TalusMoonbreaker

Previously: https://www.eurobricks.com/forum/index.php?/forums/topic/185879-cdc1-tower-torre-orientale-prelude/ L'assassinio di Brabantio Moccenigo Capitolo due di La Tigre di Illaryian The sun was beginning to set over the town of Porto Caglaveri, outside of Illyrian, shadows fading over the edifices standing around the quaint piazza, one of which was the aged Tempio della Signora del Secchio e dello Scudo, a once proud temple for the revered Sana Argenta. Approaching the piazza head-on was a lone figure, the only one there on that eve. The steps of the figure echoed around the cobbled piazza with the only other noises being the gentle flow of water from the small fountain and quiet breaths from the figure’s snakelike nose. Everything seemed normal about this figure except for the dark tan piece of cloth around the mouth and the mean crossbow at the figure’s side. “È una bella serata,” remarked the hooded figure, looking upwards. Upon looking down, the figure’s gaze fixated on the faded doors, slightly ajar. “Ma non per lui,” the figure finished, advancing on the ajar door. On the inside of the temple, Brabantio was clearing up for the night. He’d gotten the scaffold cleaned free to be used on the morrow for whitewashing the decrypt exterior. But then, the door hinges creaked as the large, black door was opened letting in a bit of the late-evening breeze. “Who is it?” Brabantio called down, expecting another accursed lackey to come in to tell him he was too old to be working this late in the eve. “Ah, Signore Moccenigo. Have you not heard enough of our pleasant conversations to recognize la mia voce?” A cold tremble went down his spine as he heard the voice. He then stood up and dropped the bucket, swearing “Accidenti!” “There’s no time to fool around,” said the figure, drawing the loaded crossbow and pulling out a spare bolt. “I need you to swear – here we are in a cattedrale, che fortuna! You must never, I swear never reveal what you know. Swear it, Moccenigo, by Sana Argenta herself swear it! Look here, the Rego dares to trust you. Bene! Are you worth it, feccia!" Brabantio spun around slowly on top of the scaffolding, looked down and spat at the hooded figure leaning in through the ajar door. “What does it matter to anyone what I am worth?” said Brabantio his voice quivering but now louder and more defiant, “But appestare! I know those letters that I wish to be paid for are worth a fortune. And you, assassina, know it too! There are famiglie that’d pay a million piastres to know this, but your Rego must pay more.” “My Rego?” the figure said, sounding hurt, “he is your Rego too!” The figure then shifted his stance and moved more into the ingress, saying “You see I would give you a chance, you wretch, will you take it or not? “And you would give me a chance, you audacious villana?” Brabantio scoffed, “Am I in your power, or is it not the other way around?” Before Moccenigo could answer, a crossbow bolt sped towards his beating heart. He threw himself down upon the wooden boards, but not in time. He tumbled off the scaffolding, the bolt piercing his side before he could crumble onto the hard, cold flagstones. “There … is another person who will possess the letter, if I die,” groaned Brabantio through his teeth, winded from the fall. Don’t be a fool, assassina!Think through it first! This is but vendetta, not prevention. It’ll be far worse .. for you if you kill me. Someone else will get the ricatto,” he paused coughing,” someone who will do you much more harm than me!” The figure laughed a high, cold laugh. “Oh, Signore Moccenigo, you are tame! “Oh, and I ... have something of yours,” the figure said coolly while pulling out two wrapped pieces of parchment. They were the two letters that Signore Moccenigo had written inculpating the Rego, Luca di Carlo. “Someone else will have the ricatto, you say? Bene Me,” the figure said, raising the crossbow to the shoulder again. “No!” Brabantio cried, feebly getting to his knees, “someone else already read that!” “What? Who? I’m losing my patience, Moccenigo!” “Edmondo Ziccardi,” he croaked. “You’re lying,” the figure retorted shrewdly. “You haven’t given a letter to anyone yet. Would you like for your last words to be a falsehood? If not condannato, then speak up quickly,” the figure said impatiently, the crossbow fully loaded. “Dead or alive, I will fool you yet. You think you know it all! Stolto, you don’t know the future!” Brabantio said defiantly, accepting the inevitable and asking Sana Argenta for forgiveness. “I know your future, Moccenigo,” replied the assassin coldly. The deed was done, the paw of the tiger had struck. The figure then whistled and the sounds of hooves clattering on the uneven cobbles could be heard in the piazza. The figure then left the Tempio, closing the ajar door, never to be seen in Porto Caglaveri again. Il giorno successivo Besides mine Papà, my family was safe. I had seen to that before going with the servant to Il Tempio della Signora del Secchio e dello Scudo in my home of Porto Caglaveri. Papà had gotten the contract to reinvigorate the spirit of that ancient cathedral from the Rego himself. I’d always been suspicious of that mercante and that now led me to suspect Rego of this treacherous act. Sì, he must have set my father up! However, I had other evidence to consider. Mia nipote, Aurelia, had attended a ball the previous eve at the Ziccardi’s palazzo and seen similar documents to what mine Papà had on his desk. Edmondo Ziccardi could be in league with the dastardly Rego, he is my father’s rival after all! “Mio Signore,” the servant questioned. “Are … you alright?” I looked at the servant, my concentration now broken. His face was wrought with concern for me, he seemed genuine. “No,” I replied. We then arrived at the temple, which still had a façade worn from the ages, he had been renovating the interior after all. “I will leave you here,” said the servant, his eyes downcast. “I will wait at this door until you are done, Mio Signore.” I then walked up the steps and pushed open the large, black door, and then saw it. Mio padre dead, slain, with crossbow bolts protruding from his wretched, bloodied corpse. One bolt stuck out from his frail side and the other, his lifeless heart. I knelt besides the physical remains of my father, now only existing in memory. Tears sprung from my eyes as I collapsed onto my knees. “Papà, I know you cannot hear me, tuo figlio Ilazio, but I swear. I swear to Sana Argenta herself that I will make whatever bastardo maledetto did this pay. I will make them pay with their own life! Even If I have to condemn my soul to the depths of Nocturnus, I will make that miscredente pay!” Continua

Very nice Isaac! I think the mushroom farmer is my favorite. Bit busy with my other entry but need to do this one too!

Absolutely ingenious! And very well played. this honestly feels like one of your best Mocs. The architecture and colors are great and the Story, absolutely perfect

Definitely! I’m a bit busy at the moment & my desk is a mess, but I’m up for brainstorming!

Indeed it is! Thanks! Grazie! A lot of the story was inspired by La Cospirazione, including the use of Italiano. (The Varlyrio guild challenge stories were amazing and part of the deciding factor for me joining.) Glad you liked the story and that one line made you laugh!

*This entry has earned 5 XP* Searcher's Journal [Translated from Durese] The Confederation of Independent Systems has been sending aid to the local populace on the farming world of Telos IV during the invasion by the Triumvir, also the location of an old Jedi Temple in the polar regions. At the fringe of this region, my transport has detected an abandoned warehouse used to transport goods to the temple from the farmlands. Searching it could provide valuable supplies to the Telosians and hopefully, information or clues on Mual'oq. The winds howled around the platform, littered with crates of supplies and fresh snow, blinding to the eye from the sun's glare. At the end of the platform, there was the grey warehouse and next to it a mobile plant habitat. Jal moved to circumvent the crates and scattered supplies when a blaster popped out from behind an upturned orange crate and wild red blaster shots erupted from it in quick succession. Jal stood still, none of the blasts hit him. He smirked, his blue finger on the trigger, ready to fire. "Hold," he yelled, "Drop it" The blaster dropped. Jal quickly walked passed the doorway to discover the one who fired at him, a young human researcher slumped against the MBH. He noticed that her shoes were gone and her clothing wasn’t meant for the harsh winds and cold temperatures of the polar region. "I was expecting a Triumvir," he said upon seeing her. She shook her head, looking a bit worried. Jal put his blaster back in its holster. "I'm a researcher, um archaeologist," she began to explain, "well, um, used to until my boss got mad at me. I, um, took a blaster bolt to the knee." "Ah, researcher," Jal coughed, made a quick gesture then continued. "Who was your boss and where'd you come from and how'd you get the blast," he said as he pointed at her injured knee. "Um, my name's not researcher pal." "My name's not pal," he smirked," it's Jal, but credit for being close." "Oh, well, I'm, um, Tolli, uh, Sierras. I'm from Telos and I worked for a dog-faced guy named Mual'oq until I, uh, learned that he worked for the Triumvirs. Then he, um, shot me, left me for dead, for, um, uh, not cooperating, yeah." "Mual'oq was here?" "Um, yes, you know him?" "Yes," he replied, "Tell me everything you know about him." "Well, I'd, uh, love to, but not here. It's a bit chilly," Tolli said smiling. "I have a ship, but first, I need to check the warehouse's manifest records and gather up the supplies," Jal replied. "One problem, I can't walk." "That's," he paused while remembering that her knee had been shot,"a good point." Jal sighed, then helped Tolli into the CFS transport ship and onto one of the medical cubby-beds. After throwing a fluffy, navy blue blanket at her, he walked back out into the cold wind and bright sky and gathered all of the supplies and together with the MPH, slowly loaded the goods onto the ship. Then, he walked into the the warehouse to investigate the manifests. A half-hour latter, he returned to the ship and sealed the ramp door. He sighed in relief, he was closer to Mual'oq and had the supplies, and as a bonus, a new friend. This was a fun build :) The house was inspired by Cube Brick's Abandoned Village on Zeffo moc: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RNIsNohOGWQ&t=24s

Noice! The overall composition of this is amazing, the text, the mountain background, the big, fluffy bird, and the ground. The ground does look a bit patchworky. Not inheritantly bad, but ehhhhh. Really enjoyed the story Somwise!

Great job Louis of Nutwood and Ayrlego! Skål! Saluti!

Does the CMF Challenge count for the 3 required builds for the anniversary challenge?

Willkommen, Bienvenue, Bienvenidos, Kalos Irthate, Benvenuto, Velkominn, Yōkoso, Karibu! Sorry for my language Sam :) Discord: https://discord.gg/fTRt8eEc (We chat, strategise, share wips, and give feedback here.) BTW, how did you find us? Anyways, I hope Honey Lemon dies bravely. May the Force be with You!

Noice color use and blending! That combined with the shape of everything really makes it pop. Also the Sith fighter looks pretty cute.

Noice Samwise! Normally the bright ball of ultraviolet radiation wrecks havoc on lego builds with glare, etc, however it looks great here. The grassy sections look more realistic with the different shades. And great job recreating Lah‘mu!

*This entry has earned 4 XP* Searcher's Journal [Translated from Durese] I was sent with a squad of Freedom Fighter's to the sparsely populated farming world of Lah'mu since I knew the geography and had data files on the planet that the fighters didn't have. We're being sent on a manhunt for all Imperial Remnant Forces; however I also suspect that Sdo Mual'oq is in league with the Triumvirate, only Lt. Tetsu, the squad's leader knows of my personal grudge against the "archaelogist", more of a thief than anything. Strange place to put an outpost... The squad approached the outpost from two sides, one group with Lt. Tetsu and Jal Mes who were approaching the front door, the other with Sgt. Zapal going around the grassy sides. "Imp!" A short blast exchange of blasts, then the imperial's body slumped onto the threshold and one of the soldiers fell. The body was quickly cleared before Zapal got the door to reluctantly open. "Jal, duck!" A bolt went over my head and the stormie went down as Tetsu and her group followed into the outpost. She reappeared quickly, slightly scowling. "Nothing Zapal, looks like they've scrapped most of it and only left a few soldiers behind. Probably just to scare us off." Zapal nodded then said,"Move out squad. Searcher Mes, Lt. Tetsu needs to see you privately." As the rest of the group moved out to hike over the ridges and find other outposts or none, then returning to the ship, Tetsu pulled him aside and said,"We no longer require you to complete this mission, Searcher. Thanks for lending us the data for Lah'mu. Good luck searching for Mual'oq. May the Force be with you." "And with you too," Jal replied before making out for the ridge a few clicks away where he could find their transport. Another would come for them from the Defiant. Inspiration: https://www.flickr.com/photos/inthert/33951825754

1 point Louis of Nutwood 1 point JTooker

1 point Ayrlego 1 point Exetrius

Thanks! Thanks! Thanks! I agree, it’s a great color scheme. I looked at actual Venetian and Italian structures such as the Palazzo Ducale in Venice for inspiration and was lucky enough to visit Venice a few years ago. I thank thee, Sir Louis. I’m glad you liked the round, underconstruction tower! I knew most would go for more square, finished towers, so I wanted to make something different, and time was also a factor for that decision. Yes, I knew you’d like the little inclusion of the mad Rego himself! Fealt like a fun way to insert Ilazio’s story into the world. And yes, hopefully our canals will be scrubbed clean one day. Maybe Bob can find a new job in Varlyrio.

Let the political machicinations begin! The story of Ilazio Moccenigo, Varlyrian Architect begins!

I had arrived at Torre Orientale early in the morning, the Illyrian sun gleaming off the tower’s whitewash. According to the owners of the neighboring palazzo, the top of the tower had been destroyed during the escape on dragonback of the short-lived Rego, Rufus Baiamonte. I didn’t believe this ridiculous leggenda, although the debris from the tower had caused severe damage to Palazzo Occienega. The family had patronized me for the last week as I arranged the clearing of the rubble and made plans for the rebuilding of their stately home. The workers were already scrambling over the scaffolding; the work had just begun, but then a cry, an interruption. A gaudily dressed servant of mine papà walked down the narrow cobbled path alongside the canal. “Ilazio, terribly news! You must come back with me to La Villa Moccenigo in Porto Caglaveri”, he said to me. “Yes, I know where my family lives. Is it news from mine cousin Salvadore in Kaliphlin?” “No, it is far worse mio Signore.” “Explain” “Tuo Papà, Signore Brabantio, was found dead!” I felt my heart skip a few beats. It had been weeks since I had seen any of my family, Ristoro had gotten married last I’d seen him. “Several crossbow bolts were found in him. Mio Signore, I think your father was assassinated.” “Good to know. Why he was murdered and if anyone else in mia famiglia is in danger from the assassins are more important right now”, I replied to the servant calmly, although inside I felt like a carrack in a storm. I then told the foreman that I had to take my leave and where the plans for the tower were kept. I’d briefed him beforehand on how it was to be constructed, so I had no worries in that regard. “If you will then, follow me, Signore Moccenigo”, he replied a bit stiffly. My response had most likely unsettled him. I would’ve been too had I known what the next six months would bring.

Yeah, I can see that. I really don’t know much about the different factions tbh.

Space hobbithole! This honestly tranisisted pretty well from lotr to sw. The idea behind the PA is quite interesting, I always imagined it as the Empire 2.0, but your description of the one idealistic Captain and that they have different ideals and ethics than the Empire or the TT kind of changes that.

For the tower challenge is it ok to only build part of the tower?

Excellent moc Sim! The combo is really cool and as Darth Bjorn said, “mind-blowing”, quite literally. The explosion and the ice cream scoop like snow are pretty well done.

*Your entry has earned 12 XP* The 88th Reconnaissance Corps had been sent to Jedah to scout out the area for Seperatist insurgents. So far they had found none. Chess and Sange had been sent off as forward scouts by their squad leader Hound. Chess sat mounted on one of the corps iconic AT-RTs, while Sange, Rho Squad’s sharpshooter, patrolled on foot. The Morning sun sent glared off of their helmets and made scanning the surrounding area more difficult than usual. “Chess, no clankas or unfriendlies here.” “Practically deserted” “When was the last time we checked in with Hound” “Like an hour ago” “Better contact him, he’s probably gettin’ antsy” “Haha, I bet he is.” -Hound this Chess, you copy?- -Affirmative- -Nothing interesting here. The locals seem to be avoiding us- -Can‘t blame them. You two are uglier than Banthas. Keepmoving then, Report if you see anything- -Will do- “The sooner we get off this sand bucket, Chess, the better” “What, don’t like sand?” “Ya, it gets in my scope, makin’ it a lot harder to see anything.” “Once you get that sand outta you’re scope, let’s scan the next block”

Thanks for the welcomes! Hopefully I can help to revive Varlyrio a bit ;) Anyways, I’m a bit busy with other builds atm, but have a sigfig made. A proper intro will come eventually. The architect Ilazio Moccenigo of Porto Caglaveri pledges fealty to the guild of Varlyrio.