u/Capital-Background22

Garbol will come to his new land, The Arrad, as he is in Boskplain and invites Lionne, Anvard and Ashada (who aren’t moved yet) to come sign the treaty proposed. Here he will meet again with his commander of the third fleet. We have come with a message, and a deal. The agreement would say:
- No more direct attacks or hostilities between these 4 kingdoms, yet the leaders may be allowed to send their force to protect their allies when needed.
- Ashada will leave Therican and move to new lands in Rutland
- The Shadow Realm won’t use their newly acquired lands from Ashada to open portals.
- The Shadow Realm will provide safe passage to Ashada to their new lands (Duskpike or another place).

And let’s have a toast towards a good future together.

(OOC: if I missed/wrote a proposed amendment, please wrong please let me know.)

The forces of the shadow realm leave Duskpike to take their newly land of The Arrad. When they arrive there they will safely bring the Ashada’s forces to their new lands on Rutland.
Also a messenger is send out to Garbol to notify him of the new peace deal between the shadow realm and Anvard, Lionne and Ashada.

When the ship arrived on the isles of Kosara the 3 mages didn’t know what was happening. Why were there ships without men here and what was the message. The three mages were confused and didn’t know what to do.

Luckily Garbol also has sent a messenger, bringing the news of wars and uprising in the west. Telling them that the land under siege was willing to trade with them as entity. Thereby they could not be against the plans of Garbol! So he requests to have these ships filled with warrior that could support the desert kingdom in the middle of the map.

Also has sent a message for one of the 3 mages, Rellornoc, the one who was focused on learning everything there was about fire. “There is a new development, I opened a second portal but sadly I didn’t succeed in keeping it open. I have lost our new friend, the captain. I am currently building new alliances around our freshly claimed lands. I will soon return, but for now I will stay here in the west. After this mission it is important that you come visit me as we have a Ifrit now. You could learn a lot from him and his magic. Also inform Ksyrf that there once was a mighty portal in these lands that we could use for our final goal.”

Garbol didn’t say anything about the other knowledge he had gotten from Lady Ether as he felt that the 3 were up to something and he couldn’t trust them anymore.

The 3 mages listened and send:
16 archers
8 cursed archers
24 long spear grunts
24 small spear grunts with long shields
21 sword fighter grunts with small shields
39 heavy armoured cursed warriors with long shields and varying weapons
3 watchers that will sense for magic
1 captain with a two handed axe
And finally one of the three wizards, Rellornoc would also embark on this journey as he was curious to the lands outside Kosara.

OOC, didn’t give all of them weapons yesterday as it was 2 in the night and I wanted to sleep because of work and such! If for the battle they need to have weapons I will update the picture with weapons later today!

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The army had finally reached the fortress.
Garbol stood before the massive walls with his forces gathered behind him. More than 100 of his soldiers waited in silence, weapons ready, while the banners on the walls moved in the wind.

Without that Garbol knew the fortress belonged to rebels. Sturnig's forces had occupied it after overthrowing Argon, and now it served as one of the strongest defensive positions in the region. Garbol studied the walls. Archers stood along the battlements. Soldiers moved between the towers. The gates remained firmly closed.

Drüundrï stood beside Garbol, his blind eyes fixed upon the fortress. “I feel that they know we are here,” the captain said. Garbol nodded. “Then they know what is coming.” He raised his hand. The army began preparing for the assault. Ladders were brought forward. Weapons were lifted. Soldiers formed their ranks. The commanders waited for Garbol's order.

Then suddenly a horn sounded from the fortress. The defenders began shouting.
Garbol looked upward. Something had changed. The ninja on the walls were no longer simply watching the oncomingforce. They were fighting each other. Steel clashed against steel. Archers fired into the courtyard. Ninja wearing red colours attacked ninja wearing white and blue colours upon the walls.

“What's happening?” one of Garbol's commanders shouted. Garbol stared at the fortress. A battle had erupted inside the defenses. The forces inside were turning against one another. For several moments, nobody understood why.

Then Garbol saw a figure moving through the chaos. A warrior wearing red. He fought his way toward the main gate, cutting down the defenders who attempted to stop him. He reached the gatehouse. The massive mechanisms began to move. Garbol's expression changed. “Hold your positions.”

The soldiers waited. The great gates slowly opened. Behind them stood the warrior. He lowered his weapon and looked directly at Garbol.

“My name is Argon.”

Garbol stepped forward.

Argon wore the armour of the Bloodlings, marked with the deep red symbols of his people. Around him stood several soldiers who had remained loyal to him. “I was the rightful ruler of these lands,” Argon continued. “Until Sturnig betrayed me and took them from me.”

Garbol said nothing. Argon looked toward the army gathered outside the gates. “I knew you were coming.” He stepped aside. “I am part of the Southern Alliance.” Garbol's eyes narrowed.

“You opened the gates for us.”

“Yes.”

Behind Argon, the fighting continued. The rebels had been caught completely unprepared. Some attempted to reach the gates, but Argon's loyal soldiers held them back. Garbol slowly walked toward the entrance. “You could have told us.”

Argon shook his head. “If I had revealed myself before you arrived, Sturnig would have known. The only way to defeat him was from within. I was hiding in the shadows” Garbol looked past Argon and into the fortress.

“And the others?”

“Those who remain loyal to me are fighting beside us.” Argon pointed toward the walls.

“But the rebels are still numerous. And they are not alone.” Garbol looked upward.

Among the defenders he could now see warriors dressed in blue. The Windblessed. Their presence confirmed the rumours. Queen Lunira had supported Sturnig's rebellion with soldiers and supplies. And among them stood another smaller group of warriors dressed entirely in white. The Colderlings. Inshga the White had also sent soldiers to support the resistance.
Garbol smiled.

“So Sturnig has allies.” Argon tightened his grip on his weapon. “So do we.”
Garbol turned toward his army.

“Men, I heard we have some help on the inside!!”

The more then hundred soldiers raised their weapons. The roar echoed across the battlefield. Garbol pointed toward the open gates.

“Advance.”

The army surged forward. Pirates charged beside orcs, earthmen marched alongside goblins and fomorians. The mages raised their staffs, scouts rushed through the opening. The soldiers of Argon joined them. Blending right in with their red markings.

The fortress had been prepared to withstand an attack from outside. It had not been prepared for its own gates to be opened from within. Garbol entered the fortress at the head of the combined forces of the Southern Alliance.

Above him, the battle on the walls grew more violent. Sturnig's rebels fought Argon's loyalists. The Windblessed tried to hold their positions. The Colderlings attempted to reinforce them. And now Garbol's army was pouring through the gates. The rebellion had become a war.

Garbol looked toward the highest tower. Somewhere inside that fortress was Sturnig. The man who had stolen Argon's lands. The man who had betrayed the Bloodlings. Garbol turned to Argon. “Where is he?”

Argon pointed toward the tower. “There.” Garbol smiled. “Then let us take your kingdom back.”

But neither of them noticed the figure watching from the highest battlement. A lone warrior stood among the smoke and chaos. He was not fighting. He was simply watching Garbol. Watching Argon. And watching the armies of the Southern Alliance flood into the fortress. Then he disappeared into the shadows. No one had seen it, but Drüundrï, he had seen it.

The fortress had become a battlefield. Garbol's army poured through the open gates while Argon's Bloodlings fought their way deeper into the fortress. The defenders were caught between enemies they had expected to attack from outside and soldiers who had suddenly turned against them from within. The walls shook beneath the sound of steel. The Windblessed fought desperately to maintain their positions, while the Colderlings attempted to protect the remaining rebel commanders. But the battle was already lost. Garbol's forces pushed through the courtyards, taking one section of the fortress after another.

“Find Sturnig!” Garbol ordered. The command spread through the army. Every soldier knew the name. Sturnig. The former soldier who had betrayed Argon. The man who had taken his lands. The leader of the rebellion. Garbol and Argon wanted him alive. Argon's warriors lead the search through the fortress room by room as the troops of Garbol followed. They found rebel commanders hiding in storage chambers, wounded soldiers attempting to escape through secret passages and officers trying to organize a final defense.

But the fortress was surrounded. There was nowhere left to run. Eventually, the soldiers reached the highest tower. Behind its doors they found Sturnig. He was standing alone.
His armor was damaged, his weapon lying beside him. He had watched his army collapse from the tower and knew that the battle was over.

Argon entered the room first. For several seconds, neither man spoke. Sturnig looked at the former ruler.

“So you returned.”

Argon stepped closer. “You took my kingdom.”

Sturnig gave a bitter smile. “And now you have brought an army to take it back.”

“No,” Argon replied. He looked toward Garbol. “He brought the army.”

Garbol entered the chamber. Sturnig stared at him. “You, who are you?” Garbol said nothing.
Sturnig understood immediately. His rebellion had not been defeated merely by Argon's return. It had been crushed by something far larger. Garbol's army.

Sturnig was seized and placed in chains. His remaining commanders were captured as well. By nightfall, the fortress belonged to Argon once again. But Garbol was not finished. The surviving rebels were gathered in the central courtyard. Hundreds of prisoners stood beneath the watch of Garbol's soldiers. Some had fought because they believed in Sturnig. Others had followed him because they feared him.

Garbol ordered the commanders and those who had remained fiercely loyal to Sturnig separated from the rest. The sentence was immediate. Execution. The prisoners were taken before the fortress walls. One after another, the condemned rebels were beheaded. Their weapons were collected and their banners torn down.

The red banners of Argon were raised once again above the fortress. Sturnig was forced to watch. He had once believed that his rebellion would create a new kingdom. Now he stood in chains while the kingdom he had stolen returned to its former ruler. Garbol approached him.

“You wanted to rule these lands.” Sturnig looked at him with hatred. Garbol continued. “Now you will live long enough to see what becomes of them.” Sturnig was taken away under guard. His fate would be decided later. For the moment, Garbol had more important plans.

Argon's lands had been devastated by months of rebellion. Villages had been burned. Fields had been abandoned. Buildings stood empty. The roads had fallen into disrepair and were unsafe for travel. The fortress itself required months of work. Argon looked across his territory. “I have reclaimed my lands,” he said.

Garbol looked at the ruined settlements. “But they are not yet a kingdom.” Argon understood. Garbol had already planned for this. Back on Kosara, there were hundreds maybe thousands of people who had been captured during the fall of the island. Some had become slaves, because the curse didn’t influence them. Others were cursed humans who lacked the courage to fight, as the transformation that had consumed so much of Kosara's population didn’t change all their minds. They had nowhere to return to. Their homes were gone. Their island had become a wasteland.

Garbol had taken those lands and was bringing in his army from the otherside. Now he ordered them to be transported. Ships would travel between Kosara and Argon's lands, carrying the survivors across the sea. They would be brought to the newly reclaimed territories. Some would work the fields. Others would repair roads and buildings. Builders would restore abandoned settlements. Smiths would work beside Argon's craftsmen. The cursed humans would be placed among the armies and settlements where their abilities could be put to use. They would not simply be prisoners anymore. They would become part of the growing population of Argon's kingdom. And their arrival would change the land.

Day after day, ships appeared along the coast. Men and women stepped onto the docks. Some were slaves. Some were cursed. Some were former inhabitants of Kosara who had lost everything. They looked upon the lands of Argon with uncertainty. But there was work waiting for them. The rebuilding began. Broken walls were repaired. Houses were reconstructed. Fields were cleared. Roads were reopened. The old fortress became the center of a new settlement.

Argon's soldiers returned to their former barracks. Garbol's forces established their own quarters. The pirates brought supplies through the harbor. And slowly, the ruined territory began to live again. Garbol watched the transformation from the fortress tower. Kosara had given him an army. Argon had given him a new place to make a portal. The Southern Alliance had given him allies.

And now the lands of Argon were becoming something more. A place where armies could build. A place where supplies could be stored. A place where new soldiers could be trained.
And, perhaps most importantly, a place where Garbol could continue his search for the magic he needed. Deep beneath the land, the ancient power still waited. He felt it in the north in the mountains The portal he desired was not forgotten. It was only waiting. Garbol turned toward the horizon. Kosara lay somewhere beyond the sea. Enterior was rescued, but Exagon remained unexplored. And somewhere in those lands, the ancient magic was calling. The war for Argon's kingdom was over. But Garbol's conquest had only just begun. And with him he had a new army that had joined him for his quest, adding 100 black knights wearing the colours of the new army on the rise.

The troops have landed, they find their first base of resistance in a town of ninja. No one will stand in their way and no one will stop the force that has started to move.

After Garbol had sent out his scouts: “Find out what lies upon the isles, and a little further. And return with more than rumors.”

When the scouts returned. They brought news, supplies and some men. They also told about the southernmost isle of Kosara. There stood a pirate camp. Its inhabitants were not ordinary pirates. Orcs marched alongside earthmen, goblins, gnomes and fomorians trained together, while a strange group of cursed men wandered among them, men who had been on Kosara when the mysterious portal had opened and something from beyond their world had spilled through.

But the strangest tale concerned their captain. His name was Drüundrï. Once a feared pirate, now Drüundrï had been touched by the curse of the portal. His eyes were useless in the mortal world. He could not see the ships around him, the faces of his crew, or even the blade of an enemy standing before him.

Yet he was far from blind. Drüundrï could see into the Shadow World. To him, the darkness was alive. Shadows had shapes, spirits moved like figures through mist, and things invisible to ordinary men revealed themselves clearly. His curse had robbed him of sight in one world while granting him sight in another.

When Garbol's forces finally arrived at the southern isle, the pirate camp prepared for battle. But Drüundrï did not order his men to attack. Instead, he stood upon the walls, his blind eyes staring into a realm no one else could see. Then he spoke.

“Your arrival has been foretold.”

Garbol stepped forward.
“By whom?”

Drüundrï turned his head toward the mage.
“By the shadows.”

The two leaders faced one another in silence. Drüundrï knew that Garbol was no ordinary conqueror, he also was a servant. The mage carried a power unlike anything the pirates had encountered. Garbol, meanwhile, sensed that the cursed captain possessed knowledge that could not be learned through books or ordinary magic.

At last, Drüundrï lowered his weapon.
“I surrender,” he said. His crew stared at him in disbelief. Their captain had never surrendered. Not to kings. Not to armies. Not to monsters. But this was not surrender born from fear. It was a choice.

Garbol approached Drüundrï and placed his hand upon the captain's shoulder. Magic passed between them. For a moment, the world seemed to disappear, and Garbol felt what Drüundrï saw; the endless Shadow World lying on the other side of the portal. Figures moved in the darkness. Ancient creatures watched from beyond the veil. And then it switched to this realm, he felt far away, two great lands, they appeared like distant flames.

Enterior.
Exagon.

Garbol pulled away, his expression changed. “There is something beyond Kosara,” he whispered. Drüundrï smiled. “I have been there, I can guide you.”

From that day onward, the mage and the cursed captain were bound by a strange magical bond. Garbol would provide the armies and magic needed to conquer the lands ahead. Drüundrï would provide his ships, his pirates, and the knowledge he had gained from his many years in this realm. Together, they would conquer Enterior and Exagon.

But there was another reason Garbol was willing to follow Drüundrï. For years, rumors had spread among the pirates about a hidden place somewhere beyond the lands they knew, a place where magic flowed through the earth itself. Some claimed it was an ancient sanctuary. Others believed it was the source of the portal that had cursed Drüundrï and his men. The cursed men among the crew were certain of one thing. Remember they had not seen Kosara since the opening of the portal.

The magic was real. And Drüundrï had seen it. As the fleet prepared to leave Kosara, orcs loaded weapons onto the ships while earthmen repaired the battered vessels. The cursed men stood silently along the shore, staring toward the horizon. Garbol boarded the flagship beside Drüundrï.

“Are you certain you can guide us?” Garbol asked. Drüundrï tilted his head. “I cannot see your world.” He smiled faintly. “But I can see the world on the other side.”

The sails were raised. The fleet departed the southern isle, behind them lay Kosara. Ahead lay Enterior, Exagon, and perhaps the mysterious source of magic that had begun this entire chain of events. And somewhere beyond the veil of shadows, something was watching them sail toward it.

With him he brought 80 pirates, 10 elite soldiers, 8 scouts, 4 commanders, 2 mages, 2 messengers and the captain.

The island of Kosara was utterly empty, besides a few buildings. Every living thing that had once called it home had been transferred to the dungeons in the Shadow Realm or had transformed into a new creature, leaving behind a silent and lifeless land.

As Garbol and his followers walked across the barren desert, he noticed something rising from the sands in the distance. At first, he thought it was nothing more than another forgotten ruin. But as he drew closer, he realized he had stumbled upon the remains of an ancient castle.

Its towers were cracked and weathered, its walls covered in moss and dust, and its great gates had not opened for generations. The castle stood alone in the desert, slowly being reclaimed by the land around it.

Finding it had been pure luck. Garbol had simply happened to walk past it during his travels across Kosara. Had he taken another path, he might never have known the castle existed.

Yet as he stood before its ancient walls, Garbol saw more than a ruin.

He saw a home.

A fortres.

And perhaps the beginning of something far greater.

As leader of the army, Garbol knew that strength alone would not be enough. The warriors pouring through the portal grew in number with every passing day, and they were not all alike. Men and women marched beside strange creatures of unfamiliar nature, each answering the call of the portal. Soon, the old castle would become the heart of a growing force.

But an army needed more than walls.

They needed shadow, weapons, storage, resting quarters, workshops, shrines and spaces for those who would arrive tomorrow.

And, most importantly, they needed a way off the island.

Scouts soon discovered the truth.

There were no roads leading beyond the island. No neighboring settlements. No distant kingdoms waiting to trade. The surrounding waters were wild and treacherous, and whatever civilisation had once existed here had vanished long ago.

Garbol's forces possessed only four vessels: three small trading boats and a single ship capable of carrying people to and from Kosara.

The island had to give up its secrets.

There was another matter that concerned Garbol even more.

The first portal remained open.

Through it, warriors continued to arrive, and every day their numbers increased. But Garbol had begun to wonder whether the portal could offer more than soldiers.

There were legends among the followers of a second gateway; one that could be opened somewhere upon or near the island, in a place where the boundary between the worlds was thin.

A place of magical importance.

A place where something far more terrible could cross.

If such a creature could be brought through and bound to Garbol's cause, it could become a weapon unlike anything the world had seen. Something powerful enough to tear through enemy lines and give the growing army a chance against whatever forces might eventually come searching for them.

But first, they needed to find the place.

Garbol could not send hundreds of soldiers wandering blindly across the island. They needed eyes above the ground.

One of his most devoted followers volunteered.

Before the assembled army, the follower stepped into the ancient magic. Bones shifted. Flesh twisted. Wings unfolded from his back and started flaming pure purple, as his body became something made for the sky.

A watcher with a big eye.

The newly transformed creature rose into the air and circled above the castle.

From that height, the island looked entirely different.

Forests stretched across its interior. Cliffs plunged into black waters. Hidden valleys disappeared beneath mist. Old towns could be seen between the trees, and far beyond them stood places untouched by the army's scouts.

The watcher flew farther.

He searched for useful materials, abandoned buildings, hidden settlements and anything that could help the army establish itself.

But Garbol had given him one final command.

Find the magic.

Find the place where another gate might be opened.

And so the watcher disappeared beyond the castle walls, carried by the wind over the unknown island.

Below him, the army continued to grow.

The ancient castle slowly awakened.

Fires burned in its courtyards. Warriors occupied its halls. Supplies were carried through its gates. Smiths began repairing forgotten weapons, builders measured ruined chambers, and scouts prepared to explore the wilderness.

Garbol stood upon the highest tower and watched the distant figure of the watcher vanish into the clouds.

They had arrived on the island with almost nothing.

Now they had more then nothing:
Three trading boats.
One transport ship.
An ancient castle.
And an ever-growing army emerging from a portal that should never have existed.

Garbol did not see weakness.

He saw the beginning of a kingdom.

And somewhere beyond the horizon, hidden among the island's forgotten places, something waited.

Perhaps it was a ship.

Perhaps it was the key to another civilisation.

Or perhaps it was the magical place where the second gate could open.

Each month, merchant ships sailed across the seas toward the island of Kosura, carrying food, merchandise, and countless other goods. But on this particular day, something felt different.
As the ships approached the island, the merchants noticed that the wind had changed. A strange darkness seemed to hang over Kosura, and a thin haze of dust and shadow covered the land. Even from the sea, the island appeared to have lost some of its familiar warmth.

As the first ships approached the docks, the merchants expected to see the island's mages waiting for them. Normally, one of the elders would be there to welcome the traders and oversee the unloading of their cargo.

But there was no one waiting for them.

Instead, the harbor was occupied by unfamiliar figures dressed in black armor. Strange, dark-red markings ran along their armor, resembling the designs worn by warriors from the southern lands.

The merchants did not recognize them.

"Hey! Help us unload these ships!" one of the traders shouted. "And someone go find one of the mages!"

Without giving the strange soldiers much thought, the merchants turned toward their cargo and began searching for the correct crates.

They never saw the attack coming.

Steel and axes tore through them before they could even react. Their final glimpse of the world was of a dark, brown-tan face hidden behind a sinister mask.

Kosura had already fallen.

The horror had begun long before the merchants arrived.
In his pursuit of greater power, a magician had begun experimenting with forbidden spells on the earth dwellers and ground men of the island. His experiments twisted their bodies and minds, transforming them into creatures without reason or mercy.

They had only one purpose:

Destroy. Conquer. Kill. Dominate.

But the magician wanted something even greater.

He attempted to create a monster more powerful than anything he had ever made before. Instead, the spell went horribly wrong.

The magic spread across the island.

One by one, the inhabitants of Kosura were cursed, including the ancient wizards who had once protected the island. Their minds were consumed, their powers corrupted, and their wills bent toward destruction.

From the catastrophe emerged Garbol, a wizard who, despite his corruption, remained connected to the immense powers he once possessed.

Under Garbol's influence, Kosura became a wasteland.

Those who remained unaffected were few. They hid in abandoned settlements, caves, and ruins, desperately trying to survive while Garbol's possessed armies hunted them across the island.

But the curse was only the beginning.

Deep beneath Kosura, the Blood Dragons had been performing rituals of their own.
Through their dark ceremonies, they had weakened the veil separating the mortal realm from Hell. Ancient magic tore at the barrier between worlds, creating cracks through which the power of the Beyond began to seep.

And now, they saw an opportunity.

The captured mages of Kosura would become sacrifices in one final ritual.

The Blood Dragons gathered the surviving mages, binding them within a vast ritual chamber. Their powers, once used to protect Kosura, would now be consumed to tear the veil open once more.

The ritual began.

Dark flames rose.

The air itself screamed.

The boundary between worlds split apart.

And through the opening came an army.

Not an army born from Kosura, but one from beyond it, warriors marching straight out of the shadow real and into the ruined island.

The Blood Dragons did not resist them.

They welcomed them.

To the invading army, they offered the fallen island as a gift:

Kosura would become their new domain.

The possessed armies of Garbol had already conquered the island's people.

The Blood Dragons had broken its barriers.

And now something far worse had arrived from beyond the veil.

Kosura was no longer merely a cursed wasteland.

It had become a gateway to the shadow realm. More soldiers and armies are waiting to cross over to Kosura.

Especially with these torso’s I keep struggling!
I like the most left 2, the drstrange legs and Rex his legs the most what are your thoughts?

So what are your favourite pairings of leggings for these torso’s? (Photos from the interwebs)

This feels sad man… I guess I will have to buy the cloths/cape on BL! Never seen this before, missed pieces in the past but always had good costumer service.

He is very small, found in the Netherlands. And he kind of moves like a walrus. So he has two big legs and that almost looks like what he uses to move around. He is very friendly and he doesn’t like to eat my leaves. Every time he puts his head up and looks at me like: “put me down, man!”.

I found this in a second hand store in the Netherlands and I have no clue what it is. I first thought maybe a bread cutter or something like that but you could hang it.

It was paired with a cabinet and the thing in the middle is moveable. It looks old fashioned and the sellers there also didn’t know what it could be.

This will go perfect into my eastern castle world, I love this set!

Today I had the time to go back and they were still there! So I bought 15 of them (that was all) they are indeed puzzle books with pieces of lore in them. They are in Dutch, but they are awesome! So I had a lot of you guys that wanted one on my post the day before yesterday. If you still want one, I have 14 to send out! I don’t need to make a profit, but if you want to pay me the cost of shipping plus the price of the magazine (so €2 + shipping) I will send them! (If this counts as selling and it isn’t allowed here sorry! I just want to help the people that wanted one.) best Joris

I was in a shop today and saw a load of these magazines, are they made by Lego? And if not are they a new release? I haven’t seen any bionicle merc for ages and especially not the magazines!

Dear Croatians, I was walking on a beach and saw all these shells, corals and 4 crystals there. (Like 15m away from the coastline) I would love to take some home (not all of them) but I don’t want to be rude. Is it allowed to take some of these? I heard some are not allowed to be taken and I couldn’t find a good page. I want to choose the one that I like the most and then put the others back on the beach. Could anyone tell me if it is okay to do? Otherwise I will put them all back in the sea. I see a lot of vendors sell the exact same shells in glass jars for 20/30 euros, and I live on a budget so a free one would be amazing! Especially the last one as it is a fossilised shell.

First pic is the son of basil after basil saw the light and turned into stone.
Second pic are the other 3 sons of basil, who let their youngest brother take the crown as they felt it was cursed.
Third pic shows the generals in his army.
Fourth pic shows the grunts.
Fifth pic shows the archers.
Sixth pic shows the heavy knights.
Seventh pic is the uncle of the king.
Eight and ninth are his troops.
Tenth pic shows a neighbouring was lord with his messenger and 3 guards.
Eleventh pic just shows his grunts.

First pic shows my emperor and his 3 sons.
Second pic shows the council of advisors.
Third pic shows the 3 highest commanders.
Fourth pic shows the tax collectors.
Fifth pic shows the royal guard.
Sixth pic shows the royal knights.
Seventh pic shows the elite knights.
Eight pic shows the lower knights.
Ninth pic shows the archers.
Tenth pic shows the grunts.