Art: Steampunk Concepts

I have kept this project under wraps for about a month and a half now, but it's the main reason I haven't been posting so much. This is my entry for GameXpo's Steampunk Art Contest - a conference which is occurring this weekend. For me, it's a more formal foray into game artwork.

The setting draws from and visually defines the previous alternate universe Steampunk headworld of Rivek. I truly enjoy translating my characters into different worlds because it's a mental challenge of maintaining their personalities in the different environment. Like, how would their occupations change? Their clothing? Their histories?

"The Bow and the Rose" is the love story of a vigilante and a duke's daughter. In this universe, steam power (much like nuclear power) was invented during war. As a result, there are two classes: the people who use steam power and the people who make it. With Steampunk being itself an idealism of Victorian ideals, this story involves what kind of history-inspired idealism would be present in a Steampunk world. It also requires some (a lot) of suspension of disbelief ...


Ari Kovalev is a direct analogy to Rivek. Rivek's initials are A. A. R. I. and the history behind the Alisian religion mirrors that of Judiasm. He is a middle-management coal-shoveler, a peacetime position inherited form his father. He idolized his father and picked up all his mechanical knowledge through oral tradition and experimentation. Thus, he only has colloquial literacy. However, while the two of them were serving in the military, an accident happened. Ari lost his arm, and his father lost his life. The coat he wears is his father's, but modified to suit his form.

Ari has a Robin Hood belief that there shouldn't be such a large division between classes. After all, a low-life like him could build a working mechanical arm. He holds onto this notion frm his grandfather - that times were much simpler and happier prior to the war which produced steam technology. Hence, his prefferred weapon is a bow. It's primitive in design, but it hints at the meritocracy Ari would prefer. Unlike uncontrollable steam power, a bow can only be lethal in the right hands.


A close-up of the portrait. The wires are actually stitched to his neck... and he's always covered in dirt.


Solaris Williamsburg is from the other side of the tracks, a rich girl who grew up knowing all the wonderous luxuries provided by steam power. Her counterpart, Willowren is a princess whose spoiled existence is finally interrupted when she makes contact with people of different background than hers. Her uncle is a rich and powerful duke who prefers to treat her like a caged bird. However, when people are affluent, they tend to invest money in culture and the arts. Thus, Solaris knows all about history, and she is smitten with fairy tales of dashing men rescuing the downtrodden. So, any instance she can, she leaves her quarters and drops roses in places Ari will find them. She is not in love with him - persay - just the ideals he stands for.


I put quite a bit of thought into the arm. It's meant to be a replacement, not something superpowered. Therefore, it's modeled after human anatomy. There is bone underneath, providing it with mechanical force. However, during the accident, most of Ari's flesh had been damaged so badly it had to be removed. The brass arm requires regular maintenance and cleaning to avoid infection. The point where it joins into Ari's shoulder is his main physical weakpoint, and it has actually disfigured the anatomy there.

Ari is left-handed, so he continues to do most things with his biological hand - especially those which require fine accuracy.


During their courtship, Ari gives Solaris a mechanical bird he built. It's a music box made of brass. It's a swallow, his symbol. She returns in kind with roses.


I've been taking a Game Design and Development course. I like it, but I am learning that game mechanics is not my strength. I can easily implement things and come up with good art/settings - but like it bores me to tears trying to come up with the optimal equipment for my lovingly back-storied, Dungeons and Dragons character. (By the by, his name is Robin Ian Batman, and he is a sixteen-year-old druid boy with a bear... who turns into a bear... and has a bag of tricks which can make more bears...) But hey, if anyone needs a look or setting for there game, I'm so there.

Writing: The Tailor's Daughter

Trying plots for my Advanced Animation project in Concept Art and Story Development. Here is the first. It's a re-working of something I wrote this summer.

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Once upon a time, there lived a girl, a tailor, and a magic cat in a house overlooking the sea. All the lands' royal families knew of the silken garments produced within the house, embroidered with silver and softer than lambskin.

However, few knew the family's secret. Fascinated by her father's talent, Tarsa the Weaver blessed the girl with magic, silver, hair, softer than any material found in nature. Each day, the tailor cut the girl’s hair to make his famous clothing, and every night it would grow until it brushed the floor. Tarsa also blessed their cat, giving him power to talk.

"Now," the goddess warned, "this cat is my watchman, and he will make sure you do not abuse my gift."

Afraid his secret would leak, the tailor convinced the girl that she was so frail that she would fall immediately ill if she left their house. Therefore, each day when the tailor went to market, the girl and the cat would count the sea birds that flew by her window.

The girl would long to know where they went. On her sixteenth birthday, she turned to the cat, and asked “Why do I feel so sad?”

“It is because you are lonely,” he purred.

She had never heard this word before. “Lonely? What does that mean?”

The cat laughed wryly, “Tonight, cut your own hair, and in the darkness, weave a silver net. When your father leaves for work tomorrow, cast your net to the sky and catch a sea bird. Then, you will understand what ‘lonely’ is.”

So, the girl followed the cat’s instructions and pretended to be sick the next morning so her father would not see. As she watched him round the hillside to go to town, she threw the net into the sky.

The fibers wrapped around a passing gull. She reeled it in with all her strength. However, as it touched the floor of her room, it transformed. Before her stood a handsome young man with golden eyes.

He turned to leave through the window. “Wait!” she called.

“I am a vassal of Akos the Hunter. A human cannot see me in this form. I must leave.”

As she tugged his arm, her hair caught the sunlight. He recognized the work of Tarsa and took pity on her.

“All right,” he laughed. “I see you are familiar with gods' magic. I will stay for you, but no other human may lay eyes on me. This the law of the birds.”

The girl readily agreed. “What is it like to fly?”

He smiled and told her tales from his journeys across the ocean, about the beauty of the open sky and the follies of sailors. As the sun set, she heard her father coming back up the hilly road. The bird-man left, promising to return the next morning.

The girl turned to the cat, “I feel good. This cannot be the ‘lonely’ you spoke of.”

“No,” purred the cat. “This is ‘joy.’”

And so, this exchange happened every day for a fortnight, and the girl grew happier and happier. More and more she wanted to see the ships her lover spoke of. At dinner, she asked, “Father, if I am very careful, will you take me to town with you next week?”

“What has gotten into you?”

“I want to see what a real sailor looks like.”

“You fool,” he yelled. “The outside world - especially men - are nothing but trouble!” He took her plate and sent her directly to bed.

Suspicious of his daughter's behavior, the tailor decided not to go to work the next day. Instead, he drove his cart and donkey down the hill, out of sight, and waited. He then trekked back on foot, so she would not hear him. He heard voices laughing as he ascended the stairs and grimaced. The voice he heard was too deep to be his daughter's or his cat's.

He opened the door and saw the young man sitting in the window, midway through explaining what a passing robin had said about the king. Silently, as quickly as he had come, the young man vanished in a flurry of blood and feathers. Furious, the tailor struck his daughter, "You ungrateful girl, I have taken care of you all your life, and you chose to betray me. This is the last time you will see the birds. No, even the sun. Tomorrow, I will seal this window and lock this door forever."

She held her tears until the door slammed, and the lock clicked. Then, she collected the feathers around her room by the light of the dying sun.

“This,” said the cat. “Is what ‘lonely’ is.”

She finally understood, and the sobs welled in her throat. Consumed with grief, she leaped out the window. Tarsa the Weaver saw this and took pity on the girl. Before the girl's body hit the ground, her lover's feathers engulfed her, and she turned into the first dove.

When the tailor entered the girl's room the next morning, he could only find the cat. "Where is she?" he demanded.

"She is happier than she has ever been with you," the cat jeered. "You have taken your gift for granted, and, from now on, you will be alone." To the end of his life, the cat never said another word.

As for the girl, she had her own wings and could search the world for stories on her own.