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Showing results for tags 'Warlords of Nocturnus'.
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Note: This build takes place, chronologically, before Phase 1 or Phase 2 and concerns Altiera's company's last battle as mercenaries, sometime before her auguries and the events of the civil war in Nocturnus turned her attention homeward. Note 2: I didn't do a Dramatis Personae section for this MOC. I may add one later. Note 3: This is my first battle scene in a MOC. As such, I "performed" it procedurally and there will be A LOT of pics. More on flickr, of course. Note 4: I definitely need to do some Mitgardian builds after this one if only to make up for the violence. Oh dear. Some months ago, in the borderlands between Avalonia, Kaliphlin and Mitgardia. Altiera, girded for war, stands atop a spike of naked rock overlooking a shallow stream and the woodlands beyond. The woodlands should not be there, she knows. They are not on the maps. She calls her angels to her, and says 'show me the world' and they oblige her. The angels are her bounded spirits of war. Avatars of the Faelites' tripartite Ethos of War: Perphesae, who inspires the battle hunger in warriors (low left). Aktronae, who favors skill at arms and valor afield (middle). Thaphae, who expects warriors to fight and live as if already dead (right). The dark angels show Altiera the truth of things. The trees that are not trees, that show on no map, are in fact the last strength in arms of Caradoc, once a Hand of Corruption callaborator and now a petty lord of a marauders' fief in the borderlands. It is he who Altiera has come to destroy. Altiera rolls the dice on Caradoc not yet realizing his ruse has been discovered. She calls up her forces as if to march across the ford. She passes her sight onto her company with a gesture and a word. She is proud of their discipline as they stare across the stream at the host of soldiers, complete with a company of Mitgardian mercenaries and their war dogs, who would ambush them. Before Caradoc can give an order, the restless Mitgardians sound their warhorn and prepare to charge while they believe they have the advantage of illusion. Before Caradoc can stop them, the Mitgardians charge while Caradoc's men and women-at-arms wait for a proper order as their training dictates. Altiera's own troops do not flinch as the Mitgardian warcries wash over them. Only at the last possible moment does Ferric give the order to stop the Mitgardian mercenaries cold. She slaps one of their dogs away with her ensorcelled shield as her men punish the Mitgardians for their eagerness. Caradoc cannot believe his eyes as a third of his company falls in seconds. The aftermath. Altiera takes first blood. And quickly presses her advantage, leading the charge personally. She is at home in the pound of feet, the battlecries of her warriors, for she has always found her home to be the melee. TO BE CONTINUED IN A SECOND POST LATER!
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Note: This build takes place before Phase 1 and depicts the process by which Altiera made the determination to march back to Nocturnus. Nine weeks ago, somewhere northeast of Cedrica. Altiera and her Faelite army have recently camped in the woodlands below the northern arm of the Rakath Mountains. It's been a few months since their last major battle and her men are growing merry and fat despite all her and her captains' attempts to keep them fit and trained. Searching for guidance in the Old Way of the line of her mothers stretching back a thousand years, Altiera finds her path in the vitae of a beast. Altiera's camp sprawls for almost a mile. Her own tent, near the perimeter where she can perform her auguries uninterrupted, is the setting for this scene. But she is not alone. She is aware of them, her dark angels, and she can see them when she chooses, even speak to them. Her camp, however, remains unaware of them. Captain Saliera has the balance of her sword checked by Altiera's master smith. Meanwhile, Bashra, another of Altiera's officers, waits to see if the smith has finished with his own weapons. Sgt. Ferric, the Crimson Bolt, shares the fire with one of her pikewomen. She's not quite sure how she feels about sharing a drink, though. Meanwhile, a crossbowman keeps an eye on the perimeter near one of the camp's tents. On the perimeter of the camp, another crossbowman keeps watch. Altiera's men are used to her auguries. If she weren't busy, she'd have one of her captains deal with these two who are having an argument over a pot of soup. Altiera's magical services come from these two, the only ones in her army even vaguely aware of the powers she is calling upon to set a new course for her followers. A view of the full camp. DRAMATIS PERSONAE Altiera the Blood Augur Altiera's blood magic occasionally unnerves her men, but it is an ancient Faelite tradition and therefore they respect it. Altiera sheds her armor and dons a foci and robes to go with her ceremonial dagger and chalice whilst performing auguries and rites. Sergeant Bashra Also known as The Whirling Dervish, Bashra's status as an officer is considered a formality as he eschews the giving of orders and prefers to fight in the melee on his own, with as much space around him as possible for the ideal use of his twin swords. Bashra, not unlike Breka, is less xenophobic than other Faelites and has adopted Kaliphlin stylings and dress. Beragail At 46 years old, she has seen much of the world and learned the healing arts, both magical and mundane, from some of the best healers in Historica. Now she serves Altiera for her own reasons, though she disapproves of blood magic. Telamon Altiera's battle-mage is responsible for warding arms and armor to give her army an edge in combat. Telamon, like Beragail, serves Altiera for his own reasons. He's almost seventy years old but claims to be much older. He is also given to claims of power that he seldom demonstrates tangibly. Ephrane the Blacksmith A favorite of Altiera's, Ephrane is responsible for all the arms and armor maintenance and often works closely with Telamon to do upkeep on spells and wards as well. Ephrane is well-liked among Altiera's army for fighting alongside them, without armor, and for his hundreds of scars taken in battles throughout his long career. Altiera gives it a token attempt before every battle to convince him not to fight, but it never works. Camp Troops
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As I understood it, the Warlords of Nocturnus Challenge is open to everyone except the title can only be claimed by Nocturnians. I have had an idea for a character and army based on the underground comic Artesia by Mark Smylie for a while now and humbly submit this as a title-less entry into WoN. Six weeks ago, somewhere North of the Fallen Angel. Altiera the Exile... a name made famous in recent times by a string of victories in battles that name had no place in. All across Historica, Altiera, who was once called The Maiden, has fought the wars of men. Her homeland is Carr Veron, an ancient citadel on the East side of Butcher's Bay, in the shadow of the great Mountain. It is home to the Faelites, a clannish race of pale humans that dwell in the fertile (for Nocturnus) plains of Faelon. The story of Altiera's exile is famous among her people, but a secret to outsiders. Some whisper that she is destined to become a Queen, uniting the Faelite clans , others that she simply wants all of Historica to know her name before she carves it into the forehead of the man who exiled her. All know her to practice the Old Magic, the Blood Magic, and commune with spirits and demons to send most men to flight in terror and awe. Uniquely anthrocentric in all the diversity of Nocturnus, the Faelites have long kept their territory free of nonhuman habitation, but perhaps things have changed in Altiera's long absence? Nocturnus has been carved up and divided and change is in the air. All the way from the heartlands of Historica, Altiera and her followers could smell it. Now they stand posed on the border of Nocturnus, a short distance from the Labyrinths they once knew well, ready to at last go home. Altiera gives a speech to some of her troops as they prepare to cross into Nocturnus. One of her pikemen flies her personal banner, which she had made when she decided to return to Nocturnus. The usual Red and Gold are broken by Black to signify the sundering of the Darklands and the presence of the Black Spire. Some say she will not rest until she can tear the black from the banner with her own hands. Others say she cares nothing for the politics of the realm, only her vengeance against the Petty King of Carr Veron, who slaughtered her family and sent her into exile. Her men stand in a grassy, boulder-strewn field. Altiera uses a boulder as a natural stage. Behind her is a Sanguine Palm, a type of tree native to Nocturnus. It's blood-red sap is visible through natural cracks in the black bark. "This tree behind me is a symbol! There are none like it in all the length and breadth of Historica save here, in Nocturnus, where even the bloody trees can flourish alongside the bloody folk! What land can be more home to the Faelites, to you the warmakers of Carr Veron?" "None!" And so it was that Altiera led her Veronian army back into war-torn Nocturnus in search of home and vengeance. None know what they will find in the wastelands and dark forests in all the miles between then and now, but Altiera has made herself and her people as ready as she can. Now all that's left is the test posed by the campaign itself, the only test that she has ever cared about. DRAMATIS PERSONAE Altiera the Exile She is only 24 years old but already the veteran of 16 major engagements. She is well loved by her men, partially because she always fights among them. They vy for her favor constantly and rumor is that her affections are shared among any who prove themselves in her service. Captain Saliera She is 34 years old and one of Altiera's closest and most trusted companions. She is sometimes called "The Washwoman" because legend has it that she was a camp follower and washer of clothes before Altiera raised her into service. She has never confirmed the rumor. Captain Ekta Ekta spent his youth touring Nocturnus and is one of the lest xenophobic Faelites you're likely to encounter. His scarification and piercings are mementos of his time among the wilder, demihuman tribes he's lived among. He's an old friend of Altiera's mother's and swore to protect the young girl when she was exiled. He denies that he's actually Altiera's father. Captain Breka Ekta's younger, more conservative brother. Due to their feuding, it actually took Altiera's exile and long years fighting side by side to reconcile them. When she took up leadership of the army and came of age, Altiera made Breka a captain and took him as one of her more regular lovers. Sergeant Ferric and her Pikemen Also called The Crimson Bolt, Ferric has refused promotion a total of seven times. At the age of 29, she has been fighting for Altiera since the day she was exiled and has proven herself a stern battlefield commander most at home in the thick of the shield-wall with her trusted men. The runic lightning on her shield was a gift from Altiera, a sigil of strength and command that is rumored to help her shield withstand any weapon of magic or metal.
