word echoed in everyone's mind, placing a dark cloud over the once-happy little crowd. Laesonar noticed. "At least we're soon going to find out. The smell gets stronger at every step." Armin was impressed and confused at the same time "This man... How can his senses be so sharp? How many other things am I going to find out about him?" "… You're quite the unusual one, Laesonar, do you know that?" "As a matter of fact, I do. But I can never say that, else everyone thinks that I'm vain." Everyone smiled slightly. "If anything, I've managed to defuse the situation a bit.." thought Armin, while striding through the undergrowth. The forest was thinning out and the trees were slowly giving place to bushes when the little group could glimpse the border of the forest. Now they could all clearly detect that smell, getting stronger at every step, together with their anxiety. Unable to wait any longer, they all ran to get beyond the last trees, where a meadow opened up in front of them – in the distance, a small city rising up right next to... a huge hole in the ground. Gobsmacked, they all stared down the hill. Unsure at first, they started to understand. Helga dropped her axe, Krisly fell to her knees, unable to believe her eyes: "That... that's Laelariel! How is this possible?!" A shiver went down Armin's back. Laesonar's words echoed in his head "Something wrong and really unnatural". He swallowed heavily, then finally spoke up: "Holy Emptiness! What on earth happened to this lake??!" ---------------------------------- What can I say, guys? I'm not quite sure whether I'm happy with the result, actually. I guess the Summer Joust made me go a bit ambitious The perspective has been my worst enemy here, this was a great challenge. The lack of pieces didn't help, in particular I ran out of green cheese for the trees. This again made me fight with the perspective as the trees at the left were supposed to be closer and hence bigger than the ones at the back.. As for photography, I've taken a million shots and was never happy. At the end I surrendered to this one. I've got only this one, as the MOC was literally built around it and it was hence impossible to go for another angle - only a centimeter off and the scene wouldn't have been 'immersive' anymore. There had been another, slightly bigger, shot possible, hadn't I run out of medium blue too.. Anyway, I've enjoyed tried my hand at this kind of macro-micro-scale. I already had the idea of the empty lake and the Summer Joust provided the right occasion, at the right time, with the 'immersive scene' category. There are more critiques to make - I'll leave them to you guys I'm open to suggestion on how to improve the perspective. Hope you enjoy the finally-short episode too Thanks for reading ^^
  17. Honour the Fallen

    Honour the Fallen 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 Nyle added another stone to the pile and started looking around for another. - 'I think that is probably enough', he heard Sir Darby's voice behind him. Nyle looked down at the pile of rocks. Maybe it didn't need any more, but Nyle didn't emph:want to be done. He bent down to pick up a small pebble and threw it on the heap. - 'Kipp wouldn't care about the size of his cairn', said Harlon. 'He always lived in the moment, and now his moment is over. Just let him go.' Nyle imagined that comment might have earned Harlon a stern glance from Darby, but he knew it was true. This was all for him. For him to make peace with losing his brother. Nyle took one of Kipp's swords and wedged it into the cairn. It took him a while to get it to sit sturdy, but eventually it stuck. He then proceeded to tie Kipp's cape to the handle. The wind caught it a bit, giving it a small flutter at the edge. Nyle thought back to his childhood days. Kipp had always been the strong confident big brother who always knew how to handle every situation. He had always felt safe knowing Kipp was around. And then, Kipp had gone off to war. He clearly remembered the misty morning, seeing his brother pack his horse, and then flashing him a smile, ensuring him that things would be ok, before riding off. Nyle had been devastated for days. The colors had gone out of the world and the tasted bland. That feeling of being left behind, it was the same feeling he had right now. Kipp had left him behind. Again. - 'What do I do now, Kipp?', Nyle whispered to himself. 'The only reason I'm here is because this is because you were going. I wanted to learn from you. To be like you, the Great Kipp. But mostly, I didn't want you to be left behind again. And now I'm standing here, and you are gone. What do I do?' Harlon sighed. - 'How long is this going to take?', he asked. - 'He needs his time. He's not used to this', Darby replied. - 'Clearly. But we should get moving. Someone is clearly after us, and I'd feel much better to be one in the crowd in Newquay.' Darby didn't share Harlon's worries about the assassin, and neither did he think that life in Newquay would be much of an improvement to their current situation. But at least there would be some answers at their destination. For better of for worse. - 'Why did Kipp even bring him along? Now we will have to babysit him all the way to Newquay, and probably even after we arrive.', Harlon continued. Darby looked over at Nyle. - 'Yes, he is as green as they come, but if memory serves right, you have made confident soldiers out worse. Remember Tane?' Harlon smirked. - 'Yeah, I wouldn't do that again for anything.' Harlon drew a deep sigh. - 'But maybe you are right. We could make a man of him yet.' - 'We can at least try. But you are right, it is time to get going' - 'Nyle, we have to go', said Sir Darby. 'Me and Harlon will go and prepare the horses. Say what you need to say and get ready to leave. Sir Darby and Harlon started to make their way back through the fields. Nyle watched them leave. - 'Can I do it, Kipp?', he asked. 'Can I be you? The strong, confident warrior that everybody looks up to. I'm scared. Were you scared too? Heading out to battle not knowing what to face?' There was no answer. Nyle would have to figure this out by himself. His brother could not help him out anymore. It was up to him from now on. - 'I will be keeping your other sword', he said. 'Hopefully I can do it justice. Goodbye brother.' Nyle turned around and started making his way through the field back to camp. *** Been a while since my last GoH post now, but I certainly enjoy building in Avalonia :) This build was actually the result of taking the four corner modules for another, slightly bigger, build I'm working on and then adding the center greenery (plus the token tree of course ;)) to fit my GoH story. The grain technique is obviously very parts intensive and time consuming. I would have liked to make it even thicker, but ran out of tan bars. Gotta get more bars ;) The transition from grain to grass became a bit too abrupt and looks a bit unnatural. The planned build will have a stone wall or a fence as a divider so it should hopefully look better. Also, I might change the soil to be all dark tan rather than a mix of dark tan and reddish brown. Thanks for watching :)
  18. Part 1, Chapter 1 Part 1, Chapter 2 Part 1, Chapter 3 Part 1, Chapter 4 Part 1, Chapter 5 Part 2, Chapter 1 Nocturnian Civil War Saga: Ambushing the Spire Avalonian Countryside by Brandon Stark, on Flickr With the war in Nocturnus over and Raavage defeated, and the heir of Historica being safely on the throne, the weary soldiers of Historica began to make their way home. After nearly six years of endless war, there was finally peace, and there was no longer any threat to Historica. The wars had taken thousands of lives and left devastation that would remain for generations to come. Yet war had stopped, and that was something to be grateful for. Among one of the groups heading home were those led by Brandon and Lord Alric Drondil. The two had fought briefly together in Nocturnus, and though Brandon returned to Avalonia, he came back to help in the fight to install the heir to the throne. Also among the groups, besides lords who were allies of Brandon, was the Green Rider Maelyn, an elvish girl Brandon was nearly in love with. Though the two met in Avalonia, she followed Brandon to aid in the fight against evil at Cedrica. As they passed through the picturesque Avalonian countryside, many thoughts were on Brandon's mind. He had ascended to the lordship shortly before the Revolword War, and thus his tenure as Master of Whisperers on the Council was shaped primarily by the wars that shook the continent. Albion's leadership was mostly absent, and a few spies, such as Morgan Windspear, Warden of Albion, helped cause the deteriorating conditions in the city. While Brandon could do nothing against it, he kept Avalonia alive. It was something the Avalonian people would never realize. They protested the deteriorating conditions and widespread poverty caused by Spire spies, but took for granted that a few Avalonian lords, such as him, had kept them alive until this day. Brandon was aware that a new era ushered for new command and new leaders, and he was sure the high command would soon remove him from the position. However, he planned to resign to avoid the embarrassment. Brandon decided to forget about his thoughts and enjoy what time he had left in the position of relative comfort and luxury. He turned to Alric, who was riding next to him. Brandon had grown up in the province ruled by Alric's father, before he left to make his way in the world. However, fate brought the two together, and they had been friends ever since. Brandon had offered to help Alric reclaim his birthright, though was declined. "What are your plans, now, Alric? The long wars have finally ended." Like with many of the people he had seen lately, Alric looked as if a large stone block had been lifted off his back. Brandon guessed he must've looked the same, since he felt that way, though he wasn't able to see yet. "I'll probably just return to my county, settle down, and maybe start. I've had enough of all this war. It's nice to see some rest for the first time. We grew up in this; our lives have been shaped by all of this. Peace will surely be different, but it would surely be welcomed by all." "I haven't even been back to Dragonstone since the Algus invasion broke out. The province, I assume, does fine without me, but I will make it a priority to visit it again. I may even start a family once I can find a suitable wife." Brandon changed the topic a little. "It's a new era, and new eras call for new leaders. I doubt Albion will need me anymore." Lord Alric looked confused, trying to ponder the last words Brandon had said. "Pardon?" "My tenure as Master of Whisperers has been shaped by war. My policies and ideals are different than what the new leadership wants. They will see me ousted, though I will resign to spare myself the embarrassment." "And you won't try to resist? You worked hard for this position, right?" "If the leadership or the Avalonian people want different, let it be. I won't stop it. It's tiring, Alric. It's not easy. I would much rather be at home, in Dragonstone, with a family." Lord Alric didn't look disappointed, nor happy. He just responded with a simple sentence. "I see then. I wish you the best of luck, whatever paths you may take."
  19. Ep. 4 Laesonar Episode 5 Healing Wounds The sunset was approaching as the fresh air of the forest turned chilly on Laesonar’s face, while the half-orc’s body on his back started to become heavy after the long march. He looked up towards the top of the steep hill they were climbing; Armin wasn’t exactly having such a great time either carrying his load. “You do have a thing for shields, don’t you, master paladin?” “For these shields in particular, I most certainly do.” He replied smiling, keeping his secret. “Say, do you always dress purple or is it a special occasion?” “Do I have to gather that you don’t like such colour?” “On the contrary, it happens to be my favourite. I just wouldn’t wear it myself.” “I see.” He looked for the words in his head. “The peaceful stability of the blue and the restless passion of the red merge together and turn into purple – a splendid example of balance between opposites.” Laesonar smiled “This guy is just the best” he thought, right before Helga’s voice reached his ears: “We’re here!” The top of the hill was flat, with a small clearing between rocks and trees. “You’ve been here recently, haven’t you, ladies?” “We have. From this height we can easily keep the surroundings under control, while the forest is dense enough to start a fire without worrying about being spotted.” “It’s unlikely that they will follow us tonight.” Said Armin while approaching the fainted half-orc. “Laesonar, can you please help me here? I want to check her wounds. Hmm. Not too bad after all, she should be better soon. Now, all I have to do is concentrating on her wounds and on my will to heal them, draw energy upon…” Armin’s words faded away in Laesonar’s head. What was happening? He knew those words. He had heard them before and he could hear them again right now in his head, as everything around him became silent. He could see Armin moving his lips, but no, that wasn’t his voice. It was a soothing, beloved voice. “What is this? Is it some kind of memory?” Dazed, he approached Armin, who was moving his hands above the half-orc’s body. Suddenly, an image in his head – skinny hands, feminine lips – right before Armin’s voice could reach him again: “… until the energy is finally released.” A pale blue light glowed under the half-orc’s body. Armin took a deep breath. “Armin… I… I…” “What is it, Laesonar?” He didn’t answer. Instead, he recalled those instructions in his head, concentrating, moving his hands as Armin had just done. Finally, the same blue light glowed again. It followed a moment of silence. Everyone was astonished. Krisly broke the silence first: “Laesonar… Can… Can you heal wounds?!” “It looks like I can… I guess I had just forgotten about it…” Armin was bowled over. “How… Where did you learn that?” “I have no idea… You must’ve triggered something, perhaps a memory. I heard a voice in my head and…” The half-orc was recovering her senses, flinching, coughing loudly, trying to stand up. Armin and Laesonar pushed her back down on the floor. “Let me go you b#######! I won’t tell you anything at all!”** [**translated from Orcish] “It’s ok, it’s ok! We’re going to help you. Wait, don’t move! You’re wounded…!”** “Let me go! I’m gonna…”** She opened her eyes. Realising the situation, she stopped for a moment, then started to struggle again. “Who are you? Let me go!”** “It’s ok, we’re friends, we’re going to help you. Now calm down beautiful, you’re hurt!”** Surprised to hear her language, she stopped moving. Gasping, she stared at Laesonar. “Yes, good. I’m going to get you some water. Do you speak the Common language?”** Armin helped her to sit up. She grunted and held her belly, looking around. “Who are you people?” “My name is Laesonar. It’s nice to see that you feel better. These are Armin, Helga, Krisly, Elysande and… Yes, come to think of it, what’s your name, old man?” The old man came closer, approaching the half-orc. “Hello, Gruusha.” The half-orc grunted “Daniau? Where are we? What happened? Who are these people?” “Long story short, the bandits under Digby put us in chains. These people killed them all and freed us. As for why they did it, we shall have to ask them.” Helga picked up some wood “We could all do with a bit of rest, some food and some water. As for us, the chieftain’s personal guard was the man who killed my brother. I wanted revenge and Laesonar here accepted to help me, that’s why we attacked those bandits.” The old man sat down “The chieftain, uh? You must be referring to Digby the Lunatic. That piece of s###!” The half-orc grunted in unison. Armin seemed interested to know more: “Did you know him, old man?” “I did. My name is Daniau Guernon. I’m the head of the merchants’ guild in Weastioven, as well as one of the members of the city’s High Council. Digby was the chieftain of his group, but the rumours had him working under someone else. What I know is that he definitely got some help when taking over my city. I opposed him and they made me a prisoner.” “Which kind of help did he get?” “Troops, especially archers. But also goblin and orc soldiers.” At these words the half-orc grunted angrily and then moaned with pain, still holding her belly. Armin approached her, checking her wounds: “Take it easy, my lady. You haven’t fully recovered yet. Your name is Gruusha, right? Do you know those orc soldiers?” She shook her head “No. My people don’t normally have much to do with Orcs as they always try and make us slaves, so we’re always on the lookout. The bandits probably had the same intention so they caught me and wanted me to tell them where my people are. I didn’t spit a single word! That’s also why I was in Weastioven. I was sent by my chieftain to find out more about these rumours while looking for a commercial agreement with the merchants there. Now that Laelariel is out of the game, my people need new partners to exchange our goods with.” Krisly gave a start “What do you mean with ‘Laelariel is out of the game’? I have friends there!” Daniau spoke up first: “Laelariel thrived thanks to the fish trade. We, in Weastioven, were one of its best partners, buying fish and selling our salt, which they used to preserve the fish. Unfortunately, these half-orcs don’t seem to get the importance of such a product.” Gruusha grunted loudly “I’ve already told you, Daniau, we won’t exchange our stuff for salt! We don’t need salt!” Krisly pressed Daniau “Hang on! What happened to Laelariel then?” “I do not know. The trade simply stopped. Because of the civil wars, drows, bandits and so on, we haven’t been able to go and verify in person yet.” “Then we should all go there first thing in the morning!” Krisly’s suggestion took everyone by surprise. Gruusha broke the silence first, followed by Daniau “No. I have to go back to my people.” “Same here, now that Digby and few of his best men have died, it shouldn’t be hard for us to take the city back. I need to be there as soon as possible.” “Then what about you, Laesonar? What are your plans now?” The half-elf had remained silent so far, being more interested in the food. “So, you ladies want to go and check out this Laelariel place, uh? – Gnam gnam – You said there’s fish, but no salt, so I gather there must be a river or something?” “Yes, there’s also a big lake.” “Well I don’t see why not. I like fish. And after all, I haven’t found out how I got into this forest yet.” Armin was surprised at these words. Elysande noticed: “Laesonar has lost some of his memories. Apparently, he appeared in this forest few days ago, but doesn’t know how, nor why.” Armin watched Laesonar eating for a moment, thinking about what little he knew about him. He recalled in his mind Laesonar’s jump during the battle, his approval of his words, his newly rediscovered ability to heal wounds. He smiled slightly “Well, master half-elf, it looks like you’re full of surprises.” “Am I?” “You’re quite the warrior, you can heal wounds but you say you don’t know how you learned and now your memory… Oh, and you can speak Orcish?” “Ah, right. Well, not as much as I’d like to, actually. But what about you, master paladin? You haven’t told us about those shields yet.” “That’s true. Well, I’d be honoured to join you and the ladies for this Laelariel mission, if you’d allow me?” “It would be my pleasure, indeed. What do you ladies think?” Helga got visibly excited “It would be awesome!” “Very well. So we shall go and see this lake. In this case, I’m going to have time to tell you about those shields during the march, am I not?” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Full MOC:
  20. Watchtower of Eolas

    In times of need, the watchtowers of Eolas are manned to protect and give spirit to the nearby villages. I was having a look down my stream and I realized I had only made one round tower. So feeling that it was compulsory to have a go at another I came up with this. I think the result was much better than I had planned and the landscape was a bit of an experiment but I am really happy with the end look. Flowers and vines make things look pretty Hope you enjoy and C&C needed.
  21. Historica United A story illustrated by builds, for Category C of Challenge V of Book II. Like most of the Category C entries, this is a picture- and story-heavy post, so it may take some time to get through. I hope it will be worth your while. Part I: In the Halls of Hesperia The story of the beginning of the end has been told elsewhere, in the tales of the build-bards of old, of intrigue, murder, magical items, quests, and alliances. Thus this is not the beginning of the end, but the beginning of the end of the end, if you follow. And the beginning of the end of the end begins in one of the furthest corners of Historica, in the far west of Avalonia, in one of the last remaining pockets of High Elves in the known world, the Kingdom of Hesperia. High Elves seldom get involved with the affairs of men, yet in times of the greatest peril they will venture forth with their glittering array of armor and gilded weapons. This is one of those times, with the threat of Raavage and his magically-unleashed threats of doom for all the living, and yet it is not so simple for the King of Hesperia, Fingolë the Golden. In his halls in his summer palace, at Istolia, he met with his trusted advisers, his two eldest children, Falaria and Fingalad. Suddenly, ignoring his guards, his youngest daughter, Galaria, and several others burst in. "Father," cried Galaria. "You must listen to me!" "And why should he listen to a child as rude as you?" retorted Falaria, speaking in place of her father, who sat on the throne glowering at his impetuous, almost wood-elf daughter. "Surely you have heard the message that Celdrian has brought?" said Galaria, gesturing to the blue-clad Eagle-Rider beside her. "Of course I have," spoke the king. "But neither he nor you were invited to this meeting, were you? And is that a human in my presence?" "Yes, Father, it is. This is Henjin Quilones, a knight of the Druidi Order, whom I found while on patrol in the forest. You also saw the fireball flying through the sky, did you not? That was his arrival, and the sign that the fulfillment of the prophecy is at hand. The true king of all Historica returns!" "Bah!" exclaimed the king. "A druid he may be, or perhaps not. I have no use for humans, nor dwarves, nor even lowly wood-elves. Begone from my presence! And think well before coming before me again uninvited, Galaria, my daughter." "May we have permission to search the library of the palace here, Father?" Galaria asked before leaving. "Search all you want, just do not disturb my councils again!" shouted Fingolë. __________________ "A charming fellow, your father," said Henjin when they were safely in the library. "Indeed," agreed Galaria. "I would like to say that he takes some getting used to, but even after four hundred years I am still not used to his arrogance and pride. He is obsessed with the proper place of the High Elves, and as the years go by he thinks less and less about what is good and true and beautiful in the universe, still less about the fate of Historica." "Are you sure this is the proper section of the library, Galaria?" asked Henjin. "These stacks are palatial; I have never seen such books and scrolls in my life." "Well, whatever else can be said of my father, he takes it very seriously to have a record of every book, parchment, decree, spell, recipe, or anything else ever written in the four lands, and beyond, in his libraries. There are plenty of maps here, but which is the correct one?" "We need something referring to a helm, the Necromancer's Helm," chimed in Celdrian, the messenger, who had joined them in their search. "I thought there was just a battle over helms a few years back," said Yavenna, Galaria's most-trusted elf-scout. "That was the Elemental Helm, this is the Necromancer's Helm," corrected Galaria. "Very different, though both helms." A shout came from the balcony level and the others saw Henjin waving a tattered scrap of parchment over the railing. "I have found it! This scrap tells of the location of the Necromancer's Helm!" "Quickly, then, let us compare it to the maps and mark the place where the Helm may be found," said Galaria. "Then what?" asked Yavenna. "What do we do when we know where the Helm is?" The group fell silent. They had not thought that far ahead. Henjin joined them below and they stood around the table in the library, pondering. "We need some way of neutralizing the magic of the Helm, I think; something to control the arcane flows that radiate out from a magical artefact like that." Celdrian looked up at the druid in surprise. "Did you say 'arcane flows'?" This time it was Henjin's turn to look surprised. "Yes, I did. Why?" Celdrian smiled. "I know just the people who specialize in the regulation of arcane matters, on a very practical and technical level. Make a copy of the map and everything we know about the Helm, and I will bring it to Zotharith and Onicimus; they will know what to do." "We also need to have the armies of the various guilds ready to fight, in a unified front against our different, and yet united, enemies," said Galaria. "I will bring letters to leading men in the guilds, telling them where to bring their troops and when, while I am on my way to deliver the map to Zotharith," said Celdrian. "Aeriglaaac flies faster than the wind, so we can have it done in no time." "When you are done, return here and collect us," added Galaria. "We still need to make sure the True King can retake his throne." Part II: Heroes Assemble And so Celdrian mounted on Aeriglaaac the Great Eagle and visited the four guilds, bringing messages to leaders far and wide. As he flew eastward over the forests and plains of Avalonia, he stopped in Eolas first, to deliver the message to the Maestro: Soon he met deGothia in the halls of Sionnach: Then he flew north across the mountains of Mitgardia and visited Fin of Terydian on the edges of the tundra: Sir Glorfindel was next, near the gates of Nordheim: Then the mighty eagle flew on the back of the North Wind, faster than the currents of aether, and was soon in the lands of the south, in the Guild of Kaliphlin, where he stopped in Barqa to meet the half-elf Lord Gideon: Katoren was next, with the Lord Aymeri greeting him by the gate: Finally he flew further east to Nocturnus, and visited Lord Vladivus at Shadowmere: A stop in the lowlands near the Reach allowed him to visit Gal-Turok, Leader of the Goblin Clans: After many miles, though only a few hours aloft, Celdrian and Aeriglaaac circled down over Zotharith. Part III: Zotharith Council Meeting In Zotharith, a council meeting was underway, with Exetrius standing in for his father, Onicimus, who was busy tinkering with his gadgets far beneath the city. That such an inexperienced and low-ranking member of the Order should be leading a meeting rankled some in attendance, but all held their tongues out of respect for their leader's wishes. Exetrius called them to order. "If we could find the Helm, my father thinks that we have both the manpower and the technical knowledge to disable the Helm and its magics," the white-haired mage said. "But what of Raavage?" said one of the others in attendance, General Zeruko Urima. "My armies are well-trained and well-equipped, but I am not sure they are ready to face the dreadful power that is Lord Raavage." "Even Raavage cannot defeat an entire army of warrior-mages, General," replied Exetrius. "We will bring a combination of your warriors and some of our best mages, so that we shall not fail. We will also be provided with several of the arcane-regulation devices that link up to the core that my father has been building, which should, if the calculations are correct, neutralize the artefact entirely. If only we knew where it was!" At that moment, Celdrian knocked at the door and entered. "I think I can help you there, young Exetrius," said the elf-messenger. "My friends have pored over the extensive libraries of Hesperia and discovered the location of the Helm you seek. They have included instructions in that letter, and marked the place here on the map in red." "Thank you, Celdrian, and may the wind be ever under Aeriglaaac's wings." "May your mana never run short," said the elf as he bowed out. "We start tonight!" cried Exetrius after the elf had left. "We cannot afford to waste even one day in this quest, since Raavage has already had several days' head start. Let us go!" Part IV: The Great Battle of Historica While the Zotharians were travelling to the location deep beneath the Rakath Mountains that held the Necromancer's Helm, the armies of Historica were on the march, too. From every guild, from every race and people, the armies came forth. The enemies of the guilds also marched forth, drawn by the reports of spies that the guilds were gathering. And so the battles were fought between the armies of the four guilds and their deepest enemies, enemies united behind the banner of the Black Spire. The Battle of the Moruth Highlands In Nocturnus, Gal-Turok led his goblin armies in the charge in the Battle of the Moruth Highlands, joined by the armies of Anfauglir, Lord Vladivus, Anzar the Dragon Master, and Lord Jorrith, among others. The press of black horses against the charging Uruks of the Hand of Corruption carried the day, despite the chanting of witches giving the Uruks strength. The charge was glorious and valiant, and the army of the Resistance won the battle, scattering the remaining Uruks in every direction, to be picked off one by one. The Battle of the Shifting Oasis In Kaliphlin, it was the Barqan fire that won the day, burning through the armor and flesh of the High Council troops who had joined with the Spire. Not all had, and many within Kaliphlin chose not to fight at all, as the scars of the civil war were still too fresh; but those patriots who desired peace and the return of the True King to Cedrica bared their blades and fought with those who wished for dissension. In the shifting sand dunes outside of the famed Shifting Oasis, the two armies met, and the High Council soldiers, and the occasional orc, were routed. Led by soldiers of the Desert King, Barqa, Katoren, and Khadira, the armies loyal to the cause of the True King rode off victorious. The Battle of Crystal Tarn In Mitgardia, the Algus were stopped once and for all at the Battle of Crystal Tarn, when the Mitgardian men, led by Sir Glorfindel, Lord Fin, Sir Gunman, and Davok Shieldbasher, among other great northern heroes, and an army of dwarves met the onrush of the mysterious ice-people. Despite the blasts of cold and ice launched by the sorceresses of the Algus, the Mitgardians stood strong with their dragon-forged steel and destroyed their enemies. The Battle of Green Leaf Pass In Avalonia, the Drow armies were annihilated at the Battle of Green Leaf Pass, with not a twisted dark elf left alive. The Flight of Dragons, led by Lords de Gothia and Alric Drondil, together with the Maestro and Brandon Stark, some elves, forest men, and one strange half-elf, charged up the pass and broke through the Drow lines, and Laesonar did the rest with a few well-placed leaps and swings of his katanas. The back of the Drow army was broken, and it would be years before they could muster another army and pose a threat to anyone. All of the free peoples of Historica were participants in the Great Battle for Historica, fought on many different fields but all joined together in one spirit. Part V: The Chamber of the Necromancer Meanwhile, beneath the Rakath Mountains, Lord Raavage finally reached the crypt that held the Necromancers helm. The only problem was that instead of one helm, there were eight. "Which one is the Helm I seek?" Raavage muttered. "Which one is it?" He reached out to first one, then another. Each felt distinctly magical, but he could not tell which was which. Behind him he heard a noise, which caused him to turn around to see who had made it past his guards. It was those infernal Zotharians, the mages who refused to join him despite his many threats. No matter. They would be dealt with once he had the Helm. "Raavage!" the white-haired one in the front shouted at him across the chamber. "Step away from the Helms and we will not hurt you." "Ha!" snorted Raavage. "Hurt me? You? A half-grown, 39th-ranked mage? Did Zotharith have no one better to send? Did Daddy not want to come himself, so he sends his little runt in his place?" "I am not alone, Raavage, as you can see. I have behind me some much more powerful mages than I, and what is more, I have the knowledge of which Helm you seek, which, from the looks of it, you lack." Raavage growled. "How can you be so sure, Little Mage? Did Daddy tell you?" "No, an Avalonian druid and elf princess did, after studying the lore available in their library. It is really quite amazing what you can learn if you read, I hear. Not that you would ever bother with such mundane matters yourself, I am sure, being a big, tough beast like you are." "Grr! Which helm is it, Zotharian?" "The helm you seek will call out to you, if you listen. But be warned, Raavage, the lore says that if you choose the wrong Helm, it will destroy you utterly." "Are all of these fake, then?" growled Raavage. "Except the one real one?" "No, they are Helms of different powers, but they are not powers for the likes of you and me to tamper with." Raavage turned his back on Exetrius and felt along the alcoves with his magical intuition, seeking the call that the Zotharian had said he would feel. He was not sure why he felt that the mage was trustworthy, at least in this matter, since he seldom trusted anyone for anything, but he did. At last, feeling over the second-to-last helm, he felt a small tug. Nothing much, nothing he would have noticed if he were not on high alert, but it was there. He lifted down the helm and began to laugh. "The power is mine! After I don the Helm, I shall slay all of you and raise you back up, and you shall be my undead slaves!" He put on the helm, still laughing. But his laughter soon turned to a scream, as the powers of the helm he had donned began to age him and rip apart the fiber of his being. His fur turned grey, and then white, and then all his flesh wasted away until he had nothing but a skeleton remaining. The body of Lord Raavage fell to the ground, lifeless, his soul sucked from him by the Helm he had chosen. Even the bones vanished, leaving nothing but the Helm and the armor of the once-mighty lord. Exetrius and two of his companions came forward, carrying arcane devices. "It worked, just like you said it would," one said. "All we had to do was use the device you are holding to alter the flow from that helm just enough to make him choose it," Exetrius said. "It was rather simple after all." "What does the other device do?" said the other. "That will close up this cavern and lock it into another dimension, inaccessible to Historicans again. Let's get out of here and activate the device. Raavage is defeated." Part VI: The Throneroom of Cedrica "Are you sure the King is in here?" asked Henjin as they stood outside the door. It had been recently repaired, it seemed, and the mortar was barely set around the new hinges. There had been no king in these halls for years, and some work had been necessary to get things back in order. "Yes," said Celdrian. "The King is in here, as everyone has told us." "Very well, let us enter." To Henjin's surprise, however, it was not a King who sat upon the golden throne, but a Queen. A young, very beautiful queen. "Welcome, my friends," the Queen said in a gentle, mellifluous voice. She stood up and came forward to greet them, and they bowed before her. Henjin proffered his sword to her, and she accepted it kindly. "Your sword, Knight Henjin Quilones, of the Druidi Order, I accept and return to you. Bear it well, for me, Ylspeth, your queen, and may you always fight for the cause of truth, justice, and right." "I shall, my queen, Your Highness." "You have done me great favor by bearing tidings to my people, allowing our armies to overcome on the field of battle, and our mages to overcome in the realm of the arcane," continued the Queen. "I shall bestow upon you whatsoever you wish to show my gratitude." "I wish nothing, my Liege, save to be counted among those loyal to you," said Henjin. "That, and I would like to know how you came to be on the throne, alive, when all the rest of your family is dead." Queen Ylspeth laughed, and it sounded like clear water flowing over rocks, like the the honeyed song of birds. "I shall tell you, then, Druid Henjin, but not here. I am parched, and the wine here has been awful without the proper government in place. Do you know the Grand Griffon Tavern? The proprietor, Master Gabbold, is an old friend of mine, and he keeps all the best in his cellars. Let us go thither and talk over some drinks." "Do you mind if I bring a few friends?" asked Henjin. "Not at all! The more the merrier!" Part VII: At the Grand Griffon Tavern "When Henjin said a few friends, I assumed he meant a few friends," said Queen Ylspeth to Princess Galaria as they were pressed by the bodies of many sweaty warriors fresh from battle. "Well, he has made connection with many folk from the different parts of the kingdom, so getting to know them all will be helpful for you," said Galaria. "In fact, Your Highness, in this room are many of the most important figures in your kingdom, all eager to hear your tale." A voice somewhere in the room shouted, "Three cheers for Queen Ylspeth!" A loud cheer erupted from many voices. Then the room grew silent. "Thank you all for joining us here. Master Gabbold will be happy to serve you whatever beverage you like, and the tab is on me, so do not stint yourself. Aymeri, I see you drinking tea, you can get something stronger if you like. Lord Vlad, O-positive? Good. Many of you are wondering just how I came to be here. My father, the late king, was killed by Raavage soon after Revolword was deposed; the rescue party came too late. I, either by good fortune or bad, was away from Cedrica at the time; indeed, I was away from Historica at the time. I was aboard one of my father's ships, sailing from distant land to distant land, exploring the different islands, meeting new peoples. I hope that all of you have a chance to do so someday, as the world is so much larger than you think. It was my father who sent me, perhaps realizing the danger the kingdom was about to face, on my sixteenth birthday off to sea. One day, on an island far, far from here, away off west, I came across news of my father's murder. I wondered about the fate of my brother, fearing the worst, and the worst was confirmed at another stop. My mother, too, was cruelly butchered at the hands of Raavage. Knowing that I was not prepared to rule, and that to come back then would be suicide, I stayed at a western island, training with an order of warrior monks. They taught me their wisdom, gave me access to their library, and trained me in their manner of combat. When I was judged to be proficient, nay, a master of both wisdom and war, I came back. It seems I was just in time to inspire the last forces of good to make a stand, and to do so with success. My eternal thanks to you, my brave warriors, for all you have done. I am forever in your debt." When the queen had finished, those in attendance gave another loud cheer and called for another round. Lord Gideon, who had arrived late after grooming his horse, got his drink. And as the talk went on, Laesonar, who had never moved far from the queen, finally managed to strike up a conversation with her. "So, Queen Ylspeth, are you seeing anyone?" "Not currently, no," she replied. "But surely you will need heirs to the throne, right?" the half-elf persisted, putting out the vibe. "I suppose so, yes, but I have not yet met the right man." "You have met me, now," he said with a cheeky grin and a wink. "I am sure I shall have hordes of suitors lining up. Perhaps I shall hold a joust of some kind, or a contest, to winnow down the candidates?" The end. ________________________________ ................................................................ Wow, so if you read the whole thing, good for you, and thank you! I hope you appreciated it and enjoyed it. More pictures can be found on my Flickr page, especially of the battles. C&C is of course welcome. I tried my best, with the parts I had, to make as many sigfigs as I could, but I know that I missed many, many figs of some really excellent builders. Please take no offense at any omissions, as I assure you that no one was left out on purpose. I for one am glad this contest is over now, and I can go back to regular, leisurely building. And spending time with my family! If this wins, by the way, Queen Ylspeth can be made easily with either Rey's face (from Star Wars: TFA, for fleshies) or Wyldstyle's face (from The LEGO Movie, for yellows) with Barbara Gordon's hair from The LEGO Batman Movie. I tried to pick elements that are currently available from relatively cheap sets (the hair is found in a CMF, for example,and Rey's speeder was only $20US) that will continue to be available (with more SW and another TLM in the works) for a while, while still being distinctive.
  22. (due to lack of time, I post this as a freebuild instead of Categorie C of our last challanges) Is this the end of this Era? Hemresa, Narbilu and his men was preparing for the final battle with the Spire. The Tower of Doom was set to travel to the north east corner of their controlled land to wipe away their border post to give access to the army to finish the job. One last good night of sleep before the journey. In the midst of the night a large explosion woke everybody up. A mushroom cloud lit up the square where the Tower of Doom used to be standing. Everyone, not caught by the explosion, rushed towards the burning structure. The fire and destruction was massive. everyone was there except their leader, Narbilu. An observant officer noticed that and send two guards to his tents, when the church bells started to sound. Odd for this time of night and even stranger, because everyone was watching the blazing tower. The officer send two other guards to check it out. When the two entered the church, a gruesome scene wrote a nightmare in their memories. The Lord of Hemresa was nailed to the main cross behind the altar. The Spire was one step ahead of them, was this their victory? Was this the end of Historica as we know it? - to be continued -
  23. Raavage's secret weakness Somewhere in the surrounding of Cedrica, after he met the main heroes of Historica, the true heir of the Throne prepaed the most difficult part of his plan to defeat Raavage and the Spire... He's discretly rebuilt an old fort at the limit of the border between Avalonia and the Cedrica territory. It is at this Fort he called some vaillant heroes from all the Guilds ! First; a ranger from Avalonia : Then, a Serpentar Druid from Nocturnus, Followed by a Cimetar bearer from Kaliphlin, And finally, a Dwarf Hammer Warrior from Midgardia. They all gathered at the fortress without knowing who the True King was... What a surprise ! The King, the Heir, the Future leader of all the Guilds is a CHILD ?! - My dear heroes ! My dear Friends ! I am guarranting you I am ready for this battle and with your help, we will use the only chance we will get to catch Raavage from the Spire ! The only opportunity we can seize, is obvious ! The time when he will go out of the Spire to collect his precious Helmet of Power ! At this time, we will destroy his guard, seize him and finally destroy him for ever ! - But... How!? Asked all the heroes. - Thanks to my prisoner ! It appeared the King's Heir captured a strange creature who exchanged its freedom to betrail Raavage... The hideous creature told the little boy Raavage secret weak point ! It did not took long time to Raavage to move to the supposed location of the Helmet in a Kaliphlinite Oasis. The rare guards around were not a problem for the groups of heroes from all the 4 Guilds to defeat ! The main problem was Raavage and his guard inside an old ruin and gathered around the Helmet on its Pedestal ! Raavage took the Helmet. And he wore it imediately ! - NO ! Yelled the little Heir ! You FOUL ! The Helmet is secured ! He had just enough the time to finish the sentence than a Monstruous tentacled beast rose from the soil and torn appart everyone who stood at range ! Finally it seemed the main damaged was for the Skeletons but the Ravage guard stood well and a terrible battle began ! Here, the Algus repelling the spells from the Druids ! There, the Heavy armored warriors clashing with the best Midgardian steel ! And Raavage, powerful than never ! But... The little King slipped behind him with the strange creature he used against Raavage and put an apple in front of the nose of the Spire leader who started to sneeze and caugh loudly, enough to fall unarmed at the mercy of the boy !! - Yes ! You've guessed it ! Raavage is dangerously allergic to apples ! We cast him away just with this fruit ! A good king, is always the wisest ! THE END
  24. Oswald the Ordinary

    Oswald strives to be ordinary. You think all wizard workshops are rickety and colourful? Well you are wrong there my friend. For you have obviously never meet Oswald, who is the one wizard in all the land who prefers the laws of gravity to imagination. Entry for R1 of the LCBTC. Hello everybody, its been a while. And it may seem I have been rather inactive but in truth I have been busy building things that just cannot be posted yet... I don't mind this, it's not really a wizards workshop that much. No bright colours and wonky angles (hense the name). Oh well, hopefully i will do better next round (if I get through that is :p) Hope you enjoy and C&C Needed.
  25. [MOC] Out for a Stroll

    Just a little build that came out of a tablescrap. The reeds were inspired by one of Jonas Obermaier's latest builds (see it here), though I had to improvise the technique a bit.