gardengummyeel

[gardengummyeel]

Nemegtomaia barsboldi with some "whiskers" to help it navigate its surroundings and enormous (relatively speaking) wings to keep it cool. Incredibly happy with this one!

[gardengummyeel]

S&S: Planet Catalog II

Mar Sanu Population 500,000 The golden grasses and crystalline waters of this planet's surface compliment the innumerable cities and towns that serve as some of the most incredible tombstones in the galaxy. Its entire living population instead inhabits its rings, whose blue halo indicates an atmosphere produced by laiaether. Here they live as sailors, using starsails so small they could never hope to produce their own atmosphere. They trawl the blue skies of the rings for silvercrish, odd arthropod-like fish that come in a myriad of forms. When they die their bodies are taken to be buried in one of the many lifeless cities, a specific caste dedicating their lives to this task—and foregoing their afterlife, for only those that have never stepped foot on Mar Sanu's surface will reap the reward of paradise.

Omiokun Population 1,500,000–1,800,000 From orbit, Omiokun is a gorgeous, seamless gem, beautiful aquamarine unbroken by even the smallest of islands. Most of the planet is covered by knee-high water, but all of its cities, among the largest in the galaxy, are hidden under the waves of its deepest trenches, none of which surpass 300 meters in depth. Its inhabitants believe that the surface of the ocean is only to be breached by living beings when absolutely necessary, making trade hubs a delicate system of unmanned pulleys raising and lowering cargo crates up into awaiting, floating docks.

Maroke Population 500–800 Salt flats hundreds of kilometers deep encrust this planet's crust, all baked under the unrelenting heat of eight stars. This eternal daylight and endless mountains of salt desiccate anything unfortunate enough to find itself stranded on its surface, eventually buried by saltstorms. This makes it a treasure trove for archaeologists, who have several small operations, some permanent, across the planet.

Ukupeila Population 10,000,000–30,000,000 The only true, living ecumenopolis in the galaxy is often considered by most something different from a city, though it's more akin to an ant's nest. Here an eusocial species of alien makes its capital, toiling day and night for a singular queen, her empire spanning dozens of star systems. Though she is royalty, she's far from a tyrant, exemplified by her people's living conditions. Their home world, populated entirely by the queen's repertoire, workers, and soldiers, produce everything that the empire requires and desires. Its constituent systems are populated entirely by a unique, magically-produced caste known simply as citizens that enjoy the bounties of their queen. These citizens can readily become soldiers if the need arises, ensuring even the most far-flung regions of the empire are safe.

Eldloom 7,000–20,000 Tectonic activity broils the surface of this world, leaving it a dangerous patchwork of lava seas and blackened stone. It is far from barren. In spite of its constant cataclysms, it has managed to develop a breathable atmosphere thanks to a thriving ecosystem that forms jungles and grasslands unlike any in the galaxy. Its beauty draws in the elite of the galaxy, who see it as a most luxurious vacation destination. Its independent lord is a dragon named Gihardt, whose flame ensures any would-be desecrators of his home become food for its ecosystem instead.

Visna & Pyv Population 70,000 and 20,000 respectively Planet and moon respectively, one of the many worlds tasked with feeding the galaxy. Over millennia, the planet's surface has been turned into an endless sea of grain, harvested by golems and magic. The grain is then either put into ships to send across the galaxy or sent to its moon, where the grain is turned into things like flour by starsail mills. Visna is infamous for the Azure Wildfire a century ago, where the whole planet was engulfed in magical flame that took decades to bring under control.

Lyuwu Population 331 An eternal rainfall blankets this world's dense, cool forests. The only bodies of water visible on its surface are quite small, no more than lakes, and have a constant bubble from their boiling waters. They connect into deep reservoirs lying near the planet's mantle, which in turn feeds the atmosphere the necessary water for its kilometers-thick cloud cover. It is home to a single village that farms precious mushrooms, a rare and little-known magical ingredient that they trade for spellscrolls and metals.

[gardengummyeel]

S&S: Planet Catalog I

A short list with short descriptions of various planets across the galaxy.

Moteke Maan Population 80,000–110,000 This planet is the pearlescent crown jewel of the Aaroree Nebula, providing incredible advances in magical know-how through the intensive research of miles-high obelisks scattered across the planet's white spongegrass. What purpose they serve is unclear, and cataloging, much less deciphering, all the obelisks is an endeavor for many generations to come.

Siing Population 437 A large planet with a not-so-large population, a prime example of what the majority of colonized planets in the galaxy look like. Deep within uncharted territories, Siing serves as a place for sailors to replenish their water without needing to pay for the service. Its sole village is found deep inland to avoid run-ins with pirates, its primarily elven population taking a keen interest in glasswork. Overall, the planet is unremarkable beyond its relatively rare freshwater oceans, the green trees and grasses making it a mirage of Talamh.

Soorayla Alhatton Parobrahai Population 10,000–12,000 Red seas crash against white cliffs across the surface of the planet, a grisly reminder that a god does not die so easily. According to the Phantasmagoria, the foolhardy inhabitants of the planet sought to bring their god to heel, a fool's errand. He stepped down from the heavens and fought their armies to a stand-still until a soldier drew his blood, turning the oceans of the planet and the sun which it revolved around red. As punishment, he made the land barren chalk and forever abandoned his system's inhabitants.

Lophanmyu Population 2,339 Barren gray stone against bright blue skies, courtesy of the constant windstorms of the planet. Its population is split between a handful of villages, forming a petty kingdom ruled by an ancient lineage. The population refines laiaether into its ship-ready form with vast wind farms that are overseen by a single wizard. It is not the grandest of the laiaether planets, but trading the material for water has sustained this kingdom for millennia.

Tyttanlystvi Population 30,000-45,000 This planet's sole continent plays host to a desiccating desert on its northern half and a myriad of dense jungles on its southern half. The sole ocean is shallow, teeming with life, and here is where most of its population makes their home as fishermen, constructing floating cities in the calmest regions, braving terrifying storms when necessary. These fisherpeople make a living by trading fish and precious organic materials, sometimes striking metaphorical gold with an ancient relic that garners such a bounty that the entire planet shares in its wealth. Those living on the continent also fish if they reside on its coasts, a risky venture with tides so drastic due to the planet's four moons, or live in a simpler manner if they live deeper inland.

La Brinto Population 5,021 In spite of its comparatively small population, this planet is the center of governance for its system, ruling over a second planet and a small rovetown. The population of the system combined is somewhere around 500,000, making it among the most populated systems in the galaxy. The bureaucracy on display in La Brinto's castle halls is a small glimpse into the complex efforts taken by the Talamh government to have a proper empire in space, a monumental task. La Brinto's diligent bureaucrats often sail to and from their neighboring settlements, its sole city constantly abuzz with either court drama or a festival to some legislative achievement.

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Star and Sword

A universe where magic reigns supreme, where technology is synonymous with the mystic arts, where the greatest advent of conventional and arcane technology is the starsail, a type of starship capable of traversing space.

A starsail was not the first starship ever invented, but rather a culmination of millennia worth of scientific and magical discoveries. Human's starsails are not even the first of its kind, for ancient races have existed for millions of years, their starsails made before humans had even evolved. In the context of humanity, however, ships that sailed the night were confined to small, dangerous craft before the starsail was discovered. A ship had to be pressurized and expensive heat sinks had to be installed, all the while being limited to movement provided by a wizard's spells. This amounted to little more than a novelty, ships that could just barely rise above the atmosphere of Talamh, humanity's home world, and were notorious for failing in a catastrophic manner.

All of this changed when a rich vein of laiaether was discovered on Talamh—it would later be discovered that the material is formed at the heart of stars, and only through immense luck was the vein located on the surface of the planet rather than near its mantle. The material was wondrous, magical even by the standards of a magical society. It held within it the power to shift the gwerwe, known instead as gravity by engineers and physicists. Though it was initially used in technology and magic on the planet, eyes soon turned upward. In the ensuing century the secrets of the material were slowly unraveled, and it was eventually refined to such a degree that the theoretical starsail could be constructed; a ship with the ability to produce its own gravity, its own atmosphere, and ride on the invisible waves of stars.

From there, the universe was suddenly and wildly expanded. Odd among star systems, Talamh's star played host to three habitable worlds, each with its own sapient species.

Rionairann was the first to be contacted, a small planet with iron staining its surface red, sparse, red grass filling in the regions between vast, ancient, worn-down mountains. Dwarves were discovered here, hiding deep in the mountains as they made their burrows of such size they had become cities. Short, powerful beings with a similar look to humans save for a couple of details, like a missing finger on their hands, broader brows, enormous beards present on both men and women, and a leathery skin on their arms and legs that turns into horns and plates as they age.

Speurinn was discovered second, and was an even bigger shock than Rionairann, for its inhabitants survived a planet choked by acidic clouds and boiling temperatures. In spite of this, it was eventually discovered that the planet was covered in dense foliage underneath the broiling acid clouds, and the people from this planet, known simply as goblins, lived in small towns built into the branches of the trees.

These three races, humanity, dwarves, and goblins, began to spread across the system, finding asteroids that could be reinforced with laiaether and turned into floating cities in the middle of space.

It was several centuries between first contact and the discovery of an even greater boon: the Archer's Way, a system of magical threads connecting every star in the universe. Though it took quite some time to decipher, unlocking its secrets gave way to the advent of interstellar travel. The laiaether used in starsails was used to traverse these strings, making journeys that would take centuries upon centuries upon centuries last only a handful of days. With this it was discovered that the dwarves had once been an interstellar race themselves, nearby planets and stars littered with mining equipment and ghost towns. When they had travelled far enough, it was discovered that there were even more sapient species in the universe, some older than the entirety of human civilization.

From then onward millennia worth of history ensued, and in the present day humanity is considered to be one of the elder races in the galaxy, spread across the stars and present in every major nation.

Even so, humans and dwarves and goblins and elves and even more exotic species continue to live in small, isolated towns on the surface of planets. Travel by starsail is common, but only in the sense of someone taking a train is common in our world. Technology has never advanced beyond rudimentary, toy-like steam engines, as most necessary components are instead magical in nature. Among the most advanced nations, soldiers may wield rifles, though it's more often the case that soldiers carry spears and shields and cover themselves in suits of armor, made cheaper by an interstellar supply chain. Travel over land is done by horses, travel over sea is done by boat, and travel by air is done by modified starsails. In essence, this is a galaxy in which travel between the stars is possible, but this has not accelerated technology beyond what one might expect out of a traditional “medieval” fantasy setting, at least on its surface where deeply complex magic performs similar tasks.

[gardengummyeel]

Frog Wizards

Frog wizards, three of them, and their human mercenary-turned retainer-turned adoptive father warrior that bring balance to the elemental forces through their self-sacrifice, each becoming a statue that guards a valley associated with whatever element they embodied.

One guards a valley high in the mountains, snow perpetually covering the steep, but safe, staircase that leads to the small grotto where their statue resides. The grotto plays host to a small temple and settlement, where devoted peoples tend to the statue of their patron and cultivate the population of ribbit-rimes. Small frogs covered in rime and cool to the touch—called ribbit-rimes—decorate both the staircase and the grotto, and in the deep, deep winter they glow ever so softly with cold, blue light. Though harmless on their own, combined they enforce a deep, magical connection to the tree of the world, a single, spiritual root tied directly to the statue of the wizard frog. This connection allows the spirit and will of the wizard, and thus, by extension, the spirit and will of ice itself, to protect the grotto and stabilizes its magic across the planet and planes. Pilgrims are more than welcome, and a village across the grotto's lake is the home of thousands who have decided to carve out a life high in the mountains, or those descended from such people. Though deep in the caves of the mountain, sunlight streams in through crystal clear ice that bathes the hollows in light, and brilliant moss illuminates the cavern ceilings at night with an exact replica of the stars outside; a gift from the spirit of frost. Those knowledgeable in magic that study ice here become as resilient and enduring as the stuff, with the ferocity of a snowstorm that leaves few willing to cross them. Despite this, they often also become kinder, more welcoming people willing to help others at any cost, a teaching from the villagers and monks of the caves.

Another guards the volcanic crevasses of a great desert, where stone, not sand, gives the desert its foundation and where the great heat drives most living things mad. Yet, all throughout the desert exist great towering pinnacles of green, spires growing around ancient cores of volcanoes where cities take root. See, the desert is a mild lie, for beneath the scorching stone lays deep, rich roil, fed by the minerals deep within the earth pushed up by the magma that also scars the land. Caverns here are filled with life, and where it manages to break through the stone above, it turns into these brilliant displays of endurance. It is in the greatest of these that the wizard resides, a massive, wide spire growing around a recently-extinct volcano. A city here celebrates their patron yearly, and worship fire as a force of destruction necessary for life; even the worship of death is welcome, as long as it is selfless and borne from the need to learn and grow. In the stony lands around it, a great labyrinth of homes and worship-palaces and markets trickles out following the gentle flow of the many rivers and creeks flowing from the spire, while the spire itself is a great farm, growing endless fruit and grain. Sky-docks adorn the very top of the spire, and at the center of these stands the proud visage of the wizard, guarding the city through the tiny flicker-frogs. Smaller than a thumb, these tiny creatures glow bright red through their obsidian-black skin, and form the anchor that allows the world tree to manifest a precious few branches in the physical world, blooming with pitaya and lychee and cherimoya and many more tropical fruits. Precious beyond compare, fruits from this tree are valued for their taste, magical properties, and cultural significance. Though they're worth more than their weight in gold, the city distributes the fruit to its citizens every ten-year, when the branches have given enough fruit to do such a thing. The fruit of these branches will never rot, and are in every instance delicious to any who taste their flesh. Foreigners may purchase the fruit for high prices, or they may arrive during the ten-year to receive them as gifts in exchange for other valuable goods. Every century the branches bloom with such vigor that the city sees it fit to share the fruits with the world at large, and send beautiful barges through the sky to distribute the fruit to those who want them. Through these voyages many make friends with those of far-off lands, and some even marry and sire children, settling in their new homes far from their homeland.

The third among them boasts a place in the sky islands floating across the planet's equator, visiting the skies of dozens of nations and peoples in their journey. Though not unified in government, the people of the islands take great care to pass along the wizard's island against the spin of their islands, and the globe. Thus, every person making a home on the floating continent is able to visit such a venerated site and pray or simply lay in its magical wonder. Along the island's journey, small tadpoles with feathery gills swim through the air, translucent and nearly untouchable, only pushing and pulling on physical substance when they deem fit. These develop into small frogs, though these live for many, many years. Most remain small, and are content with being guardian spirits in many homes on the islands. Some grow large indeed, and become venerated spirits in the settlements they call home. The largest among them live in the clouds themselves, swimming contently alongside a retinue of tadpoles and smaller frogs, likened to whales in the sky. These spirits form the anchor of the world tree across the whole world, and its roots are the currents of wind that dictate the weather and routes of sky ships.

All are guarded by a statue of a man, dressed in simple leather armor and with a distinct but not gorgeous face. A man one might come across at any point in their life, elevated to the guardian spirit of the tides of the wild themselves, and venerated just as much as the wizards. Myth speaks of times of crisis, where all seemed lost and the forces of darkness drew their swords to strike down the wizard frogs and break their hold on magic and seize it for themselves. In every attempt the statue is said to have produced a spirit made of flesh and bone in its likeness, drawn its blade (shining in the sun or starlight, depends on the story, with the unmistakable glint of common, cheap steel) and cut them down with as much ease as one might walk through a gentle breeze. The veracity of these claims is contested, but none can deny that the statue of the guardian hidden deep within the valley the wizards first met the man holds great magical power, the confluence of his sons' magic in tempest and tranquility. Rarely, if ever, does the spirit of the guardian grant its gift to a warrior, but when it does that warrior is endowed with a love for their purpose greater than any seen in mortals otherwise. These warriors, called paladins, can dedicate themselves to anything they deem worthy of their service, though the statue grants its gift only to those with love in their hearts. Even so, many paladins have become corrupted by this love, the ways too numerous to list. Around the statue is a small village, protected by the statue and small, mortal frogs that have no innate magical abilities. Despite this, they anchor the heartwood of the world tree to the world, and the force so many describe simply as love becomes a physical, manipulable force. It isn't any stronger than the elements the guardian's sons oversee, not is it weaker. It simply is, and the heart of that which calls upon it dictates its manifestation.

[gardengummyeel]

Panphagia protos is startled by a fat idiot frog (Pelorocephalus) which disturbs some beetles that were vibing on its back

Used Scott Hartman's skeletal to pose the Panphagia (and for scale references).

No specific music to assign to this one, I think I hopped around my playlist in between fits of madness over the posing of the frog

[gardengummyeel]

Buriolestes shultzi

Used Scott Hartman's skeletal to pose the animal, don't ask me what the bug is because my guess is as good as yours

Listened to Oh No :: He Said What? by Nothing but Thieves for hours while making this

[gardengummyeel]

what was supposed to be a quick sketch turned into something less sketchy, and now I have one of the art pieces I'm most proud of

Obviously listening to Polyphemus from the concept album by Jorge Rivera-Herrans while making this one

Also comes with a blurb! Because why not I make the rules

Polyphemus has found his favorite sheep dead, decapitated and partly butchered with the tiny blades of Man. Odysseus, in light of the hundreds of men he swore to protect, begs Polyphemus for mercy and offers payment. As the tiny warrior starts listing out the various treasures from their plundering, Polyphemus' friend's blood drips from his hand; he knows what his answer will be. So do Odysseus' men. Blades ring in the dark, Odysseus falls silent, his face inscrutable through his helm, and Polyphemus' hand grows numb on his shepherd's staff. Drinking the wine before the dawning chaos breaks its amphora does sound like a good idea, though...