Post by Drakkvonlego on Feb 17, 2016 18:23:15 GMT -8
Global Challenge XII - "An Enterprise of Exploration"
Story:
In Loreos...
Prince Mark confidently strode through the great and majestic halls of the Royal Palace. Chartres had completely transformed the look and feel of the palace since the evil Queen had once occupied it. The ghastly blood red and sickly black dragon sigil banners plastering the walls and doorways had long been torn down and burned. Now banners of each of the realms hung brilliantly as the divine midday sunlight broke through the windows illuminating them.
Directly in tow Mark had almost his entire Council with him, who listened attentively to his responses and inquiries to their questions. However, his was not the only input served up, as Jarius Lorean walked in almost complete sequence with Mark, pitching his ideas and feelings into each matter as he saw fit. Mark was indeed the new leader of Loreos, but some power structures still remained in place.
Erathor Pridnar and Lord Stout were now speaking upon some military matters, which was one of, if not the main reason why Mark and his council had made their way to the Royal residence that day to rendezvous with King Chartres.
“...needless to say my Prince, we cannot leave this palace without the confirmation from Chartres himself that he’ll help us with this matter. The King’s support would mean a great deal to our forces.” said Lord Stout swiftly rounding a corner behind Mark.
“He’ll give us support, there’s no question about that, it’s more so about how much support he’ll give us.” Said Jarius casting his thoughts in.
“Well, put yourself in his position Uncle,” said Mark taking a step ahead of Jarius and turning to face him, “it’s not exactly the most believable report to come from any corner of Roawia.”
The men walked slowly and filled the hallways wall to wall with their presence. Servants and guards repeatedly quickened their pace if they found themselves in the convoy’s path, fearful they might call attention to themselves in some way.
“This whole matter seems a little...off, if I do say so my Prince.” said Mattius Xavier, hinting at something greater. Mark turned to his side and gave his Steward a look that asked for continuation.
“Well, it just seems to me like perfect timing for our friends to the north. A little too perfect. Our boats were loaded up with supplies, ready and able to reach the new lands, and there wasn’t even a cloud in the sky. Then all of a sudden, a giant fog cloud rolls in? I don’t proclaim to be a master sailor, but how often does a fog cloud like that suddenly appear out of, well, out of thin air and engulf a whole fleet in such darkness that everyone all but loses track of each other!” Xavier was getting quite excited in his speech and his voice began echoing off into the halls. He calmed himself and continued in a lower tone. “So, a fog so thick that Admiral Ignacio de Lezo, a master of navigation I remind you, swallows up the entire fleet leaving him blind and confused and then what? Oh of course, a giant sea serpent with ‘teeth longer than a man’s arm attacks the whole fleet only then for a group of Outlaws to swoop in for the raid. The survivors make it back to port but almost as soon as they land a rumor spreads like wildfire throughout Roawia, ‘A giant serpent is reaping the seas to the West!’ and nobody even thinks to stick one toe in the ocean again, not even the Garhims with their new fleet, except the Lenfels! Looks a bit too much like a set-up to me, Prince. We’ve been deceived by such tricks before unfortunately.” Xavier said, no doubtedly in reference to the usurper Queen.
Mark took in what he had just heard, and turned to Jarius, looking for some kind of input as well.
“He has a bit of a point, Mark.” said Jarius, hand on chin looking towards the floor as if the answers were sprawled out there. “A sea serpent ‘mysteriously rises out of the water’ and attacks our fleet but we’re left here assuming some rag-tag band of Outlaws were at fault. Which conveniently Takes our attention away from the Lenfels who make a run for the new lands and set-up shop like the waters are crystal clear...”
“And the stream of ships ferrying supplies to and from the Lenfel coast hasn’t stopped since.” said Xavier finishing Jarius’ sentence.
The file of men was now all but stopped dead in the halls. The proposition of such an idea was a dangerous notion. Could the Lenfels have constructed such a convenient trap for the Loreesi fleet as to leave the new lands all but theirs? Each man stood deep in thought about this surprising conclusion.
“The little information on this Outlaw band of marauders doesn’t help the case, but we cannot let these drastic conclusions run rampant in our minds. The Lenfels can be quite clever and mischievous, but if our assumptions are true, I doubt they were alone in planning this trap. They must’ve had help from someone familiar with magic and the beasts of old Roawia. I can only think of one such place where both could be found... ” said Mark trailing off.
“You don’t think they’d stoop to that level...the Lenfels must have some sense of morality…it seems impossible...do you think it’s really possible, Prince Mark?” asked Lord Stout hesitantly forming his sentence.
But before Mark could answer an echoing call bounced down the hall surprising all the men who now stood barricading the passage. “And here I was thinking we had an urgent matter on our hands that called for the King’s immediate attention and what do I find but everyone standing around!” shouted Chartres down to hall with a sarcastic smile. Mark lifted his head and instinctively smiled back at the new King who now approached the group. “Chartres! I mean, King Chartres!”, said Mark. Mark’s smile may have reassured everyone that things would soon sort themselves out but underneath of his grin Mark felt something about their current situation was indeed off.
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Meanwhile in Garheim...
Each of the Jarl’s steps crunched and crackled as the sand and gravel shifted beneath his leather boots. He slowly perused the dry dock, looking at the woodwork and beautiful curved hulls before him. He looked up to see the many masts and cranes stretch high into the sky above him and caught the taste of the salty air in his mouth and nose as the wind carried forth a calm breeze. The new fleet was now completed and almost ready to set sail for the new lands to the west. The Jarl had come to the coastal towns to personally inspect many of the ships, but more importantly to show face and give moral support to all of the men and women who now waited hesitantly at the sea’s edge for their westernly journeys to begin.
There was but one problem. A gloom had fallen over the towns and the people themselves. Garheim was still recovering from their occupation and realizing all they had lost. Some of their best warriors, ship builders, sailors, navigators, and leaders had been lost due to the Queen’s hands. But more importantly they were brothers and sisters. Fathers and mothers. Friends and mentors. Colleagues and merchants. And the thought of potentially losing more of them to the seas and western lands was not sitting well with many, especially now that a sea serpent and band of Outlaw pirates had been rumored to be sailing to the west of Roawia killing and raiding any would-be explorers and colonists.
The Jarl walked slowly between the hulls of two massive ships. The sun was shining in such a way that his path was cast in shadow but his body was not. He spotted a few workers smiling at him and nodded affirmatively noting their presence.
He too was cautious because he had received correspondence with his ambassadors recently in Loreos who had stated feverishly that they were indeed not just rumors. Prince Mark and Jarius, along with all of the most important leaders of the military and state had picked up and left to visit Chartres at his palace on the Royal Isle. At least that’s what they were told.
Meanwhile the Lenfels had been making headway in the west, establishing colonies and forts that could rival those on the mainland. Their ships weighed down heavily with every trip back. They didn’t seemed very concerned about this ‘sea serpent’ to the Jarl.
And the Outlaws had seemed unusually quiet lately. Not too much had been seen or heard from their newly elected king, especially this far north.
A single cloud brushed by the low afternoon sun, shading everyone. A strong breeze blew through the dock and the hulls of the new ships creaked and groaned like living beasts.
In the distance the Jarl saw the waves of a grey sea crashing onto a stony beach. He didn’t know what was out there amongst the waves, and feared for his people's’ safety and their well being. But he also knew that to sit idle was to let Garheim fall into darkness once again.
One of his advisors came up to him, his head bowed towards the ground, “My Lord, the citizens have gathered to hear you speak just outside one of the warehouses. The sun will begin to set soon.” The Jarl simply nodded and the advisor walked away.
The sun was beginning to color the ocean reds and pinks as it fell deeper in the horizon. But the waves carried on, crashing upon themselves over and over again.
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Deep in Outlaw Territory...
“More wine son! Don’t be shy, we are celebrating after all!”
It seemed Baron Locklear possessed not the capability for an ‘inside voice’. He was already on his second glass and feeling its effects, although the former northerner showed no outward signs. “The new lands will be ours for the taking soon enough!” Locklear turned to face the visiting councilman Captain Ramsey, who currently held the Baron’s ear in all things New Roawia. “Oh cheer up Ramsey, the our new ally Ivanovich and his pet are just what we needed to turn the tides in our favor.” He guffawed at his obvious pun, and Captain Ramsey humored him a strained smile.
“While I agree with my lord Baron, I feel I must remind you that Lenfald is still colonizing the isles unopposed. As we capture ships, they capture the unknown wealth of the islands,” He sipped from his wine to allow the point to take hold. “I wish to submit my proposal to you once again, we must al---”
“Enough!” Locklear interrupted. His face suddenly cold and commanding. “I am mulling over your plan. Your ability to make the most out of any situation is why you are here enjoying my best vintage and the luxury of my summer home. But do not overstep yourself.” It was the Barons turn to pause for effect. Locklear’s face turned once again to a grin and he barked a hearty--if not heartful--laugh. “Come! Join my family in the garden.”
He led him to the garden with a hand around his shoulders like old friends. Out of the side of his mouth he spoke in a hushed tone to the veteran pirate, “Ill tell you what Ramsey, convince my wife of this plan and we shall talk...”
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And lastly in Lenfald....
On the exterior, things is Lenfald could not get any better. Impressive ports were already being established in the new lands to the West, and a constant stream of ships flowed into Lenfald with every deck and hold filled to the brim with loads of minerals, crops, lumber, and many other resources. The citizens were flourishing with their newly acquired wealth as well. Happiness could not be avoided in the streets.
But despite all the joy and assets now at their disposal, High Lord Albrecht von Falkenborg could only focus on the problems facing Lenfald. The war with the Queen had left many men and women dead and injured and the ripple effects could still be felt making their way through society. Hospitals were packed even tighter than the new merchant ships coming from the West. Medical personnel were at an all time high in demand. Many residents feared contracting new illness found in the Great Western Isles and many still fought wounds and infections inflicted by the evil queen.
The Lenfel navy was in desperate need of new warships as well to defend their shipping routes from would-be marauders and pirates. There were now rumours making surface that a group of Outlaws possessed a great sea beast too, capable of sinking entire fleets in quick time and Lenfel merchants were hesitant to return to open waters without guard. Falkenborg was cautious of believing such tales, but even he knew new warships would be no match for something that elusive and deadly. Some of the Council members were more concerned about the matter though, and had been repeatedly calling on Falkenborg to gather the Council. Falkenborg was not delighted at the idea of calling everyone together to discuss old sailors’ tales, but then again, old sailors’ tales are what helped discover the new lands to the west.
The sun sat low in the sky as Falkenborg hurried through the halls of the meeting house, and the meeting was quickly called to session.
Each member who had a word to speak, spoke. Some members presented ideas about the resolution to the increasing need for healers that was plaguing the hospitals. Some spoke of ways to better equip the Lenfel navy against pirates. And some spoke of resource allocation and the building of defensive forts in the new lands. But, most spoke furiously about the rumors of a sea beast.
“What if it’s real!”, exclaimed one member.
“My citizens refuse to set sail for fear they be swallowed up!”, said another.
“Why has that fool Chartres not addressed the matter?!” asked one member. Heads were shook in agreeance with this comment the most.
Falkenborg found most of these concerns repetitive and also quite irritating coming from the most prestigious men and women Lenfald had to offer. “Are we no better than to indulge in senseless tavern rumors?” he thought.
Falkenborg had decreed that despite these rumors the flow of ships to and from the new lands should not be hindered. A slowdown in the construction of their colonies meant a slowdown for all of Lenfald and that was a move that could not be afforded while they were ahead.
Finally the last member had spoken and the hall became silent once more. Glances were thrown across the room to see if anyone else wished to speak before Falkenborg called the meeting to close. He was nearly ready to stand-up and speak until one member slowly rose from his seat and began paning the chamber with one beady eye. Lord Sorley Meyrick made eye contact with Falkenborg briefly and then began to speak.
“Tonight, I think we can agree we’ve heard a great many rumors about this supposed ‘Sea Monster’ that threatens our ventures into the west. And they are quite nasty and vile rumors. But what I don’t think we’ve heard this evening, are any viable solutions to our problem.” He spoke with a slight grimace on his face. “A whole lot of fevered emotions and reactions are all that’s been heard here, and it’s quite, pitiful, to say the least.”
Meyrick paused, looking at his fellow Council members who glared at him with disgust.
“The problem here lies not in the beast itself, but the idea of it, and the fear it produces. Fear is a very powerful tool, one the Outlaws use field frequently. We don’t even know if such a beast exists! These rumors could be completely fabricated. Spread simply to stunt our exploration. And if it does exist, how are we to hunt something we know nothing about, other than what we’ve heard of in taverns? Well I suggest we don’t hunt it at all.”
The council took such an arrangement as laughable. But Falkenborg was furious. “So he suggests we put our heads in the dirt then, and ignore such a beast?” he thought.
Meyrick continued, “We don’t need to hunt the beast or build anymore warships in a feverous manner if we don’t have to, and the one way we can avoid all this mess,” Meyrick paused in his speech, for what he was about to say could cost him his life. “The only way this mess can be avoided... is to forge a working relationship with this new ‘King’ of the Outlaws, Baron Locklear.”
The Council was in a state of disbelief at what they had just heard, but Meyrick continued speaking with a more rapid hiss now.
“He has the ships! He has the respect of a great number of Outlaws! And most importantly, he’ll likely be able to help us defend and protect from not only other pirates, but the Loreesi and the King’s forces if need be! And as for this ‘beast’, if it truly does exist, he’ll likely be able to protect our forces from that too. We cannot overlook the fact that he has been able to do what many others have tried and failed to do, and that is to quench the lawlessness of the Outlaws and form together one coherent looking army. He grows in numbers every day, and soon he’ll be a force that cannot be avoided! We cannot let a force that may eventually rival that of the Queen’s sneak right under our noses, and put us into a death grip once again! We need his support as much as he needs ours. This is a situation both parties benefit from, and it is a plan that puts Chartres and the Loreesi at a complete disadvantage! We must consider a pact! If we do not, then the efforts in New Lenfald will be in vain once they make the Western Seas untravelable.”
Falkenborg sat with his head hung low. Many of the council members looked to him for guidance. Finally he lifted his head and met eyes with Meyrick. Night had already fallen, and the chamber was dark except for the flickering glow of torches all around the room. The flames were reflected in Falkenborg’s eyes and the light of the torches behind him only illuminated the sides of his worn face making him look almost entirely encased in shadow. He looked deep into both of Meyrick’s eyes. “Heresy.” he said in a soft but well heard voice. “This, this is heresy.”
And with these words, the High Lord of Lenfald shut down all discussion of such an incendiary idea. “This nation will not be once more be thrown into a pool of darkness, let alone by this council!” Falkenborg shouted.
...But within the minds of some present, Meyrick’s idea was not so outlandish....
Falkenborg, the High Marshall of Lenfald
Lord Sorley Meyrick, the Grand Duke of Ainesford
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Challenge:
Build a scene in Roawia following one of these categories:
Economy: New products from the Great Western Isles are changing the economies of Roawia! Do you have your hand in the lucrative trading of commodities of the Isles?
Exploration: The Isles are barely explored, an untamed land waiting to be charted and conquered. Do you brave the unknown and go forth in the name of your country (or yourself)? = Lenfald and Outlaws only for the Great Western Isles; Garheim and Loreos can explore new terrain in Roawia.
Extortion: Times of great change provide many opportunities, and not just those on the up-and-up. Thievery, bribery, blackmail, threats, and other nefarious deeds are on the rise. Do you choose to delve into the dark underbelly of wealth management?
**Note** that you must identify which category you are building such as: “GC XII - Exploration”
Size categories:
Sizes include the new “Bignette”, Restricted, and Unrestricted:
“Bignette”: 16x16, very minimal overhang allowed
Restricted: 20x20 minimum to 32x32 maximum, minimal overhang allowed
Unrestricted: larger than a Restricted in footprint, no limit to overhang, no maximum size
Mandatory:
Note that the inclusion of a faction banner, either in LEGO or digital (and preferably both) is now mandatory as per the KC! As usual, your character must also be present in your entries. We will be carefully enforcing these rules, so be sure to comply, or risk being both disqualified and publicly shamed by lighthearted PC name calling.
Scoring:
You may enter any of the above 3 size categories once each, a max of 3 entries.
“Bignette” entries are worth 2 points, Restricted is worth 3 points, and Unrestricted is worth 5 points.
UPDATED Deadline: 11:59pm at your location, March 31st, 2016
**Important Note**
Overall Faction scoring will be slightly different from previous Global Contests with more reward given to the overall winners of the categories rather than participation from a faction. That is not to say that participation does not matter, it is to insure that lower populated factions have an opportunity to perform well in the contest.
In addition, the Global Story will be influenced by the winners of the contest, this is your chance to impact the world of Roawia! Go forth, build, and dive once again into the Lands of Roawia!
Story:
In Loreos...
Prince Mark confidently strode through the great and majestic halls of the Royal Palace. Chartres had completely transformed the look and feel of the palace since the evil Queen had once occupied it. The ghastly blood red and sickly black dragon sigil banners plastering the walls and doorways had long been torn down and burned. Now banners of each of the realms hung brilliantly as the divine midday sunlight broke through the windows illuminating them.
Directly in tow Mark had almost his entire Council with him, who listened attentively to his responses and inquiries to their questions. However, his was not the only input served up, as Jarius Lorean walked in almost complete sequence with Mark, pitching his ideas and feelings into each matter as he saw fit. Mark was indeed the new leader of Loreos, but some power structures still remained in place.
Erathor Pridnar and Lord Stout were now speaking upon some military matters, which was one of, if not the main reason why Mark and his council had made their way to the Royal residence that day to rendezvous with King Chartres.
“...needless to say my Prince, we cannot leave this palace without the confirmation from Chartres himself that he’ll help us with this matter. The King’s support would mean a great deal to our forces.” said Lord Stout swiftly rounding a corner behind Mark.
“He’ll give us support, there’s no question about that, it’s more so about how much support he’ll give us.” Said Jarius casting his thoughts in.
“Well, put yourself in his position Uncle,” said Mark taking a step ahead of Jarius and turning to face him, “it’s not exactly the most believable report to come from any corner of Roawia.”
The men walked slowly and filled the hallways wall to wall with their presence. Servants and guards repeatedly quickened their pace if they found themselves in the convoy’s path, fearful they might call attention to themselves in some way.
“This whole matter seems a little...off, if I do say so my Prince.” said Mattius Xavier, hinting at something greater. Mark turned to his side and gave his Steward a look that asked for continuation.
“Well, it just seems to me like perfect timing for our friends to the north. A little too perfect. Our boats were loaded up with supplies, ready and able to reach the new lands, and there wasn’t even a cloud in the sky. Then all of a sudden, a giant fog cloud rolls in? I don’t proclaim to be a master sailor, but how often does a fog cloud like that suddenly appear out of, well, out of thin air and engulf a whole fleet in such darkness that everyone all but loses track of each other!” Xavier was getting quite excited in his speech and his voice began echoing off into the halls. He calmed himself and continued in a lower tone. “So, a fog so thick that Admiral Ignacio de Lezo, a master of navigation I remind you, swallows up the entire fleet leaving him blind and confused and then what? Oh of course, a giant sea serpent with ‘teeth longer than a man’s arm attacks the whole fleet only then for a group of Outlaws to swoop in for the raid. The survivors make it back to port but almost as soon as they land a rumor spreads like wildfire throughout Roawia, ‘A giant serpent is reaping the seas to the West!’ and nobody even thinks to stick one toe in the ocean again, not even the Garhims with their new fleet, except the Lenfels! Looks a bit too much like a set-up to me, Prince. We’ve been deceived by such tricks before unfortunately.” Xavier said, no doubtedly in reference to the usurper Queen.
Mark took in what he had just heard, and turned to Jarius, looking for some kind of input as well.
“He has a bit of a point, Mark.” said Jarius, hand on chin looking towards the floor as if the answers were sprawled out there. “A sea serpent ‘mysteriously rises out of the water’ and attacks our fleet but we’re left here assuming some rag-tag band of Outlaws were at fault. Which conveniently Takes our attention away from the Lenfels who make a run for the new lands and set-up shop like the waters are crystal clear...”
“And the stream of ships ferrying supplies to and from the Lenfel coast hasn’t stopped since.” said Xavier finishing Jarius’ sentence.
The file of men was now all but stopped dead in the halls. The proposition of such an idea was a dangerous notion. Could the Lenfels have constructed such a convenient trap for the Loreesi fleet as to leave the new lands all but theirs? Each man stood deep in thought about this surprising conclusion.
“The little information on this Outlaw band of marauders doesn’t help the case, but we cannot let these drastic conclusions run rampant in our minds. The Lenfels can be quite clever and mischievous, but if our assumptions are true, I doubt they were alone in planning this trap. They must’ve had help from someone familiar with magic and the beasts of old Roawia. I can only think of one such place where both could be found... ” said Mark trailing off.
“You don’t think they’d stoop to that level...the Lenfels must have some sense of morality…it seems impossible...do you think it’s really possible, Prince Mark?” asked Lord Stout hesitantly forming his sentence.
But before Mark could answer an echoing call bounced down the hall surprising all the men who now stood barricading the passage. “And here I was thinking we had an urgent matter on our hands that called for the King’s immediate attention and what do I find but everyone standing around!” shouted Chartres down to hall with a sarcastic smile. Mark lifted his head and instinctively smiled back at the new King who now approached the group. “Chartres! I mean, King Chartres!”, said Mark. Mark’s smile may have reassured everyone that things would soon sort themselves out but underneath of his grin Mark felt something about their current situation was indeed off.
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Meanwhile in Garheim...
Each of the Jarl’s steps crunched and crackled as the sand and gravel shifted beneath his leather boots. He slowly perused the dry dock, looking at the woodwork and beautiful curved hulls before him. He looked up to see the many masts and cranes stretch high into the sky above him and caught the taste of the salty air in his mouth and nose as the wind carried forth a calm breeze. The new fleet was now completed and almost ready to set sail for the new lands to the west. The Jarl had come to the coastal towns to personally inspect many of the ships, but more importantly to show face and give moral support to all of the men and women who now waited hesitantly at the sea’s edge for their westernly journeys to begin.
There was but one problem. A gloom had fallen over the towns and the people themselves. Garheim was still recovering from their occupation and realizing all they had lost. Some of their best warriors, ship builders, sailors, navigators, and leaders had been lost due to the Queen’s hands. But more importantly they were brothers and sisters. Fathers and mothers. Friends and mentors. Colleagues and merchants. And the thought of potentially losing more of them to the seas and western lands was not sitting well with many, especially now that a sea serpent and band of Outlaw pirates had been rumored to be sailing to the west of Roawia killing and raiding any would-be explorers and colonists.
The Jarl walked slowly between the hulls of two massive ships. The sun was shining in such a way that his path was cast in shadow but his body was not. He spotted a few workers smiling at him and nodded affirmatively noting their presence.
He too was cautious because he had received correspondence with his ambassadors recently in Loreos who had stated feverishly that they were indeed not just rumors. Prince Mark and Jarius, along with all of the most important leaders of the military and state had picked up and left to visit Chartres at his palace on the Royal Isle. At least that’s what they were told.
Meanwhile the Lenfels had been making headway in the west, establishing colonies and forts that could rival those on the mainland. Their ships weighed down heavily with every trip back. They didn’t seemed very concerned about this ‘sea serpent’ to the Jarl.
And the Outlaws had seemed unusually quiet lately. Not too much had been seen or heard from their newly elected king, especially this far north.
A single cloud brushed by the low afternoon sun, shading everyone. A strong breeze blew through the dock and the hulls of the new ships creaked and groaned like living beasts.
In the distance the Jarl saw the waves of a grey sea crashing onto a stony beach. He didn’t know what was out there amongst the waves, and feared for his people's’ safety and their well being. But he also knew that to sit idle was to let Garheim fall into darkness once again.
One of his advisors came up to him, his head bowed towards the ground, “My Lord, the citizens have gathered to hear you speak just outside one of the warehouses. The sun will begin to set soon.” The Jarl simply nodded and the advisor walked away.
The sun was beginning to color the ocean reds and pinks as it fell deeper in the horizon. But the waves carried on, crashing upon themselves over and over again.
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Deep in Outlaw Territory...
“More wine son! Don’t be shy, we are celebrating after all!”
It seemed Baron Locklear possessed not the capability for an ‘inside voice’. He was already on his second glass and feeling its effects, although the former northerner showed no outward signs. “The new lands will be ours for the taking soon enough!” Locklear turned to face the visiting councilman Captain Ramsey, who currently held the Baron’s ear in all things New Roawia. “Oh cheer up Ramsey, the our new ally Ivanovich and his pet are just what we needed to turn the tides in our favor.” He guffawed at his obvious pun, and Captain Ramsey humored him a strained smile.
“While I agree with my lord Baron, I feel I must remind you that Lenfald is still colonizing the isles unopposed. As we capture ships, they capture the unknown wealth of the islands,” He sipped from his wine to allow the point to take hold. “I wish to submit my proposal to you once again, we must al---”
“Enough!” Locklear interrupted. His face suddenly cold and commanding. “I am mulling over your plan. Your ability to make the most out of any situation is why you are here enjoying my best vintage and the luxury of my summer home. But do not overstep yourself.” It was the Barons turn to pause for effect. Locklear’s face turned once again to a grin and he barked a hearty--if not heartful--laugh. “Come! Join my family in the garden.”
He led him to the garden with a hand around his shoulders like old friends. Out of the side of his mouth he spoke in a hushed tone to the veteran pirate, “Ill tell you what Ramsey, convince my wife of this plan and we shall talk...”
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And lastly in Lenfald....
On the exterior, things is Lenfald could not get any better. Impressive ports were already being established in the new lands to the West, and a constant stream of ships flowed into Lenfald with every deck and hold filled to the brim with loads of minerals, crops, lumber, and many other resources. The citizens were flourishing with their newly acquired wealth as well. Happiness could not be avoided in the streets.
But despite all the joy and assets now at their disposal, High Lord Albrecht von Falkenborg could only focus on the problems facing Lenfald. The war with the Queen had left many men and women dead and injured and the ripple effects could still be felt making their way through society. Hospitals were packed even tighter than the new merchant ships coming from the West. Medical personnel were at an all time high in demand. Many residents feared contracting new illness found in the Great Western Isles and many still fought wounds and infections inflicted by the evil queen.
The Lenfel navy was in desperate need of new warships as well to defend their shipping routes from would-be marauders and pirates. There were now rumours making surface that a group of Outlaws possessed a great sea beast too, capable of sinking entire fleets in quick time and Lenfel merchants were hesitant to return to open waters without guard. Falkenborg was cautious of believing such tales, but even he knew new warships would be no match for something that elusive and deadly. Some of the Council members were more concerned about the matter though, and had been repeatedly calling on Falkenborg to gather the Council. Falkenborg was not delighted at the idea of calling everyone together to discuss old sailors’ tales, but then again, old sailors’ tales are what helped discover the new lands to the west.
The sun sat low in the sky as Falkenborg hurried through the halls of the meeting house, and the meeting was quickly called to session.
Each member who had a word to speak, spoke. Some members presented ideas about the resolution to the increasing need for healers that was plaguing the hospitals. Some spoke of ways to better equip the Lenfel navy against pirates. And some spoke of resource allocation and the building of defensive forts in the new lands. But, most spoke furiously about the rumors of a sea beast.
“What if it’s real!”, exclaimed one member.
“My citizens refuse to set sail for fear they be swallowed up!”, said another.
“Why has that fool Chartres not addressed the matter?!” asked one member. Heads were shook in agreeance with this comment the most.
Falkenborg found most of these concerns repetitive and also quite irritating coming from the most prestigious men and women Lenfald had to offer. “Are we no better than to indulge in senseless tavern rumors?” he thought.
Falkenborg had decreed that despite these rumors the flow of ships to and from the new lands should not be hindered. A slowdown in the construction of their colonies meant a slowdown for all of Lenfald and that was a move that could not be afforded while they were ahead.
Finally the last member had spoken and the hall became silent once more. Glances were thrown across the room to see if anyone else wished to speak before Falkenborg called the meeting to close. He was nearly ready to stand-up and speak until one member slowly rose from his seat and began paning the chamber with one beady eye. Lord Sorley Meyrick made eye contact with Falkenborg briefly and then began to speak.
“Tonight, I think we can agree we’ve heard a great many rumors about this supposed ‘Sea Monster’ that threatens our ventures into the west. And they are quite nasty and vile rumors. But what I don’t think we’ve heard this evening, are any viable solutions to our problem.” He spoke with a slight grimace on his face. “A whole lot of fevered emotions and reactions are all that’s been heard here, and it’s quite, pitiful, to say the least.”
Meyrick paused, looking at his fellow Council members who glared at him with disgust.
“The problem here lies not in the beast itself, but the idea of it, and the fear it produces. Fear is a very powerful tool, one the Outlaws use field frequently. We don’t even know if such a beast exists! These rumors could be completely fabricated. Spread simply to stunt our exploration. And if it does exist, how are we to hunt something we know nothing about, other than what we’ve heard of in taverns? Well I suggest we don’t hunt it at all.”
The council took such an arrangement as laughable. But Falkenborg was furious. “So he suggests we put our heads in the dirt then, and ignore such a beast?” he thought.
Meyrick continued, “We don’t need to hunt the beast or build anymore warships in a feverous manner if we don’t have to, and the one way we can avoid all this mess,” Meyrick paused in his speech, for what he was about to say could cost him his life. “The only way this mess can be avoided... is to forge a working relationship with this new ‘King’ of the Outlaws, Baron Locklear.”
The Council was in a state of disbelief at what they had just heard, but Meyrick continued speaking with a more rapid hiss now.
“He has the ships! He has the respect of a great number of Outlaws! And most importantly, he’ll likely be able to help us defend and protect from not only other pirates, but the Loreesi and the King’s forces if need be! And as for this ‘beast’, if it truly does exist, he’ll likely be able to protect our forces from that too. We cannot overlook the fact that he has been able to do what many others have tried and failed to do, and that is to quench the lawlessness of the Outlaws and form together one coherent looking army. He grows in numbers every day, and soon he’ll be a force that cannot be avoided! We cannot let a force that may eventually rival that of the Queen’s sneak right under our noses, and put us into a death grip once again! We need his support as much as he needs ours. This is a situation both parties benefit from, and it is a plan that puts Chartres and the Loreesi at a complete disadvantage! We must consider a pact! If we do not, then the efforts in New Lenfald will be in vain once they make the Western Seas untravelable.”
Falkenborg sat with his head hung low. Many of the council members looked to him for guidance. Finally he lifted his head and met eyes with Meyrick. Night had already fallen, and the chamber was dark except for the flickering glow of torches all around the room. The flames were reflected in Falkenborg’s eyes and the light of the torches behind him only illuminated the sides of his worn face making him look almost entirely encased in shadow. He looked deep into both of Meyrick’s eyes. “Heresy.” he said in a soft but well heard voice. “This, this is heresy.”
And with these words, the High Lord of Lenfald shut down all discussion of such an incendiary idea. “This nation will not be once more be thrown into a pool of darkness, let alone by this council!” Falkenborg shouted.
...But within the minds of some present, Meyrick’s idea was not so outlandish....
Falkenborg, the High Marshall of Lenfald
Lord Sorley Meyrick, the Grand Duke of Ainesford
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Challenge:
Build a scene in Roawia following one of these categories:
Economy: New products from the Great Western Isles are changing the economies of Roawia! Do you have your hand in the lucrative trading of commodities of the Isles?
Exploration: The Isles are barely explored, an untamed land waiting to be charted and conquered. Do you brave the unknown and go forth in the name of your country (or yourself)? = Lenfald and Outlaws only for the Great Western Isles; Garheim and Loreos can explore new terrain in Roawia.
Extortion: Times of great change provide many opportunities, and not just those on the up-and-up. Thievery, bribery, blackmail, threats, and other nefarious deeds are on the rise. Do you choose to delve into the dark underbelly of wealth management?
**Note** that you must identify which category you are building such as: “GC XII - Exploration”
Size categories:
Sizes include the new “Bignette”, Restricted, and Unrestricted:
“Bignette”: 16x16, very minimal overhang allowed
Restricted: 20x20 minimum to 32x32 maximum, minimal overhang allowed
Unrestricted: larger than a Restricted in footprint, no limit to overhang, no maximum size
Mandatory:
Note that the inclusion of a faction banner, either in LEGO or digital (and preferably both) is now mandatory as per the KC! As usual, your character must also be present in your entries. We will be carefully enforcing these rules, so be sure to comply, or risk being both disqualified and publicly shamed by lighthearted PC name calling.
Scoring:
You may enter any of the above 3 size categories once each, a max of 3 entries.
“Bignette” entries are worth 2 points, Restricted is worth 3 points, and Unrestricted is worth 5 points.
UPDATED Deadline: 11:59pm at your location, March 31st, 2016
**Important Note**
Overall Faction scoring will be slightly different from previous Global Contests with more reward given to the overall winners of the categories rather than participation from a faction. That is not to say that participation does not matter, it is to insure that lower populated factions have an opportunity to perform well in the contest.
In addition, the Global Story will be influenced by the winners of the contest, this is your chance to impact the world of Roawia! Go forth, build, and dive once again into the Lands of Roawia!