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I used my entry for this book III- challenge in the ‘Fantastic feasts’-category for Brickscalibur as well! “For years and years small domestic commerce and trades simply took place by the cliffs on the riverside. In time, Wifgrir, the duke of Dandelume, saw a great potential in the location in this riverside part of his municipality. Mostly due to its availability from water and nearby larger roads. He therefore ordered a completion of a small fortification and garrisoned soldiers within. With time of relative peace and stability the trading routes brought goods and merchants from near and far. The dandelumians could storage and bargain their notorious avalonian wine and earthenware for merchandise from all over Historica. It was common for the garrisoned soldiers to have their meals, large or small, outside the eastern walls of the fortification, to have a moments peace and quiet from the noisy commerce going on inside. This also gave them time to check the stored wine and see to the earthenware in an enclosed space.”
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[Freebuild] Embervale - Dark Elven Carriage (Chronicles of Embervale Ep.08)
Aurore posted a topic in Guilds of Historica
My entry, as a team with @Sympatik Brick, for the collaborative category of Brickscalibur. Check his build here! And, also, a new episode in my main storyline the Chronicles of Embervale... THE BUILD My very first vehicle, and very first attempt at creating other Dark Elves than my main characters Alrune and Dresghar. I'm now very tempted to make a full-fleshed faction, Warhammer-miniatures-style, but I digresss. Here is a high-end but cumbersome carriage of the Dark Elves, traveling through the rugged mountains around Embervale and getting to know the local population... More details of the decor, minifigs and carriage in the spoiler section below. THE STORY Previously in the Chronicles of Embervale: a flashback brought us back when Embervale was ruled by a certain Governor Voronthir. Alrune had never set foot there, and Evrart was a sergeant for a neighbouring baron of the human Realms. As said baron was visiting Embervale to solve a minor conflict with the Governor, all of a sudden, the bell of the village made its ring heard… As the bell started to ring in Embervale, the quiet village became a hive of activity. Such a backwater corner of the Elven Empire hardly ever got visits from officials – even the local governor set foot outside of the castle only if he was really forced to do so. Imperial elves mingled as little as possible with the human populace of their most remote borders. But the bell was announcing imperials and rumours and contradictory information were spreading like wildfire. Who? Why? Good news, or bad omens for the villagers? The visiting baron was not the last to want to know more. Upon interrogation, the town crier explained him he had rung the bell because the miller’s son said there were imperial troops approaching. The boy had been warned by an adventurer. Who had heard it from one of the foresters. Who said a little bird had told him. At which point the baron’s sergeant had the greatest difficulty to prevent his liege from punching someone in the face. As the rest of the day passed on without any imperial elf showing up, most of the visitors from the Adventurers’ Guild left the village for places with more action and less damp squids. The baron, meanwhile, decided to stay. Partly because he had no intention to give up on talking to the Governor despite the hermetically closed gates of the castle, and partly because the local beer was excellent. And as he and his men were about to order their third round, a small black bird came to land on their table... “What the…? A crow?” One of the soldiers exclaimed with a large yet imprecise hand gesture intended to expel the intruder. “I’m not a crow,” the bird stated, scowling at the man. “Not everything that’s black and flies is a crow, you ignorant grunt. I’m an alpine chough!” An awkward silence was the only answer – during which the baron glanced at his beer with much suspicion. Yellow bill and red feet, you see,” the bird went on, unimpressed. “That’s an easy way to distinguish an alpine chough from a crow, which is all black. Anyways. If you get me a portion of this excellent roasted ham they serve here, I’ll tell you all you want to know about the elves who are approaching. Who were approaching – actually.” Perhaps it was the beer, perhaps it was curiosity, the fact remains that the baron ordered a portion of ham for this unusual informant. And, between two pecks at its lunch, the little bird told them about travellers it had seen in the mountains above Embervale. A big carriage and a handful of riders. They were what humans called dark elves, most probably, because they were clad in black and there were pointy bits on the (black) coach. The chough had spent some time perched on the carriage, and one of the elves had given it half of an excellent goat cheese. Then it had left them to tend to some important bird business, and the next time it had seen them, they were as good as dead. “What happened?” The baron snapped when the bird chose this precise moment to take the time to preen its feathers. "They were ambushed!” The chough answered with such a sudden wing gesture that the closest soldier spilled his beer. “Scary creatures! Cats and wargs! Claws and fangs – and weapons! They took the carriage!” "Any elf left alive?” The sergeant enquired. “Maybe. At least, I haven’t found the body of the nice one who gave me cheese.” “I would have expected the survivors to show up in Embervale cryin’ to their governor like little kids to their mama!” The baron sneered. “You dare to explain why you tell us rather than some pointy-eared rascal?” “You’re not even able to differentiate a chough from a crow! Don’t expect me to care for the differences between you primates,” the bird replied in the same tone. This time, the sergeant was not quick enough to prevent his liege from throwing a punch. But don’t you worry for the little chough! It dodged, and spent the rest of the evening enjoying roasted ham - while watching one of those classic tavern brawls that is bound to happen in any self-respecting fantasy story when someone loses their temper in a bar. -
Finally got around to posting my revamp of one of my Brickscalibur (Trading Places category)! Horses are the dominant mode of transportation throughout much of Historica. Farriers are never short of work, with entire families taking up the trade. One such family are the Ogden family, with all three generations of men taking part in the family business. Though advanced in years, Josiah Ogden still has the prowess needed to tend to horse hoofs. His son, Johan Ogden, focuses on preparing horse shoes, while also teaching his own son, Jeremiah, the tools of the trade. Many farriers will also accept centaur clients, with one such client being Brielle Valken on one of her (much needed) days off. Healthy hoofs make a healthy centaur! From left to right: A weary traveller named Tomas and his steed, Ochre Jeremiah Ogden Johan Ogden Josiah Ogden Brielle Valken Comparison: Original vs Revamp The original MOC was cobbled together at the last minute. I submitted entries for every category, and this unfortunately suffered from having the least amount of time allotted to it. I'm glad I was able to revisit it! More images of the revamp:
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This is one of my four submissions for Brickscalibur. This one is for the ’Far East Elegance’-category. “It was a day of normal harmony at the Hamajuzi estate. The labourers were tending to the small rice terraces and the lord was taking a short stroll beneath the falling leaves with his daughter. However, a loud scream from his wife disturbed the serenity. ‘I see him, I see him!’ she yelled across the stone floors in the direction of the stairs leading up their living quarters. And soon the lord could see for himself, the helmet of his son appearing over the steps. He was returning from his service in the war. The lord hurried the best he could supported by his daughter. His wife stood frozen, stretching her arm towards the long gone son. He was home.”
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Saying that I was thrilled by this year's "Magical Minifigures" category of the Brickscalibur contest would be an understatement. So instead of five minifigs, as initially planned, I ended up with ten! From left to right... - From Avalonia: Farbauti, wild druid, and his faithful warg - From Mitgardia: Falmond Hoog, artificer, and his masterwork the Crystal Golem - From Avalonia: my sigfig herself, in a battle-ready outfit. Alrune d'Embervale, battlemage and necromander, animating a recruit - From Varlyrio: Bérangère de Belloy, enchantress, and her mighty familiar - From Kaliphlin: Sedri Raedh, demonologist, invoking a lesser demon - Last but not least, from Nocturnus: Amlach, wizardry researcher, and an experimental abomination
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Built for Brickscalibur (Labor of Love category) as part of a collab with @Sympatik Brick One beautiful summer morning on the coast, a man named Nemyk (wanting to beat the “morning rush”) went down to his favorite fishing spot. What he found instead was a basking mermaid named Lorena, who wanted to take advantage of the first rays of the sun while out of the sight of “land dwellers”. Both caught off guard, the two engaged in some awkward small talk before parting ways. As fate would have it, the two would encounter each other again the following morning, and the morning after that, and so on. Gradually warming to each other, the two poured out their hearts, and (after a few months) were deeply in love. On the anniversary of their meeting, both decided to surprise each other with a gift. Nemyk sought a rare flower that was only found deep within the inhospitable Rakath mountains, while Lorena sought a crystal in the cold abyss of the ocean. Neither were prepared for the dangers that awaited them… Here's @Sympatik Brick's half of the collab! About the Giant Valyrian Anglerfish: Additional Images: Brickscalibur has just reached its epic conclusion, and it's time for me to start posting my entries. This was my first-ever collaboration, and it was an absolute blast! Best of luck to all of you who submitted entries!
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Built for 10C "Miscellaneous" Category and for Brickscalibur "Frozen Wilds" Category! Amir had spent years gaining the trust of his employer. When he finally gained access to his massive vault in Barqa, he made sure to pocket some on every "accounting check". Sure, the old geezer was nice, but he was also gullible, so Amir reasoned that he deserved it! He planned to sail away to Valyrio once he had enough, and buy a quiet villa overlooking the sea with his ill-gotten gains. As it turned out, the old man was not as senile as Amir thought. Noticing a discrepancy (and hiring his own investigator), he discovered the plot and ordered Amir arrested. Amir was able to get out of town with only a sack full of the pilfered gold. It wasn't ideal, but it was better than being imprisoned or worse - authorities in Kaliphlin did not take such offenses lightly. Now he was on the snowy slopes of Mitgardia. Nice and far from Kaliphlin, but he wasn't safe. He recalled his response when he heard the news. Sitting in a tavern a few hours prior, he overheard from some travelers that a massive bounty had been put on his head. As if that wasn't bad enough, it turned out that Kars was one of the many hunters vying for the reward. Amir had heard stories of Kars for years - a tall, lean man of few words with a bizarre mask. It was said that his silver eyes pierced the soul and drove his quarries to regret the choices that led them there. Nicknamed "the Bloodhound", he was said to be the best tracker in all the land. Countless stories told of his incredible feats - Amir never fully believed them, but the news still caused him to panic. Making an inconspicuous exit from the tavern, he made his way further north. Rounding a bend, he froze in place. There he was waiting for him. All the stories were true. Drawing his dagger, Amir lunged at Kars. Faster than lightning, the bounty hunter responded with his own sword: a massive saber. In the hands of anyone shorter it would have been unwieldily. Kars dodged Amir's thrust and slashed him the back. Though only a shallow wound, Amir still cried in pain, and tumbled down the slope. Propping himself against an old birch tree, he watched as drops of blood colored the snow a bright red. He turned his head to see Kars approaching him, sword still drawn. Amir locked eyes with the bounty hunter. From behind his wooden mask peered two silver eyes; sharp as needles, they had hungry yet calculating look to them. More importantly, they peered into Amir's soul. For the first time in years, Amir felt shame and guilt for what he had done. He regretted everything that had led him to this point. Before he could beg for his life, Kars spoke. "You're lucky your employer wants you alive." More photos:
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[Minifigs] Hademar's Household (Chronicles of Embervale Digression #3)
Aurore posted a topic in Guilds of Historica
My entry to the "Farmstead Figures" category of this year's edition of Brickscalibur - and a handful of hard-working citizens for Avalonia! --- Hademar Half-Dwarf had lost two fingers and half a leg to war. Yet he deemed himself fortunate, for when peace had come the Baron had granted him several acres of fertile land and a few heads of cattle. This enabled him to marry his long-time sweetheart. They were blessed with five healthy and hard-working daughters. And for years their little farm kept thriving nicely. Until one day an old friend of his, a former brother in arms, showed up at the gates with a frightened young girl. An orphan, he said. A poor little thing he had rescued from brigands. They talked about the old times, they talked about their fallen fellows and about the ones who lived, and his comrade soon talked Hademar into welcoming the girl in his household. And while he welcomed her with warm words and open arms, Hademar felt deep in his heart that this meant trouble for his farm and his family. From left to right: Hersent, Heloïse, Hildegard with baby Hemma, Heilwig, Hademar Half-Dwarf, his old comrade Renart, the orphan girl, and Hermine with her horse Hero. -
My entry for Brickscalibur 2021 - Rogues and Outlaws category. Hello everyone! Third MOC in the series of little Sarophas. This time arriving at Ravnsborg Castle, the stronghold of the Baroness and her henchmen. Far to long, these thugs have been taxing the local villagers to the breaking point, only to fill their coffers with their hard earned money, but no more! Heinrich and the Hatted Huntsmen are scaling the tower walls to gain access to the castle, in an attempt to 'liberate' the Baroness' treasure hoard. See the full album here https://flic.kr/s/aHsmX75NSj Front Back
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Built for Brickscalibur 2022 - Medieval Micro category. Hope you'll like it
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I'm reposting my entry for Brickscalibur here, the Monarchic Minifigures category - photo, text and reading! The build: The story: Were-beast hierarchies were notoriously fickle; leaders changed with the moon phase: wax, wane or sickle. The Wulf-Tang Clan was one such curious case; led by Matriarch Wulf, firm grip on the royal mace. Rip, Fang and Wrinkle, her loyal sons three; keeping them in line? Certainly not free: Pay for the damage when Rip fought in bars; Pay off the victims whose tongues Fang kept in jars; Pay for the tools as Wrinkle read the moon and stars. A change in the guard, though, when the harvest moon come: as Runt took over as leader of the pack, with his running mate Ocker watching his back. Sweet Lily, too, had ambition for the peak; Trice already she’d eliminated the weak. A lick of charm, males ate from her mitten; Runt, especially, reduced to a kitten. What she couldn’t obtain with just feminine wiles, Lily removed with a drop from her poisoned vials. Regardless of whoever was leader day-by-day, everybeast knew don’t cross were-coon Fay. As den-mother, her power was wide; Get on her wrong side? Your tail was fried! But one thing was true across all the moon’s phases, the bottom of the heap was reserved for tree grazers; Were-beaver serfs – they might not be free, but leaders beware … they could still fell the family tree. The poet's reading: If you like to hear the bard's own reading of this story, there is a sound file available on the Brickscalibur Discord server here. I don't think I can upload to here directly (or to Flickr). Build notes:
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A "military" build to flesh out Embervale in the Historical Settlements and one day get it included in the "Avalonian Sites and Monuments: a comprehensive guide"...and also my entry for Brickscalibur's "Interior Architect" category. Here are the command room and the armoury of the castle of Embervale! (Global photos in the hidden section) The story - Chronicles of Embervale Episode : To arms! Featuring… Alrune - The Elf Maiden, Lady of Embervale, mage Dresghar - The Chronicler, her faithful uncle, erudite Evrart - The (recently promoted) captain of her guards Gram - A guard Rex - The guards’ pet tarasque Goblin guards, skeletons "So, how are you doing?" Dresghar cheerfully asked the captain. Brooding next to the window of the command room, his arms crossed and his eyes gazing into space, Evrart let out a slight sigh but did not answer. Shortly following their expedition to the druidic mausoleum, out of the blue, Lady Alrune had come up with the unfortunate idea to appoint him as the captain of her guards. Her goblin guards. Only recently had the pesky little thugs dropped the idea of eating him, he wondered how she could think they would obey him anytime soon. "Are you alright?" Dresghar repeated. Evrart sighed again and gestured toward the courtyard on the other side of the window, where a few goblins were enthusiastically poking each other with blunt spears. "I’m trying to get them through basic training, sir. Teamwork. Hierarchy. Elementary hygiene. Stuff like that." "And it doesn’t go as intended?" "Oh well, they happen to follow my orders from time to time. And they know which side of a spear is supposed to be pointed at the enemy. I guess that’s a start." One of the goblins tripped over his own weapon, fell in a puddle, and made all the others giggle foolishly. "Let’s just hope the lady doesn’t have short-term military ambitions, sir." Evrart turned his attention away from the goblins – his goblins – and observed Dresghar snooping around the command room. It was a large study located in one of the most ancient parts of the castle, reflecting the architectural style of the humans who had built the early stronghold rather than the ornate design of the elves who had later besieged it, won it, and rebuilt it. The successive elven governors of the castle had kept the room as intact as possible, going so far as to hire human workers to renovate the elaborate parquet floor and furniture. Lady Alrune’s father, who had used the place as his headquarters during all his campaigns, was allegedly the first to add his coat of arms and colours on the walls and decorate with personal items and weapons. "Do you know how to read and write?" Dresghar suddenly and unexpectedly enquired. "More or less, sir," Evrart replied after a short hesitation. "The baron I used to serve taught me how to sign my name and read simple messages." "Well, I guess that’s a start,” the elf sneered. "Now that you’re an officer of Embervale, you’ll need to participate to administrative tasks as well as military ones." Evrart rolled his eyes. "Very funny, sir." "Oh, I’m not joking," Dresghar replied with a mischievous smile. "There. Here are the books where my niece was recording her military expenditures. She’s very bad at accounting, even you can’t do worse. Give it a try!" And, still smirking, he left the room and abandoned Evrart with a pile of books and the unpleasant feeling of being snookered. First, irksome goblins, and now administrative chores. Why did he come to Embervale already? Oh, right, he had no place to live when the baron got rid of him, and he deemed the lady here as a respectable person. --- He spent the rest of a day – an eternity – struggling to decipher the tiny, tight handwriting of the said lady. He was almost concluding she had encrypted her writings, when an ear-piercing shriek shrilled. He froze, all senses in alarm. And soon, he heard the distinct sounds of a scuffle right from the next room. The armoury. He rushed out, only to find three panicked goblins trying to fend off a much larger group of skeletons. Good old stupid skeletons, wielding decaying weapons, fighting bluntly without a hint of cooperation. Not that it really put them at disadvantage against the goblins, who were hardly better at tactical thinking. Frightened eyes were peeking out from the door that led to the guards’ dormitory: the rest of the goblins, not even helping their comrades in need. And, much to Evrart’s surprise, Alrune was in the room too. Unarmed, her hair undone, wearing a white nightgown, she was trying to comfort the guards’ pet tarasque cub. He briefly wondered why she was playing damsel in distress instead of fighting, but chose to focus on more immediate issues. "Get out, you wimps!" he shouted at the hidden goblins. "Take weapons and fight!" He heard them squabbling and moaning, but only one of them hesitantly ventured out of their lair. And stopped halfway when he noticed he was alone. Exasperated, Evrart crushed a few skeletons out of his way and reached the strongest among the fighting goblins. "Gram, make those cowards come out! If any of them dares to resist, feel free to tear off their ears – or whatever else comes to your mind!" The goblin flashed him a vicious smile and headed to the door. A few squeaks and screeches later, the whole company was in the guards’ room and frantically grabbing the nearest weapons. "Leave those freaking spears alone! Take clubs and maces!" the captain yelled. "Clubs and maces, you freaking fools!" Gram repeated while dropping her own spear. And, much sooner than Evrart had expected, all the intruders were shattered. --- The goblins cheered and drank all night long, boasting at their military prowess. The next morning, their captain was in a foul mood and had a severe headache when he met Alrune for their daily brief. "I regret to say that, but I have yet to find where the skeletons came from," he reported bitterly. "Really? They simply come from the basement. I animated them in the catacombs under the castle." He recoiled, staring at her in disbelief. A silence fell. And last. "I’m what your people call a dark elf, and I’m a mage," Alrune finally stated, her voice deeper than usual. “How could you not expect me to know enough necromancy to animate a few skeletons?" "If you say so! But why the heck would you do that to attack the armoury? I mean, your own armoury?" "It was a live exercise for the goblins and you! Or rather, an undead exercise," she added with a slight chuckle he found appalling. A rather puzzled Alrune watched him leave the room swearing under his breath. She had given him a trusted position, helped him train his men – err, goblins, and yet the guy was still as grouchy as ever. Oh well, humans. Strange people, really.
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The build: Lord of the Flies Agaric The story: Mushrooms were big business in the Enchanted Forest and one of the best mushroom groomers was Flix. The pixie specialised in painting fly agaric mushrooms, making sure their white spots were vivid and perfectly round. While mushroom grooming was often a relaxing task, Flix was always wary of insect attacks and kept his rapier with him at all times. Build notes:
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[Freebuild] Hunting the blue woolly eel (Anguilla galidoris)
Eyrezer posted a topic in Guilds of Historica
The build: Hunting the blue woolly eel (Anguilla galidoris) The story: Every spring, baby blue woolly eels migrated up rivers from the ocean, a highly anticipated chance to catch the small delicacy. Its ocean breeding grounds had never been found, a mystery the mermaid Ciara and her ikateren friend, Weroti, were determined to solve. They tracked the elvers into the depths of the ocean, fending off shark and other predators of the deep. Eventually, they came across an ancient seamount, covered with corals, kelp and other life. As they drew close, the pair saw two of the monstrously large blue woolly eels, their gaping maws displaying circle after circle of razor sharp teeth. Could these be the original progenitors of the tiny delicacy? Ciara knew no one would believe them - unless they could bring back one of the eels as a trophy! The hunters: Ciara was a young mermaid, living in a commune off the southern coast of Avalonia. For work, she tended the kelp gardens and warded off the giant sea turtles that liked to uproot the plants. She was often seen riding the wake of the Varlyrian schooners that traded goods along the Avalonia coast. Weroti was a wiry ikateren, a tentacled race allied with the mermaids. Weroti was the spawn of the local chieftainess and recently earned his coming of age tattoo on his arm. He was eager to prove himself as a worthy heir to his mother despite it being almost unheard of for a male to lead an ikateren school. Ikaterens were bipedal creatures typically patterned in orange, red or green. They had fins on their legs and a long spiny tail that aided in swimming and balance. They had black eyes and two wattles around their mouths. Build notes: -
The Brickscalibur event is over… and it was fun and interesting to see all these medievals builds. I was inspired by all 6 categories and choosed at the early beginning to make one submission for each… but I had no much time… and no much bricks left for my participation so I choosed to work on vignettes for 4 of the category. I decided to stage my sigfig Walt Herboï in a little adventure. Vignette - 12x12 (Walt’s journey 1/4) The riches that passed through the port of Barqa were numerous and accidents during unloading were not rare. The Varlyrian nobility also sometimes tended to dispose of objects that have become cumbersome directly in the port. That was enough to persuade Walt to visit. He crossed the Whiter Woods to reach Barqa and went for a swim as refreshing as it was lucrative. Rogues and Outlaws (Walt’s journey 2/4) Gold is good, but it's complicated to transport. Walt was forced to part with it at a second-hand dealer from Barqa. Dreaming of adventure, he exchanged it for a treasure map, which seems to indicate the presence of a cave guarded by a dragon not far from Marginea. As he recrosses the Whiter Woods, he comes face to face with elves ready to rid him of his riches. The old parchment in his hand does not make the elves pursue him too long ... it would have been quite the opposite if he still had his pockets full of gold coins. Monstrous Encounters (Walt’s Journey 3/4) The map Walt obtained at the port of Barqa indicates treasure hidden in the mountains south of Sionnach, allegedly guarded by a dragon. Thirsting for adventure, Walt climbs the mountain’s steepest side and comes upon a temple carved into the rock. It seems uninhabited but its contents shine brightly. With his foot on a gold coin, a terrible rumble resounds. Huggingy the wall, Walt feels the warm breath of the half-awakened dragon. Interior Architect (Walt’s Journey 4/4) In a defensive reflex, Walt grabbed a sword very close to him before to roll down the mountain. If his legs saved his life, this sword would change it ... his dream is finally coming true, he will be able to enter the throne room and offer his services at the same time as this sword to King Dagorn and thus follow the path of his late father. Thank you for your feedbacks… my rogues and outlaws participation is the least successful of the four builds but I’m happy with the elves!
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[Minifigs] Dark Elves Royalty (Chronicles of Embervale Digression #1)
Aurore posted a topic in Guilds of Historica
My entry for the "Monarchic Minifigures" category of the Brickscalibur contest! I could not miss the opportunity of having fun with minifigs while fleshing out my main character Alrune's family history. The minifigs (from left to right) - Dresghar, court minstrel - Thyrulnë the Fair, his sister, sorceress - Prince Aerenion, second son of the Queen - Shellethnir, Queen of the Dark Elves - Crown Prince Aerenthir, first son of the Queen - Alrune, his daughter - Wilwë the Elder, battlemage and advisor to the Queen Their story Once upon a time, in this very land we live in, there was a Queen. Queen Shellethnir, as she was called, had been widowed at a young age – losing her King to a sudden apoplexy stroke only two years after their wedding. Shortly before her widowhood, the Queen had given birth to two sons. Twins, but as different as siblings could be. Aerenthir was born first, and first he was in everything. A bright and fair child, the pride and joy of the Queen’s court. Aerenion was born second, unexpected even by his own mother. A shy and silent child, hidden in the shadow of his brother. While their mother ruled the kingdom with an iron fist in a glove of the same metal, the two princes grew up under the thumb of a most renowned tutor, Wilwë the Elder. A battlemage, a veteran of most – if not all – the wars the kingdom had known before. And also, incidentally, my father. But that’s not what matters. What matters is that Aerenthir became a brilliant tactician and a ruthless conqueror, the perfect crown prince his mother had hoped for. And that he soon married the fairest maiden of the court: my sister Thyrulnë, proud offspring from a long lineage of sorcerers and a mighty sorceress herself. Meanwhile, Aerenion stood behind the scene, finding serenity in study and solitude. The court rejoiced when Thyrulnë gave birth to a little girl, for the child would be as bright and fair as her parents. But when the kid grew up, it became obvious that she was as shy, as silent, and as solitary as her uncle Aerenion. Murmurs and rumours spread across the court. Aerenthir chose to flee. He threw himself headlong into military campaigns, marching even on neighbouring countries he used to see as allies. Thyrulnë chose to fight. She threw herself headlong into arcane studies, morphing her bitterness into dreadful weapons against the courtiers she used to see as friends. The harm had been done, and the halcyon days were over. The crown prince never came back from war. Neither did my father. And while my sister held on, the Queen as for her sank into despair. Soon after the funerals of her favourite son and her most trusted friend, she abdicated. And disappeared. That’s how Aerenion the Unexpected was crowned King. That’s also how I ended up taking care of a little girl, my niece Alrune, and how our story began... -
Folviken Fortress Folviken Fortress The Duke of Glannalt is brought to the Folviken. Abductees are always brought to the lake fortress for safe keeping until a ransom is paid. High profile persons, such as the duke, are always high stakes; sometimes our work just plays into the hands of an opportunistic usurper. But the rewards for the Wolfpack are too good to pass up. The Duke of Glannalt is Brought to the Lake Fortress I created this MOC for the Over water! category of the CCC XIX. I had been planning such a MOC for a while, especially after seeing Jonas Kramm’s Wolfholm. The submission was also very fitting for the Brickscalibur Rogues and Outlaws. The bridge to the main keep I had planned to use more wood and less stone, but enjoyed creating the rough stone wall textures. The whole process took longer than expected, but I’m satisfied with the result. The Roofs of the Fortress I had originally planned on a cheese slope roof, but could not work in the ‘wolf’ accents without very large roof rakes. So I went with a standard tile roof (with tiles half pushed down). Front Door of Folviken Fortress with Two Lanterns The lantern design is care of @ranghaal. Folviken Docks All three towers can be seen from the rear The Rear Tower Can be Seen when Viewed from the Right Box Windows Look out from the Second Floor The Front Façade Strikes Fear into Anyone Unlucky enough to get a Glimpse The Door to the Front Gatehouse Tower and Draw Bridge A Closeup of the Rear Tower
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Rich and the Poor The Rich In the morning merchants take their laden carts to the castle. The king and queen spend lavishly for their court. The remains are taken to market for the citizenry to pick over. The contrast between the rich and the poor has never been greater. My part of the “Rich and Poor” collaboration for Brickscalibur. My partner, LegoMocFan created Part 1: The Poor.
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Brethren! We have tried our best and had our most knowledgeable experts assess the situation, but despite their efforts the situation remains dire. The dark masters crack their whips. Little time remains to build worthy masterpieces! Hurry.. My entry for the 2021 Brickscalibur 12x12 Vignette category. Hope you like it Link to Flickr album: https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjzwZge
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