The Yeti

I'm still figuring out the housekeeping side of things on this forum. Nevertheless, here are links to Book I, Book II, Book III, and Book III and a half of Stigandr's travels through the frozen beyond and the northern clanlands.

This will be the last from me for a while, don't want to flood things with too many words. I'll put up a better lighted view of death on my flickr later today. Links to Part I and Part II and Part III Editor’s Note: The following letter is considered apocryphal by the followers of Stigandr, for reasons you will soon know yourself. Three skeletons found themselves suddenly exposed in the harsh cold. They were confused, or rather would have been confused if skeletons could think. Two wore the visage of a yeti, while one had a braided ponytail unceremoniously frozen to the ground beside it. The latter had been speared rather extravagantly with a golden sword, and might have found this a bit itchy had it nerves to feel with. The day passed uneventfully, until night fell and the spirit of death appeared to reap what had fallen. Hmm…. Said He of the black face, cape, and scythe. Hmm? Said the skeletons, having suddenly, and rather grudgingly regained their capacity for thinking on the subject, but also on other subjects like rotten fish and how many drow one could pack into a standard elven packing crate. Hmm…., said He of the many black things again, and swished his scythe, picking up the nearest yeti in a single clean swoop and plucking the soul from his body as you might pluck a petal from a delicate flower, if that flower was seven feet tall and encased in fur and muscle. What has befallen me? Inquired the soul previously embodied as a yeti. You have died, responded He of the black and pointy things, in a tone obviously meant to be helpful. Yes but how, inquired the soul. You have been stabbed, answered He of the pointy bits. I can see that part, the soul added in exasperation, but by whom? Ahhh… by those men over there, answered Death, and he shared with the three souls a vision of men, outfitted in shades of green and carrying many garishly bright things and even more flags. Actually, it was hard to tell whether there were more men or flags in the lot. I see, said the soul, and it would have slumped its shoulders if it had them; there are some things that one simply needs a good old fashioned body for. Death moved likewise to the second soul, who had by now quite learned his lesson and asked only where they were going. I do not handle that part, answered Death, I only take you there. Yes but you must know, the soul chided. I believe to know you must be, alive, said death after a pause. The soul sighed in exasperation. Death turned now to the final soul, but seeing that it was the remnants of a female he turned, pulling from his robe a great tome of names. I am sorry, but it appears I am already over my quota, I cannot take you. Editor’s Note: In those days the great corporation that shan’t be named had saw fit to produce only one woman for every ten of our kind. This being thought fit to please the great holiness of the target demographic. Death, likewise, had instituted a similar quota in his realm. He was rather bad at picking out women, however, having never had any experience at being alive, let alone at having a gender, and so assumed that anything with long hair must be female. This is why the elves of the realm live such long lives, and also why the most barbaric barbarians, their long manes streaming in the breeze, seem able to engage in such a great many feats of brave stupidity before finally succumbing to fate. Okay…… Said the soul formerly known as hvitr, but before she could question him death was gone. He was replaced by a pillar of multicolored light in the snow, which had at its top a man, or something like it, of pure brilliant white. He held in his hands two tubes of a brilliant blue persuasion, and spake in such a deep and powerful voice that Hvitr would have mistaken him for an infocaravanmercial salesman from her youth in Kaliphlin, selling snake oils by the stables. You, lady of the formerly purple robes, said the figure. I guess…. I don’t actually remember what I was wearing. Say who are you and what are you selling, queried Hvitr. I am the Spirit of the Plastic, the figure answered, keeper of the holy ABS. What’s ABS, Hvitr asked. It does not matter, the Spirit said, and overturned the test tubes, pouring out yellow and purple streams of plastic goo in twin rivulets that played about her frozen body. As he did so, great pillars of multifaceted light leaped out of the snow, dancing in the spectacular display. Thus Hvitr was remade, and retained nothing of her grand and blasphemous experience save for the knowledge that her joints worked a whole lot better than usual, that she had apparently found a really great hairstylist, and that she really, really loved purple now. Looking down at her feet, however, she saw the golden sword that had been stuck through her, and gained a spark of otherworldy insight that compelled her to seek out these garish, opulent men and cut them down. She thus set out on her trusty cow, whose name translated in the old tongue means “he who rubs his head upon rocks rather than eat grass” and began the journey east.

Thanks everyone for the great feedback. Gabe: I just build whatever comes to mind with the bricks I have access to, and then try to fill in a semi-coherent story afterwards. It wasn't until after I built the little building that I realized it had this rather ominous face in the front, and decided to leverage that a bit. Moving forward the stories should be shorter though, I've decided to just use tongue-in-cheek half books to fill in the details between builds. Lord Vladivus: Thanks, the two-headed guy is my favorite. My stellar photo editor doesn't like him, however, so you can see he made every attempt to either blur him out of the shots or crop out his offending wizard head

Links to Part I and Part II Stigandr’s Travels: Book III Our southward course carried us to the edge of the beyond and past it again, the sky morphing back into its familiar pale, blue shade. Hugr, myself, and our furry companion had made good time, sticking to the high ground where less snow had fallen to impede our progress. By the second day we had come to the yetis’ intended destination, a small outpost in the lands of men. The camp housed about two dozen yetis, although their similar appearance belied a much hardier constitution. I gathered in conversation that we were to be made privy to a rather intimate event that few men had glimpsed before. The explorer within me did mental somersaults at the thought; here was an opportunity to create novel tales never before told. I awoke early the next morning to join the group. The sun had barely peaked out from the horizon, and the land was awash in the cool yellows of morning. The yetis had arranged themselves in a loose semi-circle, and they seemed singularly intent on whatever task was soon to be performed. Their leader, or perhaps just the one closest to the center then proceeded to reach into a pouch in the snow and produce a small crystal of the ever ice I had previously encountered. It was about the size of a man’s fist, and multifaceted like the finest dwarven gems. Its outer appearance only told half the story, however, for it possessed an inner glow that was at once refined and organic, in fact I was half tempted to assume the glowing movements within were patterned. The yeti proceeded to place the ice into a hole dug lightly into the ground, and then the group backed away slowly. A long moment passed, and I began to think that I had merely witnessed some sort of ceremonial gathering of memories when the ice began to change. It shuddered, seeming to soak up the light around it before bursting out, growing at an ever increasing rate. It seemed to sample forms like a fire samples paths through a forest to find the one of least resistance, becoming this shape and that with nauseating speed. Finally it settled into a broad rectangular shape and began to grow, doubling its size in the first hour. I returned a scant few hours later to find to my astonishment a structure approximating that of a gate house, albeit in miniature form, barely surpassing my own height. The structure continued to grow in this fashion through the next day, and by the mid-day looked almost complete, lacking only the battlements found on the strongest defensive structures of men. It was then that the orcs attacked, although they were of rather peculiar shape. I had heard vague tales of shraliek from the men of the east, strange goblins with hair like the north men, and these orcs were outfitted with beards that my dwarven brothers would even have been envious of. They were well equipped and moved more purposefully than in my previous encounters with orcs, and had brought ogres for archer support and wizards, who possessed a limited command of the element of fire. I admit that my heart had at first begun beating its way out of my chest, for I had seen no weapons in the encampment, and the axes Hugr carried would be no match for this marauding band. The yetis proceeded to produce from one of their great packs gleaming swords of ice, however, seemingly hewn from the same ever ice I had seen earlier. These pieces shown much brighter than any ice I had seen previously, though, and seemed to fade in and out of my sight. They ushered us back to the still growing structure, and charged as one into the marauding band. The skirmish raged into the night, the yetis cutting adeptly through their foes as ice hewn blades sliced through flesh, armor, and sword alike with unparalleled ease. The orcs’ numbers were great, however, and I noticed the arrival of a two headed perversion, one head adorned in a stolen tactician’s cap the other wearing mages garb, that seemed to be directing the attack. By nightfall, the yetis were being pushed back into an ever tightening perimeter around the structure, when Hugr forced me to turn towards it. In my rapture at the chaos around me I had failed to look at it in the ensuing hours, and to my astonishment I found that it had seemingly completed itself. Rows of battlements ideal for hiding the bulk of a yeti lay along its top most face, and a giant emblem of the ice forged swords now stuck out of its center, a gleaming beacon in the surrounding sky. There was something more, though, an inner glow that pulsed from what would ordinarily have been a gate, and the sense that the structure itself was watching, taking in the chaos around it and reacting accordingly. The remainder of the night was passed within this grown gatehouse, the orcs having pulled back to regroup. I was thus given the chance to marvel in its construction, or lack thereof. It had no seams, no bricks or mortar or even textured surfaces. Rather, it was like one huge crystal, composed of stone and ice intertwined in a single whole. We entered through the back, a door opening for us that had previously lain invisible in the faceless wall. The experience was surreal, and twice I thought that I must have gone mad in the snow, my mind creating fortresses of solitude in the rush of the biting wind; but I was surely here, among a group of hardened yetis in a crystalline structure, and surrounded by orcs. They renewed their attack at dawn, this time with numbers that must have exceeded a hundred heads. They brought a brute like beast as well, twice as tall as myself and thrice the width. It felled a tree; changed by the buildings touch to stone like all the others in the vicinity, with a single sweep before charging at our band. To my horror, a single yeti rushed to meet it, a tiny biter in hand. The beast roared up with its fist, but struck wide, hitting a branch concealed beneath the snow. The yeti did not move quickly, but rather consciously, circling forward to dead center with the beast and picking out an angle before lunging forward, an uncoiling spring of death that ended with the blade plunged through the ribs of a skeleton, still stuck to the beast’s midsection, and into its gut. It sliced effortlessly downward, disemboweling the beast in a single sweep. Unfortunately, this display did nothing to dissuade the remaining orcs, and the situation began to look grim. Just as it looked hopeless, however, one strayed close to the gate of the structure, which responded by glowing a brilliant sapphire. To my amazement, the trespasser was then subsumed into the building, the light seeming to carry him inward as if in a trance. The event was met with a rush of energy that flowed outwards from the ever ice, seeming to course through the building as well as through the ice forged accoutrements of the yetis. Their swords glowed anew, and the popsicles they carried, which I had to this point been unable to ascertain the purpose of, suddenly shone with a brilliant internal light. Some of the yetis cast aside their swords, and instead focused peculiar magic from these new focuses. The effect was not just to freeze the targeted orc, but to make it seem as if no life had ever flowed through his veins. The bodies of the nearest ones were similarly cast into the gaping maw of the building, and the power again coursed through the band until the orcs had been vanquished. At this point I could not pick between awe and horror at those around me. They had fought valiantly, expertly, almost perfectly, but they showed a complete disregard for their opponents, cutting here and there as if carving a roast back home over the hearth fire. Then there was the strange display with their building, it now gave off an aura of hunger that made me shudder, and I could not decide whether to brand it savior or monster. How ridiculous it seemed then, to personify a building with such living qualities, but things were to grow far more uncertain in my remaining days. I had gotten what I had wished for when I first set out, new experiences and new reasons to continue my journeys, but perhaps it is best to leave some stones unturned…

Well the avalonian's death looks rather certain, but will the victor's be assessed an environmental protection fine for disturbing the swan's habitat? It doesn't look too pleased to have its lovely purple water tainted with blood. My favorite part of this build definitely goes to the ruined tower, it really pulls things together, good job.

Is there a Lego equivalent of the World Record for most things carried by a single horse, because I think you're in the running. I love the feel of this build. One recommendation on the grass pieces though, if you fiddle with their orientation a bit more so you aren't clashing any of the little stems you can avoid a lot of flexing. The soft plastic deforms really easily and doing that seems to prolong their life a lot for me.

I love the nervous expression on the right woman's face in contrast to the fellow next to her who looks like he is going in for an offhand smash with the chalice, great posing throughout. As to Gideon's comment I think you could have used a sideways snot floor mostly in brown with a few dark tan and dark grey plates thrown in to represent stray thatch and mud. Still simple but it gets rid of the studs. Your scene is so complex, however, that you barely notice there is a floor, so a very minor issue, great work overall.

This has me wanting to try a speed build, you've produced a fairly minimalist but still very effective work. I like the surprise you've conveyed into the drow's positioning, and the confidence shown in that of DG's men. The sign really makes the build for me though, even if it is way off in the corner, it lets your mind wander to thoughts of where those soldiers had been going, great job.

I really like how you've managed to represent all of the colors found in the figs again in the landscape, and the overall design of the tree is stunning. Your technique for showing the exposed heartwood is great too, although it would be nice to have an explanation of what could fell such a mighty tree; will we be seeing 300 foot tall mega orcs in the future?

Link to Part I Stigandr’s Travels: Book II I embarked the next night with my companion, setting forth once again into the frozen expanse of the beyond. It is difficult to define what I saw on our journey, for it was unlike any form I had experienced before. Even my eyes, forged as they were in the fire licked halls of my youth, were ill-matched for the brilliance around me. For beyond the great river the sky experiences a curious change, becoming first a brilliant blue fire, then passing from white into a deep grey that expounds a total lack of color to my eyes. Our surroundings, too, seem almost to exist beyond my dwarven perceptions. Many a time have I found my companion darting about in a circuitous path so convoluted as to make elven ritual look as straight as my kin’s forge hammer. Admittedly, I was at first drawn to laughter at the sight of my companion darting first left and right. For their size and girth, the yetis move surprisingly gracefully, swimming just as effortlessly through the snow as the whales I witnessed in my time accompanying the great whale hunts in the clan lands. Despite the humorous sight, I followed my partner’s movements as best I could, barreling my stout body along in the wake he left in the endless snow, my beard swaying as the great ships of the elves. It was not until two nights ago, however, that I learned why he moved in such a curious manner. It was late, and I had grown weary of our travels as we came upon a short ridge overlooking a long, shallow valley. My companion had shifted left a full ten paces just before we reached the apex, and I, seeing no reason to do so in the featureless white, opted to forge straight ahead instead. It was then that I was introduced to what the yetis so charmingly call “ever ice.” Any comparison to the familiar variety, however, is akin to comparing the fires of Armageddon to your well-mannered coals upon the cooking stove. I had but to scrape my stubby toe against the substance for it to drain the very life from my limbs and nearly knock me flat on my back. Fortunately, my companion had taken notice of me, and with a great heave pulled me up and onto the edge. Once I had regained my wits and my bearing, I could now make out the valley before us. At its fore, it presented the same featureless void that we had journeyed through now for six days and as many nights, a uniform white expanse that made me yearn for the familiar, dirty greys of my homeland. Just beyond, however, I could make out the marks of trees, real trees with a hearty green color, and the return of texture and elevation to the landscape. We pushed forward now, and I did so with renewed purpose. Coming then to a group of frozen lakes at the southern edge of the expanse, we set about searching for any form of sustenance or supplies that we might use for the continuation of our journey. It was as I rounded the corner to view one of these lakes that I spotted a most curious figure. Sturdily built, he wore armor favored by those throughout Mitgardia, but on his head he wore the antlers of a great moose, apparently in reverence of the lesser spirit of the North. I met his gaze, and he looked at me, motionless as the frozen ground beneath him. I made my greetings in the tongue of my kin, and in the many tongues of Historica. He responded in the ancient dwarven tongue, applauding my knowledge of the language of our forefathers and urging me to join him. I did so, albeit uncertainly, and could see then that he had worked a minor conjuration, turning the ice around him into a mirror into the worlds of the past. I must have spent a quarter day there with him, as memories and the past swirled about us like sand playing about the many dunes of Kaliphlin. It was then that my companion returned, having found some game and berries in a nearby rise, and greeted my new friend in the ancient tongue as well. The dwarves of the moose, it would appear, have made the northern journey into the lands of the yeti for centuries in search of the purest ice to perform their rituals of remembrance. I thus learned that this follower of the moose was called Hugr in the old tongue, meaning courage, and that he intended to venture south again in the morning. He offered to accompany us, and we both assented, particularly as my companion’s knowledge of the lands of men was scarce. There is much more to say, reader, but that shall have to wait for another letter. There are some more images on my flickr, and if you want to spoil books 3 and 3.5 you can look at the build images on my flickr. I'm currently working on book 4 and will hopefully have stories for 3 and maybe 3.5 up tomorrow. Cheers.

Jodocus these are a great throwback to the classic era. I think out of everything I like the roleplaying element the best though, it is highly amusing to read all of your posts from Jester and Fool's points of view.

It seems to be largely a function of Mitgardia being the only guild with easily accessible building challenge that caters towards new builders in LOM and AOM. The university is nice, but I know I found it rather imposing on first read through with all the mention of "mastery" and "advanced techniques" and such, and the other guilds don't really have anything active at the moment to get new people involved now that the nocturnus tribes event is finished. Closing Mitgardia stops the imbalance, but maybe not until there are attractive building options for the other guilds?

I found them adorable in a pitiable T-rex sort of way.

I'm going to put this here but it really applies to all four of these builds. You're making significant effort in these mocs, but you could really benefit from making them slightly larger and, as previously mentioned, by adding a little more detail. There isn't a whole lot of direction in the AOM original thread, but a phase 1 build does not necessarily have to be tiny or bare bones. It simply reflects a less advanced stage of development. Mitgardia may be covered in snow, but flat fields of uniform white are relatively uncommon occurrences. Before people came to build the archery range there would likely be patches of permafrost, animals, rocky outcroppings, trees, slopes, ice, etc. Let your imagine run wild. I think you would really benefit from sitting down after building something and spending some time thinking about how you might make it better, more imaginative, more uniquely you as right now we seem to only be glimpsing a small portion of what an original "Tomsche" build might entail. Some things to think about as you work on phase II.

I really like your campfire, and the classic feel you have with the old era knight. Like soccerkid said, however, adding some height around the water would make it look much better. I am not sure what you mean by smooth grey angle bricks, but I would recommend just building the surroundings up by about 2 plates around the water surface. In terms of ice effect, I would recommend quite a bit more ice than the single 1x1 plate you have at the moment. The other thing I have seen throughout these phase 1 builds that you would benefit from is working in some pieces that allow you to achieve non right angles. Working in some hinge pieces, wedge plates, curved slopes, and other softer geometric shapes would really help your building feel more alive and visually pleasing. You don't have to saturate your builds with these pieces, lego used them quite sparingly in the classic era you seem to be trying to emulate, but adding a few to your builds would really help.

I love almost everything about this. The perspective, the shot framing with the two trees, the organic nature of the dragon, well done! About the only thing I am confused by is the gradient in the background, is it meant to convey different sky tones or a boundary between sea and night sky?

There are a lot of elements in this moc that I really like. Your minifigs, for example, are very artfully posed and convey a nice sense of life to the scene. I also appreciate that you've tried to branch out into a bigger scale and that you made a conscious effort to avoid the dreaded big grey wall by mixing together light and dark grey. With that said, however, there is definite room for improvement. As it stands, your exterior landscape would benefit greatly from putting the moc on green rather than grey baseplates; I am not sure how well that poor tree will fair growing in stone. You could also use some plates and more ground cover that would help the lively scene mesh better with the environment. In terms of the structure, it is still missing some 3d texture, either through more slopes or inclusion of snot, and some overall detail. Some decorations and non right angles would also be nice. Please don't read this as harsh, I am merely trying to give you some tips to improve. You have the fundamentals here on the small scale, I just get the impression that you got ahead of yourself and compromised while trying to scale up your building.

Sounds good Jester, welcome. Also welcome to Syn and Ricky, looking forward to your sigfig pics. Congrats on joining, we have free popsicles

Nice flashback and good use of the same base with a few minor changes. I would have probably taken out the jumper plates though since they were used to prop up Corocus in the first part but have no purpose here. Otherwise good work, and I like the effort you've put into your character's back story.

Others have already commented on the bigger points so I'll focus on the little details I liked the most. The man hiding away in the foundation is a great touch, and that shot has a nice angle in general. I really like the little crow perched in the highest point of the chimney, and your poor, tortured brick built tree is well executed. I think my favorite element though is the frog, whatever is he doing in all that snow and death?

This is very good, I like the use of multiple shots of the same build to convey different parts of the story, and the posing is top notch. Your presentation could really be improved, however, if you either used a single white sheet or poster as your backdrop or if you used GIMP or photoshop to clone away the lines between the pieces of printer paper, it would help highlight the excellent energy in your mocs.

So I'm not in Kaliphlin, but that is genius J.V.D. Glad to see other people expanding things beyond boring humans.

That waterwheel is amazing. I also really like the off-center hut, particularly in the 4th photo; it feels almost real. Thumbs up for the inclusion of the yeti and elf, they're great little touches. Your sense of movement and life with the wheel, figs and river is also impeccable, great work. My only constructive criticism is that it looks like you post-edited your photos to make them more vibrant, and it almost seems too intense; although that may just be my yeti snow blindness.

I think my favorite details are the fish vendor and the small blue house within the castle yard, a bit of a shame that you can't see it in most of the photos. Your water/ice is also very well done, although it doesn't look like that boat is going anywhere any time soon. I also like the mix of building styles in the castle; it is busy, but it seems to come together here quite well. Overall there is a nice density to this build that makes it feel solid and imposing, very well done. Oh and thumbs up for the excellent snow work and inclusion of the white flowers still on their sprues.

The shot composition in the first and last pictures is wonderful, and I especially like the blurred flames in the first one; it creates a very convincing approximation of real fire. Your work with the manipulated sewer water is great as well, although the walls feel awfully fancy for a sewer system. Great work.