Search the Community
Showing results for tags 'Free-build'.
-
Down in a tunnel along the road from Queenscross to Cedrica a couple of Ulandians are digging and hacking away at the dirt and loose rocks. Above them extends a short barricade across the narrow road. On the other side of the barricade their High Council taskmasters lounge, cracking jokes with each other and carrying along generally. Now and then they call to the Ulandians to make sure they're still around, but they don't seem worried about keeping a close eye upon the digging procedure. In fact, the Ulandians have made quite some progress. The barricade is already high enough for it to be very inconvenient for the High Councilers to see over, and the "slaves" have started digging a short tunnel under the rest of the road. "I hate to say this," one remarked to the other, resting on his shovel for a second, "but these High Council guys are really... naive!" "I know, right!? I mean like, for one thing, we gave in really easy. In fact you gave up so easily I thought they would be crazy suspicious right from the start. But nothing. And then, building a barricade right here? Where it would take, oh, I don't know, maybe ten seconds to walk around it?" "Yeah! And then, I kind of thought these guys had grown up around here. They should know the location well enough. But I guess they've been imported from the Arkbri. Anyways, really, putting us right next to an oil pool..." "Yep. This is gonna be good!" The two "slaves" labored in silence for a few minutes. Presently a rich black substance began to ooze through the dirt surrounding them. One winked to the other. "You ready? You should probably back out." He picked up a couple of stones lying around, grinning. Patiently he struck them together, over and over. At last a spark flashed out and fell upon a small puddle of oil. The Ulandian promptly sprang backwards. The next second an incredible crash was heard and a bright flash of flame and smoke hurled the High Councilers, the barricade, and a good portion of the road far into the sky! The pit and explosion, figless: Link back to Gideon's build. Those cacti were so good I knew I'd have to do something really explosive to be able to come close! Comments are welcome!
-
Decided to build another opening building like my inn. But I also wanted to get some bright colors in there. Well, it sure has been a while. This was a lot of fun to build - C&C welcome as always!
-
This is my third free-build for this month, and I am Eslandian. In Bardo, Thursday is Market Day, and small farmers, fishers, and craftsmen from all around bring their wares to the Seller's Square. Come on and join in the fun! Get a hot meal... a literally hot meal, made with freshly picked chili peppers! Fresh Bardo pigs means fresh Bardo bacon... and nothing beats Bardo bacon! Something for everyone! Got carrots? Frog legs, anyone? Or be amused by this sailor's pet monkey! An overview: C&C welcome! I tried to convey the sense of a crowded market scene and while I would have liked to have a bit more time to introduce a few more unique stalls I'm pretty happy with how it ended up!
-
Detective Rhys Thomson looked around him with satisfaction as he crossed the almost empty streets of Salida Este. He nodded pleasantly to a few passersby as he opened the heavy oak door that lead into his little office. But he was thinking of what his wife always said - how he'd never get any clients by setting up a detective's office out here in the boonies. Well, he'd prove her wrong, he would! He stepped into the office. It was smallish and quite cluttered, but he remembered another saying of his wife's which she used to throw at him whenever he wondered out loud if her pampered nephew (whom they were raising) would ever amount to anything. "Tall Oaks From Little Acorns Grow!" she would retort, capitalizing every word and being very careful to exaggerate the exclamation point at the end. Thomson heard the door open behind him and he turned around quickly with a jovial smile. "Good day, sir! As my wife always says - 'Every day is a good day, if it starts in bed.' Your day started in bed, of course, I presume?" The newcomer smiled a little at the detective's quirkiness. "Yes, yes, of course. You are Detective Rhys Thomson?" "Indeed, so I am. Rhys Thomson, to serve you. What can I do for you this fine morning? - since you are out of bed, and here, I presume you have some business?" "Some business, truly. A difficult case. As you are the only detective for miles around, I have come here." "Ha!" the detective exclaimed jubilantly! "So my wife always said! 'Why, you're the only detective for miles around!' - but, you see, she thought that was a bad thing. Let's see here. You have a case, I have some time, voila! The perfect match." And the detective swiped a pile of papers off the chair and motioned his visitor to a seat. "Let us proceed to business at once," Thomson went on, straddling the scattered papers. "A case, you say. What sort of case, if I may ask?" His visitor lowered his tone mysteriously and bent forward. "A case of murder." ...To be continued! Comments are always appreciated! Thank you for looking!
-
Recently, Guy K. Wyndzon made a fairly significant outlay in scientific chemicals and instruments. Today he finally wrapped business up enough to dabble a little. After walking into the room that used to be the great hall, located in the older wing of his prestigious mansion, Guy spent some time organizing and unpacking his precious collection. At last he found what he was in search of - a crystal vial filled with a purplish goo. "Aha!" he exclaimed. Gingerly he lifted the container and then made a dash at a little glass tube that lay nearby. "A little of this, then I think, with a little of that...” Cautiously he poured the vaporous liquid from the vial into the tube. "So beautiful!" Guy held the tube up admiringly. But as he continued looking, Guy was suddenly shocked by seeing a vision of his Uncle through the purple vapor! Guy’s loud scream echoed off the high ceiling. He dropped one of the tubes and just managed to hold on to the other as he stepped backwards into the table from sheer astonishment - and perhaps from a bit of fear, too. "What have you done?!?!?" His Uncle's voice seemed to thunder through the hall. Guy was speechless. "What... what foppery have you introduced in here? With what nonsense have you ventured to desecrate this time-hallowed hall?!? What maniacal fever could have impelled you to so thoroughly forget reason as to squander such a quantity of hard-earned money?!?!" Never in his life had Guy heard his Uncle say so many words at one time! At last he recovered the use of his voice. "Not nonsense, Uncle - science!" And Guy waved his arm around grandly. His Uncle’s eloquence had been exhausted, but he still stood there like an avenging angel, his stick resting firmly and immovably on the floor, his eyebrows gathered like lightning-bolts over his frowning eyes. “Look,” Guy began, “look – see – all these wonderful chemical compounds – discoveries just begging to be made! Imagine what we could do with…” “Not interested!” “By the way, Uncle – I thought you were in Weelond.” “I was.” “Oh. Well – to go on – see, I’m at present deeply immersed in a groundbreaking research paper. I think I shall title it, ‘On the Three Shades of Gold and the Interactions Between Them, or, An Exposition of the Similarities and Differences Between the Warm, Pearl, and Chrome Shades of the Element Known as Gold.’ I’m considering adding an epilogue that details the specific effects of Aqua Regia upon each one.” Guy paused, but seeing that his Uncle did not appear inclined to make a comment, he continued, “Above – that is, on the next story – you can see the magnificent contraption that I have but just assembled; it makes electricity! Just think of what could be done with such a source of power!” Guy seemed about to begin a long eulogy, but a yawn from his Uncle made him continue to a different subject. “Then, you see, a new discovery has just been made and I long to corroborate it! According to a well-known scientist of Corrington, the legs of a frog twitch when brought into contact with certain machinery…” “Frog legs?” Guy’s Uncle interposed, suddenly interested. “Yes!” Guy exclaimed, pleased to see that his Uncle was paying some attention. “So it is said – and I have just received three crates of tropical frogs, straight from our new island, Torrach Bonn…” “Are you going to waste these expensive frogs on some silly experiment?!?” “No, no, of course not – we can eat them afterwards!” “Hum! You had better be sure not to add any strange-smelling stuff.” “Certainly not – but, by the by… what are you doing here?” “I’m here to tell you to pack.” “To tell me to pack? Whatever for?” “Your ship leaves tomorrow.” “Well? – I know that.” “And you leave with it.” “What?!” “You’re coming to the New World.” Guy stared blankly at his Uncle. “It’s all arranged. I got you a house in Bardo.” Guy’s jaw dropped. “Come on, let’s go eat those frog legs.” “Wait! – wait! I have to experiment on them first!…” Overview: This was fun to build! Inspired by Bregir's Society. And credit for the floor design goes to Jacob Nion. C&C welcome!
-
This is my fourth free-build this month, and I am Eslandian. No sooner had Guy and his Uncle landed in Bardo, than they headed off to see the new house Guy's Uncle had arranged. To say the least, it wasn't quite what Guy had expected. "What's this?" "Your new house." "What?!?" "Your new house." "You've got to be kidding me." "Well, nephew, step in!" Guy's Uncle pulled back the leaves covering the entrance. "As a house warming gift - a turkey dinner!" Guy just gaped at the opening as Elaine stepped out to welcome him. "What on earth is going on here, Aunt?" "What? - haven't you realized yet? It's April Fools!" "April Fools! I should have known. Goodness, Uncle, did you take a ship all the way back to Terreli just for an April Fools joke?!: "Never can pass up on a good one." Guy glanced at Elaine, who smiled and shrugged. "Well!" Uncle ejaculated. "Let's start up on that pie!" Later: "So... I'm ready to see my real house now." "Real house? Oh. We don't have that yet." "What?" Elaine smiled. "You're young. You can camp out." "Uh... what about you two?" "We're staying over with the mayor," Guy's Uncle replied. "Speaking of which," Elaine added, "we had better head on over. Aren't we supposed to be there for a rear supper at eight o'clock?" "Indeed! Goodbye, nephew!" "Wait! - wait! What about me?..." "Sleeping bags are behind the chimney, Guy," Elaine called out as they walked off. Another shot of the interior! Comments are appreciated as always! This was a lot of fun!
-
A few days ago, Guy K. Wyndzon received a short letter from his Uncle – much to his surprise. Although he had told his Uncle to “keep in touch,” it had never occurred to him that he would! The letter ran as follows. Guy, Since you asked me, I send a letter. Am doing very poorly. Was going to do two hangings yesterday, but the court called them off. Downright aggravating!!!! Nice weather here. Etc. Your Uncle. Given, 8 Mar. “Well! Some letter that was!” Guy tossed it down with an amused grin. “Uncle doesn’t have an atom of patience in his composition! I wonder what was really behind those hangings?” and the young Secretary of State indulged in a bit of speculation. But he was far enough from the truth. In fact, this was more or less how it went: “Román Esteban Fontajo! You have been found guilty of a horrendous debt, amounting to 5 gold doubloons! Come with us, immediately!” “I’m not Román, sir. I’m his brother, Rialto Espada.” “Well, come with us anyways! You’re going to be hung!” The man’s eyes widened in shock. “But… but,” he stammered, “I’m not Román! I’m not in debt!” “Hang your excuses! And you too! Come along!” A pair of brawny young sailor stepped forward and dragged the hapless Rialto Espada Fontajo out into the street. “Next stop, the town barracks!” their leader – none other than Guy K. Wyndzon’s Uncle – ordered. The group marched along, headed by the fearsome Uncle and tailed by the still thoroughly bewildered Rialto Espada. “KolonialBeamster!” the Uncle bellowed upon arriving. “What outrageous names some people have,” he muttered under his breath. Then, raising his voice again – “Come out immediately! You have been found guilty of a horrendous debt, amounting to… to… hang the amount! Come with us, on the double!” A smiley-faced soldier stepped up and saluted smartly. “KolonialBeamter’s complements, sir! I’m one of his minions. What can I do for you today, sir?” “You can come with us and be hung!” exclaimed the irascible old Uncle. The soldier’s tiny eyes expanded alarmingly. “Ye-es, sir,” he stammered. “Come along!” the Uncle ejaculated, waving one of the sailors up. And so the minion joined the group as they headed out toward the beach, followed by curious glances from the passersby. Once at the beach, Guy’s Uncle leaned over onto his stick, glowering. “Do your business!” he commanded the sailors. Nothing loath, one of the sailors scampered up the nearby palm tree. The Uncle waited in grim silence while his victims looked around them in a half-disbelieving alarm. Suddenly footsteps were heard in the distance, and Guy’s Uncle whirled around, only to come face to face with two darkly clad messengers. “Who are you?” he roared. “I bring an important message!” the one dressed in a suit and necktie exclaimed breathlessly. “I have an important letter!” ejaculated the other, at the same time. The first one turned upon the other angrily. “I am bringing the important message, not you!” “No!” the other one retorted. “I have the important letter!” “No you don’t! I have it!” “No, you don’t! It’s right here!” “What?! It’s right here!” Both men seemed ready to come to loggerheads, when Guy’s Uncle interposed – “Where are you two from?” “From the court!” exclaimed the man with the necktie. “From the High Council!” exclaimed the other. “No, from the court!” “From the council!” But Guy’s Uncle interrupted again. “Well, give me the message, or the letter, or whatever it is!” The messenger of the necktie bowed low and, with a glare at his rival, presented a sealed missive. The other one bowed even lower, and with a prolonged scowl toward his competitor, presented a letter tied with a silken thread. Guy’s Uncle took the sealed missive first. He perused it carefully, and as he read his brow gathered thunder. “What… what… what… nonsense!!” He turned and threw the letter violently into the sea, stomping and scowling and muttering. The two messengers exchanged glances. “I hope he doesn’t serve the other letter the same way,” one muttered. The Uncle glanced at the cover of the letter tied with a silken thread. It was directed to Román Esteban Fontajo. He turned and tossed it to Rialto Espada, who caught it instinctively. “A letter for you,” he said gruffly. Rialto Espada looked at the address. “But I’m not Román!” “If you can get hung instead of him, you might as well as read his mail!” Guy’s Uncle exclaimed – and abruptly walked off! The sailors and messengers and prisoners looked at each other in bewilderment. “Perhaps it has something to do with that letter,” suggested one of the messengers, pointing to the soggy piece of paper floating a little ways out. One of the sailors instantly dashed in to retrieve it. Then the group huddled around the squelchy mess and tried to decipher it. “It says… ‘To something somethingzon’… I can’t read the next part, but then it says something like, ‘error in calintention’?” “Calculation,” the minion suggested. “‘Error in calculation,’” the messenger nodded. He continued, “then farther down, ‘our regrets… no hanging…’” “Wait… does that mean… we’re not supposed to be hung?!” the minion exclaimed. “Hurray!” “Some of us were never supposed to be hung in the first place,” Rialto Espada sniffed. He was still a little perturbed. “Well, all’s well that ends well!” the High Council messenger exclaimed joyfully. “Say! What’s that letter you have there about?” Rialto Espada tore it open and read, To the honorable Román Esteban Fontajo, Greetings from the illustrious High Council of Trade. Your services on behalf of the crown and the city of Nova Terreli have come under our notice. We are pleased to present you, or a friend of yours whom you might appoint, with the following offer of mayorship of the grand city of Nova Terreli. Your response is eagerly awaited. _________________Guy K. Wyndzon _________________Secretary of State And once more the group looked at each other in surprised amazement.
-
The Golden Snake is under weigh! A MCTC messenger is aboard with important dispatches for Viceroy Renato Filamento C&C are welcome! I'm sure all you ship savvy people have plenty to say about my very landlubberish sail-do, so - fire away! This is my fourth free build this month, by the way!
-
Decided to try my hand at one of these for my next residence! I see Bardo as something of a frontier settlement (rough and ready sounding name!), so that's where this is. Keep the pigs out! Also tried out Garmadon's base technique. Quite a parts monster! This was a pretty fun build! Comments are appreciated, and thanks for checking it out!
-
Got 4 dark red profile bricks and just had to put them to some good use! This, by the way, is Guy's Uncle. Not quite sure what exactly he is doing in Weelond, but... here he is! I decided to do an SK style slide-out interior - pretty fun and remarkably easy! I'm on a roll! This pirate era stuff is fun! C&C welcome! This is my third free-build this month.
-
Previously - Part 1 - Plots and Preparations "What a day! What miserable cold!" Malek complained. "Sir, it is 80 degrees." "Eighty! Such a chill!" The coachman shrugged. Mummies! His passenger presently resumed the conversation. "Are we almost there yet?" "There's our destination - right over that dune." "That place? I took it for a chicken coop!" The tax collector looked out of the gilt coach window, disgusted. "Guess there won't be too many taxes to collect here... but you bet I'll get a hold of whatever there is to be had." To be continued... A few more pictures of the build: The back of the carriage: Carriages are always fun and though at times this one was a bit of a pain on the whole it was an enjoyable building experience! Pretty happy with how it turned out too, though like all my other carriages, it was too big for the base! Thanks for looking! Comments are always appreciated!
-
A fun free-build to take advantage of the free property license! Down in Weelond, reapers are just starting to get to work on this years crop. Many of the reapers are young whippersnappers who came over hoping to get rich quick but are now realizing that life in the New World isn't all it cracked up to be! C&C welcome! Thank you for looking!
-
.thumb.png.9e4550e6d7606030f9d13d7d604b4ec6.png)
"These are my tenants, and it's my job to protect them! I simply am not going to let any official come and..." "Yes, yes, we understand that. But you can't just..." "Why not? Aren't we strong enough - " "Excuse me, Ageven," Kha interjected, "but these Ruadh twisted pastries are just so delicious - Siedna, may I?" "Help yourself, Kha - they're there to be eaten!" "Thank you! ...go ahead, Ageven." "What was I saying? Oh yes - can't we take whatever they throw at us? What sort of knights are we, frightened off by a few dry bones?!" Ageven glared around. Aymeri glanced at his companions and shook his head doubtingly. "You know I'm as tired of the Desert King as you are, but let's be realistic here! He beat us the first time!" "Look," Masa interjected, "We just plain can't use brute force. You know that as well as the rest of us, Ageven." "So? Do we just sit back and whine?" Ageven snapped. Not being able to use force to cut the knots quickly always shortened his temper. "No." Masa lowered his voice to a mysterious whisper. "There are other ways." "Other ways?" The conspirators gathered round and put their heads together. To be continued... An overview of the build. Inspiration for the windows came from MKJ's recent BoBS build! -
This is a continuation of the detective's story; check out the introduction, the next part, and the third part for more. As a result of Castilo's news - that was the name of the miserable poltroon he had dragged out of the slimy well - Rhys Thomson set off for Nova Terreli. Here he had a stop in search of an artist. Rhys walked into the artist's shop. The artist was busily engaged in painting yellow flowers. Rhys, always the detective, instantly noticed the lack of talent. This was just a sheer copy-paste sort of thing. A monkey could have done quite as well. Evidently, he thought to himself, Mia wasn't much of an artist. She must have been desperate to take this disguise. Rhys coughed slightly. The sight of cherries on the table had reminded him of what his wife always said. "Rhys Thomson! Why on earth did you cut down that beautiful cherry tree!" Never mind the fact that it hadn't had fruit for three years and was a positive eyesore to any reasonable human being. It was always her "beautiful cherry tree" - Rhys focused his attention on the detective trail and tried to forget cherry trees. The artist had turned around, and Rhys was pleased to recognize the description he had been given of Mia. A slightly different hair style, to be sure, but that couldn't fool Rhys. "What would you like?" Mia asked, a little coldly. "What is your name?" Rhys asked. "Roberta, the artist, to serve you." "You lie. Your name is Mia, you are not an artist, and you have no desire to serve me." Mia looked a little shocked at this abrupt and thorough denunciation. Rhys went on, "In my experience, it is not usual for dead people to come back to life and become artists. Perhaps you'd be able to explain?" Mia frowned. "What do you want out of me?" "All I want is an honest explanation. Of everything." Mia had recovered her self possession. "My name is Roberta and I am an artist. What more can I explain?" Rhys stepped forward authoritatively. "Don't play dumb. I'm not here alone. With the help of your little crone Castilo, I could crack down with a warrant for your arrest anytime. So just do your thing and explain!" Mia looked stunned. Rhys smiled. He pulled out a small notepad and began patiently to extract information. To be continued...
-
A few days ago, Guy's Uncle's ex-chef made the terrible mistake of serving asparagus as a side dish for lunch. Uncle can't stand asparagus. His wife Elaine, however, has never cooked in her life; so a new chef was most definitely in order. Uncle has spent the last several days roaming New Eslandola in search of an asparagus hating chef, and has finally landed at Weelond's La Corona restaurant, where Chef Jalape is always pleased to show of his skills. After a delicious dinner of grilled fish, Uncle was ecstatic. This was the chef for him. Elaine, however, had been watching the chef out of the corner of her eye and had been quite alarmed by his reckless procedures with his humongous knife. She insisted upon asking a few questions before trying to strike a deal. Guy's Uncle began the conversation. "Delicious fish. Are you looking for a job?" Uncle never was good about beating around the bush. "Thankee! In course, I has a job, you sees - " "But, of course, you wouldn't mind a better one?" "Weel, no-o, I don't says..." "Wait a second!" Elaine interposed. "We're going a little fast here. Say! ...isn't that knife just a touch dangerous?" "Dangrus m'am? Oh, no-o! Not at all. In course, Jacques did cut off hes hand wid it, yesterday, and when I..." "But, you were saying," Guy's Uncle interposed, "that you wouldn't mind a better job?" "No-o, I think..." "But surely, if the knife isn't dangerous, your grill gets a bit out of control sometimes?" This was from Elaine. "Out of control?!? Oh no, m'am, I's very careful. You've no notion how many times I's stopped the flames right afore they reached the roof - why, just yesterday I was grilling..." "But!" Guy's Uncle interrupted, "But, of course, it would be even better if you had a better job. Maybe as a private chef?" "A private chef? Ye-es... I has sometimes thought on that..." "But," Elaine interjected, pointing, "is it really necessary to have that pail of water always on hand behind you?" "Oh yes, m'am! Why, I's just saying - yesterday I's busy with the grill, an' all on the sudden..." "Say!" Guy's Uncle cut in. "Perhaps you'd like to be a private chef for me?" Jalape looked at him in surprise. Then he flourished his knife in the air and sliced through the atmosphere with downright glee. "Why, sir, I'd be honored!" "It's settled then!" Uncle responded, before Elaine could add another word. This is actually one of my favorites of all my MOCs to date - really liked how the road technique worked here and the windows also turned out quite as well as I had envisioned them. Pretty fun to build too, though it took me a while to hit on the right color combinations and that sort of thing! C&C welcome! Thanks for looking!
-
Three Kaliphlin officers are making plans for how to stop the Drow from flowing in to Kaliphlin as well, as forces loyal to the Drow invaders of Avalonia have been spotted in Kaliphlin. So far the few invaders have been dealt with by swift actions of the Kaliphlin light cavalry.
-
On a barren island, far out in the ocean, a lonely knight dragged himself up onto the sand. He raised his head languidly, looking tiredly round him. Suddenly he sprang up, and dashed up the beach with frightened eyes. All alone! Not so much as a coconut tree to break up the monotony of the horizon - he groaned aloud in a burst of despair. At last he raised his head. Up above him, circling in the air, flew his faithful pet bird. He fluttered down, resting on the knight's shoulder, looking inquiringly into his face. On a sudden impulse the knight took off the golden chain he always wore, and with a sharp twist broke off a fragement. He handed it to the bird, with the command, "Go home!" and the bird obediently flew off. Slowly the knight rose to his feet, and stood watching his last hope vanish over the horizon... I'd like to claim UP DoH credit for Forced Perspective (General Building), and Oceanside or River Scene (Geography). Somehow I wasn't completely happy with how this turned out - can't quite put my finger on it though. Maybe because I started out trying to do a graveyard scene, then switched to a feast, and finally came out with this... Comments and criticisms welcome!
-
This is a continuation of the detective's story; you can see the introduction and the previous part. A nasty slime pit that was once a well is hardly a place most people would choose to get some quiet thinking done; but, as his wife would have gladly told you, Rhys Thomson was not "most people." He was quite well aware that (as his wife always said whenever he was searching for his misplaced monocle) "odd things turn up in odd places!" and, being a detective, he courted said odd places as much as he could, in the hopes of one day stumbling upon an odd thing. This particular day, Rhys was meditating upon the curiosity of having two murder cases on his hands at the same time, which seemed to involve different people, but which still struck him as being somehow intertwined. Deep in thought, he leaned against the wall of the old pit, ignoring the noxious vapors that rose to the surface. Suddenly he noticed a little bit of white rag floating in the green slime. He reached forward and jerked it up and was shocked to discover that, beneath it, up popped a head! "Who are you?!" Rhys Thomson exclaimed. "Wh-who- who am I?" the poor culprit stuttered. "I- I am a poor man, s-sir, I've not done anything! I - " "Not done anything! Come now, my fine fellow, don't think you can hide from me," Rhys ejaculated in a commanding tone of scorn. "I know better than that! Tell me now! I seem to remember you, sneaking around, back in..." "Oh, no! No! It wasn't me, truly sir! I didn't do it!" the man faltered in terror. The detective smiled grimly to himself. "You may not have done it," he thought, "but you've done something, or you've seen something, and I'll make your talk, or my name isn't Rhys!" Then for a moment he fell to remembering how his wife had often said that he ought to have been named "Slys," as being more appropriate to the tendency he had for getting out of any housework - but, dismissing that subject from his mind, he continued, "Didn't do it, you say? Why, do you think a lie will help your cause now? Ha! You don't know who you're dealing with! Speak up, now, confess it!" "B-but, truly, I didn't! It was all his fault! I- I was just - just outside, standing there! And then, she went in - but no, no, I didn't do it! I had nothing to do with it!" "Oh ho! He and she, eh? Now we're getting somewhere!" thought the detective to himself. Out loud he said, "Little goose, not to know that to be silent is to be an accomplice! When he killed her, and you just..." "Killed her? Oh no, sir, she killed herself - I mean, that is - n-no - or - yes..." The poor man was becoming momentarily more befuddled than ever. To say truth, Rhys was a little befuddled too. Of course, he had just been making a wild guess, when he said that "he killed her," but this bit about suicide was throwing him off track pretty thoroughly. "Killed herself!" he exclaimed. "Now, really! Are you so sure of that?" For all his inward confusion, Rhys was just the person to pull a good bluff, so he sounded stern and tough and the poor man in the slime pit was thoroughly cowed. "Y-yes - I mean, n-no. She didn't kill herself, you know, sir, she just faked it, a-and - b-but, I didn't do it! He did it!" "Good night! Will I never get any names out of this slime?" thought Rhys. Then he resumed, "He did it, you say? Well! Prove it! - or, I will have to think that you are guilty." "I can! I can! See, see, he pulled out the gun - his own gun - and his bullets are all marked - his own mark - and - and - she can testify that I was standing outside, and I can testify that she was standing outside, and we can both testify that he did it!" Rhys twisted his mustache. Here was a puzzler. He had done it, and she had faked her death, and she knew it, and he knew it, and between it all, someone or another had clearly died! Rhys tried a bold move, in a guess. "Poor Jamie!" he breathed softly. The coward in the slime pit didn't contradict the name. "B-by the time I knew wh-what h-happened," he whimpered, "it- it was too late!" He half sobbed. "An-and now - now, we've got to kill Nacho too, an-and - we have to do it, or Don Gonzalo will kill us! just like he killed Jamie! an-an-" "Nacho! Don Gonzalo!" thought the detective. "Now we're getting somewhere!" Out loud he said, "Filthy scum! Come with me, and speak it out clearly, else, by my wife's beard, you'll spend the night behind bars!" Then Rhys added as an after thought - "Not that my wife has a beard, of course - it's just an expression." And he dragged the miserable man out of the slime pit and marched him along the streets. ...To be continued! A build mainly to advance the story-line, with the slime being a bit of an after thought; at first it was going to be a nice park, but then, I was tired of blue fountains. C&C appreciated! Thanks for looking, and for reading if you did so!
-
Hugo's father was the famous general Hermol d' Offren, with a huge painting of his still adjourning their nearly dilapidated cottage back home. Hermol was among king's most capable generals when one acute disagreement with a wealthier aristocrat threw him out of favor rather quickly.
-
Welcome to Ageven's summer residence down in Auner! But it's much more than just an exterior... there's a fully furnished set of rooms inside once you fold it out! No manor would be complete without a kitchen! Above the kitchen is a bedroom. Credit goes to SK and LJ for the bed, I took their use of headlight bricks for a spin. Really like how it ended up; I've been trying for a quite a while now to get a good bed design! On the opposite side of the foldout (this picture is taken from the bay window): One of the two rooms with a door (besides the attic) is Ageven's bedroom. This room is located on the bottom floor, right inside the bay window. The other room with a door is very inaccesible for a camera, so I didn't manage to get good pictures of it, which is a shame. It has the same kind of rafters as the chandelier room and a dismantled bed and a large dresser/shelf contraption. Moving upwards, the roof: My last build for the year, I assure you. Somehow it didn't quite turn out as I had anticipated, I think because of the flat roof. I was planning on more of a traditional tudor vibe with a bit of an almost modern touch thrown in with the stair stepped windows (which, by the way, I was super happy with! - even though I did keep running out of tan 1x1s), but instead it got a dash of an eastern feel. Oh well. On the whole this was a rather exhausting build. In some ways I almost like it better than my cathedral, but on the other hand... C&C welcome! Thanks for looking, I hope you enjoyed it!
-
After months of construction, Auner's chapel is finally done. The chapel has a fully functional interior: One last overview: And, finally, I'm done! This build took a good deal longer than anticipated, but I'm happy with the end result. Not quite the largest build in terms of footprint that I've ever done, but almost certainly the largest in sheer bulk. Thanks for looking! C&C welcome, hope you enjoyed it!
-
Eslandola's Northwest Coast is no place for law abiding citizens. Smuggling turns a pretty penny here, and doesn't seem to be too risky either. I'd say someone's been bribed! One last shot: C&C welcome! Thanks for looking and enjoy your time in BoBS!
-
Despite the ravages of the civil war, there are a few secluded nooks where it is still possible to lead a peaceful life. C&C welcome as always!
-
The next installment of my Tales of the Past series! Parts One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, and Seven, for those who are curious. Part Eight is below. Justice! The plea rang in Kalaflar’s ears. He stood bareheaded before the grave. First his uncle – then Gascoyne – now his adopted father – who was this black knight, that he hunted him and all he loved down with such relentless persistence? Kalaflar’s eyes narrowed, his lips tightened. Whoever he was, he must be found – caught – brought to justice! With the force of his resolve he swung around and the gravel spurted out from under his feet as he strode off to make his way in the world once again. Overview: I know the last two have been pretty small, but hopefully I can step up the size for the next part of this story! I did enjoy using my olive and dark green for this one though. Comments are welcome!
-
Below is a transcript of Ageven's speech on the occasion: “Fellow Kaliphlinians! Our country has been decimated. War has torn its lands and harried its people. The Desert King has hit hard with his merciless fist. The only hope of survival seems to lie in quiet submission. Many act as if resistance would be suicidal. “Are you a brave people? Or will you sit in your cushioned ivory palaces in Petraea and watch your liberties be swept away and only a few meager handouts be given you in return? Will you shut yourselves up in your narrow castles and ignore the pleas of your few countrymen who continue to hold out for freedom? Will you bury your heads in the remotest sands and congratulate yourself that whoever else falls, you are safe? You are not safe! I tell you, you are not safe! The tyrant pretends amnesty, he offers bribes, he whispers sweet promises. He only wishes to rout out a few pestilent trouble makers – then a glorious reign will be ushered in under which prosperity will flood – what? Whom? Not the average person, not the hard working merchants, not the careful barons – the beggarly flatterers, the court gossips, those who know how to further their own interests by smoothly buttering up the disentombed mummy that pretends to lead us! “And for the rest of us? What is left? A land ruined, a country shattered, a world that is falling apart. The worst brutally push their way to the top, and we – are we willing to stand by and see a corrupt monarchy lord it over us and our children? “Does it matter if we are willing? Is not hope gone? Are not things so far advanced that there is no possibility of stemming the tide? “Fellow Kaliphlinians, so far I have come with a message of despair. Now I point to our only terrestrial hope! Stand up, brave men of the south! Stand up, you barons that for so long have held onto your right to govern yourselves in lawful council! Stand up, you merchants to whom the right to traffic freely is literally food and drink! Stand up, Kaliphlinians all! “Let not party names distract us. The land of the south is one. If we do not hang together, be assured we shall all hang separately. Ulandian or High Councillors, we fall or stand – as Kaliphlinians!” A roar of applause followed the outburst, and then Ageven cried out, “Sultan’s Gate must be sacked!” Note that the highly political tone is reflective of Ageven’s in character sentiments. I personally, of course, know that the nominal rule of the DK in Kaliphlin is irrelevant… at least, more or less, except in so far as it attracts/repulses members. Had fun getting a few good quotes in there. Finally got around to building this! I believe it's the first time I used that floor technique - quite tile intensive but it looks pretty good! Thanks for checking the MOC out!
