Rohan First Stage Complete!

Well it's been a hot minute since I've been on here. And that's really cos it's taken me a hot minute to finish painting the Rohirrim. Painting was never my favourite part of the hobby, I definitely enjoy building and playing more, so motivation is tricky to get sometimes.

That said, Theoden rides again!

 

This was the original 300 points I planned for, and was entirely built from the Pelennor Fields box with the exception of the King's Huntsman. I'm incredibly proud of the Royal Guardsman conversions.

I've already got the expansion to 500pts prepared as well:

 (Didn't even notice I'd knocked Theoden aside).

This expansion will be a lot quicker to prepare, as I'm using official guardsmen and had already painted one of the additional Outriders. The Deorwine sculpt is fantastic too. In fact, the only work required will be to add a banner to the additional Guard in Theoden's group.

Future expansions will almost definitely be Eomer and some Riders and a decent unit of Grimbold's Helmingas. The inclusion of my Huntsman and unmounted Outriders show it clearly that I did not want to stick to pure cavalry. As I've already planned to get a detachment from Minas Tirith, I felt the Helmingas would form a good hammer to a Gondorian Shieldwall.

HOWEVER!

This series of posts was supposed to detail the build up of two equal forces, and Mordor has been greatly neglected.

Despite finishing the Kardush conversion and basing and priming the front line Orcs, that remains the full extent of the work. The Troll Chief is still missing an arm! Green Stuff will be employed to finish him up however, as I want him to look as unique as possible.

I have turned an eye to expansion here too:

 

I've made one and a half Black Numenorians, but I think the first expansion will go to the Ringwraith (a spare Rohan horse and the extra wraith body from the Witch King sprue), and a retinue of Warg Riders. I'm using the Fell Wargs from the Hobbit range here, which are probably amongst the best of that range and I prefer them to the LOTR plastic Wargs (the metal ones are good, but that would be expensive).

The Wargs give the force much needed mobility and ranged power, and a Wraith is always powerful, and synergises well with Kardush.

Let's hope my next update comes along quicker!

The Vale - A Journey in Worldbuilding Part Two

As I mentioned in the last post, most of the world-building for Alenostr was centered around The Vale, as it was where the player characters would start, and was the focus of the larger world story I wanted to tell and use as a guide for the characters actions. Of course, if they'd just up and left the area, I would've had to adjust, but that's the trick of setting up worthwhile tasks and compelling NPCs (and also trusting your players not to derail everything for no reason).

*** *** *** *** ***

The Vale, post-Rebellion

 

The Vale is an odd region, whilst nominally recognised as it’s own state, it was actually in fact a region of the Dwarven Empire up until the Ogre Rebellion just over two hundred years previously. Largely a human-settled region, it nonetheless also homed populations of dwarves, halflings and even ogres before the rebellion, and produced much of the food the empire required thanks to the Vale’s more fertile soil.

Geographically, The Vale is a pocket of land nestled between the Gallhyr Ranges and Troll Hills to the north and the Barrier Mountains to the south. Whitefish Bay borders the west, and Lake Djopr borders the east. Bisected by the River Dross, which feeds into the Many Mouths, it is an extremely fertile land, and so much of the land is used for farming crops or grazing cattle (cows, goats and predominately sheep).

The south of The Vale borders the old Dwarven Lands, now controlled by the Ogre Holdings. The northern border butts up against the more wild northlands, home to a number of barbarian tribes and ruins.

The capitol of Manheim lies almost centrally, north of the Silken Forest, with Leafton, which holds much of the halfling population to the north of that. Port Finnesheim lies in the far north-west, just below the Crescent Peaks. Kurzak-Hizarn, one of the few surviving dwarven mining towns sits deep in the Gallhyr Ranges. Some hundred years after the Rebellion, an Urdjan Academy, the second establishment of its kind, was founded in the north-east. In recent times, a small village has also popped up in the shadow of the Barrier Fort, which is colloquially known as Barton.Much of the rest of The Vale’s population is spread out amongst many farming towns and goat-herd cottages, as well as several fishing towns scattered up and down the coasts.

As a country, The Vale is largely a poor one, struggling in the wake of the Rebellion. It survives for the most part by trading in food products, but much of its money is tied up in defending Barrier Fort and the coasts from the ogres. It does trade in high-quality silks, but such items are rare and manufactured slowly.

The Vale is currently governed by Thane Efstein Valesborn, a distant ancestor of Bori Steelblade.

History

The Vale was founded and gifted to a force of humans and halflings who were also instrumental in allowing the dwarven army to finally trap and defeat the goblin horde of Grashnalak, at the Many Mouths. The human chieftain, Bori Steelblade, was granted title in reward, and allowed to preside over the area north of the Barrier Mountains, where the inhabitants of the Vale prospered for centuries.

During the rebellion, whilst the Vale’s military was able to deal with the Enchantress’ forces within their borders, they were stymied at the mountain pass and Border Fort by a goblin and ogre force and unable to do much to effect the war. They were able to later hold the pass against the Enchantress’ army with the help of a small dwarven refugee force, but it is likely were it not for the favourable terrain, the Vale would’ve also been lost.

Key Areas

Manheim

Manheim, also known as Kirzak-Mirgar in Dwarven, has always been the capital of The Vale, spreading out from where Steelblade built his hall upon a tall hill in the bend of River Dross. The city guards the main bridges allowing passages north and west over the river. Like many dwarven cities, it also holds a large temple to Fyordin and Donaria, although a number of smaller shrines to other gods are present. A temple to Halja, and its attendant graveyard and barrows is situated on the north side of the Dross.

As the capitol, naturally the city is large and fairly metropolitan, with entire districts populated by halflings and dwarves. The riverside holds a large number of warehouses and markets, serviced by barges. Finally, a large training barracks covers the the southern gate.

Notably, Manheim is also home to the Freelancer's Guild hall. The Freelancers are a mercenary band mainly, but one that also provides craftsmen, and most of it's work comes from supporting the interests of The Vale and it's military.

 

Finnesheim

Ruled by Lady Larensine Ranasholt, Finnesheim is The Vale's second city and its main port into Whitefish Bay. It is home to the Finnesheim Library, which houses a several underground laboratories used by mages and druids for research. The city is guarded by the famous Mariners, a port police unit that expanded into a citywide militia.

The Church of Rana, who presides over the sea is central to the city.

A Druid's circle, cared for by local practitioners and envoys from the Elves, sits on the outskirts of the town.

 

Leafton

A largely Halfling population runs many of the The Vale's breweries, including the important Golden Bee Meadery, which also collects valuable Queen's Honey for use in potion making.

Leafton's lord, Lord Halfred Pinehill, is known for championing Buckhorn, a newly created whiskey.

Barton

Part shanty town, part barracks. Barton sprung up after the fall of the Dwarven Kingdoms in order to service the need for a much larger and more permanent garrison.

The General of the fort, Lord Svienmar Groven, is responsible for administering the town, though he has a light hand as his attention is focused on the defence and garrisoned troops. 

Djoside

A small sleepy fishing town in the north east of The Vale, sitting on the banks of lake Djopr. It is notable for bordering the Vala Woods, source of many witch stories, and for the Lord of the area, Belias Ironwood, going missing years ago, shortly followed by his wife after their son died in a battle near Barton. As such, the Ironwood Manor now lies empty.

 

Apolberge

Home to the Apolsede family who look over a small number of farms in the south east. A larger number of goatherds are present here, using the lower mountain slopes as grazing land.

 

Urdjan College

The second of the three colleges within Alenostr, built one hundred years after the Ogre Rebellion. The Headmaster of this college is the second of the three brothers and works quite closely with the Thanes of The Vale towards protecting the borders. They are heavily responsible for patrolling the Underroad, a old tunnel burrowed beneath the mountains in the east that was partially collapsed and destroyed during the Fall.

 

The Many Mouths

Site of the battle that led to the founding of The Vale, the estuaries of the River Djopr have become a vast swamp infested with undead. It is dotted with lost villages and blanketed in heavy mists, and there are rumours of an old necropolis at its centre. 

 

Lake Djopr

The lake forms a natural border between The Vale and the Northlands, and is used by the Vale partly for fishing and partly as a trade route into the north, as the free town of Crossing lies on the far shore.

 

Silken Forest

A small forest in the south-west that is home to numbers of giant spiders, whose webbing is harvested for use in weaving of high quality clothing that is traded across Alenostr.

Story-fied Dream I Had One Time

"A few nights ago I had this really vivid dream that did the unusual thing of sticking around in my memory. The whole thing was ridiculously intriguing. I wish I could paint a picture of what I saw, but I'll use words instead..."

I had this dream about 18 months ago now, and it's something I'd really like to work into a novel or D&D campaign someday. 

Enjoy!

*** *** *** *** ***

I lowered myself down the rope onto the small rowboat, sitting down opposite the prisoner. He didn't react, or move at all, and just watched me blankly, cradling a bowl of food in his hands. It was a simple meal, baked fish and dried biscuit, what was left of a meal being prepared in the galley when we took the ship.

Incidentally, the Captain had found the prisoner alongside it. He had been the ship's cook, evidenced by the filthy linen apron he still wore.

I didn't like the Captain. He had spotted the small merchant vessel in the distance and moved to intercept it under the cover of night. His ship, supposedly a pilfered naval frigate was more than a match and we outnumbered them three to one. It could've been a simple robbery, but now a dozen innocent men lay bleeding out on the decks just so the Captain become a Commodore.

When the cook had been tossed out onto the deck, I had jumped in a made a case for his life before he could be skewered. There was a small island nearby, he could be dropped off and perhaps rescued later by another merchant ship.

The Captain's cruelty knew no bounds however, and he broke the Cook's leg with a vicious stomp. The snapping sound made my teeth grind even as the Cook screamed. Then, his bloodlust seemingly sated for now, the Captain ordered a dinghy lowered into the water so I could transport the prisoner to the island.

It was easy to see his intent, both ships would be underway before I was even halfway. The Captain had enough of me, I questioned his orders too much, and often deliberately complied in a fashion that ignored the intent but not the word. This was fine with me though, it was time I moved on anyway.

The Cook was then unceremoniously dropped into the dinghy, further breaking his leg so that bone now protruded through skin and muscle and cloth. He wouldn't survive the island now.

With one final glance up at the ship, the Captain standing there with a smug smirk on his face, I took the oars and began to row away. The crew jeered and whistled, but I ignored them and the Cook just wept.

I would have to take him with me I realised. Although he wouldn't be able to go the whole way, it would improve his odds. Time was funny in that place.

The island came into view shortly, and in the dark I could see a small layer of morning mist beginning to grow on the western shore. It was just what I needed, so I steered the boat towards it. As the mist slowly enveloped us, I locked the oars and allowed the small boat to float with the tides. The Cook stared at me confusedly, so I gave him a wry smile and closed my eyes.

I could not explain how it worked, a moment of thought, or meditation, or prayer perhaps, but the mist swirled over us and we moved between one place and the next in a heartbeat.

We were no longer in the open ocean but instead a canal, straight as an arrow and reaching out forward and back as far as the eye could see. Cushioned between red-and-grey brick walls, the water was clear black, making it impossible to see the bottom and instead reflecting the mist around us in a perfect mirror. It perfect width for our dinghy, and even at full extension the oars would not catch on the walls, but then it always was. Dinghy or yacht or cruise ship, no matter the vessel, the canal would accommodate it perfectly.

It was the sky that took my breath away though. The mist pervaded everywhere, never revealing the path more than one hundred strides away. It was not any mere mist however, the silvery-grey lines were there of course, but mixed in with greens and blues and purples. Endlessly swirling, endlessly dancing, the palette reflecting a lighter version of Van Gogh's night sky combined with the Aurora Borealis. Stars moved through it all, carried on the currents, twinkling beautifully in silvers and golds. I fancied they chased each other through the beautiful chaos.

Soon, I heard an engine, and glanced at the road beside the canal. It was time to leave. I stood, and the cook looked worried.

"Good luck," I said, sincerely. "In time, you might find your way out, or find a friend who can show you. You'll be safe until then."

Before he could answer, I leaped ashore. He stammered but was soon too far away to hear. I didn't lie to him, he wouldn't die here. Years could pass with it only being a few minutes from his perspective, and sooner or later he'd be free. I could've freed him myself, but I only had payment for one.

Pausing, I reached out a hand and beckoned one of the stars. It floated down serenely, alighting on my hand gently, a wisp of light no larger than a fingernail. I thought of my destination and it took off again, floating several steps ahead of me.

The engine I heard finally approached, and an open-topped bus came into view. I jumped aboard as it passed, the passengers to in awe to notice one extra. The wisp moved to stay in front of me.

I travelled this way for some time, alighting at certain junctions as the wisp moved to follow a different path from my vehicle. The bus became a horse and wagon, which in turn became an 40's era automobile, then the trailer of an AI-driven HGV.

My journey came to an end at what looked to be a simple tollgate. I paused there for a moment, glancing back through mists I'd come through. Already it just looked like a simple gravel path, no sign of any vehicle or even the canal I'd entered on. I'd been at this spot so many times, leaving behind one world and entering another.It was rare the gravity of it hit me. Wherever I'd been, whatever connections I made, they would all just be memories now. It was near impossible to follow the paths back to a place you wanted to go, only the tollbooth was a constant, and that was merely to guarantee my safety.

This last world had been less than agreeable, but I'd still made friends. I'd never see them again. Them and several hundred others, lost to the mists. Worse, there were worlds out there with people I loved, not least of which was home... wherever that was.

It didn't take a hundred worlds to feel small and alone. Took barely even a dozen. How long would it take to start forgetting faces or voices? Already I wonder how much I remember is mere idealisation. Too perfect versions of people I miss the most, all the edges filed off to give me that extra bump of hope to keep going and maybe see them again. I could stop, of course. Choose a world and settle down, but it never felt quite right. Could be my attachment to Home, to people I've not seen in years, to love that might only exist in my own heart...

It was times like this that you realise how quiet the world is. There was nothing but the sound of my own breath, not even an echo.

Eventually, I turned back to the tollbooth.Within sat a robed and hooded figure with skeletal hands. He, or she, was nearly eight feet tall, and held out a hand to me wordlessly. I placed in it a single copper piece, perfectly made, and left The Road. Onto the next great adventure.