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Lord Alric Returns to the swamps of Nocturnus to do battle in the upcoming civil war. This one is for the Resistance My entry for the challenge. Thanks for looking and happy building!

Just a quick little build of the Ostrich Knights. With the unrest of the Civil War, and the tyranny of the Desert King, the Ostrich Knights patrol the sands and keep the peace as best they can.

The first part of the Elemendi Story: http://www.eurobricks.com/forum/index.php?showtopic=121423&hl=elemendi As Kha opened the door to The Maritime Inn, he was assaulted by a myriad of senses. Foremost of course was the combination of odors of roasting pheasant, stale ale and unwashed bodies. He turned and looked back quickly at the sign just outside the Inn, it was a clever combination of a smiling sailor aboard a ship. With a chuckle at the at pun the innkeeper used to name his establishment located on the southern coast of Kaliphlin a days ride northwest of Ras-el-Ahken but not quite to Mypa Stedor, Kha continued through the door into The Maritime Inn, or The Merry-time Inn as many of the locals referred to it. The interior was dimly lit, and heavy with smoke from both the fire burning in the hearth as well as the many patrons and their various pipes. The smoky odor was riddled with different aromas hinting of spices and weeds from all over Historica, but all of them were strong enough to be noticed. He looked to the corner where he knew his contact would be waiting. The Inn itself was built with a tall ceiling nearing twenty feet, with windows all the way up that look out upon the Great Southern Ocean. In the distance out upon the sea, Kha could see the darkened clouds that made up the vortex of The Void Tide a few miles off the coast. There seemed to be nowhere in the place where space was not used for something. There were barrels of all sorts of sundries or potent drinks all over, shelves and crates of other goods. Even the air space was used up with strings of lights, supports that held up Kha knew not, and nets of other goods hanging above the patrons heads. But there, at a table in the corner, and facing the door to see Kha when he entered was Masa. Masa is another member of The Resistance here in Kaliphlin, and Kha’s co-conspirator in this current endeavor. Joining Masa at the table was what appeared to be a mercenary or some sort of adventurer that Kha did not know. “Masa, good to see you safe!” Kha said. “You as well Kha. May I introduce Jarrick of The Dragon’s Cape. He is the man I was telling you of that knows that which we seek.” Masa said with a sidelong glance to the closest table. It was a habit both Masa and Kha had seemed to fall into lately since the Desert King began hunting them both. “Hello Lord Kha of Ras...”Jarrick began. “Let’s skip the formalities and lower the volume.” Kha said and also looked around the gathering room. “I cannot afford to be known anywhere in Kaliphlin as it stands right now.” “Understood, well I suppose I should get right down to business then.” Jarrick took a drink from his glass, and Kha could smell the pungent odor of strong spirits as he tilted the glass. “I know what you seek, and what you need in order to supplant The Desert King. The are referred to as The Elemendi, and once were a common sight across all of Historica. They are race of beings with an affinity to the Five Elements.” “Five Elements?” Kha asked. “Last I knew there were four elements, and Revolword already tried to tap that power.” “Revolword was an amateur compared to the Elemendi. And yes, there are five elements. Earth or Stone, Fire, Water, Air and Life. Each of them has its own power, but when they work together, even more can be accomplished. Some of them can boost or assist the others. That is where the trouble started!” Jarrick paused again to take another drink. “Three thousand years ago, the Elemendi were all over Historica. They live for centuries and can tap these powers, but when they mate, it is for life and they never have more offspring than two. It was impossible, the mother would pass during the third pregnancy. I don’t know if it was some sort of divine limit placed upon them, or just the cost of the magic, but it was never recorded that three children were born from a coupling. As you can imagine, that power was craved by those in power. The elemendi themselves were never interested in politics, they seemed to garner a joy of life simply from helping. But, those in power always have resources, and those resources led to ways to control the elemendi. I don’t know the details, or how they did that, but that was when much of Historica was plunged into a dark time. Wars raged across the land and the elemendi were controlled by both sides.” Jarrick looked away as if seeing that faraway time himself. “The power of the elemendi was tremendous. The five elements each meant so much more than implied. Water, the ability to manipulate any liquid and control all of its properties. The ancients used it purify water and help with agriculture, but once the wars started, new uses were found. Freezing the blood of victims too weak to resist, creating great fountains of ice and water that were used as weapons and so on. Fire, the ability to manipulate heat and flame. Once used to provide heat and food to the masses, it was turned to a burning inferno of destruction and death. Air, once used to aid in transportation, was then turned to be a razor focused tempest of destruction. Earth was used to terraform and mine for needed items in colonies, became an earth shattering force of destruction. Once the warmongers took over, they soon learned the elemendi could also control metal and used that in so many destructive ways it couldn’t even be recorded well enough to lend merit. Finally, the Power of Life, used originally to grow plant life and heal, it was distorted to its opposite and used to snuff out life and harm rather than heal. “The cost of the magic and its destructive properties began to take a toll on the elemendi and they began to die off, unable to rebuild their population. They were lost to civilization, wounded and retreating to where they were believed to be extinct.” “But they are not, you are implying?” Kha asked. “No. They are still around, but in such small number and in such fear of abuse that they remain hidden. But, there is man who lives deep in the Rakath Mountains who has some elemendi under his control. He is known only as a collector. He has spent lifetimes collecting races from around the world, and he has some of them in his keep.” “How do you know?” “I have made contact with someone who has escaped from him. I was given first-hand account of what transpires there. He has rows and rows of cages and prisons full of creatures only known in imagination. What is worse, he is intelligent and creative. He has bred different races, just to see what it would beget. Some of them have been bred with the elemendi and have gained some sort of control over the elements. Not to the extent of a pure bred, but he has found a way to produce their magic to some degree without being limited to two births.” Kha exhaled and leaned back. Looking over at Masa to see if he believed this tale as well. “That is horrible and incredible at the same time,” Masa said. “If that is true, those poor souls lead a tortured life and need to be freed no matter what!” “And, they could be a great ally in our cause against the Desert King.” Kha added. “But, I agree. We need to help them out, and once free we need to share our plight. If they are sympathetic, we would welcome their help. But, we cannot force them.” Masa looked Kha straight in the eyes, and Kha could see the emotion there. He knew that his friend was as hard as steel, but could see the empathy for these poor souls. As he watched, Masa’s eyes darkened and they both turned to look back at Jarrick. “I am glad to hear that you both understand what is at stake.” With that, Jarrick tapped the floor four times with his boot. The front door of the Inn opened, and immediately everyone turned to see what had seemed to swallow the light. Kha was speechless as he saw what appeared to be at least a 10 foot tall cross between a man and an elephant enter the Inn. His girth was large enough to match his height as well, and he was heading directly toward Kha and Masa. They exchanged glances and began to set themselves for trouble. Jarrick, just chuckled and set down his drink. “This, gentleman is Bronos. He is the one I was telling you about. Bronos, introduce yourself.” “Hello gentlemen, my name is Bronos of the Mastadoni tribe. I assume that Jarrick has told you of my origins.” His voice was surprisingly gentle for a beast of his size, yet still sounded as if it were coming from down a hallway that amplified and deepened its tenor. “I was born from a Mastadoni in captivity with the collector. My mother was bred with a Water Elemendi and I am what resulted.” “Bronos….it is a pleasure to meet you! I think we may be able to help…”, Masa turned to Kha and saw the same look of awe on the face of his friend.

"Damn ol' man! This was the last time!" Cedryc the Innkeeper came running out of the Leaking Barrel. "Where me coin? I've got enough dopey boozers here, I don't need a bilking wizard!" The old man mumbled an unintelligible song and tottered along the path. "I swear it to you, Perry, Coin now, or that door will remain closed for ya." The wizard stopped his waving walk immediately, pricked up ears and eventually turned around:" Cedryc? Is that you? Ah...my old ears. I thought I heard someone. What can I do for you?" "Don't take me for a fool- You heard me. Just foot the bill." Peregryn Ratchett, the purple wizard straightened up, trying to pose with great dignity, and said:" You are in luck today, Mister Barliman. For I am a wizard, and not one of those smirking charlatans, who try to confuse the more simple men with their conjuring tricks. Nor I be one of those who speak with somber voice, moaning and talking of dark things to come, only to frighten the good rural men. I am a real wizard, and real wizardry is my craft. So speak, how can I serve you?" "Oh no! Not again! I know your wizardry. What's with that 'enchanted frying pan` you gave me last time? You transfigured my daughters cat. Every time I put it on the fire it starts screaming miserably. And I cannot lay a fish in it without it vanishing." "Meeeoow", the frying pan made a purring sound in Cedry's hand. "It takes great knowledge to cast such a spell. You should be aware of my skills. Once kings asked for my advice and many a noble lord beseeched me to grant him a glimpse into his fortune." "Ha! Fortune! say you what: If you really can let me have a look into future, then I forget about the bill." Perry made a meaningful expression:"So be it. But you shall be warned! Even a small glance into a man's future could drive him mad. Neither do I have the possibility to destine the time and place of the vision, nor can I influence what you will see. Now we need something...a looking glass, ah, the kitten will do. Hold up the pan." The purple wizard held his hand upon the frying pan, mumbling spells in a obscure deep voice, his eyes closed. Suddenly the bottom of the pan seemed to dissolve, and a sallow green light shimmered through. Then the vision came: "Meeow!" The frying pan flew away and hit on the ground, now being the kitten again. "What? Where? Why??..What?" Cedryc, the poor Innkeeper cowered on the ground, still starring into the pictures, which now were burned into his mind. "Hm...That was not right. The effect was by far too strong. My poor Cedryc, I am afraight these things were not destined for your eyes. I warned you that I have now influence on it." Perry felt very sober now. He sank into deep thoughts about what he had seen:" Great things are about to come. War is coming to these lands again. The Black Spire's forces are on the rise. And the fate of the East, and maybe of all of Historica now depend on very few who are still bolt enough to challenge Lord Raavage. I must hurry. It seems that I have a part to play again in the greater story." "What are you talking about?? What did you do to my eyes? Just get out of my head!" "I feel somewhat guilty for your current condition, though I did warn you. Maybe I can effect some other magic to help you out? But hurry, I' am busy now. I have to care about greater things than an Innkeepers daily worries." "Leave, just leave for king's sake! Forget about the bill- just go! What insanity to open a tavern in the bloody Darklands! I'll go back to Albion!" Cedryc ripped of the door and stumbled inside. "You are right, my dear friend. There is no time to waste. I must go now. Hopefully it is't too late." So this is my first contributin for our collaboration about the Nocturnus resistance. I hope you will like Perry Ratchett, the purple wizard. He will have a lot of screen time in future stories. I'm not so happy with the pictures of the vision. Originally I had something more nebulous in mind, but I wanted to finally post the story. Enjoy!

Finally the next chapter of my story in the Nocturnus Resistance. Make sure to read this one first: Glance into the future "Our board council prefers to keep a sceptical attitude towards your youngest plans, my lord." So many words for so less content. Osric wondered if the Strigoi enjoyed steeling time of their mortal clients by pointless statements. "These plans are yet not firm. The situation is changing from day to day. But we must take action soon." Osric could see the lifeless eyes of the vampire lurking out of their deep and dark holes:"Time lessens indeed for your cause. And so does any confidence. Our institute demands securities. While your success in the Kaliphlin war was with no doubt highly gratifying, this campaign offers very few capital gains." The rat's tail was winding in anger by that last comment:"It is not about profit. My cause is nothing other than the survival of the east. And for your business' sake this should be your request as well. What future will your it be for the Royal Bank of Nocturnus when the Spire triumphs? Do not forget that.". The Strigoi began to stare in a menacing way at the lord of Skavenport. His voice was now unconcealed in its snarling nature:"My lord... the Bank of Nocturnus has seen countless dynasties rise and fall. We have outlived wars like rainy seasons. We were always there. We have always been. Doubtless there could be found an agreement with lord Raavage. We are not bound to every day politics. For now, we rate your credit worthiness higher than that of the Black Spire. But evaluation can be changed. You better do not forget this. I will report your request to our council. Good even, my lord rat." It was late in the night, when Aethelrat and Dunstan arrived in the council chamber, finding their lord in deep thoughts. "I greet you, my bolt captains." Osric enjoyed the presence of these two, although not the reason for it. "My lord, whatever your decision may be, our men can be ready for march within two days." The man with the harsh lineaments stood ready to attention, as always. "I still haven't decided now, Dunstan. Things have changed as you will be aware soon." Osric went to the end of the long table, and made a gesture to follow him near the fireplace: "Three ravens, three messages. One is bad, one is good, and one is probably worse than the first. I haven't decided on this as well. Choose what comes first!". Dunstan was a soldier as loyal and brave as the most honoured Avalonian knight, but he jsut was a soldier. He could easily be overwhelmed by too much choices. "May I suggest, my lord, to act chronological." Aethelrat was more of a gambling nature. He loved to act in a posh attitude, but nonetheless as reliable as Dunstan. Osric tried to remember which raven had arrived at first. He was sure it had been the one carrying the bad news:" So be it. This one arrived in the morning. It came from a spy in Port Wrath. He reports the death of Lord Vladivus." His captains didn't seem surprised too much. Aethelrat spoke first: "I hear this rumour in every tavern from the Northern gate to the harbour. Our spy probably spent his pay on a beer in Port Wrath and picked it up from someone." The rat captain looked pitying:" I still don't believe it, my lord. How often did one hear word on the street that Raavage had been seen plugging your head on a pike. And you are still enjoying our company." "Our spy reports he saw one of Vladivus' own men selling his master's skull to a witch clan." It took his captains a moment to digest. "It...could still be anyones skull. It is said that most skulls in Historica are nearly identical." Aethelrats voice proved his self confidence a liar. "Perhaps. But it is fact that the lord of Shadowmere vanished, and until his return, may it be from exile or grave, he cannot help us. And this questions our whole campaign." Osric took the second letter, when Dunstan finally had found words to comment on the first one: "Lord, even if we lost lord Vladivus, there is still Shadowmere. We have pacts that must be fulfilled. I can not counsel you to remain in Skavenport." "Then hear now the second message, from Sultan's Gate: Pharao Ankh Mora'Raa gathers his forces in Kaliphlin and prepares for a march to the Darklands. He calls for every loyal man in the South to join in our fight." "Wonderful words, in my ears, although I wonder how many 'loyal' men he may find in his own realm." Aethelrat had found back to his regular cheerfulness. Lord Osric knew he now had to destroy this silver lining with the last raven: "I made a decision. After discussing the first two messages I am now certain that I find this last one even worse than the first one. While the lost of lord Vladivus is a great tragedy for Nocturnus, he is at last only one man. And this letter is about armies. The Drow have returned. In inestimable numbers. A plague upon these lands, they are spreading out of the ground from Scarborough to the Claw Breakers, And from the eastern sea to the Rakath." The two captains of Skavenport stood there with aghast faces, struggling for words. This time, Dunstan was the first ready to reply: "Is there any sign that these hordes are an ally to the Black Spire? Unlikely that so many of them would care about what is going on on the surface." "No, we have no information about their intentions yet. But there has never been something other than the lust for war. You know my position in this. There is no peace with the Drow. No coexistance. Only a decision: freedom or slavery. Survival or Extinction. Anyhow, we must..." "Mylord!". Osric was abruptly interrupted by an entering rogue and the impact of the door. For a second one could have seen the exp<b></b>ression of astonishment on Osric's face. But it changed immediately in calculated disapproval: "It seems that I missed out the council meeting that declared council meetings open for everyone to rush in and interrupt. What is this all about?" The rogue seemed embarrassed, struggling where to begin: "My lord...it is your law that every wizard, mage, sorcerer, witcher...every harnesser of magic must be recorded and reported to you." "So it is. I demand a weekly report. Weekly, soldier. So, for your own sake explain what makes this wizard such a special being that you felt the necessity to interrupt my small council? And unless it is Victor Revolword himself milking ale out of a two headed unicorn, I will be hard to convinced." Dunstan and Aethelrat had bother to hide their smirking. The poor rogue was certainly sure that he had done his duty exemplary. He responded: "I know, sire, but that wizard... when we found him, he immediately demanded being brought to you. He tells many weird things. About the Black Spire, lord Vladivus, and things about your fate." __________________________________________________________ As always, thank you very much for having a look. And of course for reading! Oh, and for those of you who did read all of it, here are overall pics!

In response to the slaughter of a Nikrit tribe about two weeks ago, Gal-Turok dispatched two couriers. The first courier was still in route to Shadowmere, using the narrow swamp streams to navigate from outpost to outpost in the back country. However the second courier, who was dispatched to Skavenport to give a formal report and extend an offer to combat the various insurgents scattered throughout the southern lands of Nocturnus, had reached his destination. Accepting the offer to march and fight together to Shadowmere, Lord Osric sent the goblin warrior back to The Reach with a light escort, a symbol of a unity between the two. However, as they were nearing the fringes of theGal-Turok's domain, a mysterious group of assassins ambushed and killed all but one young rat warrior.. The young rat warrior ran through the trees frantically. A few leagues back, he had noticed the land and trees had changed from swamp to foothills..a sign he was entering the Rakath Range, and more importantly, safety. As he ran furiously through the forest, he began to pick out the various warm colored hues of the trees, and a bit of relief set into his heart. He would soon come across The Vanishing River, the formal marker of the Goblin's domain. He would have time to rest and to contemplate what happened. From what he'd gathered in the initial ambush, they were Valyrian, they were elite, and they were very good. To outmaneuver and kill both rats and a goblin, one had to be both swift and gile, and these guys had it in droves. His mind drifted to the growing number of tribes and groups that had joined the spire...Drow, Crocodile, Wolf, Orc, and now these assa... His body stopped cold as did his mind. He had reached The Vanishing River, but instead of relief he felt an overwhelming fear. Across the bank of the shallow river, no more than 20 paces or so, stood one of them. He wore elegant green and silver armor, that slightly shimmered in the sun. His hair and facial features were kept surprisingly well, considering his line of work. His eyes were a pale brown, but they pierced the rat warriors soul. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally spoke... "You have gone far enough young one." His accent was thick, from what the rat gathered, he was of noble Valyrian stock. He continued.. "My comrades thought for sure that you had eluded us, but I knew better.I had anticipated your path some while ago, and sure enough, the powers from beyond have delivered you to me as an act of providence. Now all that is left for you to do is set your weapons down, and allow yourself to be taken. Despite my skill set, I am not a fan of such barbaric actions as killing when unnecessary. So what do you say eh...if you come quietly, I give you plenty of cheese and grain for the trip back to the tower.." A sarcastic smile broke the plane of his face. In that instant, the rat learned something new of his pursuer..he had studied him, like a game of chess. He referred to him as young one, which for a normal human would be impossible to discern. The rat warrior replied.. "You seem to have figured out parts of me, yet I know nothing of you. So who may I ask are you?" "I am Verspicci, Captain of the Romanga Fioran, The High Guardians of the Grand Island Guild of Valyrio and I am pleased to make your acquaintance." He delivered a customary bow. "You seem more of a diplomat than an assassin, and for a diplomat you are a long way from an embassy.." the rat warrior retorted. "I am many things young one, but today you only need to be concerned by what I am to you..your detainer. As to the other half of your statement, I am wherever I choose to be. And now I choose to be in front of you..blocking your path and ending this pitiful alliance before it can even be stoked in the embers." he pronounced as he drew what the rat warrior could only guess to be a sword. It was long and quite thin, with a curved blade and a cylinder hilt..it was not slashing weapon, but purely designed to thrust and stab into an opponent. Despite their small talk and formal etiquette, they both knew what was going on. They were sizing each other up first of all, each one looking and probing for any long lasting physical or mental sign of weakness. The second reason, they were both catching thier breath, letting their bodies recharge for a moment. Chasing down and out running any of Osric's people was no small feat, but to outrun and intercept a warrior rat, took something more.. After another moment of silence, in which the wind could be heard bending the trees in the clearing, the rat spoke once more.. "It was nice to have met you today, Verspicci was it?.." he said as he subtly gripped the throwing axes he hid beneath his overcloak. The Valyrian responded "Correct young one, but I did not catch your name.." The Rat replied "It's Torderic. Torderic The Swift to be exact." "Ahh Swif-" Torderic did not let him finish the sentence, as in a blink of an eye he had already covered the distance between them and brought his throwing axes to bear. But to his shock, Verspicci had lifted his blade, blocked and was halfway through his parry. Their duel on the banks of The Vanishing River had begun. Torderic swung high and low repeatedly, trying to draw his foe off balance with a furry of two handed coordinated strikes. But Verspicci countered just as precisely. Then Verspicci surged forward..his body streamlined in a perfect precision strike. Toderic parried with his left axe, but the force of the blow through him somewhat off balance. They whirled and spun around each other, each one probing for a place to do damage. Eventually Verspicci began to gain the upper hand, and pushed Toderic back toward a pine tree. Verspicci lunged again with another powerful streamlined strike, Toderic countered and saw an opening. With his right hand axe, he swung high. But Verspicci, once again anticipating the maneuver, caught the axe in mid swing. The two warriors were now eye to eye, struggling for position and balance. Verspicci pushed Toderic backwards, using only will and human strength to do so. Rats were not known for their strength, but for their speed and agility, however Verspicci was well aware of this, and was doing all that he could to keep the fight within sword point range, effectively nullifying Toderic's advantages. Not letting Toderic gain an inch, or have a moment of reprieve he forced him upon a small boulder and again forward lunged, attempting to drive his blade through the rat. Toderic parried and captured Verspicci's blade in a deadlock move that had served him well before. But Verspicci was anything but like those before. He lifted Toderic up and above his head in a spectacular overhead throw that sent the rat crashing and tumbling to the ground. The impact shook Toderic to his core. Still rattled and attempting to regain his footing, Verspicci was upon him and with what seemed like the force of the heavens coming down, smashed the butt of his blade into the back of Toderic's head, shocking him again. Toderic spat blood from the impact and it took all he had not to pass out right then and there. Toderic mustered what strength he could in an attempt to get up. He felt his left axe being kicked out from under him..then several kicks to the side..more blood from his mouth..more resolve not to pass out as he was being beat senseless. He summoned what little composure he had left in attempt to surprise his opponent with an uppercut axe swing. Again Verspicci saw it coming, intercepting the axe swing with his foot, kicking it away and stomping on Toderic's forearm in one combo like motion. His heavy steel boots dug into the skin and shattered the bone beneath. Another kick to the side and Toderic was on his back, panting, bleeding and trying to stay conscious. "It didn't have to be this way young one. You could've had cheese..." Another sarcastic remark. But given the circumstances, Toderic thought, he had every right to be sarcastic and arrogant. Even so, Toderic mustered a snark reply of his own "Maybe if you were focused less on cheese, and more on the surroundings, you would've noticed the two goblins coming up on your flank, hehe.." Verspicci spun, and sure enough, two goblin soldiers were upon him. They were slower than the rat, but still agile and fast in their own right, and much stockier. Verspicci plunged head long into battle with them both, attempting to combo kill the two of them. However as he lunged at the first, the goblin rolled out of the way and his blade was intercepted by the second. Without missing a step, Verspicci shifted his weight and fired his go to move, the forward lunge, knocking the goblin off balance, but not as much as the rat in their previous duel. Goblin swords, while much shorter than his own, were heavier and broader. They were more than capable of withstanding Verspicci's blows without giving up too much ground in the aftermath. This split second moment of delay caused Verspicci not to notice that the other goblin had positioned himself to his flank and above him on a boulder. The goblin leaped into the air, sword pointed down, with the intention of plunging it directly into Verspicci's spine. Verspicci, in a moment of sheer luck, manged to turn and lift his sword directly into the goblin's path, running him through clean while at the same time delivering a powerful kick within the spin that took the first goblin off his feet. He then threw him to the ground and turned his attention to the goblin on the ground. He had failed to see Toderic get to his feet and reach the throwing axe that landed in the river. As Verspicci raised his sword to finish off the first goblin, Toderic threw the axe directly at Verspicci's head. It made just enough noise for Verspicci to hear it coming, and then silence. Verspicci hit the ground with a dusty thud, his cape settling around him, bleeding out. The surviving goblin came to his feet and rushed over to his comrade. Toderic followed, albeit much slower. They both stood over the body of the dead one, and the goblin spoke. "You are at peace now, you have honored the ancestors, and served the living ones well. I will bring you home to your family, and we will commit you to the dust in which you came..." Toderic was in awe. From what he heard of Goblins, they were one of the less cultured tribes of the East, but yet before him stood one of their kind mourning for another. Though he never had any ill will towards goblin kind, he didn't see anything particularly special about them. Until now, in this moment. His respect for their kind, was now burned into his memory. He spoke solemnly as he introduced himself... "I am Toderic The Swift, and I come bearing a message. A few days ago, your envoy came to Skavenport seeking an alliance and hope of a combined army on the march to Shadowmere. Lord Osric, Called Isentooth, Thirteenth Of His Name, Former King And Current Lord Of All Rats' Breeding, Official Lord Protector Of The Wholeness Of Rodents In Historica, gladly accepts your offer of a unified Southern Nocturnus and Grand Army march to Shadowmere." Toderic bowed in a formal manner. The Goblin saluted with his sword and bowed. ​"I am called Mitak among my people, and in the name of the Great Goblin Uniter and Traverser Of The Great Sands, Lord Gal-Turok, I invite you to The Reach, to rest up and discuss your travels and information that you may have to share. Come quickly, we must get my comrade home for his final rest!" With that the Mitak ran off to fetch mounts that they had left behind, leaving Toderic a moment of reflection..Old enemies were going stronger, new enemies were beyond measure, countless had died in the initial campaigns, but here he stood, counted amongst the living in attempt to make a difference. Today was a small step towards that... So I hope you guys enjoyed this, my second build of the Collab. I know it was a bit long but I think I got the point across. In any case C & C welcomed and as always Hail Nocturnus!!!!

"The present state of Kaliphlin is in flux. It takes money, men, and will to wage a war; all of which have been spent over the last year." [skaForHire] Kolhamin of Petrea, as he now called himself, had lost a lot during the war. Not money. Actually, he was still rich. But power and influence. Which is what his life is about. He didn't like living in Petrea, nor did his wife or his brother, who spent most of his time on the roof terrace under the shade of the lemon tree nowadays. Pretending to be a cloth merchant was far from ideal. But Kolhamin knew that sacrifices had to be made, for the greater good of his people, and himself. Kolhamin turned on the balcony and went back inside his Petrea mansion. Maybe really not all was in vain, yet, at least. The ambassador of the Black Legion of Ulandus had just held an amazing speech. Of course, the listeners in the streets didn't even know that the man who had just talked to them was one of Ulandus most brilliant warlords. None of the listeners even realised that he talked against the Desert King and the High Councial. But he had. It would take time to prepare the people, to slowly undermine their thoughts and plant the seed of uproar against the Councilmen or the ancient King in the Desert. But it would be worth... Back inside Kolhamin waited for some minutes, until his wife in her beautiful white-and-red dress joined him. A quick smile, an elusive kiss, and they both desceded the cold staircase into their large basement. He looked around at all the slaves doing their work, as he had ordered. "Three more are ready, my lord. We are making good progress", the overseer told him. Kolhamin nodded. That was good. War needed preparation. And preparation was made. Even within the heart of Kaliphlin, where they least expected it. Petrea_House_01 by Stefan G, auf Flickr Petrea_House_02 by Stefan G, auf Flickr -------------------------------- Petrea_House_03 by Stefan G, auf Flickr Petrea_House_04 by Stefan G, auf Flickr ----------------------------------------------- Petrea_House_05 by Stefan G, auf Flickr

My Lord Simon, I write to inform you that our efforts are going smoothly! Our efforts have been met with much success, and we have managed to build dozens of fortifications throughout Avalonia. Our armies will now have many spots to fall back to if we are overwhelmed. The owners of the lands we are building on have been extremely cooperative and helpful. They are willing to give up parts of their land, glad for the protection of our troops. I am now leaving a house where we have built a palisade wall. The inhabitants of the house, a man, elf, and their son, have been very gracious to us. They provided food, help, and entertainment in the form of elvish singing to my men, and wished us the best of luck. I recommend we reward their good spirits after the drow are defeated. Regards, Sir Jamus. The peasants. Sir Jamus (in the front) and the palisade. Spears! No figs! I love the landscaping and path! No palisade! I really like the house. I built a house because I realized I haven't ever really built a proper house. So I decided to build a scene showing a fortification effort around a house. I figured small fortifications like this would be popping up all over Avalonia, so my idea would fit in. Well, that's my entry! Good luck everyone! Edit: Brickshelf gallery's public: http://upload.brickshelf.com/cgi-bin/gallery.cgi?f=543911

The main forces of the dwarf army prepare to advance into Avalonia. Meanwhile, scouting parties range through the borderlands in search of drow. Occasionally, they encounter remnants of the ancient dwarven civilization that once stretched across all the North and West of Historica. They pause to pay their respects to the dwarven kings of old, buried as they are beneath centuries worth of earth, stone, and memory. Figless:

Week 2 Guerrilla Challenges The following challenges have been made. Anyone may counter these Guerrilla Attacks, but remember each builder can only build one counter build each week, so pick wisely. If the challenger wins, they will earn 4 additional points. Each counter is worth 4 points. Voting will happen after the deadline. The winning side either retains the zone or captures the zone. NEW: If no one counters the challenger’s MOC, then the zone turns over to the challenger’s side, and they only earn 2 points. Counter builds should have a title with this tag in it: [CG: location, your faction vs the guerrilla's faction] IE: [CG:J13, U vs DK], Due Date: Mar 15th, anywhere in the world. Zone: J13 Challenger: LordDan What Faction can counter: Ulandus Zone: F13 Challenger: Kai NRG What Faction can counter: Desert King Zone: H6 Challenger: Garmadon What Faction can counter: High Council

Vengeance at Knightsbridge (Challenge IV Prelude, Chapter 19) Chapters so far: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 (ALSO: War of the Brothers Part II Chapter 1a HERE for more on that) Siegeofknightsbridge by skaforhire, on Flickr Vengeance at Knightsbridge Kaliphlin-north-east-0 by skaforhire, on Flickr Ulik’Boar, a Desert King scout, walked through the carnage at Knightsbridge. Severed heads, cauterized body parts, blood (but this build is PG because I am taking it to a show for kids this weekend. ), men with terror still frozen on their face. His fellow Kaliphlinites all of them, but many on this side of the bridge belonged to his side of the civil war. They had tried to take the town early in the morning, but their men had been repelled before even getting across the bridge into the heavier fortifications of Knightsbridge. aDSC_1943 by skaforhire, on Flickr The Desert King’s Mountain Eagle Division had a firm grip on another strategic town to the North, Needletop, this position was where the Peak Road broke off back towards Sultan’s Gate and also in the direction of the Sea. Knightsbridge was an important position because it controlled any movement to the south through the Rakath Mountain. It was for this reason that their commander, Ellan Boen, had decided to take the fortified mountain town. Knightbridge was mostly underground, it was an old dwarf stronghold, most people said. Upon realizing that the town and the fortifications were one in the same, Boen had made sure that the holdout High Councilor Lord Folston knew that they were coming. Ulik’Boar had personally counted the numbers of women and children that were sent down the mountain into Needletop for protection. The Desert King promised their safety, even if the men of the town chose to continue fighting. This would be the first full attack on the High Council, but the king did not want any negotiations hampered by an unnecessary slaughter of innocents. It was a hard fought battle from what the few Desert King survivors of the attack said, however, they were unsuccessful in dislodging Lord Folston. Two of the Desert King’s high guard had perished on the mountain, nad now Ulik’Boar could see one of their bodies. His hair on the back of his neck was still standing straight up. He couldn’t believe that he snuck into the town so easily, until he got to the first crest. All he heard was the rushing water of the river beneath the bridge, and all he could see were bodies. Desert King pledges, High Council troops, and Ulandians… He tried to piece together what had happened here. He covered Lord Folston’s body, after the high guard of course. aDSC_1944 by skaforhire, on Flickr As he moved across the bridge now, he was careful, just in case there were any survivors. aDSC_1947 by skaforhire, on Flickr The other side of the town was just as terrible. There was a siege ladder, up, but not one survivor. He made his way down the other side of the Peak Road now, about a mile, and found no signs of any living soul. He smiled for the first time that day. Looks like the Mountain Eagle Division had won Knightsbridge by default. +-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-++-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-++-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-++-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-++-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+- A few hours earlier. Lord Folston had dreaded Lord Petera’s letter. He touched the amulet that came with it – the amulet was supposed to give Folston renewed vigor during a fight, but right now, the icy cold pendent just made him more nervous. A Desert King Army had taken Needlepoint, and the Ulandians were spotted only a few miles down the other direction on the Peak Rode. Things could not be worse. There was no place to even go if they wanted to retreat. He could not surrender, as both the High Council and Petera had given him direct orders to hold the ground at all cost – hold the ground so the Desert King and the Ulandians could not fight one another! Rumors had already made it to him that they were fighting elsewhere! He wanted to just camp high in his four towers and let both sides use the bridge. Let them fight it out right on the blasted thing. He would do his duty though. aDSC_1850 by skaforhire, on Flickr He didn’t have much time to fret. As the early morning mountain air just started to warm up, a century saw the Desert King’s men making it up the West face of the mountain. He was shorthanded… very shorthanded. He had less than 25 men left, a squad of archers and crossbowmen, and a squad of swordsmen. Even his personal fool was given a weapon. Knightsbridge was a chokepoint; this gave them a slight advantage, forcing the enemy to come nearly single file up the long windy Peak Road, that at points was no wider than a horse. The only problem was, if the Ulandians arrived at the same time, no one would be able to be on the East side of the river to defend the town. aDSC_1862 by skaforhire, on Flickr The Desert King’s Mountain Eagle division charged up the road, past the unmanned murder holes within the underground and up to the first switchback at the top of the mountain. Folston commanded his men personally, lending his own sword. His sergeant of Arms Macbarker Swane, his loyal companion for many years, took the vanguard position. The fight was on. aDSC_1855 by skaforhire, on Flickr aDSC_1848 by skaforhire, on Flickr The Mountain Mummies pushed hard, but by the time they made it to the final switchback, the plateau as it was called, the forces of the Desert King were exhausted and surrounded. aDSC_1863 by skaforhire, on Flickr Folston’s men forced the remaining enemy back down the mountain. And Victory was theirs. aDSC_1871 by skaforhire, on Flickr aDSC_1868 by skaforhire, on Flickr Until a shout came from the east side of the river. “The Ulandians are here!” Folston shouted to his men, the ones who had survived. “Quick, we must cross and hold the Calling Grounds!” His men, led again by Macbarker, ran across the bridge and down into the Calling Grounds, the open space between the road and the fortifications on the east side of town. aDSC_1876 by skaforhire, on Flickr To their dismay, the Ulandians had brought siege ladders up the mountain side. He could see the first few blue-clad Sand Wolves (the 3rd Legion he had learned) climbing the first ladder. “Knock’em down boys!” Growled Macbarker. SandWolves by skaforhire, on Flickr Folston had actually met with this company’s one armed leader, a grizzly old veteran named Shan’Feng. He had offered terms of surrender last week, but said that they would not offer again. Folston didn’t like the terms, which included a trip for his men to an Ulandus prisoner camp. Folston thought it odd that this was the company sent against his town. From what he had learned, the 3rd legion was mostly a reconnaissance organization. He had asked Shan’Feng about this, and the one-armed man laughed. He replied “Even the Third Legion has teeth, we are part wolf after all.” aDSC_1890 by skaforhire, on Flickr As this point, more and more Ulandians were pouring into the Calling Grounds. The Sand Wolves pushed Folston’s Men back, while getting into the small tower. Folston knew that if just one tower fell, they would use the secret passages between all of the towers to quickly kill his archers. Things were not looking good, and he fell back across the bridge. aDSC_1893 by skaforhire, on Flickr The bridge was wooden for this very reason. As he crossed he looked for a torch to light the bridge. It was a last ditch effort, but it should preserve half of his city. He turned to find his last guard fell by a Ulandian Drow warrior. Folston had always found it odd that the Ulandians had somehow broken their drow and made them normal citizens… His mind came back to the problem at hand. He looked up at his towers. aDSC_1899 by skaforhire, on Flickr aDSC_1911 by skaforhire, on Flickr It was only a matter of minutes before they would all fall. Folston made the decision to take out as many of these Ulandian scum as possible. “FOR EASTGATE, AND A WHOLE KALIPHLIN FOREVER!” He cried as he stepped into a pile of pursuers. aDSC_1906 by skaforhire, on Flickr As he fought, he felt the renewed energy… and the only other thought he had besides stab, parry, thrust, was that of his dear old friend. He hoped Macbarker found as honorable a death as he was about to have. aDSC_1908 by skaforhire, on Flickr +-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-++-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-++-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-++-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-++-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+- Petera’s body went cold. He turned to Avona, his fiancé, and Wind-mistress of Historica, “Hold the Protective Shield. Keep Eastgate Safe. My good friend Folston is dead.” Before she could reply, he had teleported away. The necklace he had sent Folston was enchanted to give the wearer strength, but it was also attuned to Petera so that he could track the wearer. If a wearer was injured it would send a signal to Petera, but if the wearer was killed, Petera would feel it in the core of his being. Folston had been a good friend, a true friend. And when Petera blinked into existence at Knightsbridge, the carnage he saw near Folston’s body confirmed that the man was loyal and courageous to the end. Petera’s emotion raged, but he turned his anger into a hand in his mind, and the hand swept away his emotion and reached into to the magical void where all his energy came from. In a instant, he let the raw power take him into the depths of destruction and he was leviathan. aDSC_1916 by skaforhire, on Flickr He had ported onto the bridge, and immediately opened up fire on a Drow Ulandian. Executing him with a firebeam. Simultaneously he constructed a wall of power behind him to cut off the east side of the river, and a lightening shield crackled into existence on his left arm. aDSC_1917 by skaforhire, on Flickr He saw a rush of Ulandians coming from the West, and blinked into the middle of them. They raised their weapons to attack, but he was already dealing killing blows all around him. peterasveng by skaforhire, on Flickr They fell and he teleported to the top of the tallest tower, and executed three more. aDSC_1923 by skaforhire, on Flickr He could see their commander, and that would have been his next stop, but the commander’s mage teleported the two of them far away when they saw who exactly had shown up to finish this battle. Instead he teleported down to the Calling Grounds. This time using his wall of power to keep Ulandians from running away from him. aDSC_1931 by skaforhire, on Flickr Archers attacked him from the rear, and he could hear more soldiers running at him. He leapt up a wall and incinerated the closet Ulandian in midair. aDSC_1927 by skaforhire, on Flickr aDSC_1934 by skaforhire, on Flickr He threw his lightening shield and took out an archer. ADSC_1935 by skaforhire, on Flickr He landed and finished off another guard above him with a fireblast. takingcare by skaforhire, on Flickr Minutes went by… there were no more left. No more. For a moment he thought about going to Needletop and destroy the other enemy army, but as his rage began to subside, grief began to wash over him. He was tired. He had used too much of his power too quickly. He was vulnerable. He had just enough to get back home to Avona, where he spent the night in her arms, aching for lost friends

The Golden Partisans - The new 13th Legion of Ulandus? Somewhere in the deserts of Kaliphin, a small group of soldiers has setup their camp. Hidden from the eyes of their foes these warriors are taking a quick rest from the past struggles, looking forward to heroic deeds in the future. Will first Centurio hear about their doings for Ulandus? Colours: Gold (secondary: "sand" / light yellow) Mission: Guerilla Missions, particulary in the desert Name: Golden Partisans Overview of the small camp. Backside of the camp. The group's elven leader is drinking some refreshment, while her guard is trying to take a nap. "The boy" is filling a bucket at the small hidden well they found in the desert. Well, actually it's hardly more than a hole in the ground, but water is what you need to survive under the sun! Some supplies of the warriors. The whole squad of the "Golden Partisans" as CMFs. Full Album with three more photos can be found here. I plan on adding the following over the next couple of days: * the camp at night * some facts about the squad (colour, history, races, mission, equipment) * single characters with some proper background stories * two more scenes about their heroic deeds after leaving the camp

Amir Navabi was at war. The estranged son of one of the powerhouse families of Kaliphlin was angry, and he was showing it. His parents, for whom he had precious little respect, had sided with the High Council. Determined to defy the people he felt betrayed by, Amir had sided with Ulandus. And he was a more than capable fighter. He, along with some other Ulandian soldiers, had decided to take the aqueducts, as many as possible. Using his superior ability, Amir forced the swordsman to jump into the river. The battle had been won, at least at this aqueduct. Now is where I come in. "Good Pastnoon," I called. "What are Vikings doing so far inland?" Amir questioned, looking curiously at the three of us. "We were shipwrecked. We need a guide to take us north," I replied, curtly. The ship had encountered one of the worst storms I had ever known. We were lucky to be alive. "Very well," Amir replied. "But it might be dangerous." "Why," Rollo asked. "No one has informed you. Kaliphlin is in Civil War," He told us. "Gorlog's breath," I murmured. "Of all the times to be in Kaliphlin Builder's notes: This build was a throw together, but I wanted to contribute SOMETHING to my side in the civil war. I would build more, but some unforeseen circumstances have stopped me. Sorry. Author's notes: Same. The story was rushed, really just an excuse to explain why my Vikings are stuck in Kaliphlin. For the Praise of His Glory! ~Andrew

My entry to WarZone 13. If I should win, I pick D3 as the next warzone. This was a fun little build, the mobile fort was a little challenging to make but I think it turned out pretty well. Aymeri and his men send some desert king soldiers packing: More pictures can be seen here: Link C&C much appreciated

In a mansion in the north western parts of Kaliphlin, a group of councilors from the High Council have barricaded themselves, fearing for their lives. Outside, a band of brigands are preparing an assault on the mansion, and a retinue of soldiers have vowed to protect the councilors. The Prey by Beorthan, on Flickr Outside, the attack has started and Beorthan, our knight in shining armour, is leading the defense of the mansion. The attacking force carries no distinguishing marks, giving no clues as to who may be behind the attack, be it Ulandus, the Desert King, or simple brigands. The Battle by Beorthan, on Flickr Left to right, the warriors are: Beorthan, Lord of the Trifork; his bodyguards, Cassius and Marcus; his friend Lord William Drake; and Tauro, his tracker and scout. In the back, the marksman Brogar is taking shots at the enemies. These seasoned warriors are holding out against the superior numbers of the attackers, and everything points towards a victory for our heroes. The Warriors by Beorthan, on Flickr An overview of the build: Overview by Beorthan, on Flickr

Bombastia was probably the best bargain Osric Isentooth had made during his recruitment of mercenaries. For she was a woman, she could not demand the same payment as men. War business was still a male domain. But the tremendous warrioress was in no way less deadlier than any other mercenary. In fact she was even scarier and stronger than anyone in Isentooth's entourage.

If winning, I pick E2 as new warzone. The boy's arm was already broken. Osric's men did not care if a prisoner got hurt as long as he was still able to speak. "Listen boy. I do not care about your politics down here. All I'm interested in is the loot." He looked at the rat holding the shaduf, an ancient and primitive well sweep that was used in the southern lands since time immemorial. The exiled rat king could se the desire in his soldier's eyes to just drown this foolish spy they had catched early in the morning. "I'm tired of asking. Now simply tell me all about strength and position of your battaillon and all of this will quick be over." The young soldier's voices was bruised from the blood pressing on his head:"You're going to kill me either way. I don't talk to vermin like you." Osric made a last desultory attempt to convince him:"Oh boy. There are so many ways to die. And some are not very pleasant. I could simply let my men gnaw off your fett and throw the pitiful rest of you into the river." "Nocturnian scum! Your mummy king will soon return to hell. Now end this, I am ready for it." Osric had lost interest in his prisoner. There were sure still other spies around to catch. Perhaps some who were easier to intimidate. He looked to the rat holding the sweep:"He seems thirsty. It was an uncomfortable morning for him. Give him water."

Khalesh and Atem, two loyal militiamen of the Desert King, prepare to get the drop on yet another unsuspecting Ulandian. So, my entry to warzone 4, C+C welcome!

Warzone 3: The Nestlands Insurgency. Location: G15 Who Can Participate: All Factions Terrain: This battle happens in the Northern Nestlands region. (The following is Gedren_y’s description of his home territory) “The mountain in the center of the grid is known as Ghuin Nol, and is described as predominantly light colored stone. The terrain is somewhat like Asian equatorial rainforest. The Nestlands settlements are mostly on the south and east faces, but Skywatch Perch is at the peak, and is manned by the High Guard. The mountain is honeycombed with natural caves, and would be a good strategic position if someone wants to overrun the commercial and production centers of the Nestlands. There is very little drinkable ground water, as it is too mineral rich.” History: It is said that the Kaliphlin Civil War started in the Nestlands. Even before the council was willing to recognize they were at war, the Nestlands were busy fighting for their right to live as they desired, under their own rulers and religion. As the Ulandian Forces surrounded the High Council Enclaves of Mypa Stedor and Berigora, the Nestlands held out valiantly. However, overwhelming attacks by the 5th Legion subdued the Northern Nestlands region, and put a green blip on the campaign map. Some said that the Nestlands clans were fighting an unfair battle, as they pledged neutrality, and when they refused to swear allegiance to the “New Council” as Ulandus has styled the government that they are trying to install, the Blazing Swords (5th Legion) forced compliance. Mini-challenge: Now that the war is in its first month, and most of the 5th Legion has moved on to secure more territory, the Nestlands Clans have taken the fight back against the Ulandians. Small pockets of resistance, armed with Mpya Stedor weapons, have begun to overthrow the officials Ulandus had left behind. The challenge here for High Council builders is to depict one of these insurgency operations succeeding against Ulandus. Ulandian builders should depict on of the insurgency attacks failing, and Ulandus forces prevailing. Desert King builders should depict their forces taking opportune attacks against both sides. *this doesn’t mean you have to depict DK supporters attacking both sides at once, just attacking one or the other. Restrictions: 32x32 with limited overhang, SPECIAL: Must have an irregular base. (hey, we are about improving our skills here, aren’t we?) Due Date: March 29th Title Tag for MOC's thread: Title of Moc [WZ2:G15, Faction Name] When posting a link to your entry to each battle thread, make sure you note which zone you are picking as the next warzone if you win. You may want to coordinate with others from your faction. WARMAPSTARTNOWnonum by skaforhire, on Flickr

A NOTE to all those who have not signed up yet: Please still do so!!! Even if you feel as if the challenge has already started, there is plenty of time to build for all three categories! Ulandus needs members the most, followed by High Council, then the Desert King. choose by skaforhire, on Flickr Kaliphlin Civil War Book 2, Challenge IV Starts March 1st, Deadline for Category A &B: July 1st Aftermarket products that cannot be replicated in LEGO are accepted, but should not be the defining element of a MOC. Weapons / armor from aftermarket sources is always fine. (Final Preludes will be up soon (ish), but I thought we could get rolling on general signups.) Chapters so far: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 The Civil War is a three way battle between the Ulandians, the Desert King, and the High Council of Kaliphlin. You may sign up for the civil war on this page. The roster is at the bottom of the post. When signing up, please note your first and second choice. We will attempt to put everyone on their first choice team, but if the teams get too uneven, some people may get their second choice. choosingsides by skaforhire, on Flickr There will be three categories to this challenge. The winning and runner-up side of each category will earn points towards determining which faction won the civil war. Category A: Consequences In this category you will show something that has changed since the war started. For example, It could be a MOC about a boy becoming a man because he has to work his dad’s farm, a MOC of a person turning to a life of crime after their livelihood has been destroyed, refugees, the aftermath of a battle, etc… Anything that shows how a individual(s) life has changed because of the war. The build should clearly represent a defining moment in a person or person(s) life. Story is not a major factor here, but it may help you clarify for the readers. Restriction: 32x32 studs with reasonable overhang. Challenge B Unlimited Build / Story Challenge The story of sir Brick-a-lot. It is your job to chronicle Sir Brick-a-lot’s journey in the Kaliphlin Civil War. Sir Brick-a-lot can be your sig fig, or another fig you used for the war (no, don’t actually name him Sir Brick-a-lot). The fig does not have to be a soldier, but you should have at least a couple builds to tell their story during the Kaliphlin Civil War. Each side will be judged on the quality of the builds presented and the quality of their Heroes’ tales. If you use your Category C builds in your storyline, there is a limit of ½ of your builds may be from Category C builds. IE: If you want to use 3 of your category C builds, you must have three additional MOCs to add to your story. Category C – Dynamic War and Map Challenge Please see this thread for now on the rules. This is the actual "game" thread. It has links to the mini-challenges for each week. Please do not sign up on the preliminary rules thread, please sign up here. Also, all discussion for Category C should happen in the category C threads, that is where you will report MOCs for that category also. Category D - Victory Parade Although it may be premature, each side is throwing a victory parade in their regional capital. Builders should put together a parade in no more than six pictures. There should not be more than six parade groups (bands, floats, military units, Zem Zem go-cart formations, etc...) in your parade. Although this category will impact the outcome of the war the least, it does show to some extent the pride your side has. There is no limitation in sizes, but remember to photograph carefully for detail so that all of your parade is covered well. Finally, there should be a final picture that shows the Grand Marshall of the Parade's stand with all the dignitaries inspecting the parade. The winner of this category will be known as the Grand Master of Ceremonies of Kaliphlin. LDD - LDD will be allowed in Category C and D, but not in Category A or B (as it has always been with official challenges). Since Category C is voted on by the public, there may be people that have some bias towards digital bricks, but we will let that play out. =+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+ Supporters declared: Ulandus Goliath Gunman Infernum Kai NRG Garmadon Narbilu Andrew Spader Lord Robin Alfadas Elostirion Gabe Bacon Potatoes Kayne Rconn0 Marcu22 Rogue Angel Dragonfire Igunnuk Eelu Desert King Hammerhand MKJoshA Tomsche Lord Vladivus MassEditor Emma Sir Gareth Blufiji Disco86 LordDan Jacob Nion Robuko The Lego Dwarf DrCogg Umbra-Manis Brick Man Studios Captain Braunsfeld High Council Carson Haupt De Gothia Gedren_y Soccerkid6 LittleJohn Mike S TheUtilityBelt Gideon Maxim I mrcp6d SarahJoy Mccoyed Bregir Adair Jakorin Scarst BrickCurve Graham Gidman MiloNelsiano J031 Ty3r IF I missed someone from the other thread, please let me know.

Challenge IV FACTION MINI CHALLENGE To kick off Challenge 4, we will have a quick mini-challenge for each of the factions. The winner of the faction will have the right to call themselves a certain title (depending on faction). They also get to pick the location of a battle in Category C. Deadline: before the end of Sunday March 22nd, anywhere in the world. FACTION: Ulandus CHALLENGE: The 13th Legion. If you read Bannihal’s Report, you may have noticed that there is a 13th legion of Ulandus, but it is brand new. Because of this, it has not earned its name or its colors yet. Your challenge is to create this 13th legion, design a few of their uniforms, give it a backstory and show members of this legion performing a heroic feat that would gain them the attention of First Centurion. You also should pick the nickname the legion will be granted. (IE: The First legion wears red and its nickname is The Thousand Suns.). The only restriction is that you must use a color that is not currently used by one of the legions. The largest MOC for this quick challenge is 32x32 studs. But, besides minifigure only pictures / builds, you may have up to two MOCs to show the feat. TITLE YOU CAN WIN: Exalted Centurion of Ulandus FACTION: Desert King CHALLENGE: Making War. The Desert King is in need of good lieutenants to run his war effort. Show your character (or the character you are using in this challenge) commanding a military action that would get the notice of your faction’s leader. You will probably need a unit under your command, so make sure that they look sharp! The largest MOC for this quick challenge is 32x32 studs. But, besides minifigure only pictures / builds, you may have up to two MOCs to show the feat. TITLE YOU CAN WIN: Warlord of the North (or Northern Kaliphlin if you are not Kaliphlinite already) FACTION: High Council CHALLENGE: Protecting the Councilors. The High Council is busy in this time of war, and need help guarding their person at important meetings. One member is often designated the Lord Protector of the Council when the council is in session, but since Kyban Wh'Ali of Khar'dek, current Lord Protector, was injured, a new Lord Protector must be found. Task: Depict a scene where your character (or the character you are using in the challenge) and his/her men prevent an attack on the council in a random location (Must not be Petraea). It should be clear that they have either saved the lives of the councilors, or prevented a plot altogether. The largest MOC for this quick challenge is 32x32 studs. But, besides minifigure only pictures / builds, you may have up to two MOCs to show the feat. TITLE YOU CAN WIN: High Lord of Kaliphlin (if you are not already one), Lord Protector of the Council if you are already part of Kaliphlin. JUDGING: After the deadline I will compile the entries into a voting thread, and each faction will vote for their favorite entry. That winner will earn the title.

Disco's Guerilla's Build: Here starts the counter Guerilla: Once passed under the Great Arch, the people started feeling save as they know it took Sultan Santani b'Rack Ji'Fall 5 years to conquer Everlast 1300 years ago, even with an army of 20.000 soldiers!!!! Just like any other day, daily life was going on in Everlast, with some heavy equipped guards patrolling in the streets. While suddenly, the assassin jumped out of a building!! With a quick and precious hit, he stabbed one of the guards... He was already calculating how to kill the other guard when suddenly he felt a sword piercing through his body... "Bloody idiot, before entering, you should know Everlast has Undead Riders... And what is dead, can't die anymore..." --------------------------- Figless: --------------------------- Congratz Disco for making such a nice guerilla attack!!! But I hope this one blows your stunning entry! C&C welcome ofcourse!! I would like to claim UOP-credit for Forced Perspective!

At the edge of the Reservoir, a contingent of Yukar clean up after a brief battle with Ulandian soldiers. It's been a long time since the Yukar clansmen have been in a battle, but now Petera MacLean calls them to serve the High Council and serve they shall. The Yukar leader makes ready to plant a banner. Soon, other High Council troops will appear to take full possession of the waterwheel at this location. The waterwheel is considered a vital fixture on the aqueduct, one of a handful that other Yukar are currently capturing. The wheel pulls water up out of the reservoir and send it down the ducts to the rich farmlands nearby. Yukar are notorious for taking the heads of defeated enemies. Some might not appreciate the pollution of the reservoirs potable water, but it's the last thing on the mind of Tantam, First Executioner for Hataman.

Well this one is the longest... A King Reborn (Challenge IV Prelude, Chapter 18) Chapters so far: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 A King Reborn (Sorry, I had some really bad lighting issues with most of the rest of the builds.) throneroom by skaforhire, on Flickr The Desert King Ark'Mora Raa looked down on the Nile Croc emissary lying prostrate before him. He was in his secret throne room in Kaligem – the lost city was being repaired quite rapidly, and he thought that he may be able to move the capital from Sultan’s Gate back to his home in a matter of months. But today, he was here receiving pledges. The Nile Crocs were an interesting lot, he could remember freeing their ancestors from the clutches of the Goblin King, 2000 years ago. Of course then they were mostly denizens of the Enchanted Forest and not the Mainlands. He was pleased with the emissary’s people. Apparently they had already begun to fight near Queenscross in his name. It did seem as many of Kaliphlin’s peoples were pledging to their true leader once again. For the first time in a long time, he began to think about his first life, how he came to be, and Ner’I’ti. Oh Ner’I’ti… +-+-+-+-+-++-+-+-+-+-++-+-+-+-+-++-+-+-+-+-++-+-+-+-+-++-+-+-+-+-++-+-+-+-+-+ The very chamber that they sat in presently was not always a throne room. In fact, it had been the burial chamber the entire Raa Dynasty. His Greatest Grand Father still sat behind him, however the rest of his relatives were no longer occupying the chamber. tomb8 by skaforhire, on Flickr He remembered coming to the Tomb of Kings as a boy with his father Ahmendi Raa, his older brother Kalin’ti Raa, and his father’s closest advisor, Horros. This was the first time he had been allowed into the sacred crypt, and he had many questions. “quit your prattling,” his brother complained. “Father has brought you here to witness my ascension to the line of kings.” Ark’Mora was wise enough not to incur the wrath of his brother, and he knew that his brother was about to become a god, and his training told him one does not upset a god. Even if that god is his spiteful brother. The other gods had chosen Kalin’ti, and it was now time to begin his ascension. His brother was lucky, his father was still alive to start the process. His father began the sacred ritual, which lasted all of two minutes. “Fathers, gods, rulers to come, we call to you to begin Kalin’ti Raa’s ascension to Pharaoh.” Ark’Mora zoned out thinking about what this all meant. He was there because he would be first minister to his brother, although not a god like Kalin, he still would be essential in running the three kingdoms of Kaliphlin. His father had not been lucky enough to have an advisor of the same bloodline; he was forced to kill his two brothers to take the throne. His first minister, Horros, was a much different man, and Ark’Mora had realized early on in his tutelage that Horros likely kept the kingdom together, as his father distanced himself from the mortals. His father cared more for preparing himself for his second life that managing the kingdoms. This was evident in the current war against the Snow and Dark Elves of the northlands. There were rumors of the Western Marches preparing to rebel, also. His grandfather had destroyed most of the great Drow cities that were North of the three Kingdoms and had forced their people to begin to build settlements underground instead of above it, but his father’s turning away from military matters had allowed the Snow Elves and their darker kin to resurface. As first minister, he knew he would have to prosecute the war. DSC_1732 by skaforhire, on Flickr Twelve was a young age to be tutored in the way of statecraft, but Horros was sure that Ark’Mora was a promising student, so much that he had convinced his father to decree that Kalin’ti could not kill Ark’Mora. Kalin had already killed one of their brothers, as he saw him as a rival. Ark’Mora was considered too weak, and would soon become unable to bear and heir, thus taking away any sort of divinity. Ark’Mora snapped back to attention when he saw Horros’ bad eye staring at him. He knew the boy was daydreaming. His father was finishing the last part. “And May the line of Raa continue in eternity.” He had given Kalin’ti the blood amulet already, and Ark’Mora had been a little sad that he had not paid attention to the ascension. He wanted to see if Kalin’ti would change before his eyes or not. With the ceremony over, Ark’Mora began more questions. “Why is this space vacant he said, pointing to a position closest to the father of the Dynasty, Kaliph Raa. DSC_1730 by skaforhire, on Flickr “The closer to Kaliph Raa, the more important the Pharaoh. As you can see, the baby king is all the way at the end of this row, and right here, in the most important spot is your grandfather, conqueror of Nocturnus and Great Uniter of the Three Kingdoms.” Horros said. At this moment in time, Ark’Mora was uneasy thinking about the darkness of the third kingdom, Nocturnus. In time that would change greatly. Ner’I’ti… His father followed this up with his own boast: “That is my spot, I am worthy of my father’s spot. And for that reason, when Kalin’ti ascends to the throne in many lifetimes from now, I will begin my voyage to the second life here in this spot.” Ark’Mora was almost positive that his father would not be considered high enough by the priesthood for this spot, but there was a more suitable spot two sarcophagi down from his grandfather. He doubted that any of the living Raas could live up to his grandfather. His mind shifted to another time. He was walking through the streets of Kaligem with his brother and Horros. Horros was teaching the boys about responsibility. “You must be humble to people, they are your life blood” Because Kalin’ti was a god, Horros could no longer give him lessons, but he could give Ark’Mora lessons, which were meant for Kalin’ti to listen to and benefit from the same advice. Ark’Mora doubted that Kalin’ti listen to half of the speeches. Neither his father nor brother were very good with the people, and took the god aspect to a new level, his father would not let mortals touch him, while his brother believed that all mortal possessions, including their own lives, belonged to him. This was one of those times. “The hand that helps a lost soul, will have another soul to serve him in the afterlife…” Horros trailed off as Kalin’ti walked up to a sleeping man on the street. DSC_1803 by skaforhire, on Flickr “You!” Kalin’ti said, “Why do you pollute my streets with your filth?” The man jumped up immediately realizing who was standing before him. He immediately bowed. DSC_1804 by skaforhire, on Flickr “I am sorry my lord, I am a veteran of the West Marches Campaign. I came home and my house is gone, the new temple is being built there. I have no money, no more clothes, and my wife died of pox. I laid my head down here as the streets are the only home I know now. Please forgive me, I will move on.” The man graveled. DSC_1806 by skaforhire, on Flickr Kalin’ti threw the man up against the wall, and the frightened veteran cowered back to the ground. The prince lifted his foot up and began stomping on the man’s face. “You will not dirty my city. You are nothing. You are sand between my toes. You are fleas on a camel. You must know your worth – nothing. You could not have the courage to die fighting the Faeries of the Enchanted Forest, you can die here beneath my boot!” DSC_1809 by skaforhire, on Flickr Horros gasped, he knew he could not stop the prince, now that he had ascended. This was the first time the Desert King had seen someone die in front of him. +_+_ Ark’Mora’s mind flashed forward to his father’s death. He had died in sleep, and from the rumors the boy had heard, most likely from too much drink. He was now in the Tomb of Kings, where Kalin’ti was directing men to begin crafting the sarcophagus at the foot of Kaliph Raa. It was at this point that Ark’Mora had had enough. His father could not have been a god, let alone be buried next to the greatest god kings of all time. “The priests have not approved this yet.” Ark’mora said. DSC_1749 by skaforhire, on Flickr “You belittle our father after his death?” his brother said. “You think yourself on the same level to decide where a GOD is buried?” “I think Horros would agree with me, we must wait for the priests.” Ark’Mora said, knowing that he was standing on quicksand in this situation. “Horros has gone to the great hall to serve our father.” What? The Great Hall? This meant that Horros had been prepared for the afterlife – killed, mummified, and packed into the Great Hall. This was a common ritual for wives, petty servants, and cats, but not for a first minister. Horros was supposed to oversee the transition between Pharaohs. “That is not the way it is done!” Ark’Mora protests. “You will join him in the hall. Father demanded it.” His brother snickered. “Tomb Guard, take my brother to the Great Hall!” The tomb guard came forward to apprehend the boy. Without thinking, Ark’Mora ran to the tomb of the Greatest Raa, and took his staff. A gold Serpent that was said to hold immense power, that only a god could wield. Ark’Mora should not have been able to remove the staff, but he needed something to defend himself. DSC_1750 by skaforhire, on Flickr It slid out with ease, and he turned on his brother. The guard hit the ground prostrate and mumbled “oh great one.” His brother kept coming though. DSC_1754 by skaforhire, on Flickr Ark’Mora declared in a booming voice “You are not worthy, Kalin’ti. You and our father are not worthy of the power of these thrones.” And as he forced his brother back, he fell into the shallow water that surrounded the sarcophagi. But… DSC_1758 by skaforhire, on Flickr It wasn’t shallow for some reason. As he pointed the staff at his brother, his brother kept sinking… the water should not even come up to his knees, but still, his brother sank. DSC_1760 by skaforhire, on Flickr Until finally, his brother disappeared without a trace. Unlike the ascension of his brother, where Ark’Mora witnessed nothing unusual, he knew that in that moment he has ascended, and he knew he was a different person. +-+-+-+ The Desert King let his mind wonder. The War against the Shadows, The reconquering of the Drow. The decimation of the Snow Elves… his three greatest military achievements. The great Arch, the Triumphal Dome of Merriph, The great Golden Road, the third wall of Kaligem, his greatest architectural achievements. His land to soldiers initiative, his adoption of citizenship for all three kingdom’s residents, even the non-human ones, his greatest political achievements. He had accomplished this all before 35 years of age. None of it compared to the love he found in Nocturnus though. The staff had led him to a cave in the Dark Kingdom where he met her. She helped him tap his powers, before he fell in love with her, he never knew that he could be so powerful… powerful enough to destroy a whole subcontinent – twice. His mind immediately went to their last moments together. It was one year after he had sunk Ulandus, and they were back in this same chamber. DSC_1764 by skaforhire, on Flickr Things had taken a turn for the worst. He had used the same mass ritual to try and destroy most of the Western Marches. western march by skaforhire, on Flickr But something had gone wrong. It had not succeeded as planned. Another great force had played against his ritual, many of his priests had died in some sort of backlash, and his reports told him that a new ruler led in the West. One who over the next six months would unite the Western Marches, tap the power of the Faeries of the Enchanted Forest, enlist the Goblin King of the same realm, ally the remaining Drow, and find a way to maneuver and army hundreds of miles to Kaligem, while dealing devastating blows to the Pharaoh’s forces. His name was Agalmar, Lord of Pender, the largest city in the Western Marches, and we was now in the Tomb of Kings. DSC_1765 by skaforhire, on Flickr “False king, Kaliphlin scum, I come here to destroy you once and for all! The people of Historica are free from your bloodline’s tyranny.” The intruder announced himself. “I Agalmar of Pender will vanquish you.” Ark’Mora called back. “Your people brought this war upon them. Three decades of peace shattered by the killing of a baby! The nation of Kaliphlin will be restored.” He readied for a fight. He was exhausted, his magic was still recharging. Much of it had been drained in the long war with South Kaliphlin and Ulandus – They had risen up in protest over his connections to Nocturnus. A trait the Ulandians would hold even to the present day, a distinct hate for the immortal, the undead, the ever living. They still cursed the name Nocturnus to this day, and most during his first life knew that the region was the source of his great magic and immortality. “You attempted to destroy the West as you did Ulandus. Well, we were not so equally terminated. Maelord, our great Fae Wizard saw your spell in progress, and the Faery forces countered your blow before it was too late.” Agalmar said. Ark’Mora would learn after he began his second life that his spell had worked partially, destroying much of the landmass of the Western Marches, and creating the Mystic Isles. Avtoday by skaforhire, on Flickr Ark’Mora stepped forward to fight the man, only one guard stood in between the two rulers. But then, out of the shadows the Goblin King appeared behind the Kaliphlinites. DSC_1767 by skaforhire, on Flickr Ner’I’ti, always by his side since his pilgrimage to Nocturnus, had no chance. The Goblin King sliced her belly, and at the same time, their unborn heir, in one fluid motion. Ark’Mora raged. He turned on the surprised Goblin King and took his head in one motion. DSC_1769 by skaforhire, on Flickr He turned around to see Agalmar dispatch his last bodyguard. But before he could make it to the Western King, he felt cold… so cold. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the Faery Magelord, Maelord. His body weakened, but he still had to fight the upstart King. For her. DSC_1771 by skaforhire, on Flickr They spun, and thrashed at each other, block after block after block, and Ark’Mora could feel all his being draining from his body. Maelord was chanting. DSC_1773 by skaforhire, on Flickr Then he felt a blade enter his back. As he fell, he turned to see the Dark Elf Prince Drooz’Kang, his bloody face smiling after just receiving vengeance. DSC_1775 by skaforhire, on Flickr He could hear them talking over his body. He was not dead. He knew gods did not die. But he was trapped. DSC_1776 by skaforhire, on Flickr “We cannot let them have his body. He is immortal, he could still rise. It would be better to take him with us back to Avon Hill.” Agalmar said. “The staff is the greater source of his power. I will take this, and forge you a sword my king.” Maelord said. “You may need it in the coming battles of retribution. The rest of Kaliphlin will not sit idle. Drooz’Kang spoke up. “I consider our bargain complete human king. Do not come over the Northmounts, our alliance held until the Desert King fell.” “Believe me, dark elf, we have no desire to tread on your tundra filled lands. Stay north, and we will not have a problem.” Agalmar said. At this point, Ark’Mora’s vision faded to black as the last words that he heard came from Maelord. “Perhaps I will make you a new coat of arms too… something more… dragony? Maybe?” +=+=+=+=+= emptyw by skaforhire, on Flickr The next thing he remembered was waking up foggy, and walking. For hundreds of miles. Day upon Day upon day he walked without knowing where he was going. His first clear memory was back in this chamber. But it was so much different. All of his kin, save Kaliph Raa had been plundered. The powerful enchantment protecting his burial place seemed to protect some of what was around him, but mostly just his sarcophagus. empty by skaforhire, on Flickr He could feel his own body regenerating, he looked down to see that he was mostly in burial rags, but he could see fresh flesh returning to his body. He felt… good. But lost, longing for her, longing for his power, his throne. Sadness swept over him as he realized that the dynasty had ended with him, and that respect for his family had dwindled enough that people dare loot their graves! He knew at that moment that he would bring back his family’s honor. He would restore the great kingdom of Kaliphlin. DSC_1729 by skaforhire, on Flickr --------------+ In the weeks to come he gained men, money, and most importantly Kaliph’s staff. Which had been given to him by a supporter… Ra… he was brought back to the present by the Nile Croc’s voice. “My lord, may I please rise and tell you more about our operation?” The Desert King smiled, benevolence, humility, but power and strength. The four points of rulership according to Horros. He would show his subjects all these traits, and he would put the Ulandians back into the ocean, tame the rebel lords, and forge new alliances to strengthen Kaliphlin once more. DSC_1798 by skaforhire, on Flickr

Note to readers: if you're rushed for time, you can skip to the last paragraph. Siedna: Ah, good, we're all here. Council members, as you can see, we're joined today by Lady Akantha, at the invitation of the Alikos elders. Matteus: Okay, let's get straight to business. Ruadh must choose a side in this conflict. Look, I know y'all don't want to get involved, but we may not have a choice in the matter. The best defense is a good offense, right? Euphemios: That my be true in battle, Matteus, but I don't believe it's the best course of action for our community. Siedna: You'd prefer we remain neutral, then? Euphemios: The Tauri of the Alikos are not bloodthirsty like you humans! We wish only to follow our ways in peace. Together with the Atelier, Siedna, we have formed a prosperous and just community. Why would we leave it? Doing so would leave Ruadh exposed, and put us at risk of capture and slavery. Themis: Euphemios, you old coot, you know some of the younger Tauri are restless and eager to see the world, just like you used to be, before your muzzle turned gray. (Turning to Siedna) He's right, though. The Alikos will remain neutral. Siedna: Noted. And what of the merchants, Kristin? Kristin: As Euphemios said, Ruadh has been prosperous for us. Our success lies in following the Kaliphlin ideal of trading with all, equally and fairly. So long as it's profitable. (Grins for a moment.) Siding with a faction means, at best, loss of trade with the other factions. (Looks somber.) Look, Ruadh has been a place for many to start anew. Look at the Potters -- they came here from Mitgardia to escape strife. Why would we wish to bring it here? Why jeopardize a good life and good profit? Siedna: Thanks, Kristen. Seamus? Seamus: Regardless of the official Ruadhi stance, the Atelier must remain neutral. Sure, we train our artists to be good in a fight, but that's brawling. War and soldiering are another thing entirely. (Matteus nods in agreement.) More importantly, if we took sides, Ruadhi artists across the Guilds would be vulnerable to political attacks. In other lands, our welcome is dependent not just on our talents and geniality, but our disinterest in politics, local or guilds-wide. Siedna: I agree. Now, Lady Akantha, you've been rather vocal, working to persuade Ruadhis to side with the High Council. In fact, it seems you've been surreptitiously recruiting since you arrived in Ruadh. We'd like to hear your arguments. Lady Akantha: I wish only for the Tauri to continue to have the right to follow their ways as free people. The Desert King once enslaved us as beasts of labor. The Ulandians have subjugated an entire race;who is to say the Tauri will not be next? Only Flagg and the High Council have left us in peace. If the Tauri of Alikos remain neutral, they might be left alone, but what about their brethren throughout the Guild? Who will fight for them? What will happen to us if Ulandus or the Desert King prevails? We must protect our freedoms! And Ruadhi, as friends of the Alikos -- how can you risk them falling into slavery? Euphemios: How can you talk of fighting to protect our ways? Do you know nothing of our history, girl? As slaves we were used as beasts of war! And you suggest FIGHTING to protect our freedom to stay OUT of conflicts? Lady Akantha: (voice raised): Sometimes compromises are necessary! Surely you realize the ends justify the means! Euphemios: We WILL NOT have our culture compromised by lure of your exotic beauty, you hear me? We WILL NOT -- Themis: (inturrupts) Enough, Euphemios! (more calmly) Captain Corydon? What's been the mood in the Brute Squad? You'd know better than most how the younger 'Taurs are leaning; perhaps you could fill us in. Captain Corydon: Most of our troops agree with the Alikos elders, ma'am; they want to protect our home and our ways. There are few, what did you call em? Restless ones, eager to follow Lady Akantha. Siedna: And what are our defensive capabilities, Captain? Can we afford to lose anyone? Captain Corydon: Actually, ma'am, our troops have more than doubled, between new recruits and newly re-enlisted members who want to defend us. The Brute Squad is stronger than ever, ma'am, and more than capable of protecting Ruadhi peace. Those that want to fight for the High Council, well, to be honest, ma'am, I'd rather let 'em go. Don't want folks who don't really want to be here. Siedna: All right then. Lady Akantha, thank you for speaking with us. Council, it seems we're all in agreement. (Matteus rolls his eyes but remains silent.) I move we remain neutral and shore up our defenses. Short of closing the city, there will be spies and intrigue, but no violence or destruction will come to Ruadh. I also suggest we allow Lady Akantha to gather what forces she may. Active Brute Squad members must seek permission from the Captain to be released from their duties, so we don't become weak. All in favor? (A chorus of "aye" and hands raised.) All opposed? (silence) Ruadhi city council members, left to right: Captain Corydon, Brute Squad representative; Matteus Ruadh, founder; Siedna Ruadh, founder; Seamus Gallach, Atelier representative; Euphemios, Alikos Elder; Themis, Alikos Elder; Kristin Eriksdottir, merchant representative. ____________________________________________________________________________________ I'd like to claim UoP credits for: - Trade and Law: Governing Body (approved) Constructive criticism always welcome!