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I'm starting a new storyline, taking place mostly in the upper marches of the Muk-Muk Valley, east of Messahmuk, and west of Ras-el-Akhen. Some of my existing characters, such as Gex, will be involved. It will probably involve a lot of small builds. Hopefully I can keep building at a good pace. Gex Marmota, on his way Ras-el-Akhen, has stopped to see an old friend, Lord Garsandhi of South Sandstuck, whom he hasn't seen in ten years. South Sandstuck is a poor holding, in the hills of the eastern edges of the Muk-Muk Valley. Garsandhi is reviewing the new town walls, which are almost completed, while Gex talks to his nineteen year old daughter. "Your father seems quite proud of his new town walls," said Gex. "My father is a pompous old fool," replied Lady Sharitah, "and drunk half the time since my mother passed away. It will take a lot more than these walls to protect South Sandstuck if our wonderful neighbors attack. And the walls are cheaply built, with no reinforcing. He wasted his money on gilding the fancy gateway instead of ensuring that the walls are strong and solid." "The lord was a valiant and great warrior in his day," Gex replied, "He rode with Barmexi in the Tri-Guild War, and slew Marganzus the Bog Giant. You do have unscrupulous petty nobles for neighbors here, but none would dare attack your father, and the walls, no matter how sloppy, will just reinforce that." Lord Garsandhi Sharitah scoffed. "Good thing they're scared of him. My father is certainly not the fighter he used to be." Gex reprimanded her, "Your father was a great man, and he's been a good father to you. You should show more respect. South Sandstuck may not be much, but your father has built it up from nothing, and raised himself out of very humble origins." "I'm sorry," said Sharitah, penitent, "He has been a good father. We've just had a few tough years. The holding is still poor, and he no longer has the will to manage it. I see that if I am to make anything of myself, I'll have to do it myself, with a strong and firm hand." "Well, good luck, and let me know if Wyndifera and I can help," said Gex, "I'd be better be on my way if I'm to make to Lesser Drymouth by nightfall." Gex and Sharitah "You're not staying with that snake Zertanex, are you?" Sharitah gave him a worried look. "He would sell his own mother if he thought it would help him expand his dominion beyond that dump of Lesser Drymouth. He keeps asking for my hand, but I told father that I'd kill them both if he betrothed me to that unscrupulous scum! If I must be married off, it will be for a lot more than three hardscrabble villages and a dimpled smile." This one is smarter than your average nineteen year old, Gex thought, Zertanex is the most handsome and charming noble around, and any other unmarried young noblewoman would beg to be the object of his attentions. "I imagine your father won't be fooled at all by the likes of Zertanex," he replied. "And neither am I. However, the lord's hospitality is rightly well renowned. There's no where else to stay this side of Wormhold, and I'm not about to cross Altavurm Pass alone at night, especially since the werewolves have moved back into the hills." "Next time, you must stay with us," Sharitah smiled. "My father is not the host Zertanex might be, but he could certainly entertain you with his old war stories over a few bottles of fine wine. And you wouldn't have to watch your purse or your reputation." "Thank you, I will. And come to visit us in Messahmuk, or Marja-Rhytaville. The Countess would love to see you, and I'm sure a week in the city would do you good." "I will. Take care on the road," she replied as Gex rode away to the east. I'd like to claim a UoP walls credit. This is a new technique for me.
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[Apologies in advance for the long story on what is a fairly small MOC.] Continuing the story of Lady Sharitah (started in South Sandstuck's New Walls) Meet Zertanex, lord of Lesser Drymouth, a small, poor holding in the upper Muk-Muk Valley, and neighbor to South Sandstuck. He is dashing, charming, and handsome. In fact, so much so, that in spite of the poverty and small size of his lands, he is considered the most eligible noble bachelor in the valley. He also is well aware of his traits, and is quite willing to use them to his advantage. Zertanex cuts a dashing figure, riding his camel across the long, windswept sand dunes in the soft evening glow, with a ruined ancient temple in background. His clothes are well tailored, with an elegant and slightly flashy design. His carefully styled black hair whips back behind him. He has a huge smile, and brilliant, engaging eyes. He's the kind of man everyone likes, on first impression at least, and everyone wants to be liked by him. But look closer and there's a different picture: his clothes are slightly out-of-fashion and a tiny bit frayed, although carefully repaired. Crows-feet are edging in around his eyes, and his hair has the dark, midnight purple sheen of the garfuzi oil the Spice Islanders use to cover up their gray. He fidgets impatiently, and furtively looks about, making sure everyone's attention is on him. He appears anxious and in a hurry. And he is. Zertanex is getting old, his mid-thirties in a time when most don't see forty. In spite of his advantages, he still hasn't made it big, hasn't really yet become someone truly important. He knows he must apply his cunning charm and make his big move soon. He rides out of the sand and onto firmer, stonier ground covered with desert scrub, triumphantly brandishing a large golden staff. "I've done it!" exclaimed Lord Zertanex, "I've taken the Scepter of Amon-Jhar!" "Oooh, pretty!" admired Berpadstra, one of his lieutenants, trusty but somewhat dim. "Is it solid gold?" asked Voltanju, his vizier, who has served three generations of lords of Lesser Drymouth. "No, just covered in gold plate. But the sapphires are real. It's still bloody heavy though," said Zertanex. "Uh, what does it do again?" asked Berpadstra. "It has unspeakable powers! And it's probably worth a fortune on the black market." "What powers exactly?" wondered the vizier, always practical. "I don't know, they're unspeakable!" Zertanex was impatient. "The legends are a bit unclear on that one. Probably the usual invincibility in battle, crops that never fail, fabulous luck with the ladies (not that I need help in that department!)…" "I have a bad feeling about this, sire. We should let the ancient ones lie. And what of the curse of Amon-Jhar? The mummies of revenge?" "Oh, don't be such a ninny, Voltanju" scowled Zertanex. "Really, are you my vizier, or a nursemaid? No one believes those old wives' tales. And besides, you should have seen the size of those massive blocks of stone holding down the lids of their sarcophagi. No one's going to be able to move them." "I don't know, sire." The vizier still wasn't convinced. "Your father always showed great respect for the old legends, and never interfered with the temple. He said that having an ancient temple, even if ruined, helped protect the holding..." "Right, and look at all he achieved!" scoffed Zertanex, waving his hands at the arid landscape. "I give you Lesser Drymouth in all its glory! And don't forget the outlying villages of Wyther Wyndzwepd and Frogterd. Really, all together this holding barely has enough income to pay my hair stylist!" "Now, sire, this is a good holding, and the villagers work hard…" "Enough!" commanded Zertanex angrily. "Those lazy serfs! Don't remind of me of how pathetic this place is! If you love this place so much, figure out a way we can conquer some new territory, so I can afford to move to Messahmuk or Petraea, and let you run this dump." Closeup of the Temple of Amon-Jhar First of all, I can't believe I managed to build and post two MOCs in less than a week. I'm not sure I've ever been able to do that on EB. Thanks to Gideon, whose beautiful sand-dune design I have blatantly ripped off! I'd like to claim the following UoP credits: Microscale (for the temple), Landscape Design - Sand Dunes, Geography - Desert, and one tree technique. C&C welcome of course. Hopefully more to come. Enjoy!
