Search the Community
Showing results for tags 'Desert King'.
-
A Freebuild for the Guilds of Historica, and the next Episode in the story of Adira Navabi. Check here: http://www.eurobrick...howtopic=110813 and the ones before it for backstory. The wind whispered through the trees, swaying their branches in accordance with it's patterns, and carrying the scent of their blossoms to every bee within it's range. Adira smelled deeply, and smiled. The apple tree swaying above her seemed to send all it's best smells to her nose, as if it too were wishing her safety in the coming battle. The thought of the battle intruded upon Adira's bliss like a black mist, seeping into every part of her mind and demanding all of her attention. The Desert King forces had been sighted at the mouth of the valley a few days ago, and would be here any day now. All of the able bodied men would be arming up in the town, including whoever owned this orchard. A sudden loathing for what she was about to do overtook Adira as she stared across the orchard, full with the blossoms of spring. Who am I to bring down the hand the Desert King upon these people, these people who live day by day and whose only worries are I the rain will come late our not? “Lady Adira, the men await you in Estolad.” It was Havers. Adira knew without even turning. She could distinguish his unique mix of the Western and eastern dialects anywhere. She spoke without turning. “I can't do it, captain Havers.” There was a pause, then Havers spoke, his words slow a measured. “I can not speak for all the inhabitants of Estolad, but I believe I speak for the majority when I say that when we voted you as our head, that we would take whatever came for it, whether that be peace or war, life or death. If these people can have such courage as to trust you with their lives, you can at least lead them to the best of your abilities.” Adira turned on Havers, her showing a strange mixture of anger and sadness. “But how can I do so in good conscience? If I do, at least some of them will die. And even if we are victorious, and drive the Desert King forces back out of our valley, what can I promise them but a guarded peace, always in fear of another invasion? I would destroy their peace of mind forever.” Havers let out his breath slowly, staring past Adira in deep thought. Finally he focused on her again. “We can not have everything we wish for in one life, or in any number of lives, so we must choose the lesser of two Weavils*. In this case it is our decision whether we wish for security of our lives, though we be slaves to the whim of an Un-dead Tyrant, or Freedom to choose as we wish, to worship as we wish, though we be forever in fear for our lives. These people have chosen Freedom over security, and they have chosen you to lead them. You can only do as much as you are able, and they wish for no more from you.” Havers turned and started down the road back toward the town of Estolad, his motion halted yet smooth on his peg leg. “The men await.” Adira paused, taking one last look over the orchard behind her, then followed Havers down the road toward Estolad, battle, and a future that would define the history of Kaliphlin forever. To be continued... The build. Just a quick one to continue my story. I gave a try at using the tree-leaves from altBricks, a Lego off-brand store, and I'm not sure what to think. Thoughts? *Ten comments to the person who can tell me where this quote is from. Soli Deo Gloria & Sola Gracia!
-
A Freebuild for the Guilds of Historica, and a continuation of my story with Adira Navabi. Reference this build: http://www.eurobrick...howtopic=109756 for backstory. The world was still. No wind, no birds, nothing. Only the ragged breathing of the soldiers, and the firmness of the mountains beneath them. The dry season had come to Kaliphlin, and the Rakath mountains were no exception. Adira wiped an arm over her forehead, regreting now her choice of outfit for the day. Sure, it was still cold, but with all the winter-gear she was wearing it didn't feel very chilly. Things got even better after you add in a brisk walk, more like a crawl, up the almost vertical mountain face that had swallowed most of their day into it's sweat-soaked depths. Adira wasn't happy. Judging from the silence behind her, the troops weren't in the best of moods either. Fattened by the fruits of Berigora, they did not take kindly to such a strenuous endeavor as this. Adira had only been able to obtain several score of them, but she could make do with those, she thought. But with the Desert King patroling all of the lowlands, she had thought it saker to take a rout through the Rakath mountains. So far, she had been right. A shaodw fell across Adira's path. Absently she wondered which of the men had ventured ahead of her and looked up. A lone figure, wielding a drawn sword, stood at the crest of the hill. The setting sun fell squarely on his chiseled face. That's definitely not one of my men! The man took a few steps forward, apparently unperturbed by the High Council soldier's evident show of hostility. He looked squarely at Adira and a sardonic smile passed over his face. She watched apprehensively as he raised his hand, then dropped it. Almost immediately, all along the ridge, a host of Desert King archers appeared, arrows notched. Adira gulped, and a sense of dread started to pool at the bottom of her stomach as her gaze swept over their ranks. Looking into the eyes of their leader, she knew this was no chance encounter. Their on to me! I must be compromised! But by whom?... Their leader strode forward, a swagger in his step. He wore strangely rustic apparel for a Desert King officer, but he was clearly was Kaliphlinite. At least he's not one of those undead helpers of the desert King, or even worse, from Nocturnus. The man stopped a few paces in front of her, smiling like one who has his enemies in his hands, and knows it. “Good day, Adira Navabi. I didn't think I would ever come across another of my family fighting against the rightful Ruler of Kaliphlin, but apparently I wasn't the last one left.” Adira's eyes widened and her heart skipped a beat. Was it Possible? Had the renowned Amir Navabi switched sides? Gradually an anger, fiercer even then the anger she felt for her true parrents, started to fester within her. She felt a rough hand on her arm, and Udgr's raspy voice sounded in her ear. “We are ready to sell our lives for Kaliphlin, at your command. I will help you fight the traitor.” “That would be most unwise.” Amir said, his smile never leaving his face. “You know all your men would die, little sister, whereas they would at least have a chance at life in the hands of the gracious and merciful Desert King.” “All we need is your word, Captain.” Udgr said, not bothering to whisper now. Adira held up her hand, never taking her eyes off of the traitor before her. She knew what she was doing was selfish, and probably in the end, fruitless, but her anger called for no less. “Wait.” She motioned toward the sword in Amir's hand. “You know how to use that thing, do you not? Then show me.” A shadow crossed Amir's face. “You know the outcome of such a duel, and yet you still wish to fight? And why would I fight you, when I have nothing to gain by it?” “You have everything to gain by it.” Adira answered coldly. “If I lose, my men stand down.” A vicious smile crossed Amir's face, but Adira wasn't done. “And if I win, you're men let us pass.” Udgr grabbed her arm. His voice was urgent. “Do not do this, Captain! You know the outcome of such a duel! The traitor Navabi is one of the most renpowned swordsmen in Kaliphlin!” “I put the decision in your hands.” Adira said, ignoring the goblin at her side. “If you say yes, then we fight. If you say no, then my men will sell their lives dearly. Which shall it be?” Amir glanced over her, thoughtfully. Finally he nodded. “I accept.” Adira drew her sword, shaking off Udgr. Now was the time for revenge. Amir had died to justice, now he would die in reality. Amir made the first move. Stepping forward, he sliced toward Adira's head with lightning speed, then back-handed toward her abdomen. She blocked boith blows with relative ease. He's just playing with me now, testing me defenses. I should as well. I need to find a weekness while he is still warming up. Adira jabbed at Amir's torso, then made a cut towards his neck. Amir's hand moved lazily to block both, and for a moment Adira thought she saw him roll his eyes. Anger again swelled up in her, and she made a quick lunge at Amir's side. Amir seemed surprised at this, and was barely able to block her blow. Satisfaction filled Adira, and she pressed her advantage, slicing upward toward his chest. Suddenly Adira felt a pain in her hand, and her sword was wrenched from her hand. The was a dull thud as it hit the ground a few feet away. Adira looked up toward Amir's face only to feel his blade against her neck. His cold eyes stared into hers down the blade. Adira braced herself for the thrust she knew would come, but it never came. He jerked his head toward the silent soldeirs behind her. “Order the,m to lay down their arms.” Adira considered for a moment the possibility of ordering them to fight, despite thye blade at her throat, but then remembered her promise. If there was one thing she had learned from her adopted father, Magdeburg, it was to keep your promises. That was what made him such a successful businessman. Slowly she nodded. Amir smiled humorlessly, and sheathed his blade. “I considered killing you there, for a few seconds, but in the end decided it wasn't worth it.” He motioned toward the crest of the hill. “Take you're leave, while I am still in a good mood.” Adira stood motionless, her anger simmering within her. Finally she motioned toward Udgr and Sirhan. “I will not leave unless these two come with me.” An unpleasant look crossed Amir's face. He glanced over Udgr, and his eyes rested on Sirhan. After a few second he seemed to come to a decision, and he motioned for them to leave. “Fine then, take them with you. It matters not to me.” Adira slowly reached down for her blade and sheathed it. She felt more then saw all of her men staring at her, accusation in every one of their eyes. She tried not to think of what their fate would be. At least they will be alive... Slowly she strode up the hill, followed by her two silent officers. No one spoke. She glanced back to see Amir's eyes on her, condescending and triumphant. Her jaw set and she continued over the rise. Udgr's voice was at her side. “Do we attempt to free them at nightfall, Captain?” “No.” Adira answered, her voice hard and her eyes set strait ahead. “They will be expecting that. We continue on to Estolad.” To be continued... The build. I'm sorry for the out-of-focus Pictures, but I hope the build/story make up for it. From now on I will mostly be focusing on story, so please stay tuned! My next one should be up in a few days to a week. Soli Deo Gloria & Sola Gracia!
-
Petraea, golden jewel of the southern guild, and home to some of the most impressive gardens in the guilds. With the civil war coming to an end, all three factions found themselves facing off against each other. This part of the gardens was where Petraea portrayed the different agricultural differences from across the guilds. It housed some of the only man-eating pumpkins seen outside of Nocturnus. When the battle started, a music grinder and his monkey were caught up in the action. They fled as soon as possible, leaving the fighting to the soldiers. The troops from Ulandus had taken this part of the gardens first. But the forces from the High Council and the Desert King's men were coming at them from both directions, catching them in-between. The Desert King mummies thought they were out-numbered and didn't expect to get out of the battle alive, but then Charlemagne showed up on a wyvern of all things! He had been off in Ulandus and hadn't been seen for some time. But he showed up just in the nick of time to turn the tide of the battle in the Desert King's favor.
-
A freebuild for the Guilds of Historica, and the next episode in the story of Adira Navabi. Check here: http://www.eurobrick...howtopic=110589 and the ones before it for backstory.Thud! Adira almost jumped as the book was slammed down onto the table in front of her, almost toppling it. Leonard Havers, Chairman of the Council, sure knows how to get people's attention. Havers, a short but trim man, former captain in the High Council Millitia, swept the Council with a piercing stare. He shifted on his peg leg, a memoir of his last battle in the service, and slowly removed his hand from the large tome on the table. The Council of Estolad was silent, all eyes focused on the Chairman. “We have come here together to decide whether or not we will have Adira Navabi, blood daughter of Addalar Navabi, as head of this our village of Estolad.” Havers' eyes focused on each individual Council Member as he spoke, boring into them. “In doing so we would be declaring open rebelion against the Desert King, to whom the last Navabi has sworn allegiance. With the war all but over, we can expect nothing but complete retaliation. If we do not, we will continue to live under the tyranny of the Desert King, keeping our lives, but at the cost of our freedom. This is our choice.” For a moment there was silence. Adira could hear Sargeanr Udgr moving about behind her, and she knew Sirhan was there too, watching them. She had barely been able to procure them a place in the Council room, but she was glad they were there now. It would be good to review notes with them on possible loyalties afterward. Finally a coarse, bearded man across the table from her, in the garb of a goat-herder, spoke. His voice was as coarse as he was. “We all ken the army from Sultan's Gate that was coming toward here several days ago, and we all know we will not be getting no help from Berigora or anywhere else. Many O' us have bairnes and wives to think of, and that Mummy in Sultan's Gate always left enough for us to live by. Why, in the name of all sacred, would we start a wee rebelion when it has no chance of surviving?” He continued without waiting for an answer. “I am a man O' the earth, and these mountains are me home. Why would I die and not be able to enjoy them no more?” “Becuase you believe in Freedom for your children, rather then letting them grow up under Tyranny.” It was Havers speaking. Adira noted him as one who would vote for, when it came to that. Havers continued. “Yes, we can not expect reinforcements, at least nothing substantial. Our only hope to make the Desert King pay so dearly in his attempts to conquer us that he decides we are not worth the bother. If we are successful, then others of like mind as us, former military etc., may join us, and evenetually we may be able to gain protection from one of the other Guilds that fought against the Desert King, and we will be able to live in peace here under our own rule. This is all specualtion, but it is a hope.” He turned, facing one of the Council members Adira could not place. “Even if we die in this attempt, our fame will spread, giving heart to resistance elsewhere. Those who can not fight can be sent across the mountains, to go into hiding with in the Nestlands, where the locals keep up a resistance, but where they will be relatively safe. The rest of us can make a stand for freedom, unencumbered, here in this valley. We are self sufficent, our goats needing minimal supervission, and our crops already planted. We could outlast any siege they put up against us in this valley of ours...” A loud noise, that Adira first mistook for a cough, but later realized was a clearing of throat, came from the only non-human in this Council, the Minotaur. He stared at Havers with large, solemn eyes, and his voice was deep. “I, too, hate the idea of fighting a war we can not win. But the Desert King has never been a friend of my people, and we, most of all, would suffer under his rule. I would not have that happen.” He turned to Adira. “Would you promise my people an equal share in all that happens in this village, Lady Navabi?” “Yes.” Adira said immediately. “I maintain the tradition of the High Council. All Peoples have equal footing under me.” Her gaze moved over the rest of the Council. “I can offer you nothing except freedom. Neither security or wealth, only the satisfaction of knowing that Tyranny did not conquer you, and that your loved ones can live in freedom.” A fist slammed down onto the table, almost cracking it. Adira looked up to see the Council member who Havers had addressed earlier, a large man with shoulderlength brown hair, staring at her, hate in his eyes. “How can our families live with nothing to sustain them? If we are uprooted from the valley, and if we ourselves are killed, then they will be homeless and without any continual source of nurishment!” “But they would have freedom, and a legacy of freedom for which to strive.” Havers answered levelly. “This is our decision, and our's alone. We will choose this day whom we will serve, whether the Desert King, or our conscience. Choose wisely.” He looked at the Minotaur. “Councilman Duraudth, how do you vote?” “Aye.” “Councilman Labersmith, how do you vote?” A middle aged, slightly pudgy Councilman to Haver's right shook his head. “I vote nae.” “Councilwoman Dalithna, how do you vote?” The woman smiled at Adira. “I vote aye.” “Councilman Strauhn, how do you vote?” “Nae.” The large Councilman said, his eyes on Adira. Havers paused. “I vote aye. Councilman Adelwight, how do you vote?” The goat-herder Councilman hesitated. Fear gripped Adira's heart as she thought of the consequenses of his vote. With Mardil not present, he is the deciding vote. He could tie it, or swing it in our favor. And he did express his opposition near the beginning, though it's possible he could have cghanged his mind... “Councilman Adelwight, how do you vote?” Adelwight paused, glancing around the table. All eyes were on him. Adira held her breath. He gulped. “I, Councilman Adelwight of Estolad vote... Aye.” Adira let out her breath. The vote had made it. She was now the lawful ruler of Estolad. Suddenly she found all of the Council's eyes on her, some full of joy, other uncertainty, other hate. She swallowed, wondering where her voice had gone. “Um... our first coarse of action will be to send the non-comabtants over the mountains to the Nestlands. Then we shall meet again to for a Council of War.” She turned to Havers. He nodded, and smiled broadly at her. “The Council is dismissed.” To be continued... The build. This was just a quick build, only about 24x24 studs. It was mostly for story, but I hope the build is worthy enough. __________________________________________ I would like to claim UoP credit for: Trade and Law: Governing Body. Wall Techniques: SNOTed tile stonework. Soli Deo Gloria & Sola Gracia!
-
The underground base of the Southern Dwarves in the Kaliphlin Rakath Mountains... This young dwarf reflects on how much his life has changed since the war started. Before the war started and the Southern Dwarves declared their support for the Desert King life was very different. Back then the dwarves focused more on the arts and craftsmanship, but these days sculpting and carving are not considered a priority and have been put aside in order to make more room for weapons and supplies for the war. Nowadays inventors only job is to create weapons of war... and the alchemists brew deadly concoctions designed corrode or explode The forges are lit day and night as dwarves workers build weapons to arm the Desert king's forces. and now the young dwarf must grow up from a kid to a man as he prepares to go to war and fight for his King... Extra pics: The desk A shelf C&C appreciated. I am still not to happy with some of the pictures, but they are all WAY better than before
-
Over thirty years ago a Leander woman had fallen in love with an Avalonian Elf. They were married and had a son. The other elves disapproved of the marriage and looked on the baby with scorn. When the baby was still a child, the father met an untimely end in the Mystic Isles. A few months later the mother died of grief, having been cast out of society after her husband died. She was buried in a pauper’s grave with nothing but a small bouquet of scarlet magnolias to mark her resting. The child was taken in by a peasant family and raised as one of their own. They were kind, but the child still felt the cruelty of the Avalonians around him who did not approve of his parent’s union. This child was Charlemagne. When he was old enough to travel on his own, Charlemagne left Avalonia and headed for Kaliphlin. He ended up in Budd-apest without a penny in his pocket. The monks of the Red Guard took him in and gave him a home in their compound. He grew up learning chivalry and how to fight from the knights of the Red Guard and he learned to love the God of The Way from the monks. During all these years he learned to forgive the elves of Avalonia who had treated he and his family so poorly. He had moved on and had built a new life for himself and in so doing he removed himself from both Elvish and Leander cultures. He wanted nothing to do with either of them. When reports started coming in of the coming war, Charlemagne assumed he would remain uninvolved. He heard about the unrest within the High Council, of the rise of the Desert King, and of the strange Ulandians. When reports came through Budd-apest about how the First Centurion kept Leanders as slaves, servants, and warriors, Charlemagne tried to ignore them. “What does that have to do with me?” He would ask himself. But each night as war drew ever closer Charlemagne could not get the thought of his people being subjugated by the cruel Ulandians. He talked about his concerns with one of the monks who had been his friend for many years. “Methuselah, I have had nothing to do with the Leanders since my mother died, why would I trouble myself about the fate of one group of them now?” Charlemagne asked. “Perhaps you were born for a greater purpose than you think” Methuselah replied. “Maybe you are supposed to free those of your people who are in bondage.” “I know how to fight, and I know how to behave at dinner parties, but how does that help me do anything to help the Leanders of Ulandus?” Charlemagne continued, “I would have to take on the entire empire!” “There is an ancient proverb that says, ‘The most impressive stain glass window can still be broken by a single stone.’” Methuselah stated. “Be that stone.” Charlemagne still wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t stop thinking about his brothers and sisters in Ulandus. He had started to change and hadn’t even realized it and his actions started to show the change. He went to the Masketeers and asked them for a rapier because he needed a less conspicuous weapon. He began to gather information about Ulandus and the First Centurion. He followed the unrest in the High Council at the death of Flagg. He listened as the Sultan of Budd-apest asked the Masketeers and then the Red Guard to fight on behalf of the city if the Desert King called on them. He then asked to see the Sultan himself. “I’d like to be involved in the war” began Charlemagne. “That’s a little preemptive since the Desert King hasn’t officially declared war, but I appreciate your desire to serve” answered the Sultan. “The Red Guard has had only good things to say about you. I know you will bring honor to the city.” The next day the emissaries from the Desert King showed up and Charlemagne took his place alongside the Red Guard outside the city gates. After the skirmish against the attacking army, the Sultan asked Charlemagne to go on a mission to the Dune Sea. After he returned from the Dune Sea, Charlemagne found himself back in the library reflecting on how far he had come since his mother’s death in Avalonia. He thought about his mother’s unassuming grave, his new life in Kaliphlin, the words of Methuselah, and the suffering Leanders in Ulandus. He had fought on behalf of the Desert King, but he knew now that he needed to do more. He made up his mind at that point that he would go to Ulandus and would do everything he could to be that stone that broke the window. Charlemagne knew he couldn’t just walk into Ulandus so he devised a plan to go as a supposed emissary from Budd-apest, seeking to change the city’s alliance with the Desert King to Ulandus. Once he got into the country he would then stage his attacks and claim they were the work of a terrorist known as the Scarlett Magnolia. In this way he would protect his identity and with some irony, honor his mother. There was no denying it, war had changed Charlemagne. OoC: This will make much more sense if you read my minichallenge entry as well as my Cat. B entry. Lots more pictures on my flickr!
-
The half-Leander Charlemagne, a soldier for the Desert King, began his soldier’s journey in Budd-apest. He was born in Avalonia, but after his father and mother died, moved to Kaliphlin and took up residence among the Red Guard of Budd-apest. There he learned the basics of chivalry and fighting. As the certainty of war grew, Charlemagne started preparing. He first went to the Red Guard’s rivals, the Masketeers for a sword. The Masketeers favored the rapier and Charlemagne thought he might be better equipped for the coming battles by having a lighter, quicker blade than the Red Guard were want to use. As the war began, he took on the name of the Scarlet Magnolia to honor the memory of his mother. He became more and more determined to help his fellow countrymen, enslaved in Ulandus. He hired the services of Uriako who was able to sail him through the Serpant’s Crawl to Ulandus. Once he arrived he was able to enter Ulandian society by posing as an ambassador from Budd-apest to Ulandus. He claimed the city wanted to be free of the Desert King’s clutches. This caused him to be well received in high Ulandian society. He was able to use this as a cover for his true purpose, the liberty of the Leanders. He began by providing bread to the starving Leanders. When war began, resources grew scarce on Ulandus. What resources there were never found their way to Leanders who were more slaves than citizens. His next mission was to help free some of the key, Leander leaders who had been imprisoned for talking against the government. The Scarlet Magnolia had struck again! The city was abuzz with the talk of the Scarlet Magnolia, high society included. As Charlemagne talked to the other Ulandians they asked him, “Who could this Scarlet Magnolia be?” Charlemagne responded with, “Whoever he is, he’s making life nearly impossible for all of us who aren’t Ulandian! I can’t go anywhere without being quizzed on my identity for fear that I may be the Scarlet Magnolia. In fact, I’ve written a poem for the occasion, They seek him here, they seek him there. The Ulandians seek him everywhere. Is he from Mitgardia, or is he from Avalonia? That darned, elusive, Scarlet Magnolia.” He continued his subversive activities and continued to help Leanders throughout Ulandus. He was a soldier for the Desert King, but a secret one. After a couple weeks he heard about the orders of execution for some of the Leanders he had personally helped as the Scarlet Magnolia. It seemed that the Ulandians where trying to flush him out. He took the bait and went to the wilderness where the Leanders where sentenced to die. He found them guarded, chained to rocks, and waiting for their death. Charlemagne didn’t know how they were going to be killed, but he knew he needed to save them. He charged the guards, and made it through their defenses to race to the prisoners to break their chains. As he ran he saw a large shadow pass overhead. He freed the first Leander and shouted at him to dive to the ground. Charlemagne heard a commotion behind him, but he focused on freeing the Leander’s first. All of a sudden, two more beasts landed, and Charlemagne saw that the beasts were wyverns. All three prisoners were now free and laying still on the ground. Charlemagne looked around and saw that all the Ulandian guards had been consumed. The wyverns seemed pacified for now. He urged the Leanders up and one of them said to him, “Please, I’ve worked with dragons for my whole life. These are a loyal breed. It is most likely that they see you as having fed them. They can be ridden if they are willing to take you, and I can think of no better way to get out of here!” Charlemagne trusted the Leander and approached one of the wyverns. The wyvern were seemingly passive now that their bellies were full and Charlemagne was able to mount it easily. The other Leanders mounted up as well and they flew off to safety. Charlemagne continued to harass the Ulandian army, using the wyvern whose trust he had earned all the while furthering the Desert King’s cause. OoC: This will make much more sense if you read my minichallenge entry as well as my Cat. A entry. Lots more pictures on my flickr!
-
The stuff hurled itself against the rocks in waves of foam, dashing its spray into the air and giving off its ghastly, horrifying sound. I stared at it in horror –the stuff was before me, rolling out in sheets as far as the eye could see. Turning, I ran to my father with a cry in my throat which my mummified tongue refused to utter. The awful roar of the rollers deafened me, they seemed to be overwhelming me, I was sinking, sinking into that eternal abyss of- “Historica to Dave!” roared the commander of my regiment, “You can get in now.” “Sir!” I replied, shaking myself out of the awful trance and gazing at the frail craft to which he pointed. “Um, sir? Do you think I can get in that thing sir?” He only smiled and nodded. “Uh, sir, are you sure it’s safe?” Another smile and nod. “Well, sir, I’m not sure I…” “Dave!” “Ok sir, your call. Uh, you can’t say I didn’t warn you!” I stepped cautiously into the little reed boat, which began to rock quite dangerously. My companion was shoved in by the commander and the rocking increased. I closed my eyes and shuddered. The commander gave the order to shove off… and then went and shoved everyone off himself since nobody actually wanted to paddle around in those things. Oh the horror! Paddling those things around would have been enough to drive any sensible mummy insane! However, the worst part by far was when we approached our destination. We were all looking forward to having our feet on dry land again and leaving those detestable crafts floating in the- the unnamable thing! But things just continued on their downward course - as things tend to do when once poorly started - and on nearing the docks we saw that the enemies were quite ready for us. We prepared for the fight when they took those horrible pikes they were wielding and started poking holes in our frail boats! The un-nameable thing began to flow rapidly into the craft, and as I leapt back in horror I saw that the boat in front of us was already half submerged while the remaining mummy desperately attempted to bail. How I survived that dreadful day is more than I can recite. When I finally came to myself the mad camp surgeon was trying to get me to drink. What!? I grabbed the bottle out of his hand, broke it over his head, and glared at him. “What in the world do you mean by that!?” I thundered at him. “You are better I assume?” he responded smiling weakly. “I should suppose so, no thanks to you!” I retorted, taking my most respectful leave of the doctor. “Ah, Dave, good to see you still in the land of the not-drowned!” exclaimed my commander when he saw me. “Well, well, I don’t think there is much fear of that in this work. It appears they have just finished undermining the walls, so you can go ahead with the invading force if you like. Or even if you don’t, for it really doesn’t much matter.” He winked. It was a bit disconcerting, but I went ahead and, gathering together my weapons, headed down with the main force of the army. It took some time for my eyes to adjust to the darkness and it was tricky work to avoid capsizing the supports and knocking down the tunnel on top of one’s self, but somehow we kept advancing until we were nearly under the walls. Suddenly I ran into the soldier in front of me. Then the soldier behind me ran into me. A hoarse and gurgling cry rang out in the darkness. With one action we turned and rushed out of the tunnel, but it was too late. One second later the thing had swept me off my feet and was dashing me with tremendous force into the rest of my companions. Two more second of unutterable agony and I flashed out of the tunnel into the open air… and landed somewhere in the middle of next week. I was dreaming a wonderful dream of a treehouse up in a palm tree somewhere very, very far away from that horrible tunnel, a place from which I could laugh at all the armies in Kaliphlin, when my commander rudely called me back to myself. “Uh, Dave?” queried my commander. “Nothing wrong I hope.” He was dashing cold water on my face. “What are you thinking!” I roared. “Do you all know nothing of how to heal a mummy without using that! That is it! No more army life! I never want to hear or see that thing ever again!” I hastily gathered up my belongings and began to march away double quick. “Dave!?” shouted my commander, “one last thing. I was just going to tell you that it is about to start raining.” Challenge IV done at last! Thanks for viewing, C&C are welcome!
-
The Desert King had sent in his reserve troops to attack Xersia, but that didn't mean they were the weakest. These mummies were highly trained in city combat. They were also armed with a special weapon from the Desert King himself, said to be able to penetrate any magical protection guarding the First Centurian's objects of power. When the mummies jumped through the portal, they found themselves immediately next to the first object. The Ulandians were quick to react, but the Desert King's mummies were even quicker at destroying the object of power.
-
My entry for WarZone 18. The mummies wanted to get in the eastern guardian tower, but they had no battering ram to break the door down with... So they used the next best thing; a sarcophagus! As the mummies were about to start battering the door in, Aymeri and his men showed up and ambushed them on both sides: More pictures can be seen here: Link C&C welcome
-
*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.
-
[This build is for the Desert King] The Desert King supporters celebrate their victory at a temple in Qarkyr and wave the flag of the rightful ruler of Kaliphlin. Participants on both sides of the urban battle credited the Desert King's victory to the agents he inflitrated into the city. These capable saboteurs provided leadership during critical moments, and oversaw the partisan victory from the shadows and so instilled in the people a greater sense of their own triumph. And the whole moc, without figs: ----------------------------------------- Hello again! This is my WZ14 build and right at the last minute, again! I hope it is ok to update this entry in the morning with a bit more story and a couple of photos of the fighting near this temple. Due to events IRL, I only had last night and today to throw this together (and often only by candlelight, thanks to power outages caused by storms). I have more of a story in mind, but I'm so tired and mentally worn that it probably wouldn't make much sense at this point. Anyways, I really enjoyed this build, and it's my first pagoda. There's a few things I'd like to do with it given more time, so I'm sure you'll see some more of these Asian style buildings from me. Thanks for looking, feedback always appreciated!
-
The people of Ulandus were starving. Their leaders had tied up all their resources in the way against the Desert King and the High Council. The result of this was that commoners were without even the most basic of necessities, like bread. A mysterious stranger appeared in the streets one day handing out bread to all who needed it. No one knew his identity, but when the guards came to try to arrest him, all they found was a bunch of scarlet magnolias. This led the people to call him The Scarlet Magnolia, and he became a symbol of freedom amongst the oppressed peoples of Ulandus. OoC: If you've ever seen The Scarlet Pimpernel, then you'll know my source material. Otherwise this will probably seem pretty random to you. If you are into witty, older dramas, I recommend the movie to you. I haven't read the book so I don't know whether I can recommend it or not.
-
As Xersia (some random city that was apparently attacked by the DK) burns and falls to the Desert King forces some of the Ulandian officers and wealthy citizens try to escape by sea, leaving behind their allies in a mad rush to esape to the next square. Unfortunately for them the Desert King had been expecting this and ships were stationed outside of the harbor to hunt down the fleeing Ulandians. Also the water shifts from dark to light but its hard to see There is also kind of a street system in the city( light bley= roads) but Its only really visible in a birds eye view C and C appreciated EDIT: I guess this has to be moved so now it will be at M18, not O18
-
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?
-
The setting sun blanketed the landscape in warm colors, making the ground appear to have twice as many colors as it did. Towering above the hills around it, a gatehouse stood solidly, it's ancient walls still standing firmly on the crest of a hill, high up in the Rakath mountains. Beneath it, clustered within a small vale, sat the small village of Estolad, the traditional holding of the Navabi family. Adira strode down the path leading to the gate of the castle, lost in thought. Beside her walked Mardil, a retired esquire to the house of Navabi, and keeper of the family Histories and Genealogies. Adira glanced at him, taking in his gray beard, his trim, healthy body, and his firm gray eyes. He walked purposefully, with the measured step of one who has been to both King's courts and pitched battles. He held his head high, as one who has nothing to be ashamed of, but one who was equally ready to give his respect to others, as long as they respected him. Adira turned toward him, and he stopped, his eyes focusing on hers. Adira paused, slightly uncomfortable under his piercing gaze. “So, I assume there is a reason you sent for me to aid you, instead of someone you had more ties to? I don't believe I have ever met you before...” She trailed off, unsure of what to say next. “Ah, but I have heard of you, even if we have not met.” The Historian said. “You are one of the few effective High Council Guerrillas known to me, and when I learned of the Desert King's plans to remove the Histories under my keeping to their capital, you were the first person I thought of. Does that explain things?” Adira wasn't quite convinced. “But if you wished merely for High Council protection, why did you not send to Berigora, or some other, nearer, High Council outpost? I was weeks away from you, while soldiers from Berigora could have arrived in half that time.” Mardil stared past Adira, lost in thought. Suddenly he turned and started walking down the path again, away from where Adira's troops were, along with the captured Desert King soldiers. Adira fell in next to him, and for a while there was silence. Finally Mardil looked up again, his eyes thoughtful. “I have decided to tell you something, something I vowed never to tell you, but that I can not in good conscience keep from you, especially with you in the midst of such a war.” Adira's palms began to sweat, and she stared at the older man's face. Apparently he knows more about me then I thought, she thought. Perhaps he can even tell me why my father was targeted... He turned, and his eyes were sad. “I called you here because you are the only remaining member of the Navabi family that supports the High Council.” Adira stood rooted to the ground, her mind reeling. I am a Navabi? That's who my true parents were? So that is why My adopted father would not tell me who my parents were! The Navabi House is one of the most ardent Desert King supporters of all the houses of Kaliphlin! Except for that one Ulandian raider, and myself, there is not a single Navabi known to be anti-Desert King. Adira hardly knew what to say. “How... how did you know?” “Simple, I was the one who gave you to Magdeburg. Or his deceased wife, to be exact.” Mardil, paused, as if unsure if he should continue. “You see, your parents were not interested in any female progeny, and they already had three heirs, so when I offered to “do away” with you, they didn't ask questions. Thus you came into Magdeburg's household.” Adira tried to take it all in. “So it was just luck that I came to the Magdeburgs?” “I have lived more then half a century in these lands of Historica, Adira, and I have yet to encountered such a thing as 'Luck'.” Mardil said. Adira didn't bother with a rebuttal. “So, how does this effect me?” “How does it effect you?” Mardil smiled widely. “You are now the rightful heir to the village of Estolad, as far as the elders, myself included, are concerned.” He turned, gesturing toward the castle. “This is the Navabi castle, and that,” he moved his hand in a general sweep toward the village, “is the holdings of the Navabi family, which have now come to you, under the direct decision of the Council of Elders, with general support from the inhabitants of the village.” Adira stared at the castle, her mind still trying to comprehend what she had heard. I am the Lord, or Lady, of a village! Granted, a small village in the middle of the Rakath mountains, but still... I wonder how my relatives will take this... Adira glanced at the smiling Mardil. “My parents won't like it, or my siblings.” “They are powerless without the support of the people, or without some external force,” the Historian answered confidentially. “And why would the Desert King bother sending a force here, when he has so many other things to worry about?” “I'm sure that, being out of the way, you are not as informed, but if you haven't noticed the Desert King is winning this war, despite anything we can do to stop him. If the rumors are true, then he has even conquered the capital of Ulandus! It is only a matter of time before he will be at the very gates of Eastgate, Barqa, Berigora... He has already taken Queenscross, and is fighting for Petrea. It will only be a matter of time before he will destroy us!” Adira didn't mean to say it that vehemently, but it only reflected the bitterness in her heart. Mardil's face grew serious, and his posture more stiff. “The Council would not have decided on this, if it were not for good reason.” He turned to Adira, and for a moment she thought she saw a glimmer of tears in his eyes. “I... I have seen what the Desert King does to 'insurgents' and 'law-breakers', especially when the executors of justice are people like your parents and siblings. Believe me, we of this village do not want our children growing up under such tyranny!” Adira nodded slowly. “So you are ready to endure any hardships that such a rebellion would entail? The destruction of war, starvation, death of loved ones?” She searched his face for any sign of hesitation, of unnerve. The Historian raised his chin, his jaw set. “We knew what we would have to face. We are not about to back down. There may be some still loyal to the Desert King*, but the rest of us will fight to the death for the sake of our liberty, and our children's liberty.” Adira paused. They can not know what they are getting into, all the suffering that will come upon them by their decision... but would it make a difference if I abandoned them? No, if the look on this man's face is any indicator, then they will not back down, whether I help them or not. Adira nodded. “Then I will help you, as best as I may.” A smile of pure joy spread across the older man's face. “I Can not thank you enough. The village can not thank you enough. I shall inform the elders immediately, and then we shall gather all able bodied men immediately!” Adira shook her head. “No. We can not defend this village in our present state. I must first go to Berigora and gather a sufficient force to defend this place, along with weapons for those of the villagers who wish to fight. You must lay low for a few a week, or several weeks, until I can get back. While I am gone, determine who is on your side, and who is not, and start stashing food away in this fortress, for the defenders, and in the hills, for the non-combatants*. I shall get back as soon as I am able.” Mardil looked slightly disappointed, but he nodded. “Bring back as many weapons as you can, and as much food as possible as well. I shall inform the village elders.” With that he turned and started off at a brick trot toward the road leading to the village. Adira frowned. Who do these people think I am? I am only human. The Desert King, on the other hand... But I can not leave them to their fate. If this is to end in blood, then we shall all bleed together! To be continued... The build. This is one of my larger (good) builds, about 48x48, as I really wanted to secure this one spot for future story. *notes: I would appreciate if anyone countering this would not do anything with my characters (Adira and her Guerrillas, and please don't kill off Mardil), so I included these to note possible ideas for counters. “Anyone with ears{/eyes}, let them hear!” The interior. I know the doors protrude a bit much, but it was the best I could do, seeing as they are plumb up against the inner workings of the round tower (see this: https://www.flickr.com/photos/112401269@N03/13682466383/in/dateposted/, and this: https://www.flickr.com/photos/112401269@N03/13707179664/in/photostream/, to get the basic jist of how I did it, though it was tougher since it was a smaller size). Hope the doors don't mar the results too much. Anyhow, hope you enjoyed the build, and if you didn't read the story, go and do it now, since it is definitely better then the build. Soli Deo Gloria & Sola Gracia!
-
This is a counter to Scarst's GAon C3 It seems one of the troublemakers who has been insnaring Desert King troops has become caught in one of his own traps. His loud shouting attracted the attention of some of the elves that live in these woods, elves that are fiercly territorial and aggressive towards intruders... Heres a shot of the elves by themselves This build was heavily inspired by Kayne's The Withered Woods C & C appreciated
-
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).
-
(POV Amir Navabi) After traveling to the Ulandian Camp outside Petraea, I had been ordered to raid Desert King territory. The Northmen, like the mercenaries they were, refused to raid with us. They had agreed to help the siege of Petraea, nothing more, nothing less. But I was ready to serve my allies. We had found a Desert King Coal mine.....and we intended to destroy it. The Desert King's war machine ran on coal, and needed mines like this. The Desert King might well be able to rouse untold numbers.........but no matter how many soldiers, they needed swords. And swords required fires. Hot fires. After defeating the only warrior among them, I faced him down, but there was something familiar about him.......... "Amir!" He exclaimed. "Brother!" "Aram.....You support the Desert King?" "Indeed, Brother, and loyally so. Like my parents." Then the Lieutenant called out I turned my back- as my brother attempted treachery. I twirled around, and in so doing, cut off my brother's hand. He cried out in pain, and fell, having failed in his treachery. We set fire to the shaft, and within minutes, it would be no more. As the building fell apart. I was ready to leave.....then I heard a sound. I was moaning......my brother's moaning. "What are you doing?" The Lieutenant asked, incredulously. I moved his body away from death, and wrapped his wound. I had honor, where my brother had none. For the Praise of His Glory! ~Andrew
-
"Join the Royal Survey Corp they said. See all of Historica they said! All I've seen over the past month is sand and salt flats!!! Mom was right, I should've been an embalmer." Wish to make the following UoP claim: +1 Geography Deserts
-
The Nestlands are very well known for their rocks and vegetation, making it hard to live for its inhabitants. As it is an isolated area, their habits are a bit different than most other people in Kaliphlin. For example they worship birds... The area itself is very dangerous as you never know what way to reach one of the clans is safe. So the heavy equipped knights of Stedor layed down an ambush together with a local Nesltands Clan-member (fleshie, as requested by Gedren). A group of Desert King Warriors are patrolling the area, not aware of what is behind the rocks... For the Republic!! For Stedor!! C&C ofcourse welcome!!
-
Salah ad-Din felt honored when he was chosen to represent the Desert King alongside other warriors at the Lonely Mountain Rumble. Growing up in the nearby town of Dompei-un'Erezhi, he longed to return and show off his status as a warrior in the Desert King's army. For ad-Din, the Desert King had been a savior. He had squandered his youth as a brawler and simple laborer, hardly able to provide for his wife and two children. When they were killed by the volcanic explosion, he vowed to find a purpose in his life. He blamed Ulandus for the Great Disturbance, and the High Council for its vacillation in the days after. Ad-Din saw the Desert King as the only legitimate choice, not just for vengeance but also to return Kaliphlin to its days of glory. His strength became famous among the ranks of the Desert King, and it was no surprise when his name was announced to attend the Lonely Mountain Rumble. At this feat of strength, ad-Din is determined to demonstrate what mighty power lies in all who worship the Desert King.
-
Warzone 14: The Battle For Qarkyr (or The Battle of the Partisans) Location: F14 Who Can Participate: Ulandus and Desert King (Unless HC wins Warzone 13) Terrain: Qarkyr, the gateway to the Rakath, the Eastern Emerald, The Protector of the Ocean Gate, and former Capital of the short lived Dwarven Empire of Varnforge, is the fourth largest city in Kaliphlin after Petraea, Barqa and Queenscross. It sits in the Rakath Moutains, within the Qar-Akhen River Valley. A wall stretches across the valley to stop movement East and West without paying the tolls at Qarkyr first. Long a defensive position, the city has magnificent walls. The architecture is a mixture of Eastern Kaliphlin, and Far Eastern Kaliphlin, the two cultures merged along the most common pathway through the Rakath Mountains that separated them. The Far Eastern Kaliphlin architecture relies heavily on pagodas, hip and gable roofing, enclosures within large buildings, and wood is the main building material. The classic Kaliphlin architecture of East Kaliphlin (the land between the escarpment and the Rakath Mountains) is also prevalent here with domes, arches, towers, stone and mud buildings. The town is somewhat divided between the two cultures, with “The Ocean District” representing a large concentration of people of Far Eastern culture, and the much larger “Trader’s Quarter” which is distinctly Eastern Kaliphlin traders, mostly from Petraea. The rest of the city is pretty much equally divided. There is not a water shortage in the city, and it is famous for its lush gardens and parks throughout the city. History: Despite having a great wall to funnel in all travelers east and west, Qarkyr is as porous as a net. The corruption within its walls is ancient, dating back to when the Dwarven King Archbeard claimed the city as his own a thousand years ago. It was under his rule that the modern blueprint for Qaekyr’s orderly streets and plazas was laid down. The city’s walls were built first by the dwarf engineers, and they have never been penetrated since. Unfortunately, the trader section of the city, humans who had sworn allegiance to Archbeard, made the walls unnecessary. Archbeard’s nemesis, the Sea Goddess Calif – or at least someone claiming to be her – had a mighty eastern seaborne empire growing on the Eastern coast of Kaliphlin. She wanted the Qar-Akhen River valley as a gateway into greater Kaliphlin in order to continue her conquest. When her armies came to the walls of the city, her spies found easy access by bribing the merchants. They betrayed their new king, and he was murdered in his bed by assassins. Calif’s army slipped in soon after and took the dwarves by surprise. They fought to the last man, and not one dwarf survived that night. Calif rewarded the traders by giving them a quarter of the city – the same quarter known as “The Trader’s Quarter” today. However, Calif would not go on to take over the middle of Kaliphlin, as she too was betrayed. One of her new supporters, a trader named Mors’Qo brought her an emerald from one of the nearby mines within the Rakath Mountains. It was the largest emerald anyone in the region had ever seen. It was placed in a necklace for her, but when she put it on she was instantly transformed into a emerald statue. Mors’Qo had bought the enchanted emerald from a dwarf and had intended to kill the Sea Goddess to avenge Archbeard. His plan worked but her supporters through him into the deepest well they could find and sealed it. Her army was stopped, and many settled in Qarkyr, creating a bicultural dynamic that exists today. More recently treachery has played a part in Qarkyr’s history. It has only recently become known how the mighty city fell into the hands of the Desert King early in the Civil War. Its representative to the High Council, Ageven Deraim, Lord of Auner, is a staunch supporter of Ulandus. Likely many of the Far Eastern Kaliphlinites living in the city would have supported their representatives loyalties, but the Traders took quick action at the beginning of the war. Ageven had been preparing defenses back in Auner, when the trade faction opened the gates for a small Desert King force led by Regi Bar’nol. Regi became Lord of the city, and by the time Ageven made it back, there was nothing he could do with his small force against the mighty walls of Qarkyr. Mini-challenge: Ageven and Ulandus were not going to give up the city without a fight. The porous walls would help them as well. He began by bribing Desert King supporters to let his spies within the walls of the city. His spies made contact with the Ocean District, and began to put together a strike force. Soon hundreds of fighters had been smuggled into the city, and finally Lord Regi had caught on. The war in the streets had begun. The challenge here is to build a scene where the two cultures collide – in fighting and in scenery. MOCs should show both types of cultures within the city, as these battles are all happening between the walls of Qarkyr. MOCs should also show the distinctly different peoples of both sides brawling in some manner. There are very few regular troops in this battle – perhaps just commanders and a few footmen. Once side should be winning clearly in your depiction. Supporters of DK should be depicting the rich traders of East Kaliphlin as their allies, while Ulandians have the Far Eastern Kaliphlinites as their allies in this battle. Story and Challenge Addendum if HC wins Warzone 13: Now with Aymeri’s breakout complete, the HC forces have turned their sights on Qarkyr. Knowing that they cannot get their army into the city in masse, Aymeri turned to the tried tactic of bribery to get some of his men into the city. Being the latecomer to the battle, it was easy to see the people most neglected in this war of neighborhoods were the poor and underclasses. The High Council spies noticed something interesting about the lower masses, they had started to pick up on the High Council rhetoric “Viva la Republic!” Although this chant was created by the more privileged lords of Kaliphlin, it has become the chant of the masses. High Councilor Aymeri saw this as an opportunity, albeit dangerous in a time of lords and kings, he would give these people democracy, and thus bring them into the High Council fold – after all, his advisor noted, it works in Queenscross. The High council builders in this challenge take the rabble as their soldiers. They should depict a similar scene as the mini-challenge details, their MOC should show both cultures, but also show the poor High Council supporters doing battle with one or both of the other factions. Special Category: Best Urban Trap! Although builders do not have to create a MOC that has a specific “trap” in it, the MOCer with the best trap will win the title “Trickster of Qarkyr” The trap should be evident just by looking at the MOC, but the story can definitely help explain it. Restrictions: 32x32, with limited overhang. Due Date: May 10th Special Consequences: If High Council Wins WZ 13 and WZ 14, they achieve “March to the Sea” Victory condition, where they are awarded Zone F15 and G15. If Ulandus Wins, they secure G14 as well. If Desert King wins, they secure G13, as Ulandus has overstepped in its attack on Qarkyr, and the counter attack was brutal enough that they lost a zone. -
The liberation of Petraea would long be remembered in the historical annals of Kaliphlin. The High Council was the first to violate the capital's neutrality, occupying the city in an attempt to secure its support in the Civil War. As the war raged on, the occupying troops were siphoned off for High Council campaigns in other regions of Kaliphlin. Desert King spies embedded in the city watched closely as the city guard dwindled in number, and informed their masters of the city's growing weakness. They also fomented revolt among the city populace, which wasn't difficult as residents resented their forced involvement in the war. Civil unrest raged in protest of draft orders mandated against the city's male population. Insurrection hit a boiling point after the city's granaries were earmarked by the High Council for its military campaigns. The Desert King's spies knew there would be no better time to strike the city. One quiet evening, the soldiers guarding the city's main gate were bribed into taking an early break. Several sympathetic residents raised the great gate, allowing a large Desert King contingent waiting secretly nearby to enter the city unopposed. By the time the city guard knew the city had been infiltrated, it was far too late. The High Council troops fought with distinction but stood little chance against the numerically superior and seasoned Desert King soldiers. The High Council received no support from the city's residents, who locked their doors to the fleeing soldiers and pointed out High Council strongpoints to the Desert king liberators. When the sun rose the next morning every district of Petraea was under the Desert King's control. Recognizing the city's desire for normalcy, Desert King commanders ordered cart loads of food to be distributed to city residents. Residents who had been forced into the High Council army were released and returned to their families. Damage to the city during the battle had fortunately been light, but Desert King soldiers were quick to help clean the streets and repair people's homes. The battle was declared one of the Desert King's greatest victories, but his commanders knew this action would not be the last conflict Petraea would see in the war. The city had to be held against a High Council counterattack, and there was no doubt that the Ulandians also had their eyes set on the capital. But the Desert King's army had won the hearts and minds of the Petraea's population, and, unlike the High Council, the new occupiers bolstered the city's defenses. With the Desert King in control, Petraea would not fall again. In fact, the city would eventually see a new era of prosperity and serve faithfully as an ally to the Desert King. Desert King troops capture Petraea's administrative district from the High Council: Some close ups of the fighting: A member of the High Council occupational government watches from high up as the Desert King forces capture the city: A soldier waves the Desert King's flag from one of the city's government buildings, signaling the city had been captured: Desert King soldiers hand out food to Petraea residents, while others clean debris and repair damage caused during the fighting: ---------------------------------- Hello again! This is my entry for the WZ10 minichallenge which takes place in Petraea. A very early entry considering the June 1 deadline, but you guys have no idea how glad I am to be finished with this one. I've been working on it very slowly for the past month and a half, mostly because I had to keep stealing parts to use in other civil war builds. Now that you've seen it, I can finally tear it apart for good and use the parts without feeling bad! Anyways, I've been wanting to build a large Kaliphlin urban scene ever since seeing Gideon's wonderful Streets of Barqa MOC, and obviously he is a lot of inspiration behind mine. I tried to stick closely to Ska's description of the city, with the tall buildings and lushness that characterize the city. I might have gone overboard I suppose with the greenery, but I really liked the idea of a major urban center filled with vegetation. Also, I haven't yet chosen a next WZ for this build since whatever I pick may be obsolete by the time the June 1 deadline rolls around. I'll update this post once we get closer to then. I also want to note that I'm as stumped as you may be over why the tan bricks do not have the same hue in the photos I took. I used the same lights and general light direction, so I'm not sure why some of the tan came out more vivid in some pictures than others. Well, thanks for looking and I hope you enjoy! Feedback always appreciated!
-
The Wither Woods are a stunning sight; miles and miles of exotically colored trees; a place of great beauty and tranquility that is renowned as one of the wonders of Kaliphalin. Today, however, that tranquility is utterly shattered, as fierce screeches and harsh clangs echo throughout the forest. These sounds originate from a spot deep in the forest, in the territory of the Cresentthorn Elves, in the center of an ancient grove of trees. This is the Cresentthorn elves' ancient fighting arena, used for centuries to resolve conflicts in the forest. The elves fight here so often that the trees have become reliant on the steady supply of blood that seeps into the ground. This unusual diet has a strange affect on the trees, causing their leaves to change color, causing them to be known as blood oaks. Today a duel takes place between two female elves, one fighting for the High Council, another for the Desert King. Both elves fight fiercely, fighting on the same ground as their ancestors. A official watches from the side The fight rages back an forth, with neither elf able to gain the upper hand However the Desert King elf eventually takes the upper hand and defeats her opponent, watering the tree with fresh blood.
