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Between Montario and Nova Terreli, a small range of hills surrounds the road. In the vicinity of these hills, several small streams cross the road, necessitating a large number of small bridges. At one of these bridges, on the Montario side, an ox cart has broken and lost a wheel. In the process, the cargo of barrelled ores has been scattered and the driver thrown down with an injured leg. This has created a chokepoint on the busy road, stopping several travellers in their path. Luckily for the injured driver, one of these travellers is a doctor of medicine, Sir Anton Hughes, fellow of the Royal Society of Natural Philosophy, and his assistant Ian Collins, carrying the medical supplies. Long since, Corlander scientists recognised the importance of physical exercise, especially for young assistants, and young Mr. Collins is getting his fair share working for Sir Hughes. The doctor is carrying out a year long voluntary medical service on la Strada Maxima, sponsored by the Royal Society. Such voluntary services has long been a tradition for medical gentlemen of the Society, and helps spread the knowledge of the organisation, as well as ensures the volunteer a wide experiences of diverse medical problems. Another hindered traveller is Amin Maleek, Tellvokian dye trader, and his trusty camel. Underway to Montario with a selection of fine dyes for the craftsmen of the Governorial seat, his is shocked by the hindrance. A few other travellers, including a farmer and his wife and son, are gathered around the bridge too, and hopefully the wheel will soon be repaired and the road open once more. ___________________________________________________________ An entry to the Strada Maxima minichallenge - I really want to pick up some shares!

Note: this freebuild follows my freebuild Destined to Hang, and takes place before my episode XIII entry Blunt Force Trauma. One of the first things soldiers learn is to grab shut-eye whenever possible, so I sleep during the short jump from Commenor to Kuat. The beeping of the nav computer wakes me, just before we drop out of hyper. Pilot: Have a nice nap? Kirana: Yes - - Give me one reason why I shouldn't broadcast a distress call saying I've been hijacked by a fugitive. Because you already know whoever's after me will kill you too, just to keep things quiet. Besides, I'm not a fugitive. I - Imperial Patrol vessel, this is Kuat System Control. Submit your ID and orders. KTC, this is system patrol 468-echo-73, coming in for minor repairs. Roger, patrol. Your transponder shows you currently assigned to Commenor – what are you doing out here? Uh-oh, I can picture his hand moving toward the 'scramble TIEs' option on his console. KTC, Commenor is correct, however my commanding officer ordered me to take the ship here for repairs. And why would he do that, patrol? KTC, my, uh, understanding is he was operating the vehicle when the damage occurred. … Oh. Oh. So you mean - She interrupts him, her voice a perfect imitation of the upper-class Coruscanti accent that officers often adopt. Ensign, how the ship was damaged is irrelevant. Your only concern is seeing that the repairs are completed quickly and discreetly. Smart. Tapping into the one experience that unites navy, army and stortrooper corps: getting screwed over by your superior officers. While she finishes talking our way into the system, I try to figure out who to contact. It's hard to know who to call when your own side is trying to kill you. I have a whole new understanding of Goatm's world. Right now, there are two people I trust. Captain Jackson Parth was my executive officer back when I was in the 142nd SpecOps group. He's a good man, and being a SpecOps officer often means knowing when to look the other way. Still, he's a career officer, and whatever 'they' are claiming I've done, it might be too big to ignore. That leaves 'Grace.' Probably not her real name. She's part of the ISB … the organization is suspect is trying to kill me. Not ideal, but she does owe me a favor... This is TB, calling the DID. The boss is mad, but I'm not sure why. Could use some advice. Out. Your codename is 'TB?' Nickname, not codename. Where are we headed? Cargo complex. Plenty of spots to disappear for a while and figure out what to do. Well, it's a bit of a fixer-upper, but I suppose it'll do for now. Ow! What the hell was that for?! You don't get it, do you? No, you just waltz into a system and wave around your spy credentials, demanding a ship and a pilot. I wasn't even supposed to be on duty today! And now, I'm stuck out here with a shot-up ship – which, I might add, was shot by our own people - Ok, calm down. No – you don't get to tell me to calm down. Why were Imperial ships shooting at us? I don't know. Oh, well, that's fine then. Yeah? No! Her hand moves back … toward her blaster?!? The rebel pilot pulls a blaster from beneath him, and I fire at point-blank range. His head explodes like an overripe meiloorun. Marla glares at me, pure hate in her eyes, as she picks up the blaster he dropped. There's no time to do anything. I aim my rifle as she raises the blaster toward me. My rifle?! Where is it?? I have to- Pain. Pain means I'm still alive. Damnit. She has my comlink... Grace: TB, you've been a very naughty boy. Yeah ... so I hear. Can you extract us? Yes, but I'll need you to do something for me first. I, uh, thought you owed me one? I did, and I just spent ten minutes convincing your lovely companion not to kill you or turn you in. Now we're even. You want something else, I have a job for you. Sounds like I don't have a choice. What is it? One of my … associates needs an operator and all his other assets are committed. He'll comm you the details. In the meantime, I've given your companion the coordinates of one of my safehouses. It's not far. No offense, Grace, but I'm not sure an ISB safehouse is the best place for us right now. I didn't say ISB safehouse, did I? You can take an air-taxi there - pay with hard credits only. Get moving, Grace out. I guess we - -don't speak to me. The details from Grace's associate come through a few minutes later. A simple job. He wants the same thing everyone wants. He wants me to take a life.

On its way, the Strada Maxima intersects with multiple smaller roads. These crossings naturally become centres of activity, and often taverns, stables, or small shops shoot up. At this particular junction in the middle of an agricultural area, something out of the ordinary is under construction. While most Eslandians worship nothing but profits, there are those who still maintain a degree of piety. And on top of that, many foreigners visiting Nellisa will be searching for a place of worship. Therefore, an unknown organisation rumoured to be of Olean origin is financing the construction of a temple at this intersection of the Strada Maxima and a smaller rural north-south road. It is right in the middle of the famous cotton fields of Nellisa, and the farmers are typically more pious than the city-dwellers. Already, light is on in the finished ground floor, where a priest is hosting the first ceremony, while workmen are hard at work erecting the towers that will lead weary travellers to this sanctuary. On the road this morning, we see an Eslandian official rushing past in his small carriage towards some surely very important rendezvous, a group of soldiers escorting a prisoner, a native woman with her child, and a trader, who earlier that day suffered an accident with a broken wheel. Besides the road, apart from the construction site, a young boy is rustling chickens, while a farmer tends his cotton. ___________________________________ Another entry for the Strada Maxima mini-challenge. Wanted to try out a small construction site for the subchallenge. I couldn't seem to get the light right, but on the upside, it looks a bit like sunset. C&C welcome.

King's Harbour was growing rapidly, and many of the soldiers, sailors and merchants had started bringing in their wives, and with their wives came their children as well. And while initially some of the kids, in highly un-Corlander fashion, enjoyed not having to go to school, the Royal Society of Natural Philosophy quickly remedied this. While the city administration donated a large plot of land in the planned residential areas, the Royal Society has constructed a large school building, and will be sponsoring it going forward. Ensuring education for the young is an important objective of the Society, to ensure that the scientists of tomorrow are groomed from a young age. Winston Fitzherbert the 3rd, fellow of the Society, will be schoolmaster for the children of King's Harbour, and his stern but fair teaching style is appreciated widely amongst both kids and parents. Just now, the kids are arriving for the first day of teaching, being welcomed by the schoolmaster and the groundskeeper. A few of the kids are running late, rushing not to be reprimanded by their new schoolmaster. On the first floor, the classroom is located. Below the classroom, a large library and study houses activities of more advanced students and fellows of the Society, and in the sidewing, an archive is to hold records and specimens collected by various expeditions for further study. Additionally, the groundskeeper has a small house by the gate, awarded for long services as assistant to a fellow of the Society. _____________________________________________________________ Large educational facility for King's Harbour, which will be licensed by the Royal Society of Natural Philosophy. C&C welcome.

My second entry into the Colossal Castle Contest XIV, for the Medieval Archery Tournament category. It was quite fun building all the angles and curves in this build, as well as trying to capture the elegance of Elvish architecture. The elves are renowned for their skill with the bow, and often hold archery tournaments to maintain their mastery. More pictures on Brickbuilt Thanks for looking, all C&C welcome

I thought the polar bear Chima figs fit well in Mitgardia, particularly the Frozen Beyond, so I built a ice/snow fortress for them. "Svellbjorn" means ice-bear in Norse. The corner stone technique was borrowed from Andrew JN. The Svellbjorn are natives of the Frozen Beyond in Mitgardia, though their tendency to rarely venture outside their territory keeps their existence relatively unknown. Some hunters are bringing in a shark. And a fun shot, with a bit of glare off the 'ice': There are a few more pictures on brickbuilt. I may do more with the Svellbjorn in the future, I imagine them to be enemies of the Algus. C&C welcome

Well then guys, the wait was long enough, but here we go! Please allow me to present my very first build for GoH as well as the first chapter of Laesonar’s * adventures: Unexpected Encounters [Part 1]. * For those who don’t know: this is my 5th MOC ever --> all C&C are most welcome! ^^ As for the MOC: I’m obviously working on landscape, especially terrain and trees. See more pics in my Flickr album: Encounters 1 UoP credits: I feel like I can claim credits for the ‘classical’ trees [the big ones with brown and tan trunk - Landscaping, Trees, only one type out of the 3 required]. On the other hand, I’m not satisfied with the design of those ‘fir’ trees, so any suggestions on how to improve them is encouraged. As for the photography/editing: it’s my first attempt at doing something more than just ‘taking a pic’. Comments will be most useful for me to learn (I’ve got no camera, just a Lumia phone) – if you feel like giving advice, do check all pics on Flickr, I’ve posted few questions there As for the story: again, it’s my first attempt and, being the first chapter, is a bit lengthy – I hope you enjoy anyways and I promise: next time it’ll be shorter Thanks for reading/watching! ^^ Laesonar - Episode 1 Unexpected Encounters – Part 1 “Nice and fresh, yes. Hmm, such nice and fresh air.. Really fresh.. How is it so fresh? I did close the window last night. What is.. ?!” Laesonar opened his eyes. He was laying down, supine. He could now see the green tree tops far above. Under his body, something vaguely soft, yet definitely not his bed. Some rustles, birds singing, the fresh air of a forest. “Where am I??” He sat up, looking around. Only few rays of sunlight were reaching down to the humid soil, cutting through the dense foliage of the tree tops. Up there, leaves and branches were fluttering gently in the morning breeze, while the air of the deep forest underneath was rather still, yet rather nice and fresh, indeed... “My, my.. Now what has happened this time? I remember going to bed last night in the tree house.. The wizard was smoking his pipe and I said Good Night..” He was worried: he looked around and listened harder. “Only my sleeping trousers. This confirms I was in bed after all.. But wait, my katanas are here? What on earth.. ??” He stood up, picked up the katanas and whirled them with a quick movement of the wrist – they were undoubtedly his own. Incredulous, he looked into the forest and felt lost. The sensation made him feel childish, to which he quickly reacted: “Well then, let me see. I have no idea where I am and no idea how I got here. Has my memory just got even worse? I do remember my training with the wizard, as well as the tree house with the garden, right in the middle of.. ? Oh great!” He couldn’t remember the name. He felt angry, becoming then resolute. “Very well then, not much I can do about it. So, this looks like a path, the moss indicates the North.. Hmm, I do feel a bit thirsty so first things first: let’s find a river or.. Hang on. Something is coming. Hmm.. two ‘something’, from two different directions. What could it be? A nymph perhaps? A nice forest maiden?” He smiled, passing a hand through his hair. He cleared his throat and listened harder: “Hmm, no ladies, I’m afraid. Three men instead, one is heavier than the other two. And what do we have this way? It’s faster, so it’s going to be here first. Oh my, horse hoofs, yet lighter than a horse.. could it be.. a goat?! Hang on, a goat.. on two legs?!” The thought amused him and his sense of adventure suddenly spiked – he felt serene now. He shook some leaves off himself, wielded his katanas and waited. He could see him now: a middle-aged faun armed with a tomahawk was walking quickly uphill towards him. Noticing Laesonar, the faun stopped for a moment and looked around quickly, then stared at him. He frowned, then smiled sarcastically, whirling his weapon and carrying on walking, just a little slower than before. Laesonar: “Smiling, uh? That’s the spirit! I mean, after all he’s just seen an armed half-naked half-elf all alone in the middle of a forest!” Again, he felt amused. “So, let’s see: an experienced fighter, quick and rather strong. I might even like the guy! Only.. Oh man he’s ugly.. !” Laesonar: “Good morning, good sir. I was wondering if you could please point me in the direction of a river, if it isn’t too much trouble.” The faun, smiling, nodding once in agreement: “Good morning to you. I happen to come exactly from a small river. Just follow the path. But please allow me a question: how do you happen to be in this area, this early in the morning?” Laesonar, nodding: “Now, THAT, good sir, is something I’d really like to know myself.” He replied, raising his eyebrow. The faun’s sarcastic smile turned into a sarcastic grin, to which Laesonar reacted by grinning in the same way, in amusement: “Yes, the guy definitely has the spirit!” However, he focused on the other approaching steps: he could now hear a light clang. Thus, he became serious. Laesonar: “Say, do you happen to know this area? Do you know whether small groups of armed men are in the habit of passing by?” The faun turned serious as well and frowned: “They do, actually. And to my knowledge, there’s none that I particularly like, I’m afraid.” They waited shortly: three armed men, displaying unknown heraldry, popped out right in the middle of the two from behind a big rock formation. They were all startled, and immediately unsheathed their weapons, bearing their teeth. Laesonar: “So, the big one is kind of strong, yet slow. The swordsman just average. As for the archer, he’s getting too close: he doesn’t have a clue.” The big man shouted: “Both of you, drop your weapons now and surrender!” Laesonar, looking up to the sky: “Surrender to what? And why? And who are you?” The big man shouted: “You lower creatures have no right to question anything at all! Drop your weapons now and none will be hurt!” Laesonar, getting irritated: “Lower creatures?! Someone is lacking respect here, which does not bode well for..” The big man interrupted him, still shouting: “You think you’re allowed to an opinion?? A half-goat and a bastard elf! Haha! What a joke! You will just serve as slaves.. ?” He couldn’t finish as Laesonar didn’t think about it twice. The archer had got too close - he jumped and slayed him with a single hit. He then jumped towards the swordsman, who tried to hit, but he dodged easily and beheaded him. The big man screamed and attacked with his heavy mace: Laesonar was right on time to use both katanas to block the hit right over his head, shaking slightly. Laesonar: “Well, he has strength after all.. Now let’s see if I can..” He saw something flying towards the man’s back, who screamed in pain and dropped dead. Laesonar managed to step aside right before the blood overflowing from the man’s mouth could touch him. The unidentified flying object was, indeed, the faun’s tomahawk – he was still standing in the same position. They looked at each other and smiled slightly. Laesonar: “Well, I didn’t think you’d do that.” The faun: “I could say the same.” Laesonar: “Eh, what can I say, I hate people when they’re not polite!” They grinned again at each other, in agreement. The faun approached and picked up his weapon. The faun: “I must say, your agility is rather impressive” He gave his hand to Laesonar: “My name is Ogrik.” Laesonar, shaking the faun’s hand: “Ogrik? Really? But you are no ogre.” Ogrik, chuckling: “Hehe, what can I say.. And you are.. ?” Laesonar: “Oh, how rude of me! My name’s Laesonar.” Ogrik, smiling: “Laesonar? Why? I mean, your enemies do have lesions after meeting you, I can tell. But you have no idea where we are, do you? So isn’t it rather you having a lesion? No offence meant..” Laesonar, smiling back: “None taken. And well, both, I suppose.” Ep. 2

Archery Practice Chapter I: The Tranquil Meadow Chapter II: Old Bagshaw's Residence Chapter III: The Poacher Chapter IV: Making Camp Chapter V: Solitary Council Chapter VI: Escaping Home Chapter VII: Waylaid Chapter VIII: Archery Practice Chapter IX: Honour the Fallen Bonus Landscape: Avalonian Countryside Averil trod through the forest, bow in her left hand and knapsack in her right. Dawn had just broken and the grass was still wet with dew. This was Averil's favorite time of day, when everything was quiet. Her hunting party would not meet up for another couple of hours, so she had some time to herself. Time she preferred to spend alone with her thoughts. Her thoughts and her bow. Before long she reached her usual practice spot. There was an archery range in town of course, but Averil preferred to be here, away from the noise and the people. She grabbed an apple from her knapsack and put it on the top of a small rock in front of a tree. It wasn't exactly the perfect target, but at least it wouldn't damage her arrows the way a wooden target would. - 'Perhaps I should swipe one of the straw targets from the range', she muttered to herself. It wasn't a very big distance, but then, the apple wasn't a very big target either. She was just here to warm up, not to push herself. Although she hunted daily it could sometimes go days without her taking a shot. That was not enough to keep up her skills with the bow. Practice was very much still a necessity. She nocked an arrow, aimed carefully, and released. Pieces of the apple flew as the arrow drilled straight through its core. Averil walked up to the tree and picked up the apple. She carefully removed the arrow and wiped the apple clean. - 'No point in letting you go to waste', she told the apple before taking a big bite of it. She sat down on the rock, savouring the silence just as much as her snack. However, the silence did not last long. Something stirred back on the path. Averil's grip on her bow tightened. It wasn't an animal, the movements were too rhythmic. A moment later she saw a man heading up the path towards her. It was Jarvis. Jarvis was the leader of her hunting team. He was old and had a weathered look, but he was by no means fragile. Not exactly a good shot, but an excellent tracker, lithe and knowledgeable. Averil liked the man, but him appearing here made her a bit suspicious. As Jarvis came closer he greeted her with a wave and a smile. She returned the greeting half-heartedly. - 'Enjoying your morning practice?', Jarvis asked as he came up to her. - 'Have to keep up my skills with the bow, sir', she replied hesitantly. Jarvis chuckled. - 'Do I look like a 'sir' to you? Well, no one can deny your skill with the bow, but why not come train with the others?' - 'Well, I enjoy practicing out here.' - 'I'm not asking this for your benefit, I'm asking for the benefit of everyone else. I'm sure you could help improve the bowmanship of the men, myself included. Why not come and help out?' - 'I'm not that good' - 'Hogwash!' Jarvis laughed. 'You do remember I handle the cadavers right? I don't think you've made a single shot that didn't pierce both lungs. And you don't get carried away like some of the others, you always wait for the broadside shot. I could probably send you alone into the forest and you would produce as much game as the rest of our team together. But I'm sure you've never hunted alone, right?', Jarvis said with a wink. Averil froze. Did he know about her poaching? - 'Relax, I don't care about your past', Jarvis continued. 'We all have them, and for most of us that is why we're here in this remote, upstart colony where anonymity comes easy.' - 'I... I don't belong here.' Jarvis chuckled. - 'You think any of us do? But you are here, right? And if you are not planning on leaving you might as well make what you can of the life you lead here. Help build this colony into something great. Not for lord dimwit's sake, but for all of us. Help keep everyone fed, and help keep your hunting fellows safe. Did you know the other hunting teams have all lost men over the past month?' Averil nodded. Out of the four teams, only theirs had not lost anyone to the forest, at least not since she joined. - 'You can help teach the men how to defend themselves against whatever is out there. Let go of your past and live your life here and now. People need you here. Won't you let them depend on you? Or are you going to continue living in your past?' Averil looked down. - 'I'm not sure I can do it.' - 'You won't know until you try. Why don't you come shoot with us?' Averil knew why she held on to her past. Because her father was still out there, somewhere, and she was still waiting for him to return. Even after more than five years she was still holding on to hope, and moving on with her life meant she was giving up on that hope. She didn't want to do it. She wanted all this to be temporary. She wanted to be his precious, mischievous daughter again. She wanted her family back. But Jarvis was right. That would never happen, even though she wanted it with all her heart. She had to live her life, like Gammy and Leeson were already doing. Maybe her feelings would subside in time? But yes, she wouldn't know until she tried. - 'Ok, I will go shoot with you', she replied. - 'Thank you. We really are quite a merry bunch, once you get to know us, you know?' As they went on their way, Averil paused and turned back towards the tree one more time. - 'Goodbye, father', she whispered to herself. *** So, this is the build I used for my tutorial on the axe tree technique, which is one of the reasons it has been so delayed (the other reason being that another little human being has joined our household ). I grossly underestimated how much work it is to put together a tutorial, but now it is finally finished, and I'm certainly happy about that If you're interested in how these types of trees are built, you can check out the tutorial here. Other than that, this was my first try at an irregular base, which made me realise that my arsenal of wedge plates is quite limited. It may not have been the best choice for such a thin build, but it was interesting trying it out. Thanks for watching, hope you enjoyed it! C & C always welcome

I had fun experimenting with the cross bracing below the platform, and trying to simulate hay bales around the targets Even in the snow, Mitgardian archers continue their practice. There are a few more pictures on brickbuilt. Your comments and suggestions are always welcome, I should be posting the second phase fairly soon

Prior Build: Concerns in the Ministries The situation in New Terra is developing by the hour, and the diplomatic services of Corrington are busily trying to keep ahead of things, continually preparing and adjusting the proper response. Recent developments has even prompted Corrington to put old differences aside and reach out to old enemies to ensure that order and law rule in the Brick Seas. Hence, representatives of different government branches have met with an Olean diplomat to send off a small delegation towards Granoleon with all possible haste in the dark of night. Only time will show what will come of this...

Guy K. Wyndzon sat in an easy posture, with one elbow on the table supporting his head as he thumbed through the latest mail. Presently he yawned vociferously. It really was beginning to seem as though nothing ever happened around here! There was a sudden bustle at the door; Guy recognized the well-known thump of his Uncle’s staff, and the next instant heard his gruff tones saluting him. “Oh, I’m doing pretty well, Uncle. And yourself?” “Very poorly! Incredibly poorly! Insufferably poorly!” “Why, Uncle! Whatever has happened? You’ve never been sick a day in your life!” “Humph!” “Oh!” Guy laughed lightly. “I see what it is. Haven’t got a chance for any hangings in a while, have you?” “No, I haven’t, but that’s not the half of it!” “What else, Uncle? Let me think… ohh… you’ve not got anything against MAESTRO, I hope? They’ve been so active, you know, with this new settlement! Really, I think that all our disagreements are being worked out quite effectively! Haven’t I said it all along? – just show us a common foe, and we’ll be united tout suite!” Uncle frowned portentously. “I wish you wouldn’t use such barbarous words. They sound Oleonish!” Guy laughed. “Uncle, Uncle, surely you aren’t becoming a bigoted blue-hater, as you’ve so often called the worthy Captain Argentum!” Captain Argentum, of the Filo Morado, owns a tremendous reputation for antioleonism. “Most assuredly not.” “Well, to return to the point, if it’s not MAESTRO that’s bothering you, what is?” Another frown; Uncle’s voice was very stern as he rejoined, “How often must I tell you that I refuse to hear maestro capitalized any longer in my presence!” Guy raised his eyebrows in amused surprise. “Why, Uncle, however can you hear me capitalize MAES… maestro?” “There!” he retorted triumphantly. “Can’t you hear it yourself?” “Well… waiving the point for the present, I see that it really is MAES – um – tro – that’s bothering you. But whatever for, Uncle? Surely we’ve gotten over our petty disagreements, whatever they were. For my part, I can hardly even recall them!” “You can’t, can you?!?! Well! I’ll just marshal them before you, parade them right on, forward, turn about! They owe their existence solely to the bounty of the King, yet they treat it as a right! Not only that, but they have a right to claim their own islands! And they consider it an insult to have not yet been recognized! And…” “But in fact, Uncle, that one has quite vanished – you know that in my capacity as Secretary of State I decided that it was an immaterial point and might as well be handed over, so they’ve been recogni…” “Which is by far the worst of it! You countenance them! I’m ashamed of you, Sir! You, one of the merchant princes of the earth, to bring yourself down so far as to recognize a paltry group of little traders!” “Now there, Uncle, I really must take objection at that. Lord Damaximus is one of the…” “Not another word!” Uncle positively roared. “I won’t have his name mentioned in my presence!” “Really, Uncle… I can’t say you’re being quite reasonable about all this…” “Oh! You can’t say! And what of their studied insinuation that the MCTC works exclusively in its own interest without regards to the nation, and more than that, that we were spying upon them. Spying! As if we cared one jot or tittle about their doings! As if we would ever condescend to notice them in such a fashion!!!” Guy’s face flushed slightly. “Yes, yes, that was really too bad of them… but, I don’t think it was a studied insinuation, Uncle.” He went on with a twinkle in his eye, “You say that they’re a paltry group of little traders, and then you expect them to be expertly careful in speech?” “Humph! Well, at least, I’m glad you agree with me there.” “Nothing of the kind, Uncle! At least, I haven’t said anything of the kind, and don’t intend to say it. I have great respect for MAESTRO’s – my apologies, I won’t forget again – for maestro’s members, and though of course you can’t expect me to always agree with their business policy, that’s not my concern – I’ve quite enough to do with managing the MCTC! Besides, you’ve forgotten that all this is an old tale already! What of their excellent service in the building up of Fuerte Unido?” “What of that, indeed! We need none of this insanity of working together, I tell you! Each of us can do ten times as much separately.” “I could point out an inconsistency there, at least, Uncle – what need of the MCTC, in that case?” “Hold your peace, idle boy! I was about to say, I’m sick and tired of it all. We should be sending out our ships to attack Mardier, not building up little settlements in the hopes that they’ll be nice enough to let us stay. And we should be each paying attention to our own affairs, not meddling around in this sharing and working together business! And in proof of what I say, I’m off!” “Off!” cried Guy, for the first time really alarmed. “Off! You can’t mean that, of course, Uncle! Why, we’d all go to pieces without you, I’m sure, and wherever would you go?” “Go? I haven’t quite settled it yet – must talk it over with Elaine – but I tell you, I’ve got quite a mind to become an independent rover! And if you go to pieces, why, that’s just what I want!” “A independent rover! A Sea Rat?!? Now you are jesting, Uncle.” “Well, I believe I am, but I’m serious enough about going. I’ll not stay another day in this new palace of brotherly harmony you and your cronies in… in… maestro have set up. Good-bye!” And so saying, he sprang to his feet, seized his cane, and thumped out of the room. For several seconds Guy stood rooted to the floor with astonishment and consternation. “Going! Really going!” He ran his fingers through his unruly hair. Then he sprang up suddenly and dashed out after his Uncle. “Uncle, Uncle! When will I see you again?!?” “When you least expect it, I dare say, nephew,” he replied grimly. And with a parting handshake he was on his way. “Don’t you worry, Mister Guy, he’ll be back.” The servant chuckled a bit. “He’s like a bad penny, you know. Allers turnin’ up!” ---- Well, I'm glad to bring Uncle back for a bit even if it did result in his running off... he's been awfully quiet for a while! Also I wanted to try out another one of my rafter sort of roofs... I like the way they turn out, but C&C is welcome as always! Oh, and, last but not least, Guy's Uncle's sentiments are totally in character and do not agree with my own.

My latest free-build for Kaliphlin, and also an entry for Classic-Castle's Flag of Your Kingdom Contest. The ostrich rider design was borrowed from Kayne. I would like to claim UoP credit for: General Building, Minifig Posing. The Duke of Ferrari is well known for his annual Desert Run 5000 and the competition is stiff this year. Ferrari’s representative is in the lead, while the ostrich and camel rider are not far behind! The mummy with his scorpion chariot, however, is a full lap behind the rest of the competitors. There are more pictures on brickbuilt. Thanks for looking, your comments and suggestions are always appreciated

In one of the numerous ministry buildings in Belson, heavy issue were on the agenda. Representatives of the Royal Navy, her Majesty's Armed Forces, the Foreign Ministry, and the Crown convened to discuss current events and the proper Corlander response. The building was a rather grandiose palazzo in the modern style, with an imposing, elaborate façade, facing one of the larger streets of Belson. Few knew exactly what was going on inside this building, or what ministry it was related to, but at all times, two soldiers were stationed outside, guarding the entrance and only letting in those with an explicit invitation, suggesting that confidential matters might be involved. Right at this moment, such a guest was arriving, donning the official uniform of the Eslandian armed forces. Oddly enough, inside a representative of Oleon had also just arrived, and was being welcome by an assistant at the door. What matters might require the presence of both Eslandian and Olean representatives? Upstairs, an answer was to be found. A rear-admiral was expressing concerns about developments in the naval balance of power. "…but with the newly despatched Man-of-war the Triton adding to the existing forces including the HRS Tigre, the Royal Navy can no longer be expected to counter a possible aggression from Oleon. Not without further commitment of forces." All around, the officials were nodding, and the rear-admiral continued: "And Eslandian fleets leave us in a similar predicament. Especially Maestro is in possession of considerable forces, amongst those the Margot. To that, we can add the multitude of privateers and minor powers, attacking our trade…" Her Majesty's representative interjected: "But did not the pirate purge sweep up a great many pirates?" "Indeed, my lord, but despite continuous joint efforts, privateers seem to reappear as swiftly as we can catch them." The general took the word. "I too have ill-tidings. Word has just reached us that Eslandola seems to have invaded Isla de Victoria..." An elderly gentleman in black from the Foreign Ministry cried out in shock: "Oh dear. Although they are nominally at war with Mardier, we were not expecting them to commit to actual fighting! I doubt Mardier will allow such an incursion. And what of the shift in the balance of power in New Terra? What colonies will be next?" "Perhaps King Fernando-Augusto is so confident that his treasure fleets will fill his coffers for war?" the Royal representative suggested. "Bah! Their negligence in keeping its movements confidential means that any tub that floats will be out there hunting the prize of the century," said the admiral, shaking his head. "So be it. Considering their positions in our current diplomatic negotiations, we cannot intervene to their advantage. And should they persist in their efforts to unlawfully claim land in New Terra, we must consider diplomatic action," declared the man in black, followed by nods all around. "The Crown has come to the understanding that we may see improvements in our relations to Oleon? Are the negotiations proceeding as planned?" the Royal Representative asked. "Nothing is certain, but the tides might be changing..." was the ominous answer. And so the discussion went on, only interrupted by short interviews with the Olean and Eslandian representatives, and one can only speculate as to the outcome. It was indeed a turbulent time... ________________________________________________________________________________ Felt like building a palace style building, and with the recent developments in New Terra, I was handed a perfect use for it, as I feel that these needed comment. Know that Corrington watches closely the balance of power in New Terra, and expects anyone to answer to their actions! And note that the things discussed by these officials are not necessarily the official stance of Corrington, but definitely represents our valid concerns... C&C is, as always welcome.

- Good job Gang! We finally captured her! - said the blonde swordmaster, to his gang gladly. - Jeepers Dred! - wonders the elf sorcerer. - Selma was right. We don't need a huge difficult trap, to capture her. A simple bear trap was very effective. - Zoinks! Yeah! - said the bard. - And you wanted to be the prey once more, Right Doob? - Woof! - barked his loyal companion. * - Enough talk. - Dred ended the conservation, about his unsuccessful traping plan. - Let's see who really is Queen Ylsphet! With that, he grabbed the hair, and pulled. Surprisingly it came off very easy, with the rest of the mask. - Jinkies! - the dwarf girl almost dropped the torch. - Lord Raavage? - the gang was surprised when they saw him. - No you fools! I'm his brother, Ravaage! And I would have gotten away with it too, if it weren't for you meddling kids!

The Tales of Lady Gwenllian 9. Prenmôr Forge One of the most important buildings in Prenmôr was the smithy. It was to be the first permanent structure in the castle, as a blacksmith was needed to prepare (and repair) nails, tools, weapons, and other miscellaneous steel and iron items. The need for a forge was immediate, so it was built with the first load of stone from the quarries and had little decoration. The initial stone from the quarries was irregular and contained smaller pieces than would eventually be used for the castle walls, so the blacksmith shop had a distinct appearance. It was intentionally located in what would become the inner ward for security and to ensure a steady supply of weapons and armor should the castle come under attack. Fire was always a concern in the confined space of a castle, so the smithy was made from stone, located near the well for a supply of water, and placed apart from the residential structures. To further mitigate fire risk, Lady Gwenllian purchased expensive slate from a nearby dwarven mine for the roof. The smithy's distinct appearance was not just due to its stone: the roof sloped one direction and only two small windows appeared in the side walls. Since the back of the smithy would eventually become part of the inner curtain a vaulted roof was unnecessary, and since the windows would eventually face the gatehouse and the inner curtain walls, their use as light sources was limited. Thus, two lanterns were hung inside the smithy to supplement the lighting. Lady Gwenllian and Lady Seren planned for the future by designing a forge large enough for a master smith that they hoped to eventually attract to the site. Despite being large, the forge had enough conveniences (such as a bellows with a pull chain) so that a single blacksmith could work alone if need be. A large horizontal window at the front doubled as a work counter, let in most of the light and fresh air, and provided an exit for the heat of the forge during warm months. This window was closed by a large wooden shutter that could be kept closed at night and in the winter. A stone shelf near the forge contained charcoal fuel, and several log rounds would hold work, tools, and the all-important anvil. A huge bellows would blow air into the forge to keep the coals hot enough for steel. Iron bloom, wrought iron rods, and steel stock were kept in crates and barrels around the room. Outside, barrels collected rain water runoff from the roof to supplement the water supply in the forge. A small bucket of water was located in the forge for immediate use. Lady Gwenllian’s blacksmith was none other than Sven, one of her family's blacksmiths from back in Albers. Sven had been raised in Mitgardia, where he fought and sailed, but had also apprenticed for a few years to a dwarven blacksmith. Sven was not a master of the forge, but his nails, horseshoes, and various tools were functional. His apprenticeship had taught him to let form follow function, and though his work was not always pretty, it could withstand quite a bit of abuse. At the beginning of the summer, the forge fired up for the first time. Raw iron bloom was smelted in a makeshift clay brick furnace in the yard, then stored in piles in the smithy. Sven wrought this sponge iron and stored it as bars and plates for tools, weapons, and armor. The initial pieces consisted mostly of nails and a few repairs on plows, picks, and shovels, none of which taxed the capacity of the huge smithy. Sven set up a cot in the back of the forge that became his temporary home until the permanent apartments were built, which was just fine with him, as he was the oldest of the household and was pleased to sleep in warm, a water-tight building. After watching Sven at work, Lady Seren’s daughter, Alis, became interested in smithing, and with Lady Seren's permission, Sven took her on as his apprentice. She worked the bellows, fed the fire, collected charcoal, fetched water, and practiced working on scraps of iron and steel as Sven handled the main load of work. By mid-summer, Alis had made great progress and was helping make nails, while Sven was starting to make more tools and even a few spearheads for rudimentary defense. Being more sociable, Alis also routinely dealt with customers, which greatly improved the relations between the workers and the somewhat curmudgeonly Sven. Particularly with the more unruly customers.

*Your entry has earned 3 XP* Dreighton, a sandy ball of rock with nothing to offer but Clawmice, Sand-leeches and an abundance of minerals. Located in one corner of the infamous 'Dreighton Triangle', it is a place avoided by most, for fear of ghost ships and mysterious disappearances. The Galactic Empire, however, is not as superstitious. It has constructed a massive mining complex on the planet, with tunnels kilometers long. It is here our heroes have taken a pit-stop, closer to their location than Imdaar. Here, they are negotiating with the requisitions officer to acquire much-needed building materials for their base. Arias, more at home with other troopers than in the murky field of logistics and politics, strikes up a conversation with the Sandtrooper guards outside one of the many base entrances. A former Scout Trooper himself, he befriends the Stormtroopers and ensures that they have allies on the ground, should they ever need to come back. As they talk, a 11-3K Viper Sentry Droid stands guard, its two heavy blasters at the ready. Inside, Ruby negotiates with the surly requisitions officer. She has a valid requisition order, but she's after some supplies not listed on it - supplies that will increase their odds of survival on the planet to which they've been assigned. The two haggle for some time - the officer is unwilling to accept Ruby's explanation of 'the mission is classified' and she's unwilling to divulge classified information. Eventually, though, they are able to come to a mutually beneficial arrangement. It turns out that requisitions officers aren't paid too well, so Ruby makes a kind donation to the requisitions officer break room, so they can install a dejarik board. \ With the supplies secured and negotiations complete, the two set off back to the Strix - with the newly acquired Sentry Droid in tow! BEHIND THE SCENES: Continuing the story of Arias and Ruby, we head to one of the worlds of the Dreighton Triangle - the planet Dreighton itself. A sandy mining world that appeared in Rebel Assault II, the planet was perfect for the sand challenge (especially since I had managed to scavenge more sand-coloured parts, and had more confidence). In this diorama, the crew gather supplies and allies before setting off for the destination of their base. The build was too small to fit the Strix in anywhere, so it's off-screen today. I enjoyed trying to do what I could with the little sand parts I had (this was basically my entire sand collection). My favourite part by far is the little cave I made for the sand scorpion! Greebling the wall for the mine was an interesting challenge - I still struggle with greebling, so I'm trying to work on it a bit. I decided early on I wanted some outflow pipes and some stained sand nearby - evidence of the Empire's short-sighted policies polluting the planet. I used dark tan tiles to show that the sand around the base had been permanently stained. The doors do work - they're not pretty, but they do work. At the time I made this, I already had put aside a fair chunk of my parts for the base Ruby will build, so it was interesting seeing what I could do with what was left over. The inside, I wanted to make look drab and utilitarian - it's full of storage lockers, crates and ventilation ducts (to whisk the sand back out, I imagine). It is a crossroads, with a large vehicle access straight through, and a smaller personnel corridor off to one side. On the other, we have our grumpy requisitions lad and his cramped, uncomfortable office. You can just barely make out that the room ends in a doorway behind him in his pic above - leading to the break room off-screen. Overall, I feel a lot better about this build than I do the previous one. The storytelling is better in the Sand and Deliver build, but the actual construction of this one, to my eye, looks much better - and the hill looks better than the previous one, too! Thanks all for taking the time to read this. I hope you're enjoying the little adventure our characters are on here. The next one isn't going to be for quite some time - I have to make a temperate forest, and I have almost no green parts at all! Acquiring them will take time :) Time I'll use to learn some decent foilage techniques, methinks. And no, this droid isn't going in the Factions III contest either. Not creative enough. I've left a little clue as to what I WILL be entering here. The parts are coming. Stay tuned.

*Your entry has earned 3 XP* -Admiral Sarn (Disguised) The two officers took the time to pack their things and have them (and a requisition order for supplies) transferred to the hangar, before they headed down there themselves. They were greeted by what looked like a half-dissected, misshapen egg and a ground crew officer in full gear. The three made short work of the loading process, with the help of the two astromech droids Ruby had requisitioned for the construction process. Though she'd have liked something bigger, possibly one of the 00-99 Imperial Orbital Load Lifters, none were currently available. No matter, one was on back-order. The two pilots were rather impressed with the room the container could hold - two large weapon crates, ten supply crates, four fuel crates and four MSE-6 droids, also boxed up. Sadly, it wasn't designed with passengers in mind, and mag-sealing two chairs down meant offloading some of the supplies. The two, although excellent pilots, knew that if they were in the hold, it meant the shuttle would be leaving without them. As the loading ladders were retracted and the cargo doors swung closed, they started to discuss plans for establishing a perimeter and maximizing their chances of success. They quickly reached an agreement - they were going to need more supplies than this, and Ruby knew exactly where to get them. As they talked, the speaker built into the hold flared to life. The procedure went smoothly. The shuttle used repulsorlifts to position itself over the detachable cargo container, then clamped the two halves together. A recent improvement, it allowed for rapid deployment of troops and vehicles without risking damage to the shuttle or pilots. The Strix was one of the first production run of the updated Sentinel-Class design. In under a minute, the ship was locked, loaded and ready to fly. BEHIND THE SCENES! Hi all! I am pleased to present the flagship for Arias and Ruby's adventures in the Dantus Sector - the Strix. A Sentinel-Class shuttle, she is built from the parts of the two sets that Lego has produced for this ship. Despite being outwardly very similar in appearance, her insides have been completely redesigned! The cockpit has been modified (inspired by the Tydirium Lego kit) to (barely) accommodate two pilots, so that eventually both Arias and Ruby can fly it together. The cargo bay has been completely hollowed out, with attachment points for various kinds of cargo (and passengers if needed), and has been made completely detachable from the main body of the shuttle! This in particular was difficult and time consuming to figure out. However, the end result is sturdy - you can actually just straight out drop the cargo bay from the shuttle onto the battlefield, and it'll take it! Redesigning the cockpit structure to not rely on the cargo bay for support was an interesting experiment, and one that took a fair bit of time. However, I am pleased with the result. The wings have also been modified so that it can include the classic 'bent wing' design of the nucanon Sentinel and Lambda-Class. This is intended to be a hybrid of both the legends and canon version. There are some parts I'm not 100% happy with yet. The side wings have way too many studs on a design that almost completely hides all the studs on the ship - that's something I intend to redesign, possibly by making the wings a SNOT design similar to the top fin (which needs a little reinforcing, once I get the funds). Overall, though, the build is durable, swooshable, and packed with play features. I'll continue to update it over time, and eventually I plan to upscale it (to approximately the size of the UCS shuttle), but for now it is a fine transport for our character's adventures. The locking system is super simple - the two bricks with the brown bits hanging out? Just pull them out, and the entire top section can fly off freely. Stick them back in, and the container is locked in tight. I took inspiration from the Lego City's Volcano Heavy Lift Helicopter for this mechanism, though mine isn't quite as elegant. I'm still learning, I'll get there :) The one thing that has confounded me, and I can see no solution to, is a separate landing gear for the shuttle without the cargo bay. Due to the shape of the ship, it's not really something I can work in seamlessly. I've decided to leave it for now - in-story, the ship simply relies on repulsorlifts (like a Landspeeder) when it is parked. Thank you for taking the time to view my little creation - I'm happy with how it turned out. I'll update this thread with any modifications/changes I make to the build. Next stop - the sands of Imdaar!

The Tales of Lady Gwenllian 8. Ambassador Gisela Due to the recent attempt on his son’s life, Staffen Conzaga decided to send his children away from him for their safety, choosing a different location across Historica for each. Distrustful and crafty by nature, Staffen sent false ‘official’ word of the locations and travel plans of each of his children ahead of them to confuse potential attacks. Only his daughter Gisela stayed behind in Varlyrio, but even this was a ruse. After a few weeks at home, Gisela set off to attend a concert of one of her favorite Nocturnian bands who were playing a show in Avalonia. She traveled light, and by all appearances, she was only going to be away for a few days. However, Staffen had secretly met with Gisela and her bodyguard Mohatu, directing them to attend the heavily guarded concert and connect with the many lords in attendance to secure a safe location for Gisela to reside while Staffen ruthlessly hunted down the source of the attack. Gisela was annoyed: she did not fear assassins and felt that she could take care of herself. She was not about to disobey her father when he was so furious, but she had little intention of begging some foreign lord for shelter while her family was under attack. Thus, she saw an opportunity to go to a concert, have some fun, and return home ‘unsuccessful’. She took one of her father’s nicer ships (loaded with all the comforts of home) across the sea, accompanied by her bodyguard Mohatu and several servants. Her ship anchored in the mouth of the Afondraig Riverat the fledgling rural community of Prenmôr and here she had attended a concert of The Rolling Bones. The concert was heavily guarded due to the number of nobles in attendance, and had drawn a huge crowd from across all the guilds. Gisela had enjoyed herself and the music, happy to be anonymous for a night, lost in the crowd. She hadn’t made a great effort to meet with the lords and ladies as she was more interested in listening to the music. The few she had met were from impoverished communities in Avalonia, the frozen wasteland of Mitgardia, or the desolate sands of Kaliphlin, none of which were appealing to her. At the conclusion of the concert, when Gisela had searched for accommodations for the night, she had found that this area was terribly underdeveloped, without a single inn or tavern yet. Faced with the unappealing choice of demanding shelter of some dirty peasant family or spending the night on her ship moored in the river, she chose the latter. In the morning, she had a mind to set sail back home, but, being the astute politician, had thought the better of it and decided to meet the local lord of this new community. Although she had no interest in asking the lord for a place to live, she had learned at an early age that it paid to make as many connections as possible, particularly among the nobility, in the case there was an advantage to be had. After all, this lord had put on the concert, so it was possible he was better connected than one could assume. After the servants had rowed Gisela and Mohatu to shore in the ship’s dinghy, Gisela had to make her way through the unseemly campsites of the peasantry who had attended the previous night’s concert, being careful not to dirty her skirt. Inquiring where the local lord might be, she had been directed to some temporary housing on the large elevated rock outcropping that overlooked the ocean, river, and the fields below. Without a carriage, and without a nice, paved Varlyrian street, she was beginning to regret her decision to make the climb when she finally reached the top. Several neat wattle and daub, timber-framed, thatched-roofed houses, surrounded by roughly hewn wooden fences, sat in a disorganized fashion near a well. Filthy peasants were delivering stone from a nearby quarry to new foundation footings being set for structures of some sort. Gisela set aside her distaste for the rough living conditions and made her way to the largest of the houses that bore the green flags of Avalonia, assuming that belonged to the lord. A little peasant girl in some low-cost clothing was on the side of the house feeding chickens, and a few soldiers were in a side yard practicing at swordplay. She bade Mohatu knock on the door, which he did without complaint. He stepped back, resting a paw on his sword hilt while keeping one eye on the door and the other on the soldiers to his right. A moment later, the door swung open, and a rather pleasant lady greeted them. She wore the green colors of her Avalonian lord, but Gisela was a little taken aback that she was wearing pants rather than the more proper skirt or dress. She hid her surprise well as the lady addressed her. “Well met, m’lady,” she said in slightly accented Avalonian speech. “What brings you here this fine morning?” Gisela ignored the unrefined direct manner of the lady, replying with a polite Varlyrian greeting. “I bid you a good morning. I am Lady Gisela Conzaga of Varlyrio, and I seek the lord of this house. Is he home?” The lady seemed amused at this notion. “Indeed m’lady, there is no lord of this house, but a lady, and she is here.” She gestured with an open hand to the two soldiers at practice. Gisela directed her attention to the soldiers practicing melee in the soft earth that doubled as a pig pen and quickly understood, surprised yet again. With their helms and armor on, she had a hard time deducing which one was the lady of the house, as both wielded their arms with terrific skill and force. The woman in the doorway led Gisela and Mohatu across the yard to the edge of the pig pen’s fence. “M’lady Gwenllian!” she called out, and the fighting stopped. “Lady Gisela Conzaga of Varlyrio is here to see you!” Both combatants walked over to toward Gisela. The taller of the two wore full plate armor with a visored helm and wielded a hand-and-a-half bastard sword in a single hand like it was a matchstick. The other more slight individual wore a closed helm with scale mail under a green Avalonian tabard and carried a mace. Gisela assumed the latter was the lady of the house due to her stature, but it was the other who sheathed the massive sword and strode forward to the fence, shooing a pig out of the way with a gentle shove of the foot. With practiced hands, the helm was quickly unlaced and Gisela was confused when a cascade of long, dark red hair flowed out of the helm as it was removed, to reveal a sweaty, smiling face of a woman in her mid 30s. Tucking her helmet under her left arm, she removed her gauntlet and glove, pushed some wet red hair out of her eyes, and extended her hand to Gisela in a warrior’s greeting. “Well met, Lady Gisela,” she said with the same slight accent as the other woman. “I am Lady Gwenllian. I see you have already met my Lady-at-arms, Lady Seren.” The usually unflappable Gisela actually hesitated a moment from shock, and started to curtsey before realizing that she had best return the greeting offered her. She took Lady Gwenllian’s hand to shake as she had seen her father’s warriors do many times before. She immediately noticed the feel of Lady Gwenllian’s hands: they were callused and incredibly strong, like the hands of a smith or a soldier, having obviously known hard work, and were not the smooth hands of nobility she was so used to. She sensed Mohatu stiffen ever so slightly to her side, not entirely sure of this strange and potentially dangerous woman. If Lady Gwenllian was at all distressed by an armed lionel standing before her, she didn’t show it. Gisela had always been tall for a woman, taller even than some of the male soldiers of her family’s home, but Lady Gwenllian matched her every inch and then some, standing several inches over six feet, with broad, squared shoulders and a muscular frame. She looked imposing in full plate armor, but her rather plain face and inviting smile put Gisela at ease and she quickly regained her senses. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Gwenllian,” Gisela began formally. The handshake ended and Lady Gwenllian smiled as she continued. “I am of the house Conzaga from across the sea in Varlyrio. I attended the concert last night and wished to meet the lord of these lands before I departed.” Pausing a second, she added, “The concert was quite lovely, and I greatly appreciated all of your effort in sponsoring such a lavish event.” Lady Gwenllian held her hand up. “I am glad to meet you, but I cannot take credit for the hard work of my household and the villagers that put up the stage and trappings you see below.” Just when she didn’t think that she could be more surprised, Gisela was. Here this noblewoman was giving credit to peasants? For labor they were supposed to be doing anyway? What? “How generous of you,” she offered. “I’m sure that you had many hours of planning involved." Lady Gwenllian smiled again. “Your compliments are what is generous,” she said with a laugh. “How about some tea? May I offer you a drink and a place to sit while we talk a bit?” She gestured to her house. “Thank you, I would be honored,” Gisela replied. She followed Lady Seren as Lady Gwenllian clanked into the house in her armor. Inside, the home was neat and tidy, or at least as much as a dwelling with a packed dirt floor and an open thatched roof could be. She found herself somewhat put off by this sparse, rural dwelling. The two-story house had a fire pit on the bottom level that fed heat into the upper level by means of a hole in the floor above that formed a sort of balcony. Lady Gwenllian led Gisela upstairs, which had a wooden floor, and offered her a chair while she doffed her armor on a stand near her bed. Gisela wrinkled her nose as she carefully wiped the chair off with a handkerchief before sitting. Mohatu took a post not far behind her, standing. “What’s your family business?” asked Lady Gwenllian rather bluntly, as she looked at Gisela over her shoulder while continuing to remove portions of her armor. “We are vintners, growing some of the highest quality grapes and fermenting some of the best wine in Varlyrio,” Gisela replied. “Very nice,” replied Lady Gwenllian. “I am originally from Albers, and my family were brewers.” Suddenly, everything was clear to Gisela. She remembered hearing of the land of Albers, far to the north of Varlyrio and west of Avalonia, across the sea. She recalled that Albers was a matriarchy, with families ruled and inherited by the first-born woman. She had always been fascinated with tales of this land as a small girl, wondering what it would be like to have the kind of power and respect her father and brothers did. She never thought anything past it being just a fantasy, however, and had forgotten about it as she grew up. The revelation that here, in front of her, was a real-life example of her childhood imagination was exciting: an intelligent, confidant, and capable lady who was completely oblivious to the male-dominated culture that she was now a part of. Gisela’s disgust with the backward, dirty village and home was temporarily lost as her interest was now piqued: this was no widow of some male lord, holding down the household until another man came along to marry her, as Gisela had assumed. No, this was the noble in charge around here, and it opened many new possibilities in Gisela’s mind. “We have not yet had a harvest,” Lady Gwenllian continued as she sat down across from Gisela, wearing her sweat-soaked dark green tunic and heavy breeches. Lady Gwenllian leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs as Gisela had seen her father do so many times before, but rather than seeing his fancy shoes, she saw a muddy leather riding boot crossed on Lady Gwenllian’s other knee. “But we hope that our first will offer enough wheat, hops, and oats to brew some ales and lagers this winter. One of our first priorities is our brewery, after we finish the forge for our blacksmith, of course." The same small peasant girl Gisela had seen feeding the chickens earlier arrived with some tea as Lady Seren joined Gisela and Lady Gwenllian. Gisela then understood that Lady Seren was not a servant, but a minor noble of sorts herself, as the Lady at Arms and seneschal of Lady Gwenllian’s household. The serving girl then interacted with Lady Seren in a way that made Gisela realize that she was not a serving girl at all, but the daughter of Lady Seren herself. This household was full of surprises! The conversation devolved into some discussion of the Conzaga family fermentation process, something with which Gisela was familiar but by no means an expert, so she confidently fabricated the details she didn’t know. When Lady Gwenllian began explaining the brewing process (which Gisela really couldn’t care less about), Gisela was more interested in the plain and direct manner with which Lady Gwenllian spoke. It was clear to Gisela that there was a great opportunity here: Lady Gwenllian would be underestimated by almost all the men who met her. Combine an underestimation of Lady Gwenllian’s ability with an adversary’s overconfidence and it would spell disaster for anyone who opposed her, and by extension, be a boon for those allied with her. For her part, Lady Gwenllian was similarly impressed with Gisela. She had been happy that a young lady had the temerity to approach her without a man (even if she was wearing a dress), something that had not yet happened since she had arrived in Avalonia. Listening to Gisela describe her family’s business, Lady Gwenllian realized that Gisela was extremely socially adept and that she was likely very good at something Lady Gwenllian was terrible at: politics. Lady Gwenllian’s direct nature, while beloved by the peasants of her land, had not been particularly well-suited for the court in Albers, relegating Lady Gwenllian’s family role to more physical activities like swordplay and jousting while her mother and sisters played political games. With the rest of her family having been murdered in Albers, Lady Gwenllian was now on her own and her household had a need for a shrewd politician. She thought that Gisela might be a great liaison for the neighboring tribes, communities, and fiefdoms, so she tried to steer the conversation in a direction to interest Gisela into staying. Little did she know that Gisela was already thinking along the same lines. “It’s not much now, but we have some designs on turning Prenmôr into a thriving community and a strong outpost. Lady Seren has already drawn up plans for the castle itself, along with some sketches for the surrounding lands.” She turned to Lady Seren. “Lady Seren, if you could please bring the parchments, I would like to show Lady Gisela the construction that is underway.” Their tea finished, Lady Seren rose to collect the plans, and Lady Gwenllian tossed a chain shirt over her tabard, fastening it with a belt. She led Gisela and Mohatu downstairs and outside. Lady Gwenllian motioned to the man she had been training with, who was sweeping up. “Chwyd, go fetch my sword,” she directed him. The man diligently scurried off without complaint. Gisela smiled to herself at the thought of male servants carrying out her every whim. “I prefer to be prepared for any eventuality,” Lady Gwenllian explained as Chwyd and Lady Seren returned. “You never know when you will be called on to fight.” After fastening on her sword and scabbard (much to Mohatu’s chagrin), Lady Gwenllian led Gisela around the grounds, showing her the foundations of the buildings in progress. Lady Seren walked alongside Lady Gwenllian as an equal, holding the unfurled scroll of parchment with the plans for the castle as Lady Gwenllian pointed out the areas where different parts of the fortress were to be laid and discussing the military strategy for each. Gisela did not have a formal education in engineering or military tactics, but it seemed to her that these two women knew what they were doing and had spent a great deal of time planning the strongest possible fortress. Lady Gwenllian stopped by the foundation of the blacksmith’s forge that was underway. “As you can see, we have some way to go, but by setting a priority, we will build the most important logistical and defensive structures first.” She looked around the high plateau, then back to Gisela. “I am in need of a strategist and liaison with the neighboring communities. We are surrounded by humans, elves, dwarves, hobbits, and other races, all of whom we need to trade and collaborate with in order to flourish and remain safe here. As we are a new community, we cannot yet bring great leverage to the dealing table, so we need someone practiced in negotiation to help provide as favorable a position as possible for Prenmôr. You strike me as such an individual. Would you be interested in taking up the position of Prenmôr’s official ambassador? At present, I cannot provide vast wealth, but I can assure you a living wage, room in my personal residence and such comforts as the area allows, plus travel to the neighboring communities and whatever entertainments and victuals accompany these, until such a time as our permanent residences are constructed.” Gisela paused a moment to take everything in. “May I have a moment?” Lady Gwenllian nodded, and Gisela took Mohatu aside. Gisela assumed that he would be displeased with the lack of fortifications of the area and would try to bring her to a safer area per her father’s instructions, so she was determined to force her will on him. “We shall be staying here. I know you’re going to argue that it doesn’t have high walls and all the troops of Varlyrio, but my father’s instructions were explicit that I find a lord willing to take me in until this family trouble blows over. I expect that you will send word to my father that this area and this lady are acceptable,” she finished with a pointed look. Mohatu held up a paw and shook his head. “My lady, I shall take no convincing and will wholeheartedly report that this area is secure. What it does not have in high walls and fortresses, it more than makes up for in its obscurity. With a population this small, outsiders will be noticed immediately, making it difficult for assassins to blend in, and this geographic site,” he motioned with his paw around the plateau, “provides a vantage over land, sea, and river, making it impossible for an advancing army to take the area by surprise. These ladies have done well in selecting the most defensible position, and while the lady herself,” he said, inclining his head toward Lady Gwenllian, “regrettably does not have a bodyguard, she looks… formidable,” he finished with a low growl and an almost begrudging respect. Gisela was pleasantly surprised, although she never let it show to her bodyguard, and smirked after turning away from Mohatu. She returned to Lady Gwenllian. “I accept your offer and the position as Ambassador of Prenmôr. I have a few household servants and my bodyguard Mohatu, who will require residence here.” “Of course,” Lady Gwenllian replied. “I will have space made for the servants with the rest of my household. Mohatu,” she turned to him, “you shall have a place downstairs in our residence with Lady Seren and her daughter Alis, while Gisela and I shall share the upstairs.” That settled, the servants began transferring Ambassador Gisela’s possessions from the ship to Lady Gwenllian’s home, and Lady Gwenllian’s household began making room for the entourage to share space with them until their permanent residences could be built. Gisela looked around the plateau, taking in the salt smell of the ocean, watching the gulls soar on the sea breeze and the peasants busily toiling away on the land below. Yes, this was going to be the beginning of a very profitable relationship.

A continuation of the story from "Pass it on", my Challenge III build, and of the misadventures of Shivering Ettu. The rebellion of Lord Bleywood and Lord Ulfgang is slowly beginning to take shape. With the help of the mercenaries of Theodore Bruin, these lords are hoping to gather more support from displeased nobles and break away from the leadership of the Steward in Valholl. Defensive preparations are being made as the risk of open conflict draws nearer and in Ulfgang land the stockades are being erected in all strategic places. According to the lord's deal Lord Bleywood has sent a group of prisoners to his ally to be used as workforce in the constructions. It's mostly just an excuse to show of my Ulfgang faction. Wolfpack shields and insignia, with dark red and dark green colors, and the nice tartan printed legs from Tartan Batman. I have a few ideas on how to bring this story forward, but I'm not sure how much time to build I'll have from now on. Maybe it will have to be a long term project. I did work a bit with the Mitgardia map to give you a bit of a hint of where this takes place. The map shows the southwest corner of Mitgardia. Blue+Gold: Bleywood, Dark Green+Dark Red: Ulfgang, Green+Yellow: Valholl, Mitgardia Capital

STAR WARS: FACTIONS THE INVISIBLE WAR It is a time of great strife. The great GALACTIC EMPIRE is beset on all sides by a coalition of terrorists, revolutionaries and traitors calling themselves the Rebel Alliance. Striking from hidden bases and fading into obscurity before the Empire can react, the Rebels have proved to be a deadly and frustrating foe. At the edge of the galaxy, Grand Admiral Martio Batch, known as THE INVISIBLE ADMIRAL, hatches a plan to give the Rebels a taste of their own medicine and restore peace to the galaxy... Dantus Sector (J6), aboard the Super Star Destroyer Terror... The interior of the Super Star Destroyer Terror was surprisingly bland, lacking the highly polished floors of the Executor and the silent bustle of terrified crew. The atmosphere appeared somewhat more laid back - although the navy ratings and officers remained quiet, it seemed more from a sense of honest professionalism than fear of Lord Vader's wrath. Little wonder, since they were at the opposite edge of the galaxy to the drama that had recently engulfed the Anoat sector. Flight Lieutenants Arias Mercer and Rubee Blue both arrived outside the briefing room at exactly 0700 - and were somewhat surprised to see each other there! Before either could speak a word, however, the doors slid open with a quiet 'hiss'. Awaiting them were a pair of Imperial Navy soldiers - a starfleet Captain with a gentle smile, and a grim-faced Sergeant of the navy troopers, presumably a bodyguard. The two pilots were a little taken aback - the man hadn't yet introduced himself (and in their experiences, ALL officers wanted their subordinates to know exactly who'd be taking all the credit for their victories as soon as possible), and had even broken protocol to offer snacks. Arias smiled, but Ruby's expression was carefully neutral. The grim-faced Sergeant, his eyes hidden behind a reflective visor and his face twisted into what seemed to be a permanent frown, reached up and withdrew a pair of canisters with some kind of glowing blue liquid inside from the cupboard beside him. A blast of chilled air hinted that the cupboard - and therefore the drinks - were cooled. Without a word or any change in expression, the Sergeant gave one canister to Lieutenant Mercer, and the other to Lieutenant Blue. Arias smiled wide in thanks and took a thirsty gulp, whilst Ruby nodded silently in thanks but didn't actually drink. After the Sergeant resumed his post, the Captain turned his attention to the viewscreen behind him, his expression hardening slightly as he moved on to business. He turned his gaze to Ruby, before gesturing out to the stars with a gloved hand. The captain smiled, apparently satisfied with Ruby's answers. He took a bite from his cookie, before pressing a button on the console mounted to the ugly table that dominated the room. The scratched, dented thing whirred quietly, and a holoprojector built into the center flared to life. Displayed in blue was Arias Mercer's dossier - not his current Navy one, but the one he'd had as a part of the Imperial Army, years prior. He watched the holoprojection for a few quiet moments, then began to interview Arias. The Captain pressed a few buttons on his console, and the holoprojection changed. Now, it displayed a map of the Dantus Sector. Planets were colour-coded depending on purpose, allegiance and current status. Five of the planets were pulsing with a white light. The three exchanged a final salute, before Ruby and Arias turned and left. They talked animatedly about the briefing and the mission all the way back to the guest quarters area, before returning to their separate cabins. After they were gone, the grim-faced Sergeant turned to his commander and, under his visor, raised an eyebrow. He had concerns, and with just the two of them remaining in the briefing room, he felt free to put voice to them.

In the countryside of Avalonia lies an old statue. Nobody knows when it was built or who built it, or even who it commemorates. This is my 5th freebuild, which means I can finally enter the 5th anniverary challenge! It was a bit rushed, but I didn't want to make something just so I can say I have 5 freebuilds, so I still wanted to build to the best of my ability. The design is quite simple, but I like how it turned out!

On Bastion, there was a sculptor Then again no, he was an artist Making ABS paintings and stone It is not much but it's the best he can do Avast, a customer at last! Should I use my head or hammer? LEGO Engraver Workshop by dr_spock_888, on Flickr Pirates don't usually pay for artwork when they can just "pirate" it. How it was really made: https://youtu.be/x0Ev37usOew

My first model of 2018, this is based off of the watermill located in Riverwood from the game Skyrim. It is meant to be viewed from all sides, and has a completely irregular border. I took inspiration for the landscape colors from Wochenender and his incredible Jernsteein creation, while the water wheel was based off of Brick’s design. The trees are again taken from the tutorial by Chris. Finally getting around to posting this model here. This completes the small storyline I had started a while ago, as well as finally finishing Age of Mitgardia! Previous story installments: 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th. Dedan, Glorfindel, and a new man dressed in dark blue robes made their way to the watermill at Firoir. A few of the villagers were around, and were obviously curious about the three visitors. Some had heard of a confrontation between Glorfindel and their Lord Tuinis, and wondered what it meant for the Officer of Valholl to have returned. Firm steps could be heard upon the wooden walkway over the river as Lord Tuinis approached, flanked by three Mitgardian soldiers. And it was obvious from the guard's gleaming weapons and armor that they were not any of the local troops under Tuinis' command. As he neared the small group, it was clear to all that his rage was barely contained. "What is the meaning of this, Sir Glorfindel," blustered the man, placing sarcastic emphasis on the term sir. "Invading Firoir with armed troops is no small matter, and I will have you brought before the Valholl Council and banished from Mitgardia!" Glorfindel answered with just a hint of a smile, "That will not be possible, Tuinis." "Further insults! Let everyone here be witness to the fact that this man has not even had the decency to properly address a lord of Mitgardia." "Your status as lord has been revoked, and the Parliament has also removed your control of Firoir." This statement from Glorfindel was brought with a fleeting moment of terror on Tuinis' face, before his usual arrogance returned. "Lies!" He spat back, "You have merely brought some of your own lackey troops, and used armed force to take this town!" At this point the oldest of the three soldiers spoke up: "I am Captain Mattr, and can assure you that this was all done on behalf of the Valholl Council, I am not on any orders from Sir Glorfindel." "You will find all of the legal documents in order," said Dedan, as he extended a sealed letter towards the former lord. "Those papers also instate Vigr here as the new lord of Firoir," added Glorfindel, gesturing the man robed in blue. Tuinis had a nasty glint in his eye as he made his parting statement before the guards escorted him to the prisons of Valholl, "I can see your trickery was thorough, but be assured that you will not escape this debacle unharmed!" The villagers breathed slight sighs of relief at the man's departure, though they dared not hope their new lord was any better of a man. In time Vigr did gain their respect, and also that of the neighboring lord's who were only too happy to see their troublesome neighbor replaced. See more pictures on Brickbuilt C&C always welcome .

Though he likely would never rule Førstlys, Makny was a member of the lord's household, and would be expected to fight for him. So his father spent many hours with him, teaching him to swing a sword and hold a shield. They would often practice in dangerous corners of the island, so Makny learned to mind his footing and pay attention to his surroundings. His father never went easy on him, for as all Mitgardians know, the pain of defeat is a warrior's greatest teacher. http:// Comment and criticism welcome.

Because he was the second son of the Lord of Forstlys, Makny's father was often responsible for helping expand and improve the lord's holdings. This meant everything from bolstering defenses to tilling new fields, and he always made sure the Makny was around to learn what he could. When he was very young, Makny's father would send him out before a new field was plowed. He would find the rocks and stack them along the side of the field, protecting the plow blades and fencing the field to keep the animals from trampling the crops that would be planted there. The walls he stacked as a child were crooked, with many small rocks; but as he grew, his fences became straighter, and the rocks he stacked unaided were much larger. This is my first build for GoH, and I'm looking for critiques. From here I'm thinking that I'll run through as many of the AoM categories as I can by starting with vignettes or small builds, as my Lego time is highly limited these days. But I'm hoping to get out enough freebuilds to crank out something for the fifth anniversary challenge. I've followed this story from the beginning (as a lurker in the shadows, while away from my collection in college), and now I'm really excited to participate!