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A powerful and mysterious mage who fought in many battles during the civil war travels towards Sultan's Gate with his newly trained dragon to fight for the Desert King once more. This is for Ska's mini challenge.
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This is my entry to the Desert King's Nocturnus Crusade mini-challenge Changing Allegiance (again) The notorious mercenary company "The Arkbri Falcons", under the command of Ediz Falconi, were fighting for the High Council during the Kaliphlin Civil War. They have however decided that at the moment joining the forces of the Desert King presents the most likely prospect for hoards of gold at a moderate risk. Mounted on camels, the Arkbri Falcons are now following one of Kaliphlin's ancient paved roads on their way to Sultan's Gate. They will meet up with forces from all over Kaliphlin to support the Desert King in his crusade to return Nocturnus to it's rightful rulers. Falconi leading his troops.
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A Free-build for the Guilds of Historica and a continuation of the story of Adira Magdeburg. Please check here: http://www.eurobricks.com/forum/index.php?showtopic=113129#entry2291454 and the ones before it for back-story. The sun's rays shone down upon Ravensbrook Tavern and Inn, their late summer heat competing with the mountain breezes over the group of refugees and make-shift soldiers congregating beneath their celestial battlefields. Cumulus clouds coasted over the mountainscape, their shadows crawling over the pinnacles and valleys. To Adira the bright atmosphere seemed almost obscene in light of the impending battle. The mood of the soldiers around her were equally annoying, as if they were expecting some kind of a party. They had been called from the field and outskirts of the town, and many did not yet fully comprehend the fact that their town was currently being overrun by Desert King troops. Those who did seemed to be in a state of disbelief, nervously making small talk with those around them. Only the refugees fleeing the town fully realized what doom overhung them. It was a pitiful trickle, most of the refugees probably fleeing into the mountains and finding their own way to the pass leading to the Nestlands. As it were most of those taking the highway were those who did not have the endurance to take a longer rout, and thus did not have the strength or prowess to fight. Adira glanced over the few dozen soldiers assembled. It would be enough to hold the road for a short while, but they would be done for as soon as the Desert King troops made the trip around their lines. “My Lady!” Adira glanced up from her morose speculations to see Mardil, espire, and keeper of her family's treasury striding toward her down the path. His face was grim, and his measured pace was marred by a slight limp. After a few moments he had reached her side, his breath a little ragged from exertion. “Lady Navabi, I bring news from Havers. He is still trying to find any men or other refugees left in the town, but is hard pressed to keep himself out of the hands of the Desert King forces. He reports wholesale slaughter, and whoever is not killed is taken prisoner or misused. The Desert King is showing no mercy.” “Sacking, raping, burning, that is the way of conquering armies.” Adira answered curtly. “This is the gamble we all took when we first defied the Desert King.” She nodded toward Mardil's leg. “You didn't get hurt, did you?” Mardil paused, staring into Adira's eyes. “You aren't the same person you were when you first came to Estolad. Where has your compassion gone?” Adira ignored his question, staring at him stone-faced. “You didn't answer me.” Mardil shrugged. “An old war wound. It won't inhibit me much, but I won't be doing any fighting.” His gaze became intensive. “Adira, you can not ask these people to fight again. We have lost the battle, now it is time to save as many lives as we can and flee. You can not do this!” “Remember who you are speaking to.” Adira turned toward the town, her eyes searching the horizon grimly. “I will not give up this town until there is not one building left and not one man left to defend it.” Her gaze moved back to Mardil's anguished face. “Since you are not in a position to fight, you will lead the non-combatants over the mountains. I place them under your charge. We will stand and fight.” Mardil cast one last pleading glance toward her, and then turned without a word toward the mountains, giving his arm to an elderly women as she made her way through the throng of soldiers. Adira watched them for a moment longer then looked up toward the sky. Clouds were gathering overhead, and she smiled grimly. The battle for Estolad will happen here, and only one force will leave.” “They are coming! The Desert King has come!” The man shouting ground to a halt outside the inn, sweat streaming down his face despite the chilling wind. “They are just around the next curve!” Adira closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them again. She drew her sword, and all eyes turned toward her. Slowly she scanned the faces around her. “You all have gathered here to fight for your homes, your city, your families. You have come to fight for Kaliphlin. This is where your devotion will be tested, this is where you will make a name for yourselves as either those who ran, or those who stood firm in the face of darkness. So let men compare themselves to the men of Estolad, and find themselves lacking. Let them hold us up as a standard of patriotism and endurance, and let them say that the men of Estolad stood, and died, for the freedom of Kaliphlin.” The Inn-keeper, a large man with a flaming red beard lifted his broad-sword above his head a roared in a voice that had deafened many a tavern. “For Estolad! For Kaliphlin!” The soldiers let out a cheer that echoed through the valley. At least what they lack in experience they make up for in patriotism, Adira thought. Quickly she ordered them into a shaky battle formation, those with shields in front, archers behind, and then took her place in the second row. Only after the soldiers had settled themselves into position did they hear the sound of marching feet on the road. The Desert King soldiers filled the roadway and overflowed it, trampling the crops on either side. Their helmets glistened in the sunshine, and their blades flashed. It was even more then Adira had anticipated. The Desert King doesn't take any chances. Then their ranks parted, like a wave parting on a rock, and a black mailed man stepped out of their midst. Only he wasn't a man. Adira stared into the eyes of the same undead warrior who had attacked her outside of Queenscross, and had just recently helped to kill her friend and loyal soldier Udgr. Hate seared it's way into her mind, almost clouding it. Desperately she fought the urge to charge forward now and end this creature's life, once and for all. She knew it would destroy their chance to successfully defend the street, but suddenly the battle seemed to fade in significance. Then he saw her. His sword left his sheath, and rose above his head. For a long moment his eyes stared into hers, taunting her. Then his sword fell and all hell broke loose. The surge of Desert King troops almost broke through the Estoladim ranks in it's first charge. The front soldiers faltered for a moment, but then with a war-cry from the Inn-keeper they regained their resolve, striking out ferociously into the Desert King horde. Adira moved toward the center of the road, trying to be visible and present for her men. A field commander of a trained army could afford to direct from the rear, but what the men of the mountains needed most was a leader who fought with them. Adira pushed her way into the front of the line and struck down a large spearman as he thrust toward a fallen towns-man. The smell of blood assailed her nostrils, and dust caked on the roof of her mouth. The striking of blades on shields crashed in around her, pierced by the cries of the fallen. Then and arrow whistled past her head, clattering off the shield of the man behind her. Then arrows were fallen all around her, clattering off armor, and sometimes striking home. The towns-men raised their shields above their head, and many were cut down by the advancing soldiers. Then a cry came from the back of their ranks as an archer pointed toward the back of the Inn then turned and started to run. Adira's heart sank. So they saw. They called our bluff. The line broke in chaos. Men were throwing down their weapons and running, and the men standing next to them were being cut down from behind. The inn-keeper bellowed his challenge at the entrance to his tavern only to be cut down from behind. It's over. The thought crossed Adira's mind but she refused to believe it. No, we can still rally! We can defend the road at a higher point, somewhere we can not be outflanked! But already she knew it could not be. There was no option left but to die here, by the blades of their oppressors, fighting for the freedom of Kaliphlin. A sword flew towards her. For a fraction of a moment she considered letting it hit it's mark. But then her sword was up, deflecting the blow. Now she was backing up and a voice, her own and yet not her own, was calling for a retreat. Her legs were carrying her back towards the mountains, along with her men. She would survive. But yet in her soul she was already dead. To be continued... The build. This build took me more then two months to complete (thus explaining my absence, hopefully), and required three Bricklink orders. Tudor houses are not a specialty of mine, and I had to redo the white-wash four times. The trees were a last minute add-on, and yes, I know they look horrible. The back. I was running out of pieces about now, so the landscape isn't quite as up to par as in the front, but I think it was worth it. I was originally intending to have water on this side (thus the dock), but didn't end up doing it (lack of pieces). The fletcher. Lame (and apparently deaf, if he didn't hear all the comotion on the other side of the Inn), he was called into service plying his trade for the town's archers. Probably still grumbling about how he can't be expected to make crossbow bolts without any experience. The Inn's one remaining dairy cow. They used to have many, but all the others were used up in the siege. This one probably won't survive the siege either, unless some remaining peasant decides to, uh, liberate it from the desert King troops. And I guess that's it! Thank you all for your patience, and comments! Soli Deo Gloria & Sola Gracia!
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A free-build for the Guilds of Historica and a continuation of the story of Adira Magdeburg. Please check here: http://www.eurobricks.com/forum/index.php?showtopic=117072 and the ones before it for backstory. This is also a cross-over with gedren_y, so please go check out his fantastic builds! Long Live the Kaliphlin and the High Council! The humid climate of the Nestlands was usually not very appealing to most Kaliphlinians, but to Adira it felt like heaven. The freedom this land brought her people was worth a thousand discomforts, though her own mind remained trapped in anger. And after the frigid cold of the mountain path behind her, the warm weather wasn't so bad. The people of Estolad weren't the only ones who had fled to the Nestlands, apparently. A large population of refugees already existed on the southern face of the mountain of Edst Nol where the people of the Nestlands had prepared housing for an occupation that never came. They, for the most part, gladly welcomed the refugees, among them, meeting them on the path coming down from the pass with blankets and food. Adira wandered among them, trying to help, but for the most part being ignored. She refused to show any emotion except concern, but on the inside her anger and hurt did nothing but fester and grow. What have I but the love and trust of my people? If they do not trust me, what reason have I yet to live? Yet the answer always came back with equal resonance, cold and ruthless. Revenge. The Desert King has taken everything from me, even my two most trusted friends. I will hunt down Sirhan until there is no place left for him to hide. Then I will kill him. The sound of someone standing silently behind her reached Adira's ear but she refused respond. She did not, however, walk away. Let them bring their complaints somewhere else, I no longer govern this people. I am a useless appendage. “Lady Magdeburg. I have heard of your loss, and bring you the condolence of my people. Please except any help we can give you and your people.” The voice had a slight Nestlands accent, but was still recognizable. Adira had met the Nestlands Minister of External Affairs Aturl Prndrn when she was first deployed in the Nestlands as a Guerrilla not even a year ago. “There is nothing you, or anyone can do.” She turned. “But thank you none the less.” Aturl nodded slowly. “If there is nothing to be done, then what does the Lady of Estolad plan to do?” Adira smiled sardonically at the title. “Bring my enemies down with me.” “A noble aspiration. And this will heal you?” The Minister asked. Adira paused, considering. Finally she spoke. “A shattered vase can not be mended, but it can stab the one who broke it.” Aturl was silent for some seconds. “I wish I could go with you, but since I am tied down here I will help you all I can. Tell us what weapons, disguises, and food you will need, and we will supply them as best we can. And when you wish for solace, come to the Nestlands. Perhaps your people will have you back.” To be continued... The build. Those on Flickr saw this several months ago, but I finally have been able to use it in GoH! Yay.... Also, please check out Gedren's builds: http://www.eurobricks.com/forum/index.php?showuser=14064 Expect my next post in roughly a week or two (most likely the latter). Soli Deo Gloria & Sola Gracia!
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A free-build for the Guilds of Historica and a continuation of the story of Adira Magdeburg. Please check here: http://www.eurobrick...howtopic=116423 and the ones before it for backstory. You are a coward. You can not even die honorably. You ran from death! The words played over and over in Adira's mind, forming a cadence with the pounding of her feet on the rough mountain path. The wind bit into her, but that pain was trifling in comparison to the bitter pain of these words. After all, what had she ever lived for but courage and honor? And now she was running like a frightened hare, running as much from her defeat as from the death or torture that awaited her back in the valley. Finally her legs would carry her no farther and she halted, leaning on one of the numerous pine trees along the road. People passed her by, making for the pass to the Nestlands, but none of them made eye contact. They knew she had failed them. They knew she continued to fail them. But Adira did not care anymore. She had no pride left to protect. She was bled dry. Slowly she removed her cumbersome outer armor and laid it at the side of the road. It was of Mitgardian make, some family heirloom. As soon as she took it off she felt refreshed, no longer protected, but at least free to move around as she was used to. “Lady Magdeburg.” Adira tensed. She knew what she would see when she turned, but she did not want to face it. Why can't he just leave me alone, like everyone else? Slowly she turned and stared at Havers defiantly. “What is it, Captain Havers?” Havers returned her stare levelly. “There are still people in the town down there. We must do what we can to rescue them.” Adira sighed. “The town is lost. They will die there or in the mountains.” “That is NOT true!” Havers' voice was emphatic, almost desperate. Adira took a step back from the fury in his eyes. “Some might escape! What can we do but try?” Adira studied him coldly. “Who is it that you can not find?” Havers glared at her, groping for words. “Me Lady!” Adira spun around, her face red from her altercation. What she saw didn't please her. Adelwight, occupationally a goat-herder and a member of the town Council, stood on the path, armed with a heavy battle-ax and flanked by two young men similarly armed. Behind him stood a square, thatched, and carved log house that she now realized must belong to him. He had been the last deciding vote in making her ruler of Estolad, but he had been very hesitant. Now he would speak of her failure, and probably not in pleasant terms. The man's eyes were grim. “Where are me and me sons needed most?” Adira was taken aback by the question, but quickly regained her composure. “Wherever you most wish to die.” Adelwight let out a laugh that sounded almost like a bray. “That'll be right here, next to th' home of me fathers, and right where the flea-bitten varmints can find us!” It took a moment for Adira to understand what she was hearing. This man is staying here to die when he could probably escape with his family. Why? No. She refused to think of the answer. Instead she posed an indirect question. “What of your young ones? Who will take care of them?” The man's old but fierce eyes turned on her, and she saw immediately that he knew what her true question was. “Me Lady, courage has nothin' to do with charging into the middle of a fray, and all to do with standing where ye have always stood, even to death. We're doing this for our land, every tree, every hillock,” he paused, looking strait at Adira, “every person.” The patriarch leaned on his ax, staring out over the valley. “Ye still have a life to live, a people to lead. Protect me bairns, and all th' people of Estolad that go through that pass.” There was nothing Adira could say. These men were giving up their lives for a town who had spurned their council, and practically invited the enemy to their doorstep. They were giving their lives for her. A tear sprang from Adira's eye. Slowly she started up the path. She noticed that Havers was no longer behind her, but she did not care. Let him kill himself down there. If there was anyone left in that town they would be Desert King prisoners by now, but these few survivors still had a chance. She could help them. To be continued... The build. This build is approximately three months old by now, so most of you might have seen it on Flickr by now. I hope the story made it worth it, however. Back in the middle of the summer I decided I wanted to try something more Mitgardian (surprise surprise) so I made this. This also was posted for the Colossal Battle Contest on Flickr and brought to our County fair, where it won a meaningless little first prize sticker (along with half of the other open class entries. ). I hope to post the next installment, a crossover with Gedren, sometime this month. Soli Deo Gloria & Sola Gracia!
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Qar Riwa is a fortress located along one of the tributaries of the Qar-Arkhan River in southeast Kaliphlin, An ancient and weathered fortress originally under the control of the Desert King, he has allowed High Council soldiers to take over manning it. In the past, it was a outpost along the frontier of the Desert King's empire, but these days, it's main purpose is to guard and maintain the integrity of a spring that sits farther up the canyon, which serves as the start of the tributary. The waters provide irrigation to a few small villages nearby, which in turn serve as reliable rest stations in the vast sea of sand. Another build for GOh. I happily used a bit of Indian (Subcontinent) architecture influence in this one. Thanks for looking and happy building! More shots on my flickr if you guys are interested! Thanks for C&C
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A free-build for the Guilds of Historica and a continuation of the story of Adira Magdeburg. Please check here: http://www.eurobricks.com/forum/index.php?showtopic=117558#entry2390759 and the builds before it for backstory. Long live Kaliphlin and the High Council! This is primarily a story post, so please read it! :) She was going to do it. She was actually going to do it. Adira's mind was running in circles, a fact she was barely conscious of. Her hands were shaking and she clenched the handle of her blade until her knuckles were white. Her eyes, red with lack of sleep, stared through the shadows of the tree she was hiding behind at the road. The idea that he would travel by any other road was unthinkable, and every moving shadow, every hare that made it's way across the road was him. Adira shook her head, furious with herself. What are you, some lover waiting for their sweet-heart on a deserted road? The idea amused her and she smiled. Absently her right hand closed around the end of a rope that hung down the trunk of the tree she stood behind. This is what she would do it with. This is what she would take his life from him with. A flash of gold caught her eye on the road. For a moment she stared at it, then hid behind the tree trunk, pulling her cloak tighter around her. It was him, she would know his features anywhere. Her hand reached for the rope, her fingers slowly folding around it. She listened as his footsteps drew closer, thudding softly along the road. One... two... three! The rope fell, and and a muffled cry came from the other side of the tree. Not wasting a moment, Adira pulled on the rope again and the old tree groaned under the new weight. Adira stepped out from behind the tree, shivers running up her spine. It was Sirhan, now dangling helplessly from a tree, Adira's rope pinioning his arms to his side. He saw her, and fear flooded his countenance. Oh, sweet revenge! A cruel smile curved my lips and I drew my blade. His eyes widened, then shut. “Your guilt has made you weak, Sirhan.” Adira walked up to where the masked man hung, smiling broadly. Drawing his sword, she tossed it into the underbrush nearby. She was no longer smiling when she turned back to him. “A certain friend of mine is asking for your head, though he is not quite able to receive it. You remember Udgr, don't you?” His eyes remained tightly closed. “Just get it over with, demon women! If you must kill me while I am bound at least have the decency of doing it quickly!” Adira raised her blade a placed the point on Sirhan's neck. His mouth twitched, and his breath came quickly. Twang! Sirhan fell to the ground, too surprised to break his fall. After a few seconds he scrambled to his feet, stepping out of the lasso. His eyes slowly rose and stared into Adira's, incredulous. Hers were cold, and the blade pointed at his throat froze him to the spot. “Tell your little King that the will to ressist him has not left Kaliphlin, and that in whatever he does he will have an enemy in Adira Magdeburg.” Adira gestured with her sword toward the road behind him. “Run, Sirhan, and don't look back.” He didn't need to be told twice. Sirhan backed up two paces then turned and bolted down the road as fast as his shiny armor, now plastered with the mud of the road, would allow. Adira watched him, a smug smile on her face. This was definitely the more satisfying option. Let him forever tremble in fear of her, just as the Desert King must be made to tremble before his foes, for they were many. To be continued... The build. This is, again, an old one (The last of the very old ones, I'll be reverting to my more recent ABS Challenge builds soon). With this build I experimented with my tree-making skills and adding dark blue to a landscape. It's a vig., really, but I liked it. And yes, I am reading Crime and Punishment. Amazing book. Thoughts and critiques are always welcomed! Soli Deo Gloria & Sola Gracia!
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A free-build for the Guilds of Historica, a continuation of the story of Adira Magdeburg, and a crossover with Gideon. Please check here: http://www.eurobrick...66#entry2407520 and the builds before it for backstory. Long live Kaliphlin and the High Council! “It is a pleasure to have you here, Adira Magdeburg, or do you wish me to call you Navabi?” I shivered, suddenly feeling the cold of the Barqaian Administrative Building's inner rooms. Another reason you shouldn't do this, you can't stand cold temperatures. I pushed aside the thought, annoyed. The speaker, Lord Gideon of Barqa, evenly kept pace with my nervous steps, smiled courteously, if briefly. I nodded then returned to staring at the floor ahead of me. “Magdeburg will do, thank you.” Gideon continued, his voice cordial. “I understand your people are for the most part staying in the Nestlands? How are they disposed toward you, favorably or no?” You cannot be about to do this, Adira. You should have sent a letter, or just done it unannounced. My mind spun and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. It's too late now, you've already come here. You had better go through with it. I gestured vaguely. “Some are not in the best of spirits, but overall I think their doing well enough.” Not only a deserter but a liar as well. Quickly I changed the subject. “How goes the resistance? Are our allies in Berigora and Eastgate still holding out?” A hint of the half-elf's hidden frustration emerged in his voice. “They remain, though the majority of those not under the influence of GEAR CO. are slothful, benefiting from the Desert's King's bribes. Interestingly enough, it is in the Desert King's own land that the resistance is most zealous, if smaller. Apparently our adversary is veiling himself less and less in his own land and giving in to his true nature.” Adira nodded absently, thinking desperately of how best to approach the subject. “Are many fleeing his lands?” “Actually, yes. The mummy's wars cost many of the peasants their livelihoods in taxes and there are a good many crossing the border into the center lands and Avalonia despite the Desert King's wishes, though the Algus in Mitgardia and the civil war in Nocturnus are keeping those places free of immigration. I tell you, if this continues much longer Avalonia will become increasingly overpopulated and have to start deporting those wishing to come.” Here goes. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. “That's unfortunate, because some of my people are planning to immigrate there.” I looked up at the elf to gauge his reaction. He raised an eyebrow. “And will you allow them to?” I laughed nervously. “Well that's just it, I'm leading them. I couldn't exactly stop them anyway.” I added quickly. Lord Gideon stopped in his tracks and I turned, fearing the worse. I hope I haven't cut too many ties. I watched his exp ressionless face anxiously. The Lord of Barqa gazed ahead of him pensively. Finally he turned to me, his voice measured. “So you won't be helping the resistance anymore?” His voice didn't sound hostile, but he could be hiding it. “Not as much as before, but I will be trying to help as much as possible, harboring refugees and so on...” I trailed into silence, trying to think of any other ways I could still help. None came to mind. “I'm just trying to do what's best for my people.” Gideon nodded slowly, stroking his chin. “Are your people discontented with their hosts in the Nestlands?” “Not exactly...” I paused, searching my mind for a non-detrimental explanation. “Their independent, you see. They've lived up in their valley all their lives, supporting themselves, and now to be thrust into the hands of strangers is more then many of them can bear.” I omitted the fact that many of them blamed me for it. “I think they just want to be masters of their own livelihoods again, living off of their own labor.” Gideon nodded again, slowly. “And they believe Avalonia will give them this chance?” “More then any of the other Guilds.” There was an elongated pause and I waited with baited breath for his response. Finally a look of resolution came into his eye and he smiled grimly. “What do you need?” Relief flooded my mind and I let out my breath slowly. “A small guard, and provisions. The Nestland administrative council have enough people on their hands as it is, I do not wish to burden them any more.” “You realize that we are also in the same predicament, Lady Magdeburg. But,” he held up a finger to stop my interjection, “I will allow you a score of cavalry until you reach the Kaliphlin border and a weeks provisions. I can not give you more, but I think that should suffice.” He smiled ruefully. “Perhaps we can get reimbursement from some of the richer cities less supportive of the cause.” “It's worth a shot.” I said, hardly listening. I have gained the help of Barqa, but what will the rest of the resistance think? I smiled inwardly. To the Abyss with what they think! I am doing what is best for my people. That is all the reason I need. To be continued... Sorry, no build Pic. Yep, this is an ABS reuse build. I think it works pretty well (and I built it with this in mind), so I think you'll forgive me. The floor pattern I'll have to credit to Full Plate, at least that's where I first saw it. I have used it before but not on this scale. Also, and this is to everyone but to Gideon in particular; please tell me if I got anything wrong in my portrayal of current events or your character, Gideon, and I can fix it. :) Thanks! Disclaimer: Yes, I am changing factions. Let me explain. First off, when I started noticing that practically every build I posted didn't have anything to do with a desert I started to wonder if my building style and collection fit (this was about half a year ago). When the Desert King won I almost decided to stay just for the fun of showing the resistance, but in the end I came up with an even better way for my story to play out that led me to Avalonia. I hope you understand, and while I will miss the Kaliphlin community (I'll be back to help the resistance whenever needed!) I still think this is for the best. Sorry if I am treating this at all flippantly, but I'm happy right now. I just got Galactic Civilizations III. Soli Deo Gloria & Sola Gracia!
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A free-build for the Guilds of Historica and a continuation of the story of Adira Magdeburg. Check here: http://www.eurobrick...86#entry2261451 and the ones before for backstory. The pines sighed in the breeze, then fell silent, leaving the fields without noise except for the occasional chirp of a passing bird. A ball of ice lay at the bottom of Adira's stomach, refusing to leave. Nervously she surveyed the landscape around her. Nothing but grassland, pines, and the small collection of ruined walls and pillars that crawled along the ground around her. They should be here by now, it's nearly noon... Beside her, a villager mumbled something about skipping their midday meal, but quickly fell silent under Havers' stare. The hills again returned to noiselessness, leaving Adira alone with her thoughts, and her fears. What if the Desert King can see our positions, and is taking an alternate rout to Estolad, or flanking us at this very moment? Or perhaps Amir's Guerrillas have been alerted, and are descending from the mountains! What if the men haven't had enough training, and flee at the first sight of the battle? Adira glanced over the men behind her, and the ones on the other side of the road. Her gaze settled on Udgr, the Orc sergeant behind her, and Havers, the one legged ex-soldier, then over at Sirhan, the masked Guerrilla across the way, and her fears slowly began to calm. If they flee then I shall die defending in their place, and I know I shall have at least three others with me. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of marching boots in the distance, from the West. Mummies, and their allies. Her grip tightened on her blade, and her palms began to sweat, as they always did before battle. The ball of ice in her stomach seemed to double in size as she stared at the road, waiting for the first mummy to step into view. There was a dash of red, then the Mummy commander stepped into view, his cape swirling about him in the breeze. He was followed by two elite guards, then a whole procession of local militia from the town at the head of the valley, their dark green and black uniforms in striking contrast with the dark red of the mummy's uniforms. A gasp came from one of the villagers next to Adira, and she turned angrily to see him drop his spear and cover his mouth with his hands. “That's my son, in the Desert King ranks....” “Silence.” Adira whispered. She turned to Havers, her expression hard. “Order the attack.” Havers hesitated, then nodded. His voice echoed over the fields. “Forward and Charge!” A hail of arrows flew from the trees, slamming into the Desert King ranks, closely followed by yelling villagers in rag-tag armor and weaponry. All order among the Desert King troops disintegrated as soldiers saw the men next to them fall, pierced with arrows. Chaos ensued, as the villagers closed with their dis-ordered attackers, splitting shields and shattering helms in their fury. The troops panicked, fighting desperately but separately, each trying to protect his own neck. Adira charged toward the fray, her elation growing with each second. We're going to win! They're retreating! She charged toward the Desert King commander, a Mummy general, as he struck down an ax-wielding villager, drawing her sword. He turned, catching sight of her, and she ground to a halt. For a moment they stared at each-other, the battle moving in slow motion around them. Finally the Mummy spat toward her, his eyes burning with hate. His voice barely carried over the tumult of the battle. “I'll be back! And when I come next you will not survive!” A spear-wielding villager came up behind him, and he spun, cutting the man down. He scanned the battlefield, his gaze moving over the bodies that had been his men, then turned and, taking two running steps, leaped over a surprised villager and on toward the west. A cheer rose from the villagers, echoed down the road where more rag-tag soldiers raised their weapons over their vanquished foes. They had had victory over the forces of the Desert King, that which was counted impossible to do without a trained army. Adira surveyed the battlefield, suddenly tired and thirsty. Villagers walked about, congratulating each other, and laughing. A single man bent over the lifeless body of one of the militiamen, crying bitter tears for his dead son, but elsewhere the people celebrated their victory. Many were cheering her, and Havers was smiling broadly at her underneath his helm, but all she could think of were the Mummy General's last words. “I'll be back. And when I come next you will not survive.” The fight was not over, it had just begun. To be continued... Soli Deo Gloria & Sola Gracia!
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The sun filtered into the hall in silence, creating patches of colored light where the stained glass windows shone. Nasr's footsteps echoed through the hall, mingling with the muttered prayers of the one worshiper in the temple at the time. The two Mummy guards stood at rigid attention. Not every day did the Commander of Operations in the area north of the Nestlands come to their jurisdiction, this lonely shrine. But now he was striding next to Nasr, one of the few men Nasr knew who could keep pace with him. The man's deep, alert brown eyes turned, fixing their gaze on Nasr's battle-hardened, black ones. He stared at him thoughtfully for a few seconds before speaking. “I hear you performed well at the Duels. It is a pity you were eliminated.” Nasr inclined his head, taking the compliment on face value. The man continued. “And now that your leg hampers your athletic capabilities we must find a position of command for you. To tell you the truth, I would have liked it if you were here to replace me, these bird worshiping jungle dwellers are giving us quite a hassle, and we can never seem to completely eliminate them... but it was not to be.” Nasr's face didn't change expression. “What are my orders?” “Ah, orders...” A wry smile passed over the man's face and his eyes passed beyond Nasr for a few seconds. The worshiper's servant, one of those cat-creatures from Ulandus, shuffled his feet uncomfortably, waiting for his master. The man's eyes refocused on Nasr. “A certain High Council Guerrilla band has been paining me recently. They are few in number, but have the support of the natives. Your job is to hunt them down and kill every last one of them... except their leader. I want him alive.” The man back toward the door and restarted his stride toward the door. “You will be given half a score elite assassins and anti-Guerrilla experts. That is all I can spare at the moment.” Nasr nodded. 'Only ten men, against a complete Guerrilla force... Pretty good odds.' A grunt sounded behind them and Nasr spun around to see one of the mummy guards topple to the ground, and arrow shaft protruding from his neck. A bang echoed through the hall and Nasr turned to see a group of High Council archers rush through the door on the far end of the building, arrow on string. At their head strode a mummy dressed in the red and blue of the High Council and wielding a black longsword. Nasr heard a gasp of recognition to his left and there was the sound of steel scraping against steel as he and the Commander drew their swords. The Mummy behind Nasr growled and started toward the intruders only to drop to the floor with an arrow in his chest. The leader of the Archers glanced at him then turned his gaze toward the Commander. “I would suggest that you and your crony drop your weapons, unless you wish to become a storage unit for my company's arrows.” Seething hatred boiled up inside of Nasr at the name. 'When was I ever this man's crony!?!' But the sight of the half dozen arrow shafts aimed at his neck spoke for themselves and Nasr slowly let his blade drop to the floor. The sword clanged loudly on the flagstone floor, shortly followed by another to his left. The worshiper's servant dropped a long dagger he had drawn. The Mummy Commander Fixed his gaze on the Commander, waiting a few seconds before speaking. “A pleasure to see you, Ramir. Last time we met you appointed me commander of a small watchtower near Everlast. Remember?” “I remember.” Commander Ramir said, through clenched teeth. “That tower, along with all the surrounding land,” the Mummy continued, “is now in the hands of the High Council. And now, I believe, you are too.” Nasr took a step back. “You won't get away with this, traitor!” Ramir yelled. Nasr took another step back. “You are mistaken, in both respects.” The Mummy responded. “For one, I am no traitor. 'I' was never on your side in the first place. Secondly, I will get away with this, because you are coming with me.” Nasr took another step back and felt for something behind him. His hand met a pillar and he quickly ducked behind it. He glanced around him, searching for a weapon. His eyes lit upon the small stone pedestal upon which some sacred jewel was placed. 'Perfect'. “You betrayed our trust!” Ramir shouted. “Trust is only as strong as the thing in which it is placed.” The Mummy responded. Nasr leaped out into the open and hefted the pedestal, letting the jewel fall clinking to the ground. The archers spun towards him, but not soon enough. Taking a few running steps forward, Nasr hefted the pedestal toward the High Council archers, aiming specifically for their commander. The Mummy turned, and his eyes focused on the object flying toward him. Reflexes kicked in and he leaped out of the way, just as the pedestal smashed into the floor past him, almost hitting one of the archers, and demolishing his Longbow. Nasr didn't wait for them to react. Ignoring the pain coming from his leg Nasr sprinted toward the open door, closely followed by the worshiper’s cat servant. Ramir hesitated a moment, still trying to comprehend what happened, then started after them. An arrow whizzed over Nasr's head and he redoubled his pace. There was a yell from behind him but Nasr didn't bother to look. He had been given an assignment. Not even the man that gave it to him would stop him from carrying it out now. The build. I was experimenting with a different style of stonework, (having only patches of greebles, along with patches of olive green for moss) and a raised part of the floor. I also tried stained glass again, and I think I was slightly more successful this time. The chandelier is new design for me as well. 'nother Pic. Anyhow, another LOM convertible, that happened to be directed against the Desert King (heavens knows we need it). Hope you enjoyed the story. And also; you are correct if you drew a distinction between the Ramir fig and Disco's character. I was originally planning on making this a counter-guerrilla to his attack on Eastgate, until I found out about the size limit. (Dang it!). In any case, hopefully this will do. And also: since there seemed to be some confusion about how to counter my previous Guerrillas, I will set out a few possibilities. 1. Recapture the Commander. 2. Show a capable replacement. 3. Destroy the whole building with them in it and take the title for yourself. Anyway, as long as you don't kill any of my characters, you can do pretty much anything with them. Soli Deo Gloria & Sola Gracia! I would like to claim UoP credit for: Stained Glass (Mosaics, stained glass, or other complex SNOTed floors designs).
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A DK soldier and two Goblins from the Rakath capture a scout.
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The Nile Crocs strike again!! Led by the mysterious Ka-a-Sobek, the fearsome Nile Crocs wage war against the enemies of the Desert King, mercilessly eliminating small groups of hostiles. Following a series of minor victories they have become increasingly aggressive and have begun to set their sights on bigger prizes... After receiving word that a large Ulandian force would be passing nearby Ka-a-Sobek knew it was finally time to go all out. He gathered all his troops in nearby areas and planned an ambush… It was a peaceful, sunny day. A gentle, soothing breeze rustled the pam trees, and the water was calm, reflecting the beautiful blue sky. There was a tranquil silence, broken only by the occasional squawk of tropical bird deeper in the trees. Suddenly the silence was shattered by a continuous tapping sound, growing louder by the minute. Suddenly a pair of marching soldiers came into view, then another pair, and another, and another, until a score of soldiers could be seen marching in a column. They wore strange looking breastplates and were garbed in a light shade of green. On their heads they work polished silvery helmets, which shone blindingly in the sunlight and carried razor sharp spears. These were soldiers of the Second Legion of Ulandus, the Salamanders. Suddenly, the entire line dissolved into chaos. Along the entire bank Nile Croc warrior appeared out of the water, rushing onto the shore while more warriors appeared in the water behind them. Ka-a-Sobek led the attack from the front, ambushing the front of the column. He burst out of the water, shouted "ATTACK!!!!!" and charged onto the shore.There he dueled against the Ulandian officer in command of this unit. The duel was ferocious, and several times Ka-a-Sobek barely avoided being impaled by the Ulandian. The duel raged on for several minutes, during which the Crocs finished off the remaining Ulandians Eventually the Ulandian officer tired slightly, and Ka-a-Sobek quickly ended the duel. The battle was won! After the battle the Nile Crocs had a huge feast, which lasted the rest of the day. Afterwards they left a message nearby for the Ulandians Additional Pictures: Ulandian Officer Croc Elder The road Figless The Nile Crocs trained war crocodile Sorry about the bad pictures(again). I was in a HUGE rush to take these since I had to leave for a ski trip immediately after this and I wasn't going to get back till after the deadline, so I had almost no time time to take pictures. C and C appreciated
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{Cue: Thomas Bergensen Music} CRUNCH! The sound of bones snapping beneath his mace gave Nasr a sense of grim satisfaction bordering upon delight. The sniveling Ulandan's arm seemed to snap downward as Nasr's mace hit it's shoulder and it opened it's mouth to cry out in pain only to have it's head smashed in from the side as Nasr brought his mace back in an underhand blow, sending the Ulandan flying several yards before he hit the ground with a delightful snapping sound that could only be it's spine. That's what it was anyway, an It. These Ulandan scum, traitorous backstabbers that they were, should not be addressed as human beings. Their place was in Sheol. And that was why Nasr was here, to kill the lot of them and send the cowardly “High Council” soldiers whining back to their crumbling cities of sand, in the name of the Desert King. There was a shout from his right and Nasr turned to see a Barqaian knight charging toward him. A smirk spread over his masked face and he raised his mace, swinging a diagonal blow, the hardest to dodge, at the man's torso. The man surprised him by leaping back nimbly, just out of reach of Nasr's mace, and then leaping back in again, landing a thrust right under Nasr's arm-guards. Not a fatal wound, but painful none-the-less. Nasr swung at the man again, forcing him to leap back out of range, and giving Nasr a slight rest-bit. Nasr studied the man just as he knew the man was studying. Clearly he was a prize fighter, and a good swordsman. But it was his athletic ability that worried Nasr the most. Nasr's own armor would only hinder him in a fight like this, so apparently the only way to defeat him was to somehow catch him off guard, get him within range and keeping him there the seconds it would require for Nasr to swing his mace in the fatal stroke. Nasr lowered his shield slightly, as if weary from battle. In reality his muscles were taught, in preparation for the move the knight was bound to take. He took it. Leaping forward, the knight sliced at Nasr's exposed neck. Nasr sidestepped ever so slightly and brought his shield up just enough to deflect the knight's sword toward the ground, throwing him off balance. Nasr's mace was already in motion. The knight saw his mistake immediately and also saw that it was too late. Unable to change his position fast enough, the knight raised his sword and sliced toward Nasr's exposed neck, trying to bring his enemy down with him. Nasr merely changed the direction of his blow to compensate for the blow. The blow struck. The knights armor snapped and cracked beneath Nasr's mace like so many nut-shells, and Nasr felt more then heard the knights bones crack beneath his armor. Without so much as a death cry the knight fell. He was dead before he even hit the ground. Nasr roared out his wordless battle-cry of victory, raising his bloodied mace above his head. Around him knights and foot-soldiers alike quailed, their faces white as they saw his huge black form over the bloodstained form of their hero. A blood-red film started to cover Nasr's vision as the blood-lust began to take hold of him. This was the day the Desert King would win the Erexhi! And he would be a leading force behind the conquest! Suddenly Nasr felt an bolt of pain from his left leg which, without warning, gave way beneath him. There was an echoing thud as he hit the ground. The red film before his eyes turned to red mists of pain as his leg twisted beneath him. He let out a howl that fairly shook the ground around him and shook leaves off of the tree above him. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of a Barqaian archer hastily retreating from where she had shot from, a smug expression spread across her face. Anger rippled through Nasr and he angrily ripped the barbed shaft from his leg. Immediately a pool of blood started to form underneath him. As he stared at it Nasr's brain started to clear, partly do to the pain. If he didn't get this bound soon then he would most assuredly bleed to death ad then what use would he be to the Desert King? But on the other hand, who would respect him if he returned wounded defeated? By a crossbow-man no less! A new shot of pain came from his leg and instinct immediately took effect in Nasr's brain, subjugating all of his honor to it's will. Nasr rose to his feet and started a limping run toward the boundary-lines, ignoring all other warriors, even as they parted before him like the sea before the prow of a ship. Even as he ran he could see the outcome of the battle. The Council's men had taken advantage of the momentary distraction and were pushing back the disheartened Desert King soldiers and the few Ulandans left on the field. The battle had been lost to the High Council. The build. I tried to make it look barren, like rock formed of molten lava, and a layer of sand over that. The rockwork is a variation of the type you saw in my Character Intro, along with the tree. Strangely, this is my first attempt at this style of base, and I think it turned out pretty well! As for it's elliptic shape... let's just say I consolidated all of the limited overhang on two ends. Would this qualify for desert landscaping in UoP points? If so, I'll apply for that... Soli Deo Gloria & Sola Gracia! Snap. Forgot to add the H9 to my title.
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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 -
(Early one morning in the middle of Kaliphlin. The Ulander advanced guard patrols the area.) Soldier 1: This is the most boring job ever... they could have at least positioned us closer to the river. These reeds are pesky enough to drive one mad! Captain: Ahem! What's that? Would you quit maltreating the reeds and keep a better look out already! Soldier 1: Alright, but there seems to be nothing to look at but reeds and- Soldier 2: I spy... another coconut! Captain: Would you stop that already!? You've been doing nothing else for the last ten minutes! Soldier 2: By the way, captain, do you have any idea what that gigantic coco- Captain: Arrgggg! If you mention a coconut again I'll- Soldier 2: No, seriously, check it out for yourself. (points toward to palm tree) Captain: Hmm! That does look odd, let me see (pulls out telescope and looks at the tree. After focusing it he jumps nearly his own height into the air and then rolls over laughing) Soldier 1: Well? What is it? Captain: (still laughing very hard, hands over the telescope) look at that for a second! (A little later, creeping up to the tree) Captain: Shh! Sounds like he's talking to himself. Mummy: (sipping his coconut juice, enjoying the swaying motion of the tree) Ahh! This's the best spy mission I've been on for a long time! Slurp! Quite a nice vantage point as well, ha! I would like to recieve UoP credit for: Landscape Design - trees (3) Geography - grasslands If I win I would pick L8 as the next battlefield. Thanks for viewing, C&C are welcome!
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*edit* Can a moderator or regulator please add "Prison Doors Were Open Wide" to my title? Thank you! *DOULBE EDIT* Since N18 is already under DK control, can I have this moved to M16? The Scarlet Magnolia was not captured by Ulandian militia as was rumored. Someone else had stolen his cart and had gone about robbing people of their hard earned money. This perpetrator was caught, but meanwhile the Scarlet Magnolia was still on the lose. How, no-one knew, but he had snuck into a Ulandian prison and had freed all the Leanders wrongly being held prisoner there. He left behind his trade mark.
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When the peasants of Auner took the Desert King's men to the top of their tower and threw them over, what they didn't realize was that it was all part of the mummies' plan. The Desert King had sent his men to Auner to establish a trade route within the city. When the mummies applied a very lenient tax on all goods traded with them, the people of Auner rebelled and called them thieves. What they didn't remember was that you can't kill the undead. They are already dead. So when one of the mummies' wrappings got caught on the rough stone and a corpse started walking away, it gave the men of Auner quiet a fright! The mummies locked the rebels in their own tower and posted a guard to keep them in there until the war was over. OoC: I built the base using the same stud count, but arranged differently. Can someone official confirm that this is okay for this counter?
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A slow, warm, desert breeze floated past Adira's face, bringing a hint of the smell of the river with it. She inhaled deeply, letting the dank smell linger in her nose. Almost like the smell that hangs so thickly in the Nestlands... Opening her eyes, Adira surveyed the work site in front of her. Not very far, seeing what terrible selection of tools we have, but they should be done with the barricade by the time the Desert King forces arrive. “Captain, requesting permission to allow the civilians a rest-bit and have the soldiers take over for a while.” Adira turned to see Lieutenant Sirhan at attention. She sighed. “No, Lieutenant, we can not afford to leave the site unguarded. With the soldiers working we would be much more open to attack.” “What do we have to fear? The Desert King forces are hours away.” Sirhan responded, annoyance showing clearly in his voice. A smile played at the corner of Adira's mouth. “The Unexpected.” There was a thud then a gurgling sound behind them. Adira spun around just in time to see their sentry, one of her Guerrillas, fall to the ground, an arrow embedded in his throat. There was a thudding of mail-clad feet on the dirt road and an inhuman shriek as a party of orcs rounded a curve in the road and charged toward them, shrieking their war-cries. Adira's thoughts flew out of her head as a burly orc wielding a large war-club charged her. She was barely able to draw her sword before he was upon her, his war club descending. She raised her blade, barely deflecting his, and retreated a few steps. Think! Remember your training! Adira fell into a swordsman's stance, her mind searching for the next step. He will attack forcefully and with momentum, use that against him. The orc charged again, slicing toward her head. Adira ducked and sliced toward the orc's leg. Her blade bit into flesh. Pressing her advantage, Adira got side stepped the orc's flailing war-club and scored another hit on his chest, bringing him down. Stepping forward she plunged her blade into his neck, bring his war-shrieks to an abrupt stop. Adira stood and glanced around her. One of the villagers was down, and Sirhan had decapitated one of the orcs. The rest of the workers were falling back in disarray, tossing down their tools. We need to form up, fast. Adira raised her voice above the clamor of the skirmish. “Form a line atop the barricade, are the workers!” The orcs were temporarily stymied by the losses they had been dealt, and fell back several yards, giving the High Council troops time to gather their forces. Adira made her way back to the mound of dirt that would have been a barricade, her mind racing. How did the Desert King forces get behind them? They must have crossed the river, but how did they get past the guard we set there? Adira saw one of her sergeants giving orders on the other side of the mound and strode over to him. “How are our chances, Sergeant?” The man removed his helmet a ran a wiped the sweat from his forehead. “With this rabble? Slight. If they can just hold the line against the Desert King charge, then we will be fine. Other then that, we're as good as dead.” Adira nodded toward the building to their left, some shrine or burial chamber. “What if they send a force around the other side of that? Do you think we could withstand a two-pronged attack?” “No.” The man said flatly. “In that case we would have to put our chances behind one charge.” The workers, with a large amount of orders from various sources, had finally formed a line on the top of the mound. Adira motioned for Udgr and he came after launching a few parting orders at the line of workers. “Udgr, I want you to watch the other side of this building, make sure we are not surprised on that side. You may have to hold them off until we can send reinforcements.” Udgr saluted. “It shall hold.” He turned and trotted off toward his position. There was a sudden commotion coming from the Desert King lines. Adira glanced toward them just as their lines parted, allowing a hooded Mummy in black armor to pass through, along with several other hooded men. The mummy surveyed their lines until his gaze rested on her, then it stopped. Adira felt a prickle of fear run up her spine. He's here for me... The mummy finally turned back to his men and motioned for some of them to move around the building. Adira was about to send someone to warn Udgr when the mummy raised his sword... then let it fall. The orcs and Desert King soldiers charged like a body of water bursting through a dam, letting letting loose their collective war-cries. The mummy Commander charged strait toward Adira, dodging the spears of the workers and the bolts of the Council soldier's one crossbowman. Adira's palms began to sweat and she readjusted her grip on her weapon. He looks dangerous, I wonder how much so... A blur of black and dark green rushed past Adira as Sirhan charged the Mummy. The Mummy, surprise written on his face, was barely able to bring his sword up in time to block Sirhan's blow, throwing himself off balance. Sirhan pressed his advantage and put his weight behind the blow, throwing the mummy onto his back, where Sirhan leaped on top of him. There was a short scuffle and the mummy struggled out from under the soldier just as Sirhan's blade descended toward the ground where he had just been. The mummy retreated, limping slightly, back along the road. Adira just then noticed that the course of the battle had been in their favor. The line held! We beat them off! They had maintained a few losses, but the Desert King had taken more, and were now pulling back, their force greatly depleted. One of the Assassins took down a High Council pike-man before retreating, and then the fight was over, as quickly as it had started. A clash of swords came from Adira's left and she spun toward the noise to see Udgr and another of his kind, the short, mountain orcs, exchanging blows almost faster then her eye could follow. Another assassin was trying to circumvent them. There was a quick, high shriek and the other orc leaped back, his hand on his arm. At the same moment the High Council crossbowman shot a bolt over the other assassin's head, forcing him to retreat back behind the building. The wounded orc let out a strange hissing sound and then retreated as well. Udgr hissed back then turned, and his eyes quickly turned from fierce, animal eyes back to their almost-human form. Adira turned back to the road, just in time to see the last orc turn the bend farther up. We have this skirmish, the Desert King will not get to Queenscross this way. We may yet survive this war! Queenscross may hold... I hope. The build. I was originally going to have an irregular base, but it was getting so square do to the restrictions that I decided just to go with a normal, square base. This is my first time building a completely dark tan building, and I think it turned out well. Experimented with some Gothic architecture for the shrine thing as well. And count this as a parting shot, and the Main Pic I was not able to include anywhere else. Soli Deo Gloria & Sola Gracia! _____________________________________________________ I would like to claim UoP credit for: Military Science: Battle Scene. And if I win, I would like to have F8 as the next Warzone.
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If I were to win, I'd like to pick F2 as the next warzone. Aymeri's retreat from Katoren depended heavily on the use of mobile fortifications. While these lumbering defenses succeeded in repelling Ulandus and Desert King attacks on the well-maintained low roads, they fared poorly on the rugged mountainous paths and proved to be easy targets for enemy ambushes. Those driven by oxen were particularly vulnerable as the animals could not easily navigate the rocky terrain. One by one the fortifications fell, often to fire and landslides trigged by enemy forces. Below, a group of Desert King soldiers use a tree they dug up to destroy the advancing wagon: These High Council soldiers weren't given much time to duck: Somewhat of a transformable aspect to this build: The blood requirement: The wagon by itself: ------------------------------------ Phew, almost didn't have a build for this warzone. This was quite the challenging contest - I had plenty of fun ideas, but virtually none that would fit within the maximum footprint of this warzone! Finally threw this together, and it definitely isn't my most inspired build. Still, this was an interesting warzone and there's been some really neat builds enter it. Thanks for looking, feedback always appreciated!
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When Aymeri ordered that the buildings be turned into movable fortifications, not all of the soldiers correctly understood his order. One unlucky man, using what little brains he had, set to mobilizing the most needed building in the town. The outhouse. When his commanding officer found out his soldier's precious time had been wasted he wasn't to happy. Though, he was about to be less happy. What he didn't realize was that the Desert King troops were badly in need of re-leaving themselves and were tired of using cactus for toilet paper. They saw this movable outhouse as the most important fortification they could acquire! OoC: Sorry for the crummy photos. I'll take better ones tomorrow. But now, for bed. Pictures updated now.
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Deep in one of the strongholds of the Southern Dwarves a dwarves alchemist works feverishly on his experiments, mixing various chemicals to create all sorts of unique potions. After hearing that the Ulandian dwarves had created a metallic monstrosity using the souls of the fallen he had set to work to create a very special compound indeed. At last he was successful! "A-ha!" he exclaimed. "I have done it!" He quickly called his superior down to show him his creation. "This compound in my hand is just what we need to stop the metal monster the Ulandians have created! As you know, the Ulandians have utilized the souls of their fallen allies to power their creation. This compound, when splashed on one of their creations will seperate that soul from the physical suit, causing it to become a useless chunk of metal. but the best part is that it also drives the lost soul into a murderous frenzy. As soon as the soul is separated from the suit it takes on a ghostly form, which quickly begins to fade into nothing after a few minutes. But in the meantime the enraged apparition will be fully capable of physical mayhem, and this substance will cause it to forget all memory, loyalty, and thought except a raging desire to destroy! If we can unleash this on their prototypes while they are still inside A Ulandian facility it will create utter chaos! And the best part is, this uses common materials, so we can create a ton of this stuff! The Ulandian creation will be practically useless!" This is a counter to Goliath's GA http://www.eurobricks.com/forum/index.php?showtopic=108398 EDIT: Updated the picture Here's the original picture
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The High Council's mobile fortresses are slowly but surely making their way across the desert, and pushed right through the Ulandians that tried to stop them. However the Desert King's men know that no matter how well built these wooden fortresses are, there is still one thing that can stop them...Dragon Fire! The Dragon quickly blasts the mobile fortress into splinters and races off to hunt down the remaining fortresses. Desert King troops quickly arrive on the scene to clean up the mess left behind by the dragon. Extra pics: Fire The Desert King troops arrive on the scene The High Council survivors fight desperately to hold of the Desert King troops Notes: This is definately not one of my best builds, but I think it turned out ok. C & C appreciated
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River Gate The Second Battle of Queenscross (WZ7:E8) For the Desert King! In the seizing of Queenscross, a detachment of Desert King troops is sent to secure the docks along the Arkbri. Near one of the river gates, they quickly overcome a group of High Council soldiers. It is vitally important that trade and travel along the river remain safe, and, in spite of the increasing conflict in the area, the Desert King will do just that. Overall shot:
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The gardens of Petrea are surely a sight to behold. Containing a variety of plants from all over then land, the have had some of the most important present and historical figures in Historica walk through them. However today is a different story. All of Petrea is under siege from two invading armies. No section of the city is safe from the fighting, no matter how ancient and beautiful it may be. Some of the Desert King's forces are engaged in combat with the city's defenders in the beautiful gardens, while civilian casaulties mount up.
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Loving the thrill of battle and wishing to test his skill, Gal-Turok himself enters the melee. Stripping out of his heavy army to more traditional Goblin garbs, he use his smaller size and superior agility to out duel two Ulandians quite easily. I forgot to put Desert King in the title.
