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Found 14 results

  1. The road from Breshaun to Eltina, June 620, Le Bellan Le Bellan, the most prestigious colony of the Empire of Light, represents the beating heart of Oleander commercial routes. In spite of this, however, the infrastructures of the island are quite old, absolutely insufficient for the huge traffic of people and goods moving every day from Breshaun to Eltina and vice versa. The ancient trail of compacted earth, with small wooden bridges and even a couple of river crossings, was built decades ago, in a completely different time: a road for a couple of reckless riders, some wondering merchants and a few hunters... definitely not enough for the continuous flow of heavy carriages transporting wood and sugar from the inland, silver and wine from Breshaun outskirts, but also all kinds of goods crafted or imported in those bustling cities. And, obviously, it's not enough for the movement of naval artillery from Breshaun foundries to Eltina shipyards, where the largest and most beautiful ships of all the Brick Seas are built. As often happens in the colonies, the difficult task of building a road, a bridge or even one of the few tunnels cutting the mountains is done by the army, rather than by civilians. While it may seem a dull manual job, building a road that will last more than the first hurricane requires knowledge and expertise. Mile after mile, the red flags will be replaced by the milestones, sand and crushed stones will give way to a regular, tidy pavement. While most of the men are simple diggers and bricklayers, the officers are expert engineers, who attended Breshaun military school: the use of measuring tools and the difficult calculations needed, in fact, require several years of studies and remarkable skills. The Ingènieurs du roi are often employed in similar civilian tasks, but also in the construction and repairing of military structures or fortifications. This, however, shouldn't deceive you: if the situation requires, military engineers must operate under enemy fire, opening a safe passage across obstacles or even assaulting fortifications. If destroying a barricade or building a bridge requires the... well... dislodgement of enemy soldiers, the Oleander military engineers are ready for that! A quick build to show my version of Oleander sappers. Soon you'll find more about them in the Grand Military Encyclopedia.
  2. Breshaun, May 620, Le Bellan Renè Duchamp walked towards the Colonial Admiralty in Breshaun. Only one wing of the large building was already operative; soon, however, it would have become one of the most important administrative buildings of the New World, coordinating the activity of La Royale with merchant fleets, collecting the newly chartered islands in cartographic atlases, gathering and providing updated information about safe harbors and pirate raids... Renè, however, was there for a different reason: even the most enterprising and daring Oleanders must submit themselves to a certain ballast of bureaucracy. During the last years, the Rimbaud family had launched several ships, and some "administrative procedures" were required... in other words, piles of papers, taxes to pay and boring discussions with a row of officials! The correct term in bureaucratic language was "Request of authorization for setting up a commercial or military fleet above the limit accepted for private citizens", but the meaning of that was actually quite simple: an authorization was required for owning more ships, more sailors and more cannons. A little price to pay, but also a great success for the Rimbaud Family, that a few months ago only owned a little fishing boat! Well, this time paying taxes seemed almost a success... definitely something strange! I used a work in progress build that, likely will require a lot of time and a lot of bricklinking for completion, for my ship limit increase build. With Le Phénix, the Scamander and the Tartarus, in fact, I crossed my default ship limit of 10.
  3. The mysteries connected to the Malto affair had roused many a detective in Terra Nova, and amongst those the renowned Corlander investigator, Herlock Sholmes and his assistant Dr. John Hudson. This had led to a month of investigations and they were now discussing their findings in the office in Miller Street 2b, Arlinsport "First things first, Sholmes. The very heart of the mystery - the explosion." Dr. Hudson said. "I find myself stumped - who would do such a heinous thing?" "Elementary, my dear Hudson. Do you remember what the informant in Fuerte Unido told us?" "Of course - a group of merchants had met with a... contractor believed to be the saboteur... But he could not tell us of what they had spoken." Hudson exclaimed with a raised brow. "But what motive would those traders have? To stifle a competitor?" "Ach, the WTC hardly represents a threat to the Eslandian TC's." Sholmes interjected. "Remember the Eslandian reaction: It was the perfect excuse for them to send in troops." "Are you suggesting that Eslandola would cause such a tragedy for mere geopolitical gain?" Hudson protested. "It was most convienient, was it not? But no, there is no evidence whatsoever for an official act of subterfuge." Sholmes said, shaking his head. "But consider the nationalist zealotry of ambitious individuals, who understood enough to know that the official response would be to march in troops." "But they would surely have predicted that Bradley's troops would deny them access? I must confess that I am most sceptical, Herlock." "It is the only explanation that fits the evidence, dr. Hudson, and when you have excluded the impossible, what is left, however implausible, must be the truth!" He said with great conviction. "As to Bradley's reaction, the Eslandians are a sadly pragmatical bunch, very unaccustomed to the firmness of principle typical for Corlanders. I doubt they ever anticipated the insistence of our troops." "So Eslandians blew up the Wolf's Blood?" "It must be so." Hudson pondered for a moment, turning over the evidence in his head. It would seem that no other chain of event would explain the meeting between the saboteur and the Eslandian merchants. And who else had a motive for the explosion? It really was all too convenient for the Eslandians... Looking back at Sholmes, Hudson said triumphantly: "But why should the Eslandians knock Lorenzini on the head and prevent his escape? Haha!" "Well, to ensure his prosecution, surely." Sholmes retorted dryly, taking down Hudson's mood significantly. "However, nothing points to that - as you may remember, they aided his escape. In fact, we know very well they were not behind the assault!" "But..." "May I remind you of our findings in Arlinsport?" "Yeeeeeesssss?..." The doctor said, recollecting himself. "The drunken guard, you mean?" "The drunken guard who told us of Pennington's agent indeed! Recount, please." "I must have forgotten. An agent purportedly in Viscount Pennington's service is to have met with a mercenary." Hudson remembered. "A mercenary which was to go to Malto to thwart Consul Montoya's efforts with any means possible, I believe." "Indeed - and what better way than to assault Lorenzini, the uniting figure of the populace? It could easily have led to unrest, and discontent with the negotiations, undermining Montoya. And further, it was likely to lead to Lorenzini being incarcerated and prosecuted by the Eslandians, another stain on Montoya's name. And all this while appointing Captain Mesabi, a known thorn in the side of the Consul, count." Hudson frowned once more, rubbing his forehead. This was more complex than he cared for. "But what about the group of Priests and Monks we found to have been conspiring in Breshaun...It was my theory that they were hiring a saboteur?" "Our sources could never confirm any of this, you might remember." Sholmes interjected. "But consider the escape and capture of the Lorenzini impersonator. Does it not strike you as rather remarkable how swiftly the impersonator was apprehended? There is no concievable way the Consul's letter could possibly have reached Oleander authorities in time of the capture..." "However, as you may remember, he WAS captured!" "So he was - it was almost as if it was planned in advance..." "Now, Sholmes... You are certainly contradicting yourself..." "Imagine this: The Order of the Faith, or elements within, wishes to confound and confuse Corlander and Eslandian relations. Afterall, Corrington and Eslandola at conflict, perhaps even war, might be construed as advantageous to Olean interests." Sholmes explained. "Giving the impression of 'rescueing' Lorenzini and then having him 'disappear', while in fact abducting and torturing him for information about Corlander plans and strategies, would serve that purpose wonderfully." "Another case of convenient coincidence, perhaps?" "Convenient coincidence, indeed, Hudson, particularly when the Consul's letter arrived. Certainly, as it arrived they already knew that the man was not Lorenzini, having tortured him. But now they had an excuse and could publicly admit to having captured the man." "But who was he, then?" "We cannot know. But they claim he has admitted to be the saboteur, which is by no means implausible." "You have got me quite confounded, Sholmes. Care to explain again?" "Certainly. Eslandian merchants arranged the explosion on the Wolf's Blood to give Eslandian troops an excuse to enter the city. Shortly afterwards, Viscount Pennington's agent attacked Lorenzini, and appointed Mesabi Count, to sabotage Consul Montoya's efforts and sow discontent in the city. And then, the Order of the Faith lifted a man thought to be Lorenzini off the island, tortured him, and used the Consul's letter as a convenient explanation for their torture." "And you are quite certain this is what transpired?" Hudson asked sceptically. "Elementary, my dear Hudson. There is no other possibly explanation." "Although unlikely..." "When you have excluded the impossible, what ever is left, no matter how...." Sholmes said, before being interrupted by Hudson finishing the sentence in a slightly irritated tone: "...no matter how implausible, must be the truth... I know, I know!" __________________________________________________ Ended up being longer than I had planned, but it was fun to build - sorry for the wall of text - C&C is, as always welcome. :) I would like to donate the Temple build (a small cultural, Breshaun) to the Order of the Faith ( @Phred?), while the Arlinsport city gate will be licensed by Arlinsport.
  4. [Trois Forks Inn, Breshaun] “Cheers to king Alphonso! We have a great victory over Eslandola at the Battle of 5 Navies!” “Hooray! Hooray!” ‘Bloody Mardierians… They must have forgotten that they lost 10 vessels to Eslandola without any of the Eslandola vessels having a scratch… They just were lucky those bloody Sea Rats showed up…’ Jan Zwartbaard thought. He was sitting in one of the many Inns the flourishing city of Breshaun has to offer. On one of the other tables, a Mardierian captain was proaching about how great Mardier is and how Eslandola and Garvey will fall. It would be just a matter of time the captain said. The obligatory inn cat couldn't give a rat's about what was going on inside... The later the evening, the more interesting the conversations became. Pretending to be sleeping, Jan Zwartbaard heard every single word the Mardierians said. Luckily for him it was said in the same dialect as the dialect he used to speak as a very young child. What he heard was a rather confusing puzzle of loose elements, but it was clearly about a big treasure to be discovered by Mardier. Luckily he could rely on his brains, so he had not the need to note everything instantly as that would be suspicious. One by one the guests were heading towards their chambers. After finding himself to be the last guest, he thanked and paid the Inn Keeper and walked outside, around the building to his upstairs lodging. "Strange fellow, not very talkative. But kinda cute in a weird way." Sthe tought to herself. It had been a good night for her, even though the strange guy didn't leave a tip. Zwartbaard took pen and paper and started sketching. Afterwards, he took a map of the New Haven region and put it next tot he notes and drawings. The analysing would keep him up all night, luckily he could sleep tomorrow on the vessel heading towards Trador… For Eslandola. Individual entry, but first part of a story collaboration. I intend to lisense it as a medium artisan.
  5. Seminaire de Breshaun by Brandon Stark, on Flickr Before returning to Dragonstone, Brandon plans to visit a few more sites in Breshaun, which has seen significant growth since he last visited over a year ago. One of these sites is the Seminaire de Breshaun, located close to the Temple of Zeus. Funded by Brandon with support from the Order, the seminary is a testament to the Order's growing power in the colonies, allowing it to train new priests in the colonies for missions, rather than sending priests over from the mainland. The Seminary's style to similar to those of Dragonstone, since Brandon was the one who funded its construction, but its materials are similar to that of most buildings in Breshaun. It is currently home to a small but growing number of priests in training, and because of the growing numbers, the Order is planning to buy a larger property nearby. The Seminary is also home to two priests of Zeus and Poseidon each, and also one priest of Hades, who educates the priests in training on the darker side of the Order. So this build was supposed to be for Dragonstone, but Breshaun needed properties and so it got a seminary. The style of this one is actually based off of the Seminaire de Quebec in Vieux Quebec that I visited last year in Quebec City, Canada, though the Seminaire de Quebec is much bigger.
  6. This is a royal collaborative build by (in order of appearance): @blackdeathgr, @Kolonialbeamter @robinnilsson403 @Captain Genaro, and @Brandon Stark. Comments and criticism are always welcome. Riding a few dozen yards behind the rest of the convoy, partially for privacy but primarily to avoid the dust tossed up by the convoy of horses, men, and wagons, Lieutenant Wolfgang Hochstetter worried about his future. The unsigned letter, the cause of his worries, sat in the lieutenant’s saddlebag as he pondered every possible reason for the unexpected order to return to Breshaun and report to the Royal Mint. The lieutenant was in charge of overseeing the convoys of pure Belson silver that traveled from the isolated mines deep in the island’s untamed wilderness to the massive smelting operations, and finally at the Royal Mint, where the metal was turned into coins, bars, and whatever else the King desired before being placed on massive galleons destined for Granoleon. Sure, there had been delays, the young lieutenant knew. The natives were getting restless again and there were reports of robbers, possibly even pirates, ambushing travelers along the isolated island roads. But these weren’t his fault, Wolfgang told himself, he was simply in charge of ensuring the silver kept flowing, something that, despite a few delays, he did very well. Still, despite his near perfect record, that single piece of paper in his saddlebag consumed the young lieutenant’s mind more than hordes of cannibals or violent brigands could. The sun was just beginning to set by the time the convoy arrived at the city gates. The convoy remained together for a few miles, but as they neared their destination, the wagon and guards took the right path which lead to the freight entrance behind the Mint, while Wolfgang took the left path to the front of the majestic building. The lieutenant rode on for a few hundred yards, the shadows growing longer, before finding a stable where he could keep his horse. Delaying only long enough to pay for his horses’ supper, Wolfgang continued down the winding roads before turning onto the tree lined boulevard which lead straight to the Mint’s main gate. Despite seeing the building on multiple occasions, Wolfgang couldn’t help but be in awe of the building’s sublime splendor. But it was not the intricate stonework or gold-plated royal crest that Wolfgang reflected on; rather, it was the sheer size of the imposing structure. And as the last rays of the setting sun disappeared behind the Mint’s enormous roof, Wolfgang passed the black iron gates and into the dark foyer. Immediately upon entering, Wolfgang was approached by a porter who, upon seeing the letter instructed the officer to “follow.” The two quickly took off and within a few moments were completely lost in the labyrinth of halls, stairs, and rooms. P2280008 by Robin Nilsson, on Flickr After countless turns and endless corridors, they arrived at a portion of the Mint Wolfgang had never seen before. A long simple hallway flanked the corridor, empty apart from two vigilant soldiers guarding a massive gold-plated vault. Like most visitors to the Mint, Wolfgang heard stories about the massive vaults deep within the building, but had never seen them. Walking past the guards, Wolfgang’s worries disappeared for a moment as he tried to imagine just how much wealth lay behind the massive iron door. But as imaginative as he was, Wolfgang couldn’t begin to fathom the plethora of chests filled with coins, the stacks of silver bars too heavy for the strongest draft horse to carry, and the long rods of pure silver destined to be melted down and turned into whatever the artisans (or more accurately, whatever the artisans’ customers) desired. P2280016 by Robin Nilsson, on Flickr They finally arrived in a rather large antechamber, empty apart from a few chairs and a secretary’s desk. After confirming that Wolfgang was ready to meet his host, the porter turned to the massive French doors and gave them two loud knocks. After a brief pause, a firm voice from within replied. “Enter,” the voice commanded, and the doors swung inwards revealing the immense office of le Intendant General des Finances d'Oleon. Realizing who sat before him, Wolfgang froze for a moment before walking forward. Reaching the Intendant’s desk, Wolfgang froze and, looking at the life-sized statue of Tyche that stood behind the Intendant’s desk, he clumsily blessed himself in the Oleander fashion. While he did this, the Intendant got up and proceeded to stand next to the young lieutenant who, upon finishing the blessing, turned, knelt on one knee, and kissed l'Anneau de Vele, the Ring of Vele, which rested upon the Intendant’s right middle finger. P1110334 by Capt. Genaro, on Flickr “Lieutenant Wolfgang Hochstetter, reporting as ordered, my lord” said Wolfgang as he stood up. The Intendant stared for a moment before speaking in his firm, cold voice. “Fortuna iuvat pias [Fortuna favors the pious], Lieutenant. I have seen men greater than you, men of Oleander birth, who upon entering my office kneel before me before paying homage to the goddess,” replied the Intendant, his cold voice showing just a mere hint of kindness. “Those men have all failed. You, however, a foreigner no less, knows the proper order of things. I am pleased to see this. Sit,” the Intendant gestured toward two chairs. Wolfgang bowed and thanked his lordship and walked towards the chairs while the Intendant walked towards a liquor cabinet and filled two glasses from separate bottles. Speechless, Wolfgang struggled to grasp his situation. Not only did he meet a Peer of Oleon, but he received some rather high praise and was now being served drinks by the same Peer. P1110341 by Capt. Genaro, on Flickr “I believe you are found of raspberry schnapps” said the Intendant as he held out a glass to Wolfgang. Wolfgang nodded before the Intendant toasted “To the King” and they both took a long swig from their glasses. “You must forgive the secrecy, but there are those that must not know of my presence in Breshaun and especially of my meeting you” stated the Intendant in a conversational tone. “You are aware of the fate of Major Leon?” Wolfgang thought for a moment. “The RNTC officer who drowned in Lavalette?” “No, the RNTC officer who was drowned in Lavalette. Make no mistake, Lieutenant, Major Leon was killed, and he was killed by the Order.” “But how can you be so certain, my lord. I don’t mean to doubt your lordship, but these are serious accusations” a stunned Wolfgang replied. “It’s all in a report I shall give you. But I did not order you here to explain my reasoning. No, I ordered you here because there is an opportunity you should accept.” The Intendant took a sip of his wine before continuing. “It appears that the RNTC is in need of an officer to command its forces in Lavalette. You are my primary candidate.” Stunned, Wolfgang couldn’t believe his ears. “Me, sir, my lord?” stammered Wolfgang. “I don’t mean to question your lordship, but are you quite certain.” “I have reviewed your record,” replied the Intendant. “Your intelligence and brutality, especially your unique methods of interrogation and native pacification, are in high demand in Lavalette. Better yet, as a foreigner, I have nothing to fear from you. It’s a miracle you made it to a lieutenant, but you won’t advance any further in the army. You need me if you hope to advance, so you can’t betray me.” “Your praise is too much, my lord. I simply served the Crown as best I could.” As he said this, Wolfgang reflected on the Intendant’s words. They were all true, and what choice did he have? As an exile, he could never return to his home country and his welcome in other lands wouldn’t be any warmer than Oleon. With no skills other than his military knowledge, he couldn’t exactly change careers and he had no desire to spend the rest of his days as a lieutenant taking orders from men half his age. Besides, he had no family and the new settlements further east offered untold opportunities for fortune and fame. “What do you command of me, my lord?” At this, the Intendant stood up, walked over to a smaller desk and pressed two seals onto a sheet of paper. “Your orders, Major Hochstetter, are quite simple. Restore order in Lavalette, check the spread of the Order’s authority, and find the assassin who killed Major Leon.” P1110344 by Capt. Genaro, on Flickr “The assassin, my lord?” “A cleric of Hades. I only know of two priests of Tyche in Lavalette right now, so the cleric has not decided to make his identity known. Your report includes a list of names, one of which is our cleric. You are to identify him, arrest him, and have him sent to me alive. Is that clear?” the Intendant asked with a threatening tone. “My lord, I’m not sure I heard you correctly, sir, as I’m merely a lieutenant and the next rank is,” “I am well aware of military ranks, Major, and I hope you are aware that in this matter my word is final.” “Yes, my lord. Certainly, my lord, forgive me, I never meant to question you.” Wolfgang paused for a moment before continuing. “May I ask how you know so much about the assassin?” The Intendant stared for a moment before continuing. “Your horse and personal affects have been loaded onto the Philip Roi, and you are expected onboard before the morning tide. Your uniform is in your cabin along with a tailor who can make the final adjustments. Congratulations on your promotion, Major,” said the Intendant as he stood. On que, two servants opened the massive French doors to the Intendant’s office. Wolfgang stood, feelings of fear, pride, and confusion all competing inside him, took his leave, and began to exit when the Intendant interrupted. “Major, the assassin shall be delivered to me alive. There is no debate on this point.” P1110315 by Capt. Genaro, on Flickr Brandon Stark's Story: Breshaun Collab 1 by Brandon Stark, on Flickr Breshaun Collab 2 by Brandon Stark, on Flickr Brandon walked through the Royal Mint of Breshaun, on his way to a meeting with the Intendant General des Finances d'Oleon. It was two weeks ago when he had received a summons with the royal seal asking him to come to Breshaun for a meeting with the Intendant General. After a long journey and a brief stop in King's Port, Terraversa, Brandon arrived at the port of Breshaun. He had no time for a stop in Eltina. As he walked through the halls of the large building, which reminded him so much of the palaces back home in Oleon, Brandon couldn't help but wonder why he needed to meet with one of the kingdom's top officials. He thought he was summoned to be reprimanded or punished for settling an island without the Crown's permission, but that meeting would've been with the Secretaire des Colonies. Maybe they were going to force him to pay a fine? As Brandon continued walking down the hall, he noticed a familiar young woman walking in his direction down the corridor. She also seemed to be wearing a very familiar dress. Brandon assumed it was just his eyes, but he decided to get a closer look. As he got closer, he immediately noticed the young woman. "Lady Maelynn of the House of Couture. What brings you to Breshaun?" Brandon said in a half joking manner. Brandon also saw she was wearing the silk dress he had sent her with the money he made from investments and mayor pay. Maelynn responded with. "I'm not a lady yet, Mayor Lantell. And I'm following my father, who's helping run this mint for the crown" Brandon quickly bowed and kissed her hand. Maelynn Couture, the daughter of a prominent aristocrat back in Oleon, was Brandon's betrothed. He had gone so far in life since that day in the Juniper grove, he thought to himself. Though he and Maelynn were to marry soon, Brandon left for the colonies as part of a royal expeditionary force more than a year ago, though he stayed in the colonies even after his duties were done. "It is pleasant to see you after a year of being apart. You've only grown more beautiful since then." Brandon then looked at his watch, then remembered the time of the meeting. "Apologies, Maelynn, but I must go now. I have to meet with the Intendant General des Finances, and he is one you don't want to make angry. Now, after I'm done, would you like to come with me to the mayor's mansion tonight? I hear he's hosting an event for nobles and other prestigious people like us." "Brandon, I would be more than happy to go with you. Please meet me at the Poseidon Garden at 6 tonight. I have to go home first to prepare for the event. Just wait for me there. Until then, Brandon." Maelynn then begun walking down the corridor. Brandon then walked in the direction of the Intendant General's office, wondering what the meeting would be like. But Brandon had feelings of joy after meeting his betrothed after a year of being apart.
  7. The miners at the salt mine in Breshaun, had to transport their valuable cargo down the hill from the extraction point. Due to the lack of a proper road, they carved narrow passages on the rocks and relied heavily on pack mules. Below we can see Old Jesse and Rosita (a younger mule) doing the heavy work. Ok, I might have added some extra weight on Old Jesse in comparison to Rosita, but who doesn't love some LEGO animal extravaganza? Obviously it's Old Jesse's soul that does the carrying rather than his body. Anyway, which of the two pack mules do you prefer? And a further top down photo Thanks for watching everybody!
  8. Geologists of that era weren't always wrong about local minerals, so the city of Breshaun gave it a go... Eagerly waiting for the results! (silver maybe?) As always, thanks for watching!
  9. Oh, adventurous traveler, let me guide you through this Breshaun's bustling port vista. From left to right: Small bridge, "North by Northwest" tavern, a local small house, a warehouse and a derelict house. center view right side view left side view Oh, is that true?? One of Captain Morgan's crew captured? With sufficient persuasion from the guys at the Admiralty may be we can learn his secret hideout!
  10. Ahoy there again, fellow brick-enthusiasts, today another brick in the wall that I call my landlubbing endeavor... aaand it's a place where bricks are made - who knew! Not the bricks you're looking for, though, but nonetheless 'important' - at least for the... City... of Breshaun The Brazzi Brothers' Brickyard in Breshaun December 21st - formally the beginning of the cold season in some parts of the old world, but next to a fire of several hundred degrees one could easily forget that Winter had arrived. The Brazzi Brothers probably didn't give it much of a thought neither. They just went about their business - their family business, to be more specific. Originating from southern Mardier, they had come to Breshaun almost 20 years ago in search for a new home far from the impacts of the Civil War raging in their home country. In Breshaun, they were among the first to set up a manufactury to produce large amounts of bricks - an investment that would soon turn out a huge asset in the development of the settlement into a thriving large town. And although today there are more and larger brickyards in and around Breshaun, it fills the three brothers with pride to have contributed - and still being contributive - to what is also their... City of Light. About: Hmm... not really much to say about this one. The oven had been in the making for a while, but I never came around building a house to go along with it. However, now it just had to be done, so I went for it The build itself is rather repetitive and unspectacular, but the details took a lot of time. I think, however, those bricky bricks aren't nice too nice to look at if used in masses... Need to change this in future builds... Oh, and I'm not really sure this is the way to actually make bricks... hmm... I might have to call Billund to find out... Anyway, I hope you can enjoy this a little, C&C welcome! Thanks for watching Vive le Roi!
  11. Ahoy once more! This is an entry for Oleon's Coronation Festivities challenge. The Poseidon Garden King Philip I was immensely impressed, and Queen Beatrice even more so. Continuing their tour through the city of Breshaun, they had just arrived at the Poseidon Garden - a terraced garden laid out in honor of the God of the Sea. Now, walking down the winding staircase, they looked around, then at each other, and lastly to mayor Sisnera, who was more than proudly smiling all over his face. This almost feels like being home in Granoleon - the King to his own surprise caught himself thinking - quite a decent garden! This tour has been nothing but joy so far. But now - hush - enough talk, enjoy the walk! about: Well, this one was tough. Constructing it was all challenging and fun, but at 18000+ parts LDD crashed quite a few times - which wasn't that much fun. The entire facility measures 165x128 studs. The ground took a lot of different design attempts to feel okay, and placing these bricks was a mind-numbing business Anyway, I'm quite happy with the final result now. I hope you like it, too C&C welcome! Vive le Roi!
  12. Hi guys, This is an entry for Oleon's Coronation Festivities challenge. Ceremony at the General Breshaun Monument King Philip I and his wife Queen Beatrice are busy people these days. News of the royal couple's planned trip to Breshaun has caused great excitement among the local populace, and upon their arrival, the entire town is now eager to present itself in the best light possible. Breshaun is experiencing a boom these days, its growth is literally visible, and a lot of prestigious buildings and structures have been finished just in time for the royal visit. Among these is the new monument to honor General Breshaun - the city's first governor - errected in the middle of the main market square. Now, for its inauguration a ceremony is being held - of course attended by King and Queen. And it seems that despite the early morning hours, a lot of citizens are afoot and want to welcome the royal couple, and proudly show them what the people of Breshaun are capable of creating here in their thriving city. about: This started out as a small, simple statue, but I got carried away, and this happened. The cross shaped base and the cobblestone pattern around the monument are meant to be an homage to general Breshaun's insignia, represented on the city flag - which is based on this part here. What else? Well, minifig creation and placement is really not something I enjoy in LDD. Apart from that, building this went astonishingly smooth, and I'm quite happy with the result. I hope you enjoy it, too C&C welcome! Vive le Roi!
  13. Eslandola galleon in sight! Breshaun life stopped for a second, some heads turning to the port. Indeed a proud galleon entered the harbour. White painted, green flags on top. The ship didn't steal its name, it was surely a prince. 3 rowboats left the "Prince of Stedor" and headed for the quays. Meanwhile, some Oleon officers and royals arrived at the MAESTRO commerce house, as it was here where the rowboats would go to. Lord Damaximus was looking around him. Breshaun is such a nice port, so vibrant ... . But also so full of soldiers. Everywhere he looks, he sees marching guards. Luckily MAESTRO is always welcome in Breshaun since they opened a cider shop on the quays. The best cider in the world, made in Elysabethtown from the apples of Felipe de la Manzana. Giving a gift to an official for the new king Philip of Oleon. Long may he reign! ------------------------- C&C welcome!! I am going to licence this as medium commerce house. Am I right that Oleon pays me back half of the licence cost as it is located in Breshaun?
  14. It's time for grape harvesting at D'Offren vineyards, Breshaun, Le Bellan. Everybody is running up and down. Grape gathering, squeezing, tasting, putting into barrels and transferring them to a big shadowy cellar. Who needs rum when you got mother nature's sweet wine? P.S: Sorry for the lame photos (taken under really bad yellow lighting and cat continuously pulling the white tablecloth i am using), but i don't know if i have the time to build me any type of enterprise till the end of the month, and i wanted one licenced. If i find time till then, i will shoot the MOC again under sunlight (we do have plenty here in Greece when i am working ) Life in a vineyard by Spy Tha, on Flickr grape gathering by Spy Tha, on Flickr grape squeezing by Spy Tha, on Flickr fresh wine by Spy Tha, on Flickr olive tree by Spy Tha, on Flickr