Search the Community

Showing results for tags 'hesperia'.



More search options

  • Search By Tags

    Type tags separated by commas.
  • Search By Author

Content Type


Forums

  • Frontpage, Forum Information and General LEGO Discussion
    • Guest Section - PLEASE READ BEFORE YOU REGISTER!
    • Frontpage News
    • Forum Information and Help
    • General LEGO Discussion
  • Themes
    • LEGO Licensed
    • LEGO Star Wars
    • LEGO Historic Themes
    • LEGO Action and Adventure Themes
    • LEGO Pirates
    • LEGO Sci-Fi
    • LEGO Town
    • LEGO Train Tech
    • LEGO Technic, Mindstorms & Model Team
    • LEGO Scale Modeling
    • LEGO Action Figures
    • Special LEGO Themes
  • Special Interests
    • Minifig Customisation Workshop
    • LEGO Digital Designer and other digital tools
    • Brick Flicks & Comics
    • LEGO Mafia and Role-Play Games
    • LEGO Media and Gaming
  • Eurobricks Community
    • Hello! My name is...
    • LEGO Events and User Groups
    • Buy, Sell, Trade and Finds
    • Community
    • Culture & Multimedia

Group


AIM


MSN


Website URL


ICQ


Yahoo


Jabber


Skype


Location


Interests


Country


Special Tags 1


Special Tags 2


Special Tags 3


Special Tags 4


Special Tags 5


Special Tags 6


Country flag

Found 7 results

  1. Historica United A story illustrated by builds, for Category C of Challenge V of Book II. Like most of the Category C entries, this is a picture- and story-heavy post, so it may take some time to get through. I hope it will be worth your while. Part I: In the Halls of Hesperia The story of the beginning of the end has been told elsewhere, in the tales of the build-bards of old, of intrigue, murder, magical items, quests, and alliances. Thus this is not the beginning of the end, but the beginning of the end of the end, if you follow. And the beginning of the end of the end begins in one of the furthest corners of Historica, in the far west of Avalonia, in one of the last remaining pockets of High Elves in the known world, the Kingdom of Hesperia. High Elves seldom get involved with the affairs of men, yet in times of the greatest peril they will venture forth with their glittering array of armor and gilded weapons. This is one of those times, with the threat of Raavage and his magically-unleashed threats of doom for all the living, and yet it is not so simple for the King of Hesperia, Fingolë the Golden. In his halls in his summer palace, at Istolia, he met with his trusted advisers, his two eldest children, Falaria and Fingalad. Suddenly, ignoring his guards, his youngest daughter, Galaria, and several others burst in. "Father," cried Galaria. "You must listen to me!" "And why should he listen to a child as rude as you?" retorted Falaria, speaking in place of her father, who sat on the throne glowering at his impetuous, almost wood-elf daughter. "Surely you have heard the message that Celdrian has brought?" said Galaria, gesturing to the blue-clad Eagle-Rider beside her. "Of course I have," spoke the king. "But neither he nor you were invited to this meeting, were you? And is that a human in my presence?" "Yes, Father, it is. This is Henjin Quilones, a knight of the Druidi Order, whom I found while on patrol in the forest. You also saw the fireball flying through the sky, did you not? That was his arrival, and the sign that the fulfillment of the prophecy is at hand. The true king of all Historica returns!" "Bah!" exclaimed the king. "A druid he may be, or perhaps not. I have no use for humans, nor dwarves, nor even lowly wood-elves. Begone from my presence! And think well before coming before me again uninvited, Galaria, my daughter." "May we have permission to search the library of the palace here, Father?" Galaria asked before leaving. "Search all you want, just do not disturb my councils again!" shouted Fingolë. __________________ "A charming fellow, your father," said Henjin when they were safely in the library. "Indeed," agreed Galaria. "I would like to say that he takes some getting used to, but even after four hundred years I am still not used to his arrogance and pride. He is obsessed with the proper place of the High Elves, and as the years go by he thinks less and less about what is good and true and beautiful in the universe, still less about the fate of Historica." "Are you sure this is the proper section of the library, Galaria?" asked Henjin. "These stacks are palatial; I have never seen such books and scrolls in my life." "Well, whatever else can be said of my father, he takes it very seriously to have a record of every book, parchment, decree, spell, recipe, or anything else ever written in the four lands, and beyond, in his libraries. There are plenty of maps here, but which is the correct one?" "We need something referring to a helm, the Necromancer's Helm," chimed in Celdrian, the messenger, who had joined them in their search. "I thought there was just a battle over helms a few years back," said Yavenna, Galaria's most-trusted elf-scout. "That was the Elemental Helm, this is the Necromancer's Helm," corrected Galaria. "Very different, though both helms." A shout came from the balcony level and the others saw Henjin waving a tattered scrap of parchment over the railing. "I have found it! This scrap tells of the location of the Necromancer's Helm!" "Quickly, then, let us compare it to the maps and mark the place where the Helm may be found," said Galaria. "Then what?" asked Yavenna. "What do we do when we know where the Helm is?" The group fell silent. They had not thought that far ahead. Henjin joined them below and they stood around the table in the library, pondering. "We need some way of neutralizing the magic of the Helm, I think; something to control the arcane flows that radiate out from a magical artefact like that." Celdrian looked up at the druid in surprise. "Did you say 'arcane flows'?" This time it was Henjin's turn to look surprised. "Yes, I did. Why?" Celdrian smiled. "I know just the people who specialize in the regulation of arcane matters, on a very practical and technical level. Make a copy of the map and everything we know about the Helm, and I will bring it to Zotharith and Onicimus; they will know what to do." "We also need to have the armies of the various guilds ready to fight, in a unified front against our different, and yet united, enemies," said Galaria. "I will bring letters to leading men in the guilds, telling them where to bring their troops and when, while I am on my way to deliver the map to Zotharith," said Celdrian. "Aeriglaaac flies faster than the wind, so we can have it done in no time." "When you are done, return here and collect us," added Galaria. "We still need to make sure the True King can retake his throne." Part II: Heroes Assemble And so Celdrian mounted on Aeriglaaac the Great Eagle and visited the four guilds, bringing messages to leaders far and wide. As he flew eastward over the forests and plains of Avalonia, he stopped in Eolas first, to deliver the message to the Maestro: Soon he met deGothia in the halls of Sionnach: Then he flew north across the mountains of Mitgardia and visited Fin of Terydian on the edges of the tundra: Sir Glorfindel was next, near the gates of Nordheim: Then the mighty eagle flew on the back of the North Wind, faster than the currents of aether, and was soon in the lands of the south, in the Guild of Kaliphlin, where he stopped in Barqa to meet the half-elf Lord Gideon: Katoren was next, with the Lord Aymeri greeting him by the gate: Finally he flew further east to Nocturnus, and visited Lord Vladivus at Shadowmere: A stop in the lowlands near the Reach allowed him to visit Gal-Turok, Leader of the Goblin Clans: After many miles, though only a few hours aloft, Celdrian and Aeriglaaac circled down over Zotharith. Part III: Zotharith Council Meeting In Zotharith, a council meeting was underway, with Exetrius standing in for his father, Onicimus, who was busy tinkering with his gadgets far beneath the city. That such an inexperienced and low-ranking member of the Order should be leading a meeting rankled some in attendance, but all held their tongues out of respect for their leader's wishes. Exetrius called them to order. "If we could find the Helm, my father thinks that we have both the manpower and the technical knowledge to disable the Helm and its magics," the white-haired mage said. "But what of Raavage?" said one of the others in attendance, General Zeruko Urima. "My armies are well-trained and well-equipped, but I am not sure they are ready to face the dreadful power that is Lord Raavage." "Even Raavage cannot defeat an entire army of warrior-mages, General," replied Exetrius. "We will bring a combination of your warriors and some of our best mages, so that we shall not fail. We will also be provided with several of the arcane-regulation devices that link up to the core that my father has been building, which should, if the calculations are correct, neutralize the artefact entirely. If only we knew where it was!" At that moment, Celdrian knocked at the door and entered. "I think I can help you there, young Exetrius," said the elf-messenger. "My friends have pored over the extensive libraries of Hesperia and discovered the location of the Helm you seek. They have included instructions in that letter, and marked the place here on the map in red." "Thank you, Celdrian, and may the wind be ever under Aeriglaaac's wings." "May your mana never run short," said the elf as he bowed out. "We start tonight!" cried Exetrius after the elf had left. "We cannot afford to waste even one day in this quest, since Raavage has already had several days' head start. Let us go!" Part IV: The Great Battle of Historica While the Zotharians were travelling to the location deep beneath the Rakath Mountains that held the Necromancer's Helm, the armies of Historica were on the march, too. From every guild, from every race and people, the armies came forth. The enemies of the guilds also marched forth, drawn by the reports of spies that the guilds were gathering. And so the battles were fought between the armies of the four guilds and their deepest enemies, enemies united behind the banner of the Black Spire. The Battle of the Moruth Highlands In Nocturnus, Gal-Turok led his goblin armies in the charge in the Battle of the Moruth Highlands, joined by the armies of Anfauglir, Lord Vladivus, Anzar the Dragon Master, and Lord Jorrith, among others. The press of black horses against the charging Uruks of the Hand of Corruption carried the day, despite the chanting of witches giving the Uruks strength. The charge was glorious and valiant, and the army of the Resistance won the battle, scattering the remaining Uruks in every direction, to be picked off one by one. The Battle of the Shifting Oasis In Kaliphlin, it was the Barqan fire that won the day, burning through the armor and flesh of the High Council troops who had joined with the Spire. Not all had, and many within Kaliphlin chose not to fight at all, as the scars of the civil war were still too fresh; but those patriots who desired peace and the return of the True King to Cedrica bared their blades and fought with those who wished for dissension. In the shifting sand dunes outside of the famed Shifting Oasis, the two armies met, and the High Council soldiers, and the occasional orc, were routed. Led by soldiers of the Desert King, Barqa, Katoren, and Khadira, the armies loyal to the cause of the True King rode off victorious. The Battle of Crystal Tarn In Mitgardia, the Algus were stopped once and for all at the Battle of Crystal Tarn, when the Mitgardian men, led by Sir Glorfindel, Lord Fin, Sir Gunman, and Davok Shieldbasher, among other great northern heroes, and an army of dwarves met the onrush of the mysterious ice-people. Despite the blasts of cold and ice launched by the sorceresses of the Algus, the Mitgardians stood strong with their dragon-forged steel and destroyed their enemies. The Battle of Green Leaf Pass In Avalonia, the Drow armies were annihilated at the Battle of Green Leaf Pass, with not a twisted dark elf left alive. The Flight of Dragons, led by Lords de Gothia and Alric Drondil, together with the Maestro and Brandon Stark, some elves, forest men, and one strange half-elf, charged up the pass and broke through the Drow lines, and Laesonar did the rest with a few well-placed leaps and swings of his katanas. The back of the Drow army was broken, and it would be years before they could muster another army and pose a threat to anyone. All of the free peoples of Historica were participants in the Great Battle for Historica, fought on many different fields but all joined together in one spirit. Part V: The Chamber of the Necromancer Meanwhile, beneath the Rakath Mountains, Lord Raavage finally reached the crypt that held the Necromancers helm. The only problem was that instead of one helm, there were eight. "Which one is the Helm I seek?" Raavage muttered. "Which one is it?" He reached out to first one, then another. Each felt distinctly magical, but he could not tell which was which. Behind him he heard a noise, which caused him to turn around to see who had made it past his guards. It was those infernal Zotharians, the mages who refused to join him despite his many threats. No matter. They would be dealt with once he had the Helm. "Raavage!" the white-haired one in the front shouted at him across the chamber. "Step away from the Helms and we will not hurt you." "Ha!" snorted Raavage. "Hurt me? You? A half-grown, 39th-ranked mage? Did Zotharith have no one better to send? Did Daddy not want to come himself, so he sends his little runt in his place?" "I am not alone, Raavage, as you can see. I have behind me some much more powerful mages than I, and what is more, I have the knowledge of which Helm you seek, which, from the looks of it, you lack." Raavage growled. "How can you be so sure, Little Mage? Did Daddy tell you?" "No, an Avalonian druid and elf princess did, after studying the lore available in their library. It is really quite amazing what you can learn if you read, I hear. Not that you would ever bother with such mundane matters yourself, I am sure, being a big, tough beast like you are." "Grr! Which helm is it, Zotharian?" "The helm you seek will call out to you, if you listen. But be warned, Raavage, the lore says that if you choose the wrong Helm, it will destroy you utterly." "Are all of these fake, then?" growled Raavage. "Except the one real one?" "No, they are Helms of different powers, but they are not powers for the likes of you and me to tamper with." Raavage turned his back on Exetrius and felt along the alcoves with his magical intuition, seeking the call that the Zotharian had said he would feel. He was not sure why he felt that the mage was trustworthy, at least in this matter, since he seldom trusted anyone for anything, but he did. At last, feeling over the second-to-last helm, he felt a small tug. Nothing much, nothing he would have noticed if he were not on high alert, but it was there. He lifted down the helm and began to laugh. "The power is mine! After I don the Helm, I shall slay all of you and raise you back up, and you shall be my undead slaves!" He put on the helm, still laughing. But his laughter soon turned to a scream, as the powers of the helm he had donned began to age him and rip apart the fiber of his being. His fur turned grey, and then white, and then all his flesh wasted away until he had nothing but a skeleton remaining. The body of Lord Raavage fell to the ground, lifeless, his soul sucked from him by the Helm he had chosen. Even the bones vanished, leaving nothing but the Helm and the armor of the once-mighty lord. Exetrius and two of his companions came forward, carrying arcane devices. "It worked, just like you said it would," one said. "All we had to do was use the device you are holding to alter the flow from that helm just enough to make him choose it," Exetrius said. "It was rather simple after all." "What does the other device do?" said the other. "That will close up this cavern and lock it into another dimension, inaccessible to Historicans again. Let's get out of here and activate the device. Raavage is defeated." Part VI: The Throneroom of Cedrica "Are you sure the King is in here?" asked Henjin as they stood outside the door. It had been recently repaired, it seemed, and the mortar was barely set around the new hinges. There had been no king in these halls for years, and some work had been necessary to get things back in order. "Yes," said Celdrian. "The King is in here, as everyone has told us." "Very well, let us enter." To Henjin's surprise, however, it was not a King who sat upon the golden throne, but a Queen. A young, very beautiful queen. "Welcome, my friends," the Queen said in a gentle, mellifluous voice. She stood up and came forward to greet them, and they bowed before her. Henjin proffered his sword to her, and she accepted it kindly. "Your sword, Knight Henjin Quilones, of the Druidi Order, I accept and return to you. Bear it well, for me, Ylspeth, your queen, and may you always fight for the cause of truth, justice, and right." "I shall, my queen, Your Highness." "You have done me great favor by bearing tidings to my people, allowing our armies to overcome on the field of battle, and our mages to overcome in the realm of the arcane," continued the Queen. "I shall bestow upon you whatsoever you wish to show my gratitude." "I wish nothing, my Liege, save to be counted among those loyal to you," said Henjin. "That, and I would like to know how you came to be on the throne, alive, when all the rest of your family is dead." Queen Ylspeth laughed, and it sounded like clear water flowing over rocks, like the the honeyed song of birds. "I shall tell you, then, Druid Henjin, but not here. I am parched, and the wine here has been awful without the proper government in place. Do you know the Grand Griffon Tavern? The proprietor, Master Gabbold, is an old friend of mine, and he keeps all the best in his cellars. Let us go thither and talk over some drinks." "Do you mind if I bring a few friends?" asked Henjin. "Not at all! The more the merrier!" Part VII: At the Grand Griffon Tavern "When Henjin said a few friends, I assumed he meant a few friends," said Queen Ylspeth to Princess Galaria as they were pressed by the bodies of many sweaty warriors fresh from battle. "Well, he has made connection with many folk from the different parts of the kingdom, so getting to know them all will be helpful for you," said Galaria. "In fact, Your Highness, in this room are many of the most important figures in your kingdom, all eager to hear your tale." A voice somewhere in the room shouted, "Three cheers for Queen Ylspeth!" A loud cheer erupted from many voices. Then the room grew silent. "Thank you all for joining us here. Master Gabbold will be happy to serve you whatever beverage you like, and the tab is on me, so do not stint yourself. Aymeri, I see you drinking tea, you can get something stronger if you like. Lord Vlad, O-positive? Good. Many of you are wondering just how I came to be here. My father, the late king, was killed by Raavage soon after Revolword was deposed; the rescue party came too late. I, either by good fortune or bad, was away from Cedrica at the time; indeed, I was away from Historica at the time. I was aboard one of my father's ships, sailing from distant land to distant land, exploring the different islands, meeting new peoples. I hope that all of you have a chance to do so someday, as the world is so much larger than you think. It was my father who sent me, perhaps realizing the danger the kingdom was about to face, on my sixteenth birthday off to sea. One day, on an island far, far from here, away off west, I came across news of my father's murder. I wondered about the fate of my brother, fearing the worst, and the worst was confirmed at another stop. My mother, too, was cruelly butchered at the hands of Raavage. Knowing that I was not prepared to rule, and that to come back then would be suicide, I stayed at a western island, training with an order of warrior monks. They taught me their wisdom, gave me access to their library, and trained me in their manner of combat. When I was judged to be proficient, nay, a master of both wisdom and war, I came back. It seems I was just in time to inspire the last forces of good to make a stand, and to do so with success. My eternal thanks to you, my brave warriors, for all you have done. I am forever in your debt." When the queen had finished, those in attendance gave another loud cheer and called for another round. Lord Gideon, who had arrived late after grooming his horse, got his drink. And as the talk went on, Laesonar, who had never moved far from the queen, finally managed to strike up a conversation with her. "So, Queen Ylspeth, are you seeing anyone?" "Not currently, no," she replied. "But surely you will need heirs to the throne, right?" the half-elf persisted, putting out the vibe. "I suppose so, yes, but I have not yet met the right man." "You have met me, now," he said with a cheeky grin and a wink. "I am sure I shall have hordes of suitors lining up. Perhaps I shall hold a joust of some kind, or a contest, to winnow down the candidates?" The end. ________________________________ ................................................................ Wow, so if you read the whole thing, good for you, and thank you! I hope you appreciated it and enjoyed it. More pictures can be found on my Flickr page, especially of the battles. C&C is of course welcome. I tried my best, with the parts I had, to make as many sigfigs as I could, but I know that I missed many, many figs of some really excellent builders. Please take no offense at any omissions, as I assure you that no one was left out on purpose. I for one am glad this contest is over now, and I can go back to regular, leisurely building. And spending time with my family! If this wins, by the way, Queen Ylspeth can be made easily with either Rey's face (from Star Wars: TFA, for fleshies) or Wyldstyle's face (from The LEGO Movie, for yellows) with Barbara Gordon's hair from The LEGO Batman Movie. I tried to pick elements that are currently available from relatively cheap sets (the hair is found in a CMF, for example,and Rey's speeder was only $20US) that will continue to be available (with more SW and another TLM in the works) for a while, while still being distinctive.
  2. The Armored Bears of Hesperia A Build for Challenge V, Category B, on behalf of the Alliance. In the land of Hesperia, an elven kingdom in the far west of Avalonia, nestled in the depths of the Enchanted Forest, there are many beasts of great size, from giant eagles to mighty dragons. Among the fearsome creatures one might encounter under the shade of the magical trees, typically in the upper regions of the highlands, are enormous brown bears. Fiercely territorial and aggressive when provoked, nevertheless the elves have managed to recruit their aid in times of need to serve as mighty beasts of war. Blacksmiths work long hours to create custom armor to protect the mighty frames of the great bears from enemy projectiles while not seriously impacting the mobility of the noble creatures. Here, at Rogobel's blacksmith shop just outside the walls of Istolia, a major Hesperian settlement, Rogobel and his assistants are working around the clock to turn out armor for the bears. Urgaalikku, a proud Ursine chieftain, is receiving his armor. To keep the bears from leaving as the heavy metal is pounded and riveted around them, the bears are fed a steady supply of fruit and vegetables. "Rogobel!" shouted Haladrian. "We are going to need more fruit here pretty soon! Chief Urgaalikku is hungry today." "You've been working at the forge all day, Rogobel," said Tirian, his lead assistant. "Let me take a turn at the anvil." "Grab your own from the corner, Tirian," grunted Rogobel, "and make yourself useful rather than standing around like a maiden in a daisy field." "Feladrim, I'm glad you are here," said Drogo. "Did you grab the case of rivets from the shelf like I asked? I have to add the next row of plates above this one or Rogobel will be on my case." "Um, no, I grabbed the forward-mounted crossbow, like I thought you asked." ________________________________________________________________________ ................................................................................................................................................ Thanks for looking! C&C welcome. This thing was rather difficult to photograph, but I think it turned out alright in the end.
  3. The Chronicles of Hesperia Volume 1: The Sky Man Chapter 3: The Return of the Druids The Previous Chapters: Henjin Quilones and Galaria, daughter of King Fingolë the Golden, walked a little away from the campsite of the others. It had been a long day for everyone: Henjin and his brother, Bu'kanjin, along with his companions, had endured a crash landing and an unexpected transformation; Galaria had ridden far on wolfback to reach the impact site, and then suffered the loss of one of her elf warriors when she was shot by Bu'kanjin. They all needed rest, badly, but first there were some questions that needed to be asked, and answers that needed to be heard. Henjin was the first to speak, as they reached the shores of a small lake. "Princess Galaria," he began. "Just Galaria, please," interjected the elf. "Galaria, then," continued the man. "Can you tell me more about the druids of your world? I read some of the inscriptions on the stones back at Stangraf, and they told me some things, but there are other things I would like to know." "Well, to begin, the druids left many, many years ago, after their race began to die out, and they left behind a powerful magic spell, hidden, never found, somewhere to the east of here among the islands. Then...they just vanished...turned to dust, the old stories say. Whether that is true, I do not know, since I was born here in Hesperia many centuries after the elves moved west, and even my father has no personal knowledge of the druids. Why do you ask, Henjin?" "Curiosity, I guess. Where I came from--and the memories get fainter every moment, so that I am not sure where that was--there was an ancient mystical order dedicated to preserving peace and justice, using the deep powers of the universe, the Living Soul of All Being, you could say; we could do incredible things, impossible things, even, except save people from death. Though some tried. Some were seduced to use those powers for selfish ends and became evil, but most of us used them for good. I think that your druids here in Historica might be the same as, or at least very similar to, the Druidi Order of which I was, or perhaps still am, a member. When a member of the Druidi Order died, typically he would be cremated, but some learned how to just...disappear, become one with the Soul of Being, just like your druids did long ago." Galaria turned to Henjin. "So...are you saying that you are a druid?" "I think so," said Henjin. "I am, and my brother is, too. That is how we have such quick reflexes to catch arrows, and do other impossible things." "But you could not save Ankeria after your brother shot her." "No, sadly, her soul had already gone to the Halls of Waiting, and I have not the power to recall anyone thence." "I see." A moment of silence passed as they looked out at the wind rustling the reeds on the shore of the lake. Somewhere far off a bird sang a song of evening. Galaria looked up, her eyes narrowing as she gazed at a dark speck just above the horizon, moving quickly across the setting sun. "Come quickly now, Henjin Quilones, Knight of Stangraf and the first of the New Druidi Order of Historica; we must make haste. I have seen one of the Great Eagles of Hesperia winging his way swiftly through the heavens, and it was unmistakably Aeriglaaac and his rider, Celdrian, my father's most trusted messengers, whom he sent to the far east to learn of the tidings of war. That he flies so swift and sure to Istolia, where my father is visiting, is a sure sign that something is afoot. We must go thither more quickly than I had planned. We go tonight! ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ........................................................................................................................ Thanks for looking! C&C welcome. It's not much to look at, but I needed a build to move the story forward a bit, as well as explain a few things. A few more small builds will be forthcoming in order to set up a Category C story arc.
  4. The Eagle at the Great Wall of Hesperia A build for the Alliance in Book II, Challenge V, Category A "We have to make all speed, Aeriglaaac, to get this message to King Fingolë the Golden," said Celdrian the Eagle Rider. "The eastern elves were very particular about making haste. The heir to Cedrica returning will be news welcome to his ears, I think, even if the humans of Avalonia and all of Historica are hardly his concern. Lord Ravaage certainly is his concern, though." "EEAAAAAK!" "You're right, Aeriglaaac, as usual. It would be fun to buzz the tower over at the peak of Oronech, wouldn't it? I love keeping those guards on their toes." "EEAAAAAAAAAAAK RAAAAK!" "You see Prince Fingalad at the tower with your eagle eyes? Excellent, a chance to show off our flying skills!" "EAAAK EEEAAAAAAK EEEEEEK!" "Ok, alright, your flying skills, then." "EEAAAAK!" "Let's go!" "What the..." said Prince Fingalad. "Eagle Riders. Cocky bunch. How I despise them, however useful they may be." More pictures: _____________________________________________________________________ .......................................................................................................................................... Thanks for looking! C&C welcome. Hopefully the overhang is not unreasonable. The base of the build is 248 studs, slightly smaller than the 256 of a 16x16 base, though the decorative border adds to that (but doesn't count, thankfully).
  5. Evening Falls Like a Vulture's Wing A build for the Spire in Book II, Challenge V, Category A As the sun set below the horizon, Ellardin the elf messenger slumped back against the rock. His body was afire with pain every time he moved, as the spear points and arrows lodged in him dug a little deeper into his vitals, and it would not be long now. A rustling behind his ear caused him to look up. A black vulture was perched on the rock inches from his face, its eyes looking hungrily from its red bald head. Ellardin looked away and sighed. His bloody fingers clutched the letter to King Fingolë the Golden, knowing that it would never make it to its destination; those drow huntsmen had made sure of that. More vultures circled and landed around Harafel, his horse, as the light dimmed. The sound of beaks tearing at the soft innards caused the elf to shudder, which in turn caused him to cry out softly in pain as the points worked inwards. The evening was falling quickly now, and the vultures were coming in thickly. Darkness had come. More pictures: --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- .............................................................................................................................. Thanks for looking, and C&C welcome. Gideon's vulture design was the inspiration for this build, so a big shout out to him for being inspirational.
  6. The Chronicles of Hesperia Vol. 1: The Sky Man Ch. 2: The Crash Site The previous chapter: DISCLAIMER: For those of you who may be extreme GoH purists, the following build may be disturbing, as it does contain some Sci-Fi elements. To ease your concern, however, let me assure you that after this chapter those elements are gone and a pure medieval fantasy vibe is all that will remain. The unwholesome elements are my way of introducing a character that I had been using for many years in builds with friends, in a different galaxy, far, far away... [edit: Druidic magic is behind these events and causes the non-Historican elements of them to be erased from the memories of the participants after they happen, so do not be concerned that they will be entering into Historica on a full-time basis; such 'pollution' is not, and never was, my intention.] Galaria peeked through the trees and bushes at the sight before her. Her wolfsteed, Laika, she had left back in a small meadow with the wolfsteeds of her fellow Hesperian Wolf Rangers, so that they could approach closer without being seen. Some of her rangers climbed trees for a better vantage point on the smouldering mass in the clearing. The fireball had landed in the center of an ancient ring of druid standing stones, erected long years before the first elves had come this far west in the world. The druids themselves were gone for many centuries before Galaria's father, Fingolë the Golden, first established the kingdom of Hesperia, and that was an age ago in the land of sunset. The smoking hulk did not look like any meteorite that Galaria had ever seen before nor like any she had heard tell of; if she were not certain that it could not be true, she would have said that it looked like metal, a giant steel cylinder that fell from the sky. As she watched, a panel on the side opened, revealing a brief glimpse of the interior as a man stepped out. The man was clad in tan robes and wore a brown cloak over them, and carried in his hand a metal tube that vaguely resembled the hilt of a sword, though no blade was attached. His tousled, wavy brown hair framed a handsome face with a roguish grin. His eyes moved over the landscape swiftly and Galaria shrank back into the bushes instinctively. Soon the man was fully out of the sky-cylinder, and another, also clad in tan robes and brown cloak, carrying the same type of metal tube followed, and then came a small army of helmeted and armored figures carrying some sort of black thing in their hands, held almost like she had seen a crossbowman hold his weapon during a marksmanship contest two summers before. Weapons of some sort. With the exception of two of them, the armored figures were clad in greens and browns, camouflaged for thick forests. They quickly made a defensive perimeter around the sky-cylinder. The two cloaked figures examined one of the druid columns, together with one of the white-and-green clad figures. Galaria could hear their voices talking in a strange tongue, one not spoken in Historica, at least not by elves, dwarves, men, orcs, drow, or any of the tribes of Nocturnus that she knew of. The other white-and-green figure came over, and both armored ones took off their helmets, revealing a brown-haired man and a golden-haired woman. The woman clearly thought that they ought to move away from the crash site, by her hand gestures, and followed that up by stepping past the Druid column. To Galaria's amazement, her clothing and gear changed the instant she passed the standing stone, looking like a typical human warrior woman with a bow and quiver. The armored man, amazement on his face, also stepped past and underwent a similar transformation. "That was incredible," the man said in perfect Hesperian Elvish. "I cannot believe what just happened, Thorra; can you?" "No, Gree, I cannot," replied the woman in equally excellent Hesperian. "Henjin, Bu'kanjin, you two step across now and see what happens." The robed-and-cloaked men also stepped through and were transformed, the one called Henjin now wearing ancient druidic armor and Bu'kanjin wearing a different style of the same. The others wearing armor gathered around the edge of the stones and began to take off their helmets, revealing more men, of colors more familiar to Kaliphlin traders than Avalonian forestmen. Suddenly one of Galaria's Rangers, Ankeria, stood up and drew back her bow, letting an arrow fly. In the blink of the same moment, the man called Henjin caught the arrow that was aimed for his heart in his hand and Bu'kanjin fired an arrow of his own, piercing Ankeria in the neck and killing her instantly. The humans were on high alert with arrows nocked on taut bowstrings, with more of them stepping across the stones and transforming all the time. Galaria's small band was vastly outnumbered and, by the signs of it, outmatched in skill. She stepped out from behind the foliage she was using as cover, right in front of the Henjin, the Sky-Man, and said, "Put down your weapons, we mean you no harm." Henjin smiled at her and she felt her fate entwine with his as his voice spoke to her. "Greetings, we are strangers here in this land. My name is Henjin Quilones, son of Henjin Quilones, and this is my brother, Bu'kanjin. We have journeyed far across the heavens, called here to this land by the Force." Galaria nodded. "And I am Galaria, daughter of Fingolë the Golden, the king of Hesperia. If you have been called here, it was not by us, but perhaps by the power of the druids in whose circle of stones you landed and whose armor you bear. There is an ancient prophecy that said that the true king of Historica, the great and vast land of which Hesperia is but a tiny part, would arise, after a star fell from the heavens, to battle and defeat the dark scourge of the land. Are you he?" asked the elf maiden. Henjin shook his head. "No, I know nothing of your prophecies, and I am no king. A humble Knight am I, not yet even a Master. But I shall gladly join you and your father the king in the battle against that dark scourge. My sword and bow are at your disposal." "And mine," said Bu'kanjin. "Thank you both," said Galaria. "Now, you had better follow me away from the stone ring, called Stangraf by the Druids, O Knights of Stangraf, before any orc or drow patrols come and investigate. I shall take you to Istolia, the city where my cousin governs." "Very well," said Henjin Quilones, the newly dubbed Knight of Stangraf, and he and his companions followed the fair elf maiden into the eaves of the forest. ________________________________________________________________________________________________________ ................................................................................................................................................................................................................ Thanks for looking and reading! It has been a long time since my last Hesperian build, but much has happened between then and now (moving twice, starting a new job, etc.) so it is good to be back building in the Guilds again, C&C welcome!
  7. On behalf of the Resistance in Nocturnus: Deep beneath the Rakath Mountains, hidden from those uninitiated into the Cult of Kanohau, the god of Fire and Volcanoes, lies the holy temple of Kanohau. Even most Nocturnians are unaware of its existence, or of the race that tends it, for it has but newly made contact with the dwellers of the upperlands. There, in the heart of an active volcano, the lava-born gather each summer solstice, when the sky-fire burns the longest, and offer their gifts to their powerful god. The offerings of food and wine are intended to feed the hunger of the fire-god, who could starve otherwise without the added fuel, and ensure that the flames continue to warm the people of the lava and that the rivers of lava continue to visit their towns and homes. The food and wine offered are taken from the upperlands, plunder from raids to the surface, proof of the power of the lava-born. The entrance to the temple is carved from the surrounding bedrock. The fiery face of Kanohau greets the acolyte daring enough to approach, glowing in its wall-shrine. A bridge connects another part of the cavern to the temple itself, arching over a river of molten lava pouring out of the temple. Here Magmarthan, a queen in her land to the west, beneath a newly-risen volcano, pays tribute to Kanohau, accompanied by her minions. Kanohau especially likes turkey legs and sausages, but fish and sometimes even vegetables are also acceptable tribute. And wine. Kanohau loves wine, but only the dry red varieties, like a nice Cabernet Sauvignon. White wine is for sissy deities, and beer is for horses. Queen Magmarthan is well-aware of Kanohau's preferences and has chosen an excellent vintage of CabSauv stolen from the finest vintner in Avalonia. Within the temple are three shrines. The main, central shrine is to Kanohau himself, while the other two are shrines to Gem of Eternal Fire, said by the lava-born to be the source of all fire in the world, and to Kilahau, Kanohau's semi-divine son, the first king of the lava-born, who was conceived when Kanohau laid with a river of lava. .............................................................................................................................. _______________________________________________________________ This is my entry to the second Nocturnus minichallenge. It was rather difficult to photograph as I designed it with too much enclosed space, preventing light from getting to the middle of it. However, the shrines are easy to remove to provide access to the interior space. I still find myself wishing for a better camera and better photography "studio", as the pictures hardly do it justice in my opinion, but they are the best I can do with my current budget and resources. C&C is welcome. *I have edited the post to include an affiliation; I chose the Resistance for this post because I imagine the lava-born do not like the Drow, being competition for underground space, and they reside in the western portion of Nocturnus under the Rakath Mountains.