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Countless citizens of Kaliphlin lost their homes, belongings, and even loved ones during the drawn out war between the High Council, Desert King, and Ulandus. Many chose to take what little they had left and travel with makeshift caravans, to try and find a haven from the constant strife, whether within Kaliphlin or another guild: C&C welcome
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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!
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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!
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A counter to LordDan at K3 Not all citizens of Easterbroke believe that treason is the best way to earn their right to join with Avalonia. Therefore, these loyalists have manned small, fast patrolboats to intercept the smugglers running weapons to fuel war and pain on Easterbroke. ______________ 1) Sorry for the photoquality, but light was getting dim... 2) This was a surprisingly complex technique for building a boat, but quite fun! 3) I have tried to recreate LordDan's rock technique 4) C&C welcome
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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!
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The sun filtered into the hall in silence, creating patches of colored light where the stained glass windows shone. Nasr's footsteps echoed through the hall, mingling with the muttered prayers of the one worshiper in the temple at the time. The two Mummy guards stood at rigid attention. Not every day did the Commander of Operations in the area north of the Nestlands come to their jurisdiction, this lonely shrine. But now he was striding next to Nasr, one of the few men Nasr knew who could keep pace with him. The man's deep, alert brown eyes turned, fixing their gaze on Nasr's battle-hardened, black ones. He stared at him thoughtfully for a few seconds before speaking. “I hear you performed well at the Duels. It is a pity you were eliminated.” Nasr inclined his head, taking the compliment on face value. The man continued. “And now that your leg hampers your athletic capabilities we must find a position of command for you. To tell you the truth, I would have liked it if you were here to replace me, these bird worshiping jungle dwellers are giving us quite a hassle, and we can never seem to completely eliminate them... but it was not to be.” Nasr's face didn't change expression. “What are my orders?” “Ah, orders...” A wry smile passed over the man's face and his eyes passed beyond Nasr for a few seconds. The worshiper's servant, one of those cat-creatures from Ulandus, shuffled his feet uncomfortably, waiting for his master. The man's eyes refocused on Nasr. “A certain High Council Guerrilla band has been paining me recently. They are few in number, but have the support of the natives. Your job is to hunt them down and kill every last one of them... except their leader. I want him alive.” The man back toward the door and restarted his stride toward the door. “You will be given half a score elite assassins and anti-Guerrilla experts. That is all I can spare at the moment.” Nasr nodded. 'Only ten men, against a complete Guerrilla force... Pretty good odds.' A grunt sounded behind them and Nasr spun around to see one of the mummy guards topple to the ground, and arrow shaft protruding from his neck. A bang echoed through the hall and Nasr turned to see a group of High Council archers rush through the door on the far end of the building, arrow on string. At their head strode a mummy dressed in the red and blue of the High Council and wielding a black longsword. Nasr heard a gasp of recognition to his left and there was the sound of steel scraping against steel as he and the Commander drew their swords. The Mummy behind Nasr growled and started toward the intruders only to drop to the floor with an arrow in his chest. The leader of the Archers glanced at him then turned his gaze toward the Commander. “I would suggest that you and your crony drop your weapons, unless you wish to become a storage unit for my company's arrows.” Seething hatred boiled up inside of Nasr at the name. 'When was I ever this man's crony!?!' But the sight of the half dozen arrow shafts aimed at his neck spoke for themselves and Nasr slowly let his blade drop to the floor. The sword clanged loudly on the flagstone floor, shortly followed by another to his left. The worshiper's servant dropped a long dagger he had drawn. The Mummy Commander Fixed his gaze on the Commander, waiting a few seconds before speaking. “A pleasure to see you, Ramir. Last time we met you appointed me commander of a small watchtower near Everlast. Remember?” “I remember.” Commander Ramir said, through clenched teeth. “That tower, along with all the surrounding land,” the Mummy continued, “is now in the hands of the High Council. And now, I believe, you are too.” Nasr took a step back. “You won't get away with this, traitor!” Ramir yelled. Nasr took another step back. “You are mistaken, in both respects.” The Mummy responded. “For one, I am no traitor. 'I' was never on your side in the first place. Secondly, I will get away with this, because you are coming with me.” Nasr took another step back and felt for something behind him. His hand met a pillar and he quickly ducked behind it. He glanced around him, searching for a weapon. His eyes lit upon the small stone pedestal upon which some sacred jewel was placed. 'Perfect'. “You betrayed our trust!” Ramir shouted. “Trust is only as strong as the thing in which it is placed.” The Mummy responded. Nasr leaped out into the open and hefted the pedestal, letting the jewel fall clinking to the ground. The archers spun towards him, but not soon enough. Taking a few running steps forward, Nasr hefted the pedestal toward the High Council archers, aiming specifically for their commander. The Mummy turned, and his eyes focused on the object flying toward him. Reflexes kicked in and he leaped out of the way, just as the pedestal smashed into the floor past him, almost hitting one of the archers, and demolishing his Longbow. Nasr didn't wait for them to react. Ignoring the pain coming from his leg Nasr sprinted toward the open door, closely followed by the worshiper’s cat servant. Ramir hesitated a moment, still trying to comprehend what happened, then started after them. An arrow whizzed over Nasr's head and he redoubled his pace. There was a yell from behind him but Nasr didn't bother to look. He had been given an assignment. Not even the man that gave it to him would stop him from carrying it out now. The build. I was experimenting with a different style of stonework, (having only patches of greebles, along with patches of olive green for moss) and a raised part of the floor. I also tried stained glass again, and I think I was slightly more successful this time. The chandelier is new design for me as well. 'nother Pic. Anyhow, another LOM convertible, that happened to be directed against the Desert King (heavens knows we need it). Hope you enjoyed the story. And also; you are correct if you drew a distinction between the Ramir fig and Disco's character. I was originally planning on making this a counter-guerrilla to his attack on Eastgate, until I found out about the size limit. (Dang it!). In any case, hopefully this will do. And also: since there seemed to be some confusion about how to counter my previous Guerrillas, I will set out a few possibilities. 1. Recapture the Commander. 2. Show a capable replacement. 3. Destroy the whole building with them in it and take the title for yourself. Anyway, as long as you don't kill any of my characters, you can do pretty much anything with them. Soli Deo Gloria & Sola Gracia! I would like to claim UoP credit for: Stained Glass (Mosaics, stained glass, or other complex SNOTed floors designs).
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One of the most celebrated Kaliphlin champions is fighting in the Lonely Mountain Rumble. In the narrow streets in the volcanic city around the vulcano, he has a big advantage using his round shield and his long Ximian Spear to push enemies into the lava. ---- Without enemy: Sir Bath Manee Taimes: ---- For the Republic!! For Stedor!! C&C always welcome!! Note: I tried something new for myself with the windows :D
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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!!
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Graham of Reyelan attacks an Orc warrior during the melee. If I win, the next warzone should be F7.
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Graham of Reyelan duels with two elite Ulandian soldiers. If I win, the next warzone should be G6.
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Hereby my entry to warzone 8. Should I win, the next warzone should be I5. Only few of the channels of the Qar-Akhen River Delta are consistently navigable. To guide vessels towards these channels, small lighthouses has been erected on cliffs near the critical points of the channels. Control of these means control of most of the shipping, as only few captains can navigate the channels unaided... The Tower by Beorthan, on Flickr These towers are normally manned by a single keeper, but in these times of war, small garrisons of a few soldiers are stationed to guard the tower. Under the cover of the morning mist, Beorthan and Tauro has been ferried accross to the tower, swimming the last bit to avoid detection. After quickly dispatching the guard at the pier, they have now entered the tower, and are fighting the guards to wrest control over to the High Council. The Backside by Beorthan, on Flickr On the roof, Tauro is making quick work of the lookout, who will soon fall to his watery grave below... ...on the roofs by Beorthan, on Flickr ...while Beorthan is finishing off another guard from the balcony below. ...on the balconies by Beorthan, on Flickr Located off the coast, this lighthouse stands amidst the rolling waves of the southern sea, which often engulfes the lighthouse in soothing sounds. But when the seas run wild, they seem to struggle with the cliffs and stonework in an epic battle to wrest the tower off its foundation. Now, as ever, the seas roll on regardless of the drama above, and will wash off the blood of the skirmish before the next high tide... The water by Beorthan, on Flickr Thanks for looking, all. C&C is - as always - welcome. I am quite happy with my waves - a first for me, and the tower came out reasonable well, although a smoother transition between the lower, irregular part, and the upper part is high on my wishlist.
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Duel in the Sacred Forest Warzone 11: "The Battle for Cresentthorn’s Favor", C4 Ardeshir, a desert tribe chieftain, is battling one of the champions of the Desert King. They are fighting in an ancient ruin in the Wither Woods, the which is rumored to have been the place where Kaligem signed the first treaty with the Cresentthorn elves. Al’Meter has detailed a pair of his elves to watch over the duel. Ardeshir has managed to disarm his opponent and is now only a heartbeat away from plunging his fearsome weapon into the chest of his foe. My entry to Warzone 11: The Battle for Cresentthorn’s Favor in the Kaliphlin civil war. UoP credits claimed: Forest [Geography]
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Trial of Haxtarus Counter guerrilla build for the High Council against Ulandus, zone C5. Haxtarus, ruler of Cefivia, a location on the outskirts of the Witherwoods, has betrayed the High Council and handed over control of his territory to Ulandus. High Council soldiers have seized him and he is now facing trial and most probably execution for his treason. In any case, the treaty with Ulandus is declared null and void. UoP credits claimed: Courtroom [Trade and Law] Counter to guerrilla attack Signing A Treaty by Kai NRG: For the Republic!
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The dust had not even settled from the Desert King troops' wagon before Virgil and his eldest son Arash handed over the weapons the false king so graciously had hand-delivered to his jewelry shop, The Ruby Ring. Clearly the mummies did not know that Arash was a longtime Kaliplin Army soldier before being honorably discharged on account of a grievous eye injury. He and his father now serve as very effective spies for the High Council as his famous shop near the Witherwoods attracts people from all over Kaliphlin and the rest of Historica. Although, the shop's resident monkey, Sam, may spoil the subterfuge with his drunken chatter! A counter to MassEditor's guerrilla: Arming the Resistance I'd like to pick up UoP credits for: Trade and Law - Marketplace Geography - Desert (2 against) More on Flickr, C&C appreciated!
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Hereby my build for war zone 15: The battle for Amrakect. Should I win, C6 should be the next war zone. It had been a long march since the desperate battle of Queenscross. Circumstances had forced Beorthan to lead his unit, now bolstered by a group of beastmen, out of the city before the outcome of the battle was clear. However, judging by the overwhelming forces thrown into it by the socalled Desert King, Queenscross would be lost. While their own skirmishes had been succesful, and seen many a mummy and goblin slain, they could not quite shake the feeling of defeat from their hearts, as their legs grew weary and Amrakect appeared on the horizon. Already, smoke was rising from the farmsteads and villages surrounding the city, obviously the result of Desert King troops approaching. After entering the city, Beorthan bade his unit to halt for a final rest, before again joining the frey, defending the city. He looked around at his unit and saw the rugged, ready-for-anything expressions you only see on veterans tired of war, but still set to defend their cause. "Will there ever be an end to war?" he thought to himself, before standing up before this troops, clearing his throat. "Even though large tracts of Kaliphlin and many old and famous cities have fallen or may fall into the grip of the Desert King and all the odious apparatus of his depotic rule, we shall not flag or fail. We shall go on to the end. We shall fight in the desert, we shall fight on the seas and oceans, we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength. We shall defend every grain of sand, whatever the cost may be..." "...We shall fight at the gates..." "...we shall fight in the streets and in the alleys..." "...we shall fight on the rooftops..." "We shall never surrender, and if, which I do not for a moment believe, Kaliphlin or a large part of it were subjugated and starving, then the Guilds beyond the borders, armed and guarded by the brave men and women, would carry on the struggle, until, in Gods' good time, Historica, with all its power and might, steps forth to the rescue and the liberation of the people of Kaliphlin." Pausing for a moment, Beorthan looked around at his troops, all with determined smiles upon the their faces. "FOR THE REPUBLIC! FOR THE PEOPLE!" ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ OOC: First of all, credits go to Winston Churchill for a slightly paraphrased speech. I have tried to emulate Erynlasgalen's style in the corner towers walltexturing, and in the city wall, while still adding something new. (Further, I have taken some inspiration from some of LittleJohn's brilliant Katoren builds. ) I rather like these builds with narrow passageways, but it is a real pain to photograph, which is why I have a included the first picture, where the wall is removed. Hope I have succeeded in presenting the build reasonably well. There are a few extra pictures on my flickr. C&C is always welcome
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A counter to Umbra-Manis's guerilla at E3. As the "Authority Figure" made his speech, the kids listening quickly became bored and started throwing fruits and vegetables at him. The result surprsised and delighted the kids, as the the "Authority Figure" started juggling everything they threw his way!: C&C more than welcome
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Patterns of light shifted over the surface of the ground as the branches above Adira's head waved in the wind. To her right a tall stone pillar stood solidly amongst the swaying trees. Letting her hand pass over it's rough, weathered surface, she let her mind linger on the story of it's beginning, of how it had been placed there by the ancient Cresenthorn elves and the men of the High Council to commemorate their alliance. Who would have known an alliance made by elves would be so fragile... “Captain, the dual is about to begin.” Adira turned to see Udgr standing in front of her, at attention. She returned his salute and looked past him to where the (very ugly) Cresenthorn elf was finishing up attempting to understand the half-intelligible grunts of the Desert King minotaur that made up the opposing party. Adira eyed his huge, spiked war-club nervously. “Do you have a strategy, Sargent Udgr?” The wiry orc broke into a wide grin, revealing two rows of yellow, cracked teeth. “Yes captain. Don't get hit, get in close, strike hard. From the look of him, he'll probably swing first, leaving himself open. If not, I'll find some other way.” Adira felt dubious, but she concealed her apprehension. “Ok, but if you have the chance, spare the Minotaur’s life. Our friends the Rudaur would appreciate that.” The elf put his book down and motioned Udgr to begin. The orc managed a quick salute to Adira before turning toward the Minotaur, sword drawn. The Minotaur, wearing only a pair of pants, stepped forward and took a defensive stance about fifteen paces away. For a few seconds neither moved. Just as Adira was beginning to think that Udgr's presumption would not come about the Minotaur let out a bellow and charged his footsteps shaking the earth as he neared. Udgr didn't flinch. Just as the Minotaur's war-club was about to hit the orc's head, Udgr ducked beneath it, letting it pass a mere few inches above his head, on of the spikes almost snagging on his hood. Fast as lightning, Udgr stepped in toward the Minotaur and sliced at his side. But as fast as Udgr was, the Minotaur was faster. Using his former momentum, he brought his weapon back just in time to block Udgr's blade with his handle. Then, while Udgr was still recuperating, he swung again at the orc, this time at his chest. Udgr leaped back, in a desperate attempt to dodge the blade. Adira shut her eyes, waiting for the sickening sound of cracking ribs. It never came. Adira opened her eyes just in time to see Udgr leaping through the air at the unbalanced Minotaur, blade raised. Surprise entered the Minotaur's eyes at seeing his opponent alive and at his throat. He made a move to bring up the handle of his war-club to block the incoming blade, but it was already too late. There was a thud as Udgr's legs slammed into the Minotaur's chest, sending him hurtling to the ground. The earth shifted underneath Adira's feet as the Minotaur landed, the orc astride him. For a few fateful seconds Udgr's blade hovered over the Minotaur's neck, then he slowly stood, sheathing his sword. The elf was running up now, waiving his hands, like that would make a difference. Udgr offered the Minotaur a hand, only to leap back out of the way as the creature nearly bit it off. He sidled over to where Adira stood, his eyes lingering on the red-eyed creature, which stared at the orc furiously, completely ignoring the outraged yelling of the elf official. “Poor creature. He has long been a slave of the Desert King, no doubt. I wish we could save him.” “We may yet, Udgr.” Adira answered her mind elsewhere. We may yet win this war, but it would be a miracle. Da build. Ok, so that tree trunk is weird, I get it, but it's the only full dinosaur tail I own, so... live with it. I'll put it under the “Exotic” category. The landscaping I like, though I couldn't do much with it because of the size. The Pillar... tell me what you think. Soli Deo Gloria & Sola Gracia! ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Wow, no new UoP claims... I need to branch out!
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Warzone 18: The Battle For Eastgate Location: E2 Who Can Participate: High Council and Desert King (Unless Ulandus can get in range before the due date. ) Terrain: Eastgate sits on the Red River, and sits on a grassy plain, with the Wither Woods starting just north of the city. The Red River was named for its red water due to the color of the soil of the Wither Woods, which was the main sediment picked up by the stream. The river is mostly slow moving, making it easy to traverse the river northward. However, the entrance of the river is guarded by the fortified Great Bridge, which is almost flanked on each side by two massive towers called The Guardians. (they sit just to the north of the Bridge) Map here Eastgate is considered a safe harbor for ships traveling east from Avalonia into the coasts of the Badlands. (Also vice versa, but the winds are more favorable west to east.) Furthermore, it sits at the mouth of the Red River making it paramount to the great timber trade (live oak in large quantities, the finest in the world) and some river trade from upriver. It is a mix of styles, having some classic European architecture, mixed with Mediterranean and Arabian because it is a melting pot of cultures. The quarries to the east bring brown and tan rock, while the quarries up river bring red rock, with Avalonia so close, rock grey in color is also sold in the city. The city walls are mostly tan / brown in color, but some of the newer structures are the now cheaper Avalonian grey. They are often whitewashed to make them stand out in the inner city. Not only is Eastgate a port, but it also has some of the best ship building facilities in the known world (due to the large live oak supply that comes through its port) with a natural bay that has been artificially expanded around four hundred years ago. The inner city, The Old City, which held out during the War of the Brothers is mostly large and older buildings, while the New City is unwalled and more houses and buildings made of timber. History: The wiki link above has more about the city’s history. One note here is that the Greater Eastgate Article and Resupply Company owns most of the town, and elects its leaders. GEAR and Eastgate both have standing armies, although they were largely winnowed down through the War of the Brothers. The city is in good shape, despite being sieged, as Dugal’s forces controlled the New City and Petera’s controlled the Old City – neither side made a successful move on the other, leaving little collateral damage to their home town. Mini-challenge: The only way that Eastgate’s inner city falls is if the Eastern Guardian Tower is breached. While it stands, no ships may get out to the Inland Sea or up the river to the Wither Woods. DK builders, the task is simple, depict the great Guardian Tower, and show your forces breeching it. HC: Defend the Guardian to your last breath! Both sides should clearly depict the tower, which overhangs the Red River, and their forces should be winning the battle. Special: Whoever has the “best tower” as voted on in the voting thread will be known as “The Tallest man/woman in Kaliphlin.” Restrictions: 32x32 Due Date: May 31st
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This is a counter to Lord Dan's Guerrilla: http://www.eurobrick...96#entry2185522 POV: Adira Magdeburg. Shadows flickered across the walls, matching the flickering of the flames on either side of the door. Adira's footsteps echoed across the dimly lit hall as she, Sirhan, and an orc Sergeant named Udgr followed a nervous young fire priest toward a shallow depression in the floor in which was situated a low stone table. The man stepped swiftly down a short flight of steps leading to the table. Adira followed, along with Udgr, her hardened leather boots making strange notes on the alternating stone and metal steps. At the bottom a ring of the strange, green metal bordered the low table. “Where is the entrance to the crypt?” Adira asked, keeping her voice at a whisper. The priest removed a large golden key from beneath his mail and tossed it on the table. “You're looking at it.” After a few more moments silence he elaborated. “This key unlocks the door, which opens out of this table. The artifacts are down there.” “How do we know you are not going to shut us down in there as soon as we walk through?” Udgr demanded. “How do I know you will not turn me over to the Desert King's operative?” The priest asked. “Believe me, we the common priests are not so driven by greed as those traitors on the Council. We still maintain a sense of honor, and we will not be brought under the banner of an Undead Tyrant for the price of a few trinkets!” “Then show us where the key-hole is and get us out of here before your shift is done.”Adira said impatiently. “And remember to say everything we told you to say. The Desert King took back the artifacts at knife-point, and told you it was the High Council that did it.” “Do not worry about me, I have this covered. You do your part, I'll do mine.” The priest placed the key into a nearly invisible key-hole and then gave a mighty twist. A dull thud sounded and a slab of stone rose out of the middle of the table, as if by magic. Udgr leaped onto the table and stared down it a second before entering. Sirhan was about to follow but Adira signaled for him to stay up above and watch the priest. Scowling, he complied. Adira stepped up onto the table and followed Udgr down a long flight of stone steps into darkness. The build. If any of you thought “sci-fi” when you first saw this build, then congratulations! 1,000 kudos or something. This build is a convertible from a sci-fi build on Mocpages, so that explains the lack of good stonework and the ultra-smooth floor. I did have to add the wooden door, switch the profile bricks around, and make a more medieval style table, and I think it worked. Anyhow, please give me your critiques/criticisms. Soli Deo Gloria & Sola Gracia! _____________________________________________________________________________________________________ _____________________________________________________________________________________________________ I would like to receive UoP credit for: 1. Architecture: Wall techniques: SNOTed tile stonework.
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Fighting on the Ashes Warzone 4: "The Lonely Mountain Rumble", H9 Lutalo is a fierce warrior from the Spice Islands and a veteran from many battles including the Battle of Castle Zar in the Revolword war. He is fighting in the melee on the slopes of the volcano known as Erexhi (or "The Lonely Mountain") in Kaliphlin. As the mountain has recently erupted, the volcanic rocks and sand have been covered with a layer of pumice and ash. Lutalo's quick and advanced disarming moves have forced this Ulandian soldier into a very unfavorable fighting position... My entry to Warzone 4: The Lone Mountain Rumble in the Kaliphlin civil war. If I get a say in the matter by this build, I'd like D3 to be the next war zone.
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The Kings Aquaduct is a huge landmark in the Nyaka Tupu Desert and the Parched Lands. Ages ago, it was originally a tan construction but as the centuries passed by, it became an old ruin. As the richer elite of Petraea asked for fresh water from the Rakath Mountains, Lord Dextrus Flagg ordered to build a new aquaduct on the ruins of the old one. Above the watercanal, there is a walkway. Where the Kings Aquaduct crosses the Qar Akhen River, the most beautifull of all towers stands: The Kings Tower! Almost impossible to conquer, it guards the traffic coming from East to West and South to North. As Lord DamaXimus understands the importance of this Aquaduct, he send his Ximian Archers to the Aquaduct in order to defend it! Although, a group of Ulandus 1st Legionaires were about to pass under the bridge so they could raid the lands of the Desert King in the North. Well protected by the huge battlements, the Ximian Archers had no difficulty piercing them with arrows. For the High Council!!! Thanks for looking! C&C welcome!
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My entry to WZ3. Some of Aymeri's Men ambush two Ulandians on a jungle path: If I win, I'd like D3 to be the next war zone. More pictures here: Link C&C appreciated
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The sun cast thick blankets of heat down toward the shimmering surface of the swamps at the southern-most tips of the Delta near Ras-El-Akhen. Only occasional breaths of wind came from the sea, and those didn't help much as far as the temperature was concerned. But the heat didn't bother Agel. Agel stared out over the expanse of swamp-land, his eye-lids drooping to the point of where they would appear shut to any casual observer. But they were not shut. Even in this state of restfulness Agel was as alert as if he were in a private audience with the First Centurion himself. Not that he would ever get near the First Centurion, or want to. He was a Leander from mainland Ulandus. He had grown up using the name of the First Centurion synonymously with the words Tyrant, and Oppressor. Everyone in his little village knew that those of their kind who “Visited the First Centurion” never returned, not that they could do much about it. Yet the rural Leanders never spoke his name without including the traditional spit. “They come.” Agel turned to see his mentor and main companion, Dijhar, standing a short ways off, his small recurve bow and one arrow in hand. Agel nodded and returned to surveying the landscape. They still had a few minutes, Dijhar always gave several minutes warning. It was Dijhar who had originally recruited Agel to join the High Council Guerrillas, all that time ago. When Agel's father was “hired” by a rich Ulandan Merchant, his mother feared the same would happen to him, so everyone was relieved when a distant uncle of his mother's stopped by and volunteered to take care of the lad. This “taking care of”, as Agel soon found out, involved a large amount of Guerrilla warfare, something the Leanders were expert at. Not that he minded much. A familiar squishing sound reached Agel's ears, from somewhere behind. Humans. Agel turned to see the bottom half of a Ulandan soldier passing on the other half of the stone pillar he was leaning against, their boots making the squelching sound made by humans unaccustomed to the to the mosses of the swamp-lands. One of them began to speak. “Darinthus, why is it that whenever I ask you a direct question you act as if you didn't hear? Is acting spiteful the best thing you can do with your time?” There were two of them. The one with a goatee was the one who spoke. Agel watched with interest as they continued. “Hmm?” The other, Darinthus, glanced up from whatever it was he was studying on the ground. “See!” The goatee man said, clearly annoyed. “You are illustrating my point exactly!” “What point?” Darinthus looked quite confused, as befitted the strangely shaped head that each of his kind seemed to like. “IN THE NAME OF ALL THE GODS!!!!!!” There was a splash as Darinthus stumbling in surprise, tripped over a vine, and fell into a small pool, barely as wide as him, yet deep enough for him to sink up to his waste. The goatee man threw up his hands in exasperation. “Of all clumsy fools in the word, you are the worst Darinthus!” Darinthus climbed up out of the sinkhole, his face showing his anger. “Well if ye hadn't hollered at me like ye did I wouldn't have felled in!” “Excuses, excuses. I'm tired of your constant excuses!” The goatee man waved off his companion's replies as if they were flies. A signal from Dijhar caught Agel's attention. The time had come. Sneaking forward, Agel readied his thick, short blade. He paused behind a small chunk of stone, the last cover between him and Ulandans, glancing back at Dijhar. The old cat nodded. Agel turned back and took a deep breath. With a single bound Agel leaped over the stone, uttering an earsplitting yowl, the trademark call of the Leander Guerrillas. The two Ulanders spun around, surprise written all over their faces, and brought their spears up to bear. Behind him Agel could hear Dijhar making enough racket to be mistaken for at least a dozen Guerrillas. The first Ulandan, Darinthus, made a clumsy thrust at Agel's neck. Agel easily sidestepped the spear and sliced at the man's torso, his well-sharpened blade sliding into a crack between two parts of the Ulandan's armor, and sinking into his side. The man doubled over in pain, whether real or imaginary, only to be pierced through the neck by one of Dijhar's arrows. Agel spun, just in time to dodge a thrust from the other Ulandan, bringing his blade down on the Ulandan's neck. The man crumpled, proof that Agel had hit his spine, just as Dijhar emerged from behind the stone block to dispatch of the Ulandan he had already taken down with his arrow. Agel delivered the death-blow and stood, panting, over his kill. Turning toward Dijhar, Agel prepared himself for the regular lecture that always accompanied their exploits, whether they be the killing of Ulandans, or the starting of a fire. Dijhar stared thoughtfully at the slain man lying next to Agel, his kill. “That one almost made a corpse of you. If you hadn't turned you back to him, you could have kept an eye on him, anticipate him. That yell also alerted them a second or two earlier then necessary. A few seconds can often mean the distance between life and death.” Agel nodded mutely, letting the words pass over his head. Dijhar abruptly turned and started back toward their campsite. Agel had to hurry to catch up with the older cat's fast lope. They remained silent as they traversed the swamplands, their current home. Agel allowed his mind to wander, let it bring his mind to memories of the past, and thoughts of the future. 'I wonder when we'll leave this God-forsaken marshland? Probably not until every single Ulander is annihilated, then we'll do the same somewhere else until we both make some fatal mistake... Yep. That's our life.' The build. So I'll just say it now, just in case your wondering, this build did eat up pretty much every single olive piece I own. All of my Olive. (Sorry, had to pull that one). Anywho, I hope you enjoyed the story, despite it's apparent complete lack of characterization. Just another character to use for different warzones. If I win, then I would like to have square D3 as the next warzone. Soli Deo Gloria & Sola Gracia! I would like to claim UoP credit for: Trees: my third technique. Geography: swamps.
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Raiding in the Grasslands Guerrilla build for the High Council against Ulandus, zone J14 Light cavalry from a desert nomad tribe loyal to the Kaliphlin High Council. They are patrolling and raiding in the grasslands west of Mpya Stedor. For each raid, the Ulandians are finding it harder and harder to keep control of the area. And a closeup shot, can you feel some of how vast the grasslands of Kaliphlin are? Not all of Kaliphlin is sand you know! For the Republic!
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Nestlands Ambush Warzone 3: "The Nestlands Insurgency", G15 Forces from Ulandus are patrolling the jungles of the Nestlands. Troops loyal to the High Council, armed with weapons from Mpya Stedor, have staged an ambush here. Their prey, a pair of Leander heavy infantrymen in the Ulandus army patrolling along a small stream has walked straight into the trap. The peace and quiet of the forest will soon break as sharp bolts pierce the shiny Ulandian armor and color the stream with Leander blood... My entry to Warzone 3: The Nestlands Insurgency in the Kaliphlin civil war. If I get a say in the matter by this build, I'd like D3 to be the next war zone. The picture above was an experiment with a different lighting orientation with a more localized light source at an angle to give more distinct shadows and having it look like sunlight. Below is a picture with my normal diffuse lighting. What do you think? Does the upper picture look more sunny or just weird? C&C are welcome!
