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The build: The story: The life of a fungus herder could be a lonely one. Most mushrooms were skittish creatures preferring the quietness of the deep forest and the solitude of their own kind. Too much sunlight, noise or disturbance and they grew slowly or not at all. For this reason, fungus herders were often quiet, introspected folk. Some of the most renowned fungus herders in all Historica were the tree-folk of the Enchanted Forest. Tree-folk were often reclusive themselves, sometimes living out their entire lives in the same valley or grove. Their introspective nature enabled the tree-folk to discover the magic of fungi – both metaphorical and mystical: the phosphorescence of gilled Pixie chalices; the healing power of Witches’ Steeples; or the purifying abilities of Spotted Purple Caps, capable of negating evil rot incantations. Of all the tree-folk sub-races in Historica, the best fungus herders came from the grent sub-race. Although few grent would admit it to outsiders, part of the secret to their success was that they could form symbiotic relationships with many fungi. Tiny fungal hyphae would wrap around grent roots and even penetrate the root interior. The fungus provided its grent partner with minerals in exchange for nutrients and other chemicals the fungus needed but could not produce itself. This skill enabled the grent to intimately monitor the health of their herds and encourage spore growth. Even grent, however, sometimes needed help propagating their fungal herds. In a grove within the Enchanted Forest, stood three ancient standing stones. Twice the height of a man, these stones stood in a slight semi-circle. For most of the year they stood grey and largely unadorned; not even moss or lichen marred the surfaces. At the autumnal equinox, however, faint traces of purple and silver runes appeared carved into the rockwork, hinting at a long-forgotten magical purpose. Uncovering one – likely incidental – use for this magic, the tree-folk had repurposed the standing stones for the annual, highly anticipated fungal swap meet. Grents, other tree-folk and the occasional wild dryad would herd their finest fungal specimens across the forests to this one grove. Under a full moon, the magic of the standing stones would ripen the fungal spores, which spawned in vast multi-coloured clouds. The air seemed almost to sparkle as moonbeams fell on clouds of spores. The normally solitary tree-folk were affected by the occasion too, becoming almost giddy. They swapped stories and news; traded fungal specimens; and, on occasion, frisky grents even coupled to propagate baby grent saplings. This particular year, the first to arrive at the standing stones were a small group of grent. There was Ngaio, herding a troop of sharply-pointed Witches’ Steeples; the juvenile sapling Mahoe attending his first meet and showcasing some tiny puffballs, most still waiting for their pinks caps to erupt; and Kawa, corralling a mixed herd of Firecracker white caps and Sour Buttons. They were all good samples and likely to generate plenty of interest when the trading began in earnest. All focus, however, was on Kauri, or more specifically the magnificent specimen he was showing off. ‹Is that an Ogre’s Eye? I didn’t think there were any left!› said Kawa. ‹Is that actually up for trade?› asked Ngaio. ‹I’ll give you all my puffballs› added Mahoe. The Ogre’s Eye was a rare mushroom that was pale green in colour and with a large black spot on its crown. From above it resembled a large eye, hence its common name. While striking in appearance, this was not the reason it was causing a stir. The Ogre’s Eye was bioluminescent and soaked through with magic. It was an ingredient in many potions and highly sought after by elves, mages and even Nocturnan necromancers. Kauri let their excitement wash over him before responding. ‹Hah, no way! I’ve already got a buyer lined up in Cedrica. This one is just for show - I've already removed all its spores. I thought you’d like a look before I make my fortune.› Kawa looked away to hide his disgust. This was a classic move by Kauri, who loved showing off but also proved damn successful at almost everything he tried. Kawa moved off to inspect Ngaio’s troop, refusing to give Kauri any more attention. Tiny Mahoe, however, was clearly impressed, shuffling up for a closer look. Thankfully the moment didn’t last long, with another arrival. A hulking tree-man shuffled into the standing stones glade, preceded by a collection of red and white capped -shrooms. ‹Baob, you’ve really packed on the rings› said Ngaio in greeting. ‹You look like you’re ready to go to seed!› When tree-folk reached a certain age, they gave up their mobility to put down roots. ‹True, I am. This will be my last swap and I’m giving away all my troops in preparation.” Baob was a different sub-race from the grents, a much stockier group known as mallowmen. Three large trunks grew from his hunched back curving outward in gentle lines. The offer of free mushrooms was enough to entice tiny Mahoe to the newcomer. ‹What is it with everyone going to seed all of a sudden? First Rimurapa, now you› interjected Kauri, shifting his specimen in a transparent attempt to restore attention to him. ‹Rimu’s gone to seed?› said Kawa in shock. He’d always been close to that particular grent and it came as a surprise to hear the wizened mentor had settled down without letting him know. ‹Yes, over by the Notomys’s coast› Kauri preened delivering the news to his rival. He’d intended to wait until there was more of a crowd before doing so, in order to embarrass Kawa in front of more kin. Hearing that development, Kawa immediately lost interest in the swap meet. While he needed to stay to revitalise his herds, he resolved to visit his old friend as soon as he the meet wrapped up. He wanted to perform the fungal exchange rituals known to ease the transition to a sedentary state – and find out what had caused his friend to seed years earlier than expected. The herders and their herds: From left to right: Kauri - the Ogre’s Eye; Kawa - Firecracker white caps, Sour buttons; Mahoe - pink cap puffballs (mature and immature); Ngaio - Witches’ Steeples; Baob - red-capped toadstools, pink-spotted boletes, red hard-caps Build notes: Comments and constructive criticism welcome!
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- Alright, move! - shouted down the master scribes, to his apprentice, but the ladder didn't move at all. - Apprentice! Did you fell asleep again? - He reached in his pocket, to grab a pebble, and dropped it. The pebble perfectly falls and hits the sleeping boy on his forehead. With a loud snort, he woke up, and lookup. - I'm glad you are with us again Arnoult, now would you be kind, and move the ladder to the right... Right, Right! The other right! - His shout echoed in the dark corridors, as he grabbed tightly the ladder, and tried to protect the ink, from spilling out. - You imbecile! Gently! If the page will be ink-stained, I will skin you, and you will be the cover of the reissued Illustrated Encyclopedia of Crime and Punishment! Do you know how long it took to brother Bertran, to draw that Decorative capital initial? The Boy looked up. He already saw the raven-shaped K letter on the top of the page. Soon, he could draw one of them too. But first, he must survive the terrible fate of the apprentice. - It took three fu... - It took three full days, to draw it! - interrupted the old man on top of the ladder, as he holds a bunch of paper in his hand, and dipped his pen in the ink. - We are already behind schedule! The fourth book is upon us! We need to finish the third one soon as we could! What a surprise! Ran through the thought in Arnoult's head. We are always behind schedule... He looked around in the Hall of History. Books, scrolls, maps, letters. An immeasurable amount of information about Historica. Kept in the dim darkness, of these halls, so the sun couldn't damage both the paper and the content. Letters, pictures, stories, and tales came here, from all of the kingdoms, so the folks down here, can register them, and safeguard them for posterity. In front of the Third Book, a large table take its place. Wast mountains were created with paper, books, and scrolls. And only three brave souls were tasked, to explore it, and find the next topic for the following pages. - Damn it! - cursed the master from above. - The inkpot is almost empty, in the middle of the sentence... Where is an apprentice when I'm in a hurry! - A minute grandmaster! - came the answer, from a moving tower of books. - Just need to put this down... As the young apprentice arrived at the table, he gently dropped down the books. The old table creaked, and the three old scribes peeked out from their books. They look liked the mountainers, who reached a higher point of their journey, to realize: there are still more mountains ahead for them... - Psst! - came hissing from behind Arnoult. As he turned around, the young boy stood behind him. He must be lost in his mind and stared blankly, didn't noticed the other boy. - I saw you always holding the ladder, to the master. How long it took to write these big books. - It depends, how often we receive content. - Arnoult leaned on the ladder next to him, pretending he knows everything. - And why are they so huge? - That's easy. The master is blind as a mole. - he smirked. - And he didn't want to wear glass... Ouch! Again, pain struck his head. He again looked up, just to get hit by another one on his forehead. - Unlucky for you Arnoult, my ears sharp as a fox's. Don't hold up apprentice Dan fulfilling his task! - the master put the remaining stones into his pocket, and look to the other boy: - Don't just stand there! Move, or we will never finish the Third Book! and without Book III. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- When I first read about this challenge, I asked myself: What to came up with. Started wondering about huge beasts, great ancient places, mystical locations. In that thinking, I came up with another realization: Everybody will build their entry around what he likes. Those, who like magic and mysticism will create places with ancient great powers. Those, who like buildings will create ruins and palaces of old times. And me? Well, I like the lore, the history, to tell a tale not only with words but with pictures, little everyday happenings captured in a scene. That is why I choose, to create the Halls of History. To show you not only bildings and landscapes could be ancient, but history and lore too. And also a little humor and 4th wall-breaking. :) Hope you like it! C&C are welcome.
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My entry for CDC2 Category 1: Populating Historica Kaliphlin Kaliphlin merchant Trade is the lifeblood of Kaliphlin, and the merchants are the true masters of the southern realm. Khel'Zarim battlemage Warden of the eternal flames burning in castle Zar, high up in the Rakath mountains. What she doesn’t know about fire is probably not worth knowing. Barqan astrologer The city of Barqa is a center of glass making in Historica, and subsequently its stargazers have access to some of the best telescopes in the known world. Many celestial objects have been discovered and named by these scholars, and even more has been written about the supposed influence on the events of Historica by these heavenly denizens. Petraean swordsman A soldier loyal to the Kaliphlin High Council. As important as the trade itself are the guardians of the trade routes. Avalonia Elven ranger Only seen when they want to be noticed, the elven rangers are keeping intruders and the more sinister beings of the forests in check. Satyr axeman The satyrs are usually a jovial and peaceful folk, who prefer a good evening of dance to the tune of flutes and drums under ancient trees in the forests of Avalonia to adventure or violence. However, don’t underestimate them when they, however reluctantly, have applied war paint on their faces... Antyrian guardsman A true Avalonian warrior. Fierce in combat, loves to hug his town’s hallowed trees and probably wears tights under his chainmail. Mitgardia Husfrue This lady is the wife of a minor Mitgardian jarl, and a former shieldmaiden. While her husband might be in charge of the jarldom, she is definitely the one in charge of the household. The keys to the longhouse are hers, and whenever the men are off to war the thralls of the estate know better than to be lazy… Minotaur geologist The mountains of Mitgardia are hiding many veins of valuable minerals, but only the most hardy geologists can endure to search for them. Be sure however that whenever a rich vein is discovered, dwarven miners are swift to start digging there...if they haven’t already done so from below. Algus warrior Far north of any lands habitable to warm-blooded beings, these frigid creatures thrive. From time to time packs of Algus venture south, causing havoc to the lands of Historica. Last time however, they were thwarted by the searing flames produced by burning black oil from Kaliphlin. Nocturnus Herbalist Many exotic plants thrive in the Moruth Swamplands, and some even dare to harvest them. When harvesting the seeds of some of the more rare carnivorous plants, the herbalist does best to imitate being a plant himself to not be the one harvested for nutrition. Werewolf bounty hunter You would not want to be on this lycanthrope’s hit list... Cyclops matriarch The cyclops tribes of Nocturnus often have strong female leaders. The matriarch is skilled in making various concoctions, to heal friends or poison foes, as well as herself pick up a weapon to fight neighboring tribes or intruding Avalonian adventurers. Varlyrio Illyrian lawyer This counselor knows all the paragraphs, precedent and loopholes of Varlyrian law and can for a suitable sum of gold twist it to any outcome for his client. Adventurer The ancient caves of the island of Varlyrio hide many secrets and riches, and many young noblemen set out to discover these. Rego palace guard Guarding one of the palaces of the Rego is probably the most honorable duty a Varlyrian soldier can have. A peculiar property of Varlyrian armor is that it is usually thicker on its back side. (Thanks @Ecclesiastes for extending the deadline, although it took me until the last day to put an entry together anyway )
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CDC2 CMF : Aurore [Scholars & Spellcasters - and some Scammers too]
Aurore posted a topic in Guilds of Historica
Here is my entry for Category 1 of the 2nd count down challenge - Populating Historica. Let me introduce you to some prominent scholars and spellcasters of Historica. And some scammers too... Spoiler sections contain photos of the back of each minifig (without cape for those who wear one). There are external links to Wikipedia where I took inspiration from the real world... Avalonia : Derwen, Centenary Dryad Dryads care for seedlings like shepherds care for lambs. Did you really think the Enchanted Forest grows all by itself? - Valtan, elven guide, to an oblivious tourist Avalonia : Angharad, Dragon Breeder Dragon breeding is a matter of hard work, patience, and careful selection. Fireproof clothing is a must too. - Catchphrase of her infamous speech at the 124th Inter-Guilds Dragon Husbandry Symposium Avalonia : Cingwi the Enchantress Don’t judge a book by the cover, they say. Well, don’t judge that girl by her shy smile and sweet nature: she knows her sh*t. - Hatto the Half-Elf, innkeeper and philosopher Kaliphlin : Prof. Tahani Noor Aurea, PhD, of the University of Petraea She’s, like, totally psycho! She turned me into a frog just because I damaged a book! - Miri, failing student Kaliphlin : Saanvi, Gemmologist Diamonds are a girl’s best friends. And so are emeralds, opals, aquamarines, and all varieties of corundum. Lapis-lazuli, on the other hand, can’t be trusted. – Saanvi Kaliphlin : Torghur the Farseer Oh my, the seer had told him his future was cloudy! – Varma, Siccus Badlands merchant, hearing of a peer’s death in a sandstorm Mitgardia : Torvi Ulfberhtsdottir, Runesmith There is such a thing as forgery of forged runes, kid, and the runesmiths are ruthless with copycats. – Gordeghag Grumblehelm, weaponmaster, upon being given a sword inscribed “Ulfbetr” by a clueless and soon very remorseful apprentice Mitgardia : Fridtjof Amundson, (Other)world Explorer Crrrzd hssi, jktlvo shhhha ! Frrrriuzd. - F. Amundson, to nixie warlord Gwr of Jötunheim Mitgardia : Uukkarnit, the Boreal Witch Don’t worry, that’s just a little lady walking her pooch. - Algus captain Ubal, a few seconds before being buried with his whole phalanx under a sudden and unexpected avalanche Nocturnus : Crenath of Aziroth, Soul Collector Why would anyone torture souls when you can neatly put them in a jar and admire their beautiful, vivid colours right on your desk? - Crenath Nocturnus : A'angis, Succubus Mistress Oh hello, beautif….aaaargh ! - Every single man who met her Nocturnus : Ozco, Master Embalmer Ever wondered how to protect your undead minions from decay? All it takes is a good embalmer and several yards of linen. - Lich Lord Thagrasel Varlyrio : Secenri, Subterranean Botanist On the surface, light creates the colours. Here, magic does and it is much more imaginative! – Secenri Varlyrio : Vyelarhin the Flawless, Astromancer Cartomancy is a scam, never trust someone who says they read your future in filthy little scraps of paper. Turn to the stars instead! – Teodolinda D’Augustino, momentarily wealthy dowager Varlyrio : Niccolo di Fiamma, Alchemist All that glitters can become gold - Unofficial motto of the Illyrian Guild of Alchemist Cedrica : Raina the Red, Archimage Power is the pivot on which everything hinges. [She] who has the power is always right, the weaker is always wrong. - Some obscure diplomat, writer and politician -
Hired Hands of Historica Queens rule and warriors battle, but workers propel Historica forward. These are the hired hands of Historica. I created these minifigures for the Guilds of Historica 2nd count down challenge. There are members from all five guilds as well as Cedrica. Kaliphlin Jaffar the Monkey Trainer The aristocracy of Kaliphlin likes their monkeys trained, might as well collect extra profit while I’m at it Pouri the Attendant Fanning the king is exhausting Sesur-hat the Scribe Drawing one map is fun, a dozen copies is not Varlyrio Drad the Deck Hand After two months at sea, I long for the harsh Wastelands Sofia the Back Stabber If the poisoned apple doesn’t work, the direct approach will Elias the Net Maker Mending nets is better on my back than reeling them in full of fish Mitgardia Thodil the Ice Cutter I don’t know why humans don’t get their own ice, mining it is much easier than mining rock Aðalgeir the Furrier Harsh winters create the best business Gjertrud the Snow Shoveler I’d give half my wage for a sunny day Avalonia Ailmer the Lumberjack 𝅘𝅥𝅮 I’m a lumberjack and I’m ok… Fanes the Farrier My work is all the separates you from the ground Neddi the Gardener If you step on my flowers once, you won’t do it again Nocturnus Mudgul the Miner At least there is no ghastly sunlight down here Ruak the Bone Craftsman I’m the best in the over and underworld Koglodzar the Slave Driver I can’t believe I get paid to do this! Cedrica Esther the Chambermaid You wouldn’t believe what the Queen did last night!
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Here is my entry for CDC2 Category 1: Populating Historica. Enjoy! Cedrica and Valyrio from left to right: Queen Ylspeth: The Queen of Historica in her “ceremonial armor”, which she wears at certain military functions/ceremonies. Though she rules securely from Cedrica, she worries that she might one day need to use it... Marilla Danza: a tiefling and former slave who freed herself after leading a revolt. She and her crew of freedom fighters have been disrupting the underground slave trade between Valyrio and Kaliphlin, raiding slave ships and freeing their captives. Gerard Renwick Sinclare III: Second son (and the only bachelor) within a powerful family of Valyrian aristocrats. He is the only one in his family without any heroic tales to tell. Having lived an uneventful life, he seeks adventure in an effort to prove himself. Mitgardia Ivar Lonswain: an “eccentric” sea captain who ferries “unscrupulous people” between Mitgardia, Avalonia, and Valyrio. His pet lobster, Claudette, is blood thirsty and capable of surviving out of water indefinitely. She has a body count large enough to fill a multi-volume book. Ivar is the only one who can pet her without being dismembered. The Ivory Priestess: a mysterious priestess who collects bones. Her methods of acquiring these bones vary from rummaging around in the waste piles of butcher shops to brazen grave robbery. Her intentions for said bones are currently unknown. Zapato: a Minotaur butcher of few words. How a member of a usually herbivorous race became an expert on meat is anyone’s guess. People ask him if it "ever feels weird for him to be serving beef" - they receive a death glare in response. Avalonia Gertrude "Gerti" Eilinger: a prominent cultural anthropologist from the University of Albion. She travels all around Historica with her team of researchers. Having just finished a thesis on Cyclops cultures of the southwest Mitgardian lowlands, she has now set her sights on a group of “camel centaurs” (cameltaurs?) that some allege to exist in the Siccus Badlands. This has elicited controversy among her fellow academics, who claim that her theories are “absolutely preposterous”. This has done little to deter the enthusiastic anthropologist, though. Brielle Valken: adopted older sister of Ayra Valken, and captain of the Knights of Duranya. Described as a “natural born leader” who leads from the front, she has earned the respect of her fellow knights time and time again. The same cannot be said for her relationship with the bureaucracy. In a field where nepotism and “favors” leads to promotion, Brielle’s polite refusal to “brownnose” has left her without many allies in the upper brass, and without many means to progress her career. Though this sometimes frustrates her, she would ultimately rather be "on the ground" then cooped up in some office. Shriana: an elven sorceress who betrayed her kind before being banished to another plane of existence. Bargaining with dark powers, she has returned in a cursed, spectral state (neither alive nor dead) to exact revenge on her fellow elves. Kaliphlin Jalla Vaswani: a naga bounty hunter and assassin engaged in a fierce rivalry with Kars. A top earner among Kaliphlani mercenaries, she has become a minor celebrity in parts of Kaliphlin, flaunting her success with expensive silks and the best weaponry. Keeper Radina Roshti: the dedicated (if not slightly aloof) keeper of the Queenscross archives. Located deep beneath the sand, she oversees and guards thousands of years worth of knowledge. Ranging from "schematics of buildings that don't (officially) exist" to "forbidden spells", the texts would prove dangerous if they fell into the wrong hands. Armando Sabatheel: bar tender at the Tipsy Tree. Applying excessive amounts of pomade to his hair (down to his “trademark curl”), he can be smelled from meters away. He claims to be popular with the ladies (proof needed). Nocturnus Magda: a mysterious chemist with an entirely unknown past. There are no records of them or their work in any of the five guilds - their age, gender, race are all a mystery. Ulriq has deduced that, if those records ever did exist, they were likely wiped from existence by those in power. Magda is too experienced in their field to have not had a history. The only things that are unquestionable is their expertise in their field and their complete sociopathy. Recently, they have joined the Crimson Knives after being offered "career opportunities" by Ulriq. Bastio: an orc soldier who fashions himself as a “survivor”, allying himself with whoever he thinks is the most powerful. He has allied himself with Ulriq, but will betray him at the first sign of weakness. Unbeknownst to Bastio, Ulriq is well aware of this fact; he only tolerates Bastio because he “drives him to be better”. Ulriq: the mysterious and charismatic leader of the Crimson Knives. Hailing from an influential Nocturnan family, he was sent to Avalonia before Raavage considered the family a threat to his power. With his family subsequently purged, Ulriq was the lone survivor. A year later, he would join a Cedrican commando unit, fighting alongside Kars and Cobold. Parting ways after the war, Ulriq returned home to his native Nocturnus and claimed his family’s hidden wealth. With Raavage’s purported death creating a power vacuum, the whole kingdom is now in chaos, and Ulriq has sought to make a name for himself by any means necessary. Countess Irina Vachau: living in her isolated castle in northern Nocturnus, she has a prized collection of "vintage bloods" in her cellar. Visitors to her castle also have a nasty habit of disappearing. She insists that she definitely isn't a vampire, though. ___________________________________________________________________________________ When I heard that CDC2: Category 1 would involve a CMF, I knew that I just had to take part! Given my small workspace and limited parts collection, I've never been able to build larger MOC's - instead, I've focused almost entirely on minifigures these past few years. Something like a CMF challenge was one of the few Guilds of Historica challenges I could feasibly participate in. Some behind the scenes info on this series: I had a lot of fun working on this series and watching what the other contestants have/will come up with - I wish you all the best of luck!
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CDC2 Ancient Wonders: the Moonbird Mausoleum (Chronicles of Embervale Ep.02)
Aurore posted a topic in Guilds of Historica
I thought I'd never been able to finish that build in time for the challenge...It's my biggest MOC so far, and hands down my most complex one. I don't even know how many trials and errors it took before those wings actually looked like wings! Anyways...here is my entry to the GOH Anniversary 2nd count down challenge, in the "Ancient Wonders" category. --------------------------- The build: A druidic mausoleum, deep in the Enchanted Forest of Avalonia... --------------------------- The story: Chronicles of Embervale Episode 2 - the Moonbird Mausoleum Read the previous episode Featuring… Alrune The Elf Maiden, Lady of Embervale, mage Dresghar The Chronicler, her uncle, erudite Evrart A soldier Ancient heroes, long forgotten "Uncle, would you please pay attention?" Alrune cried out, desperately trying to drag him away from the lute he was tuning. "I’m reading you a message from mom!" "What does my august sibling want?" he asked, out of pure courtesy. "She wants a heart." How great, this time he did react: he was raising an eyebrow. "A heart? Well, I knew she didn’t have one, but I thought she was unaware of it," he sneered. "And not just any heart. She wants the heart of some girl named Lloergan. It seems to be important for her - she even says please. Twice! As if I had nothing better to do than…" "Lloergan, you said?” Dresghar interrupted. "That’s interesting. What else does she say?" "Nothing. She has just included an antique map, with a red..." He snatched the map from her before she could finish her sentence. She rolled her eyes – with him, there was no such thing as a middle ground. Seconds ago he did not give a damn, and all of a sudden he was like a kid on Midwinter morning. "Druidic. From the First Era, I’d say. Most probably authentic," he mumbled, inspecting the map. "So what?" "So it’s likely to show the actual location of Lloergan’s mausoleum, sweetheart." "Holy pretzel, Uncle! Am I supposed to understand what you’re babbling about? Who’s that girl?" He cast her a bemused look. "What, you’ve never heard about her?" She let out a sigh as a few notes suffused, and he began to sing an hour-long epic drama – the story of Lloergan. It was a rather classic legend, featuring an impossible romance, feuding families, and many curses. But in the end, it all boiled town to a shapeshifter, a druid of ancient times, who gave her life protecting her people from an – of course – evil sorcerer. After her tragic fall, struck by a wicked spell, nothing intact remained of her but her heart. The druids of her circle embalmed it and placed it inside a mausoleum built in her honour, somewhere deep in the ancient forest, in a place long forgotten. "And that’s the heart your mother is coveting," Dresghar concluded. "Given the remote location of the mausoleum, there is a chance it has been preserved from tomb raiders and other inquisitive adventurers. Especially when youngsters like you have so little knowledge of ancient lore!" "Whatever. I’ll send Evrart. He’ll retrieve that heart and mom will leave me alone." "You’ll go with him, sweetheart, this mission may require finesse! Besides, it will do you a world of good to go gallivanting around the forest. You spend way too much time inside with your books and your cats." --- The Ancient Forest was tinged with gold and speckled with rust, yet still full of life and sounds: the joyous trills of lively birds, the gentle babble of puckish pixies, the rustling of leaves in the fresh breeze. Before long, morning mists would enshroud the lakes. Valleys would echo with the roar of mighty stags. And nature would slowly fall asleep, in a flamboyance of light and colours. Valiant heart and noble spirit, the Elf Maiden had set forth for the mausoleum of the legendary Lloergan with a single guard. They had ridden for days, following broad paved roads, then proceeding on narrow paths winding through the forest, and finally making their way through the undergrowth. And soon, in a beautiful glade bathed in sunshine, they reached their destination. [Excerpt from Dresghar’s later telling of the journey in the Chronicles] --- The druids had built Lloergan’s mausoleum in the shape of her favourite animal form, a moonbird. Its wings spread around a terrace, finely sculpted, the large figure was still pristine centuries later. At its heart, framed by opalescent stones, were a massive silvery urn and three delicate statuettes: Lloergan herself, and her two closest companions. "I was expecting something more impressive," Alrune mumbled – in blatant bad faith, Evrart judged, given that she was staring at the mausoleum with her eyes wide open. "And I was expecting a ruin, my lady," he retorted. "Could the heart still be in the urn? This seems way too easy." "We’ll know it soon. Let’s go and check!" The heart, skilfully embalmed, was still in the urn. And there was not a single trap protecting the mausoleum. No warden. No protection spell Alrune could detect. The situation was quickly getting on Evrart’s nerves. His conscience already bothered him about desecrating the grave of a hero and, somehow, seeing said grave be so cooperative with plunderers made their mission feel even wronger to him. "That’s ridiculous!" he grumbled at the end of the day. "How can a centuries old, so-called forgotten place be so…immaculate? Apart from a few leaves on the ground, it’s impeccable. No wild grass, no creeper, not even a proper crack in the stone! And the heart is still there, just like the stones and the statuettes!" Alrune shrugged. "We’re in the ancient forest. Maybe some hermit comes from time to time to clean up? Anyways, no-one remembers that place and no-one ever passes by. There’s no-one to damage the mausoleum and loot its riches." "Well, that is, except from us. Aren’t we precisely here to loot the most precious relic from this place?" A frown crossed the elf’s face, and she did not answer. As she spent the rest of the day sulking, giving her guard one-word orders and replies, he began to suspect his remark had hit a nerve. --- In the middle of the night, while he was sleeping fitfully, he was suddenly startled awake by a harrowing cry shortly followed by a low rumbling. Still drowsy, he drew his sword and rushed towards a faint halo gleaming in the direction of the mausoleum. As a second thundering noise resounded, he spotted Alrune firing some kind of shockwave at two spectral beings hovering and wailing around her. "What happened?" he shouted, rushing at her side before realising his bland steel weapon would have no effect on their opponents. "I don’t know! I was in the mausoleum, and they attacked me!" One of the ghosts brushed past him, cold and distressing, and he felt his strength failing him. The constant howling of the creatures kept ringing in his ears, clouding his judgement, slowing his moves. He stumbled, struggling to keep his balance. He suddenly sensed a sharp discharge of energy, and his sword became colder in his hand. It occurred to him that the blade was now enshrouded in a shadowy, ethereal mist: the elf had cast something on it. He heard her yelling something indistinct, seconds before the rumbling of one of her magic attacks rolled again. One of the ghosts vanished in a last shriek. Evrart pulled himself together and attacked the other one. He had been a man-at-arms since he was strong enough to wield a weapon, and his combat reflexes came back quickly. Already weakened by Alrune’s spells and vulnerable to the now magic sword, the second spectre soon disappeared like the first one. "Why the heck were you alone in the mausoleum in the middle of the night?" Evrart asked more harshly than he actually intended, while glancing around to ensure that no threat remained. "I was putting the heart back in the urn. I can’t…do that anymore. Obey orders I don’t understand. Do fishy things on the whim on my mother. I’m fed up with her caprices and dubious plans!" Evrart remained silent for a moment. The lady’s words sounded somewhat bratty and unclear to him, and he had no idea what kind of things she had done before he got to know her. Anyways. Whatever her reasons, her decision of putting the heart back seemed fair to him. "If you were setting things right, then why did the ghosts attack you?" he finally asked. "They were Lloergan’s two companions, weren’t they?" "I think so. But they were probably not protecting the mausoleum anymore. Most spirits fade after un-death, losing conscience and memory. They might not remember who they were, nor where they were. Then nothing heroic remained in them, only the cold and despair at being trapped in between worlds." --- When they left the place at dawn, Evrart turned back one last time before entering the woods behind the elf. And there, in the morning mist floating over the mausoleum, he distinguished the faint figure of a beautiful lady all clad in white, watching them leave with a smile on her pale face. -
This new challenge gave me an opportunity, to came up with two ideas, but after it was restricted, for only lego parts, I had to release the second idea, and go full with the first one. This time too, I want to show you, another dark part of Historica. The... Crime and Punishment Collectible Mini Figures. As I saw other entries earlier, It was mostly, about simple residents, trades, professions, and sometimes heroes. I want to show you what crimes can be committed in Historica, and how justice will be served! Every Guild has its own ways, to inflict pain, so, let's get started: ---------------------------------Avalonia-------------------------------- - Mask of Shame Punishment for various small crimes. Not every punishment requires blood to flow. Sometimes a little humiliating is good enough. It could be any, smaller disruption, like swearing, brawl, deception, etc. The person must wear a metal mask, with a little bell on the top of it. It will remind the nearby locals, who is coming, so they could greet with a nice word or some rotten food. The victim also has a sign, what was his or her crime. The time also differs, how long must they endure all of this. - Poachers Fate Punishment for poaching. The elves could be cruel too. Especially, when they caught you, poaching and desecrating their forest. First, they catch you. Then, they tie your hands back. And the fun part here starts. They put a bee or wasp hive on your head. Then they release you. They will laugh at you, but you wouldn't hear anything both from your screaming and from the buzzing insects. It could end up in different scenarios: You could blindly run in the forest till you die, from the stings, or smash into a tree, hoping the hive cracked, and not your skull. If you are unlucky, a big brown mammal will join in the pursuit, of the honey. - Witch Burning Execution method. Not everyone likes magic. The simple folks, sometimes couldn't handle it. They see magic as an evil tool, which must be eradicated. The villagers gather in big riots, dragging the suspect in front of the village elder. And he must consider, to save the girl and face the angry crowd, or just simply kill her, so the residents could calm down. Nothing extra, they gather up logs and sticks, tied the girl to a pole, and light the fire. In rare cases, they actually kill a witch, but in many cases, the trials are against girls, who are weird or someone who is envious of her, and this is the best way, to remove her. --------------------------------Kaliphlin-------------------------------- - Hot Situation Punishment for peculation. In Kaliphlin there is a lot of ways, to punish the wicked. For example, for peculation, the accused is dragged outside the desert, tied to a cactus, or buried to the neck. But they gave them hope. A flask of water is placed next to him. So, it will be ironic, die by dehydration, why the water was in arms reach. - Boiling Point Punishment for recidivism. Get punished for a crime, is one thing. But if you keep committing crimes, and you won't learn anything from the punishment, is an error, which needs to be solved. The kind leaders of Kaliphlin came up with this method. With a hammer and chisel, they carve a little hole in your skull. The next step is to boil some water, when it's ready, they simply pour it into your skull. You will never have a sinful thought. Or any other thoughts. - Artifact Compression Punishment, most commonly, for cheating. Magic using isn't a common sight in the art of torturing. It's mostly causing pain, but sometimes there are business gaps. The target audience is the cheated wifes and women, thirst for revenge! The man is lured into a trap, and the paid sorcerer casts the spell on them. Removing moisture from their body, and Turning them into small statues. They won't die, but they not lose consciousness. They remember these times, like a never-ending dream. Oh, and don't forget the thirst. If you want them, to turn back, just simply toss the little statue into water. They will suck it up, like a sponge. Soon a dried and wrinkled raisin-like figure appears. He won't cheat you again. --------------------------------Varlyrio-------------------------------- - Sleep With the Fishes Execution for piracy. Sometimes the executions don't need to be so fancy and expensive. Just grab a chain, some weight, and toss them out in the open sea. While sinking into the depths, with your last breath you can think about, "being a pirate is alright with me"... - The Last Laugh Interrogating method. This time you will have the last laugh. Everyone has their weakness, which the torturer will gladly exploit. They will take off your pants, and put you in the stocks. Then the torturer brings in various equipment, to tickle you. Most commonly, they use feathers, but it could be a plant with irritating touch, long animal fur... even they dip the victim's feet into salted water, and brought in a goat, to lick it. Tickles can be really harmful, if they do it, for long, like vomiting, incontinence, losing consciousness, or die. - Belt of Virtue Punishment for fornication. Not everyone is able to close their legs at the right time. Fortunately for them, this device will not let any intruder in and will remind you all the time during your punishment. It's important, to be clean it unless you want to wear a rusty iron belt around your private parts or stink like a sewer. Don't worry ladies of Historica, there are male compatible models too! --------------------------------Mitgardia-------------------------------- - Freeze to Death Execution method for desertion. No one likes deserters, this is a fact. And there are many ways, to punish them, for abandoning their duty. In Mitgardia, they knock them out, brought them into the northeast point of the country, and left them there. If they wake up, they could try to get back to the civilization, before they freeze to death. Not many could achieve this, and the many frozen statue in his region is a bad sign for them. But, if they still manage to return, they are branded for life. The frostbites on their body will remind them for the rest of their life, what they have done. - Breaking Wheel Execution method. One of the gruesomest ways, to end someone's life. With this public execution, the viewers will think twice, before committing any crime. The victim was tied to a large wheel, and with a large hammer, the executioner started breaking the limbs. One by one. Why the wheel? It says, it was invented by a lazy executioner, who was too lazy, to go around the victim, to break all their limbs. He simply just turned the wheel, to strike down. When all of the limbs were broken, they killed the criminal, and erected the wheel, with the broken body, as a warning to all criminals. - Punishment Shaves Dwarven humiliating method. This method is most commonly used on dwarfs, but there are cases, when it was used, on other races. Dwarves' prestige is measured in their beards. It's a shame if a dwarf must shave it off. And bigger shame, if someone shaves it, for them. So the dwarf has to start growing their beard back again and earn his respect and prestige back again. And to endure the humiliation of others. --------------------------------Nocturnus-------------------------------- - Rat Torture Interrogation method. The torturers are very keen-eyed persons. The best of them don't need expensive devices, just look around, grab a bucket, a torch, and a rat, like... the usual stuff in a dungeon. Put the animal in the bucket, then squeeze the bucket into the victim's stomach, and start heating it. The rat has only one way out, and if you won't start talking, you will be in the way, for the rat's freedom... - Slow Slicing Interrogation method. Every living creature can endure pain. And the torturer's job is to find out, what are their limits. This method is simple, you will need a really sharp knife. Steady hands aren't required. And you start slicing your victim, like a juicy ham, until they stop screaming in agony, and start telling the information, what you need. - Ravaage's Stool Interrogation method. Thanks to Lord Ravaage, many exotic torturing devices were used, during his reign. This four-legged stool, with a wooden pyramid on the top. They started lowering the nacked accused on the pointy edge of the pyramid, ensuring it, to cause pain... "Where the sun doesn't shine". The time for this torture differs, minutes, hours, days, some they hang weight on the accused's feet, to maximize the effectiveness. Torturer And there weren't be any torturing without the specialist. No one knows, what twisted thoughts are in their minds, and what history they had, to drive them in trade. Without pity or remorse, they do their jobs, inflict as much pain as they could, and make sure, the accused cough up the information that they needed. It's a thankless job, but somebody got to do it, or else they would find themself on the wrong end of their devices. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I hope everyone liked my Minifigs. C&C welcome, as always. And tell me down the comments, which one is your favorite? (So I would know how sick you are )
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Here is my entry for the count down challenge "Populating Historica". This is my first thread on the forums and first proper contribution to Guilds of Historica. It was such a fun concept to try! I intend to link as many as I can with my settlement-to-be Notomys, a small fishing hamlet on the coast of the Enchanted Forest. I hope you enjoy! Avalonia: Bayawarra, Jerboan tracker Bayawarra’s knowledge of forest scat was second to none, making him one of the finest Jerboan trackers in the Enchanted Forest. Avalonia: Jultarra, Jerboan trapper Trading marten furs provided Jultarra a living, but more importantly it gave plenty of opportunity to practice archery; her dream was to be the first Jerboan to join the Faerie Forest’s elite Archery Guild. Varlyrio: Marquis of Motu, Human business magnate With Varlyrio intrigue never far from the boil, the Marquis of Motu restored a summer manor in sleepy Notomys; the perfect spot to avoid the (literal and metaphorical) heat. Varlyrio: Lady Motu, Human socialite In Lady Motu’s eyes, a ball was the only way to christen a new manor; invites were sent to all the local Notomys “lords” (insofar as such a thing existed). Kaliphlin: Monoii, Desert Cyclops heiress As heir apparent to her clan of desert Cyclops, Monoii choose to leave Kaliphlin to explore other lands and forge new alliances. Kaliphlin: Arges, Desert Cyclops brute So long as she kept him fed, Arges would follow Monoii to the ends of the earth (which was Barqa, as far as he was concerned...). Mitgardia: Duned’in, Human drunkard Comatose the night the Algus raided his village, Duned’in retreated further into the bottle and further from Mitgardia to escape the ghosts of his family. Avalonia: Sofia, Human fisherwoman Sofia always had a knack for designing snares and craypots to catch even the craftiest of crustaceans. With her father a victim of Drow poison, her skills kept Sofia and her brother Gorki fed. Avalonia: Gorki, Human orphan Gorki specialised in catching hermit crabs; anything larger he left to his sister Sofia lest he be on the receiving end of a nasty bite. Avalonia: Flix, Pixie larrikin For Flix, the work of a pixie was never done: first, there was gathering pixie dust, then there was distributing it; then there was pranking those that visited his fairy ring. Avalonia: Aliạria (Ạria), High Elf herbalist Buck teeth were an ill fit for High Elven standards of beauty - but a perfect target for cruelty. After suffering one too many practical jokes, Aliạria quit the Kingdom of Hesperia and found purpose and belonging as the herbalist and healer in the tiny hamlet of Notomys. Avalonia: Kawa, Grent fungus herder Kawa spent his days tending mycorrhizal fungi and propagating lichen. He was alternatively helped and hindered by his friends Ạria and Flix. Avalonia: Marija, Human widower Left a widower with three infants, Marija discovered a sharp business acumen running the village markets gardens – with support from her mother Đoris. Avalonia: Đoris, Human gardener There was nothing like purpose to roll back the years: Đoris gained new vigour expanding her daughter’s gardens and helping raise her three tiny sprogs. Nocturnus: The Devourer, lich sorcerer Known only as the Devourer, this sorcerer emerged from the fens of Nocturnus during the Drow-Elf War. Now years later, it was rumoured to be sighted again stalking the moors. Nocturnus: Ạrken, Corrupted Drow assassin Its Drow body corrupted by malignant voodoo, Ạrken longed to return to the North and scorch Elven forests to the bare earth. And one of the whole crew together (Flix not to scale!)
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Ancient Lighthouse at Ashkharin The Lighthouse at Ashkharin is one of the Ancient Wonders of Historia. Located on the isle of Gorr near what is now known as Stone Town, this lighthouse alerted ships of northern point of the island. Though much of Gorr’s ancient history disappeared with its inhabitants around the time Kaligem was destroyed, this lighthouse lives on in memory due to its enormous size and importance. It stretched 430 feet (130m) over the ocean waves and its fires could be seen for miles away over sea and land. Before its destruction, it was the tallest building in all of Historica.
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CDC2 Ancient Wonders: The Nest of the Flying Tiger God
Henjin_Quilones posted a topic in Guilds of Historica
The Nest of the Fying Tiger God An entry for the Ancient Wonders category of the second countdown challenges. High up in the Rakath Mountains, close to the roof of the world, lies the Nest of the Flying Tiger God, a monastery and temple complex devoted to the worship of the deity who is said to have once dwelt in Tiger's Nest Cave. The structure is built above, around, and even in the cave, which is very ancient and filled with the marks of the claws of some giant beast. Numerous experts from the University of Petraea over the centuries have come and explored the scored furrows in the rock, and all agree that they appear to be the marks of very large tiger claws, claws larger than any tiger ever heard of. The experts could not agree about whether such a mighty tiger could have existed, or whether a flying tiger had ever existed (for of course, the only way out of the cave is by flying, since the drop from the cave mouth is a thousand feet or more to the valley floor below). Some suppose that it could have been an extremely large and striped gryphon, but no further evidence supported such a claim. But the inconclusive opinions of the experts have done nothing to quell the fervor of the followers of the Flying Tiger God who tend the shrines, nor quench the ardor of the pilgrims who brave the arduous and often deadly trek up into the highest peaks of Kaliphlin through bandit (and dark beings come south from Nocturnus) infested passes. Some say they have seen the Flying Tiger God far over head as they hike the mountains and heard his voice roaring in their dreams. Fresh claw marks occasionally appear in the cave, and shakes caused by his roars have caused parts of the temples to be rebuilt over the years. It is no wonder that this deity is one of the most popular in eastern Kaliphlin and even beyond. ____________________ ......................................... Based, of course, on Tiger's Nest Monastery in Bhutan, a real-life place. But it seemed too good to not include in the Guilds somewhere. -
Tōrō Nagashi Temple of the floating lantern We are different from one another. Each guild is set in its own ways. Each part believes in certain tools, certain gods, certain values. But there is one thing that binds us all. In the end of every battle, expedition or course of life, our destinies are tied together, bound to reach the same destination. Death. It is upon each of us to deal with it and understand what is beyond. Are the final days... final? Mankind has struggled with these questions and yet, the absence of our loved ones haunts our nights. The fear of the inevitable is in our shadows. And it is always going to be. The ancient scholars of the Yureishima Islands have pondered over the matters of life and death for over 3000 years. Their findings were written in a collection of tales in an old, forgotten language, and buried under their shrines and monuments of worship. Stories of honor, happiness and spirituality are spread across the world, waiting to be found and passed on. Some of these writings have influenced each guild, and how each family faces the last moments of one’s existence. One tale, called Toro Nagashi, described the journey of a grieving girl that followed the lanterns in pursuit of her passed grandfather, only to find comfort in remembering his stories. Toro Nagashi gives name to the ritual of the Floating Lanterns, a ritual that honors the dead and makes us remember. The ancient writings were roughly translated and are depicted here below. ________ The dim light of her lantern faded in the distance against the dark canvas of the night, and a single tear found its way across her cheek, leaping and vanishing into the snow. Tōrō Nagashi. It was supposed to be beautiful, to honor the souls of those who have fallen. But it made her heart ache, for that floating lantern only reminded her that even the strongest, the wisest and the most caring, perish before the gods. “Follow the lanterns”, Ojīchan said moments before embracing his eternal sleep. But her light had long vanished along the mountains, taken by the blowing wind. That night, she woke to a distant whisper. And beyond the white veil that covered the world, she saw a distant glow cutting the stillness of the night. A delicate sparkle sliced its way between the trees, into the unknown. As if pushed by the old spirits, curiosity found her, and she followed. Beneath a sea of stars, a radiant glare danced and twirled among the leaves, while the girl, ever so proud, ran in its pursuit. The closer she reached, the weaker it got, and when the glow turned as faint as the last remaining star, she found herself where only her dreams could take her. A frosted spear pierced the night sky over a brilliant gloom. Behind a torii gateway, she realized she was staring at the work of the ancient gods, stepping into a sacred ground. Inside, only one lantern shone. But its gleam, reflecting under the red leaves of an old maple tree, was as bright as the sun. Under a frozen roof of red leaves, she stood beside the one lantern that cleared the night and heard the familiar voice of her Ojīchan say “Follow the lanterns” to fill the void she carried. Eyes shut, her knees dug in the snow, she gasped the frigid air and found her Kokoro. Mind, body, heart, and spirit were one, connected to the invisible force that binds us all. A warm embrace held her tight, and she was taken by all the memories that gave immortality to the living. Ojīchan would always be there. Always. She opened her eyes, only to see the distant light of her floating lantern, flying away, beyond the crops, the hills, the mountain peaks. Arigatō, Ojīchan ________ It is said that those who have gone, walk among us. We need only remember their stories so they will live forever in our every action. Once a year, to honor their deeds and remember their legacy, the guilds perform a ritual of gratitude, influenced by the Toro Nagashi tale. Fluglytka, they call it in high Mitgardian. Aflygum Beorht in high Avalonian. Fanuteayim in Kaliphlin, and Uccelli Galleggianti in old Varlyrio. Each person has its own temple, its own place of worship, a hidden place in our hearts to meet those who are gone. Find that dim light, as faint as it may be, and follow it. And you will find your temple, your gratitude, and your own place of comfort. So, we realize they are never truly gone. We need only... to follow the lanterns. Louis of Nutwood, A tribute to my grandfather Ojīchan (also known as Fiobvr, The Wise), who now floats beyond the frosty mountains of the North. ________ CDC2, Ancient Wonders for Mitgardia. Please comment. Would love to know what you think.
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