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The collection of work below is broadly indicative of my inclinations and approaches to art and design. Some of the content has been drawn from other galleries on the site; I have retained captions as they may prove useful.

Visit THIS PAGE for information on my lifelong project Finding Calais!

You reach sometimes for lost worlds you know, but cannot find.

From my ‘verse Finding Calais.

'At a very proper 9:00 we set out on the collapsible, Emgi pulling hard on the oars against the swells. It seemed the closer we got to shore, the harder he fought; as we knew he had the strength of five Peas and four Fausts and a half, I set the oars aside and saw to the stores, that the violent lurching would not tip them overboard; it having been so calm moments before that neither Pea nor I had thought to apply the fine schooling we had received on the twenty types. We made landfall without incident, and the site had been as Paths described yester-day. Pea and I stared at the VAST dark trees, and the fog churning from behind them, and the organick light flashes, until Emgi got bored and sat down, and pulled a sprig of mint from a bulging pocket to chew. Pea had decided to forget his killing jar, and we spent the rest of the morning doing the ‘preliminary usual’, as he called it - walking up to the treeline, spreading canvas, then beating (gingerly) at the branches above it with a hiking stick. Some of our quarry dropped like stones and sat there as if sulking. Others leapt right off, crashing audibly back into the undergrowth. Most dispersed in an airborne cloud.. Pea got bolder quickly enough, and dove gamely after the sturdier, angrier ones. We detained them in a shallow cloth bin with a lid of fine mesh — we really, really tried to pick out the predatory ones as quickly as we could, but it warn’t always easy to tell, and we ended up losing a fair few of the smaller...'

(~ Material attributed to the natural history locus aboard the CR Hollander. The content is amateur but nonetheless earnest and reliable public education.~)

CALAIS: The ‘Woodland’ Oegel — L. Rowe Fleury’s last masterpiece (or abomination, critics howl). Never in Cayden memory has a single architect been the subject of so much divisive controversy. Himself Fleury would shrug and say, I like plants, and draw back into his sketchbook. At any rate the ‘Woodland’ oegel has preserved well. It has never gone silent. Four centuries later it continues to play softly through the night, stopping only when dawn mists begin to curl about the more ‘becoming’, symmetrical, pillared regularity of civic edifices across the river Eiste. It has limited defensive utility, possessing no stops mighty enough to deter the Morgaff on its more spirited nights. Those in the vicinity unable to sleep at night find it nevertheless a reassuring presence. The town that has spring up within, above, and around it is heartily involved in its upkeep and municipal musicmaking. There are generally recitals both lunch- and dinner-time, after which the scholars hook it to the automaton for ‘lullaby’ watch.

Middle Calais, eight stations from Rial. This close to the periphery the fissures trellising the land have broadened discernibly. It is dryer as well, the rock faces red and harsh, the green sparser. Even here the ranks of infrasound organ pipe continue their outward march. Over the centuries the taps beneath some of them have lapsed into dormancy; when this happens the city decommissions them in quiet ceremonies and (excepting the occasional survey) leaves them to wear gently and grandly into the dusts.

Middle Calais. If you’ve followed the beacons (and the waters) this far, you’ll mark that it gets rather lusher here.

Middle Calais. If you’ve followed the beacons (and the waters) this far, you’ll mark that it gets rather lusher here.

CALAIS: The waters that course around Os Tepin (Celin) are bound straight for the maw of one of the largest and steepest cave openings in the region. It is a dark pastime of the two hundred forty residents here to lounge and picnic on the Boardwalk while fine spray from that abyssal spectacle swirls past them. In dryer seasons the waters slow to a trickle, and the vicinity becomes deathly quiet.

The last beacon of Iara keeps staid vigil from its pedestal atop the husk of a Rothalgan air temple. Above it survey ships tarry, borne lofty by winds from Carentan. Where they go, few can follow.

Home for the Evening

The double ridge of the Crucian peaks look to Malendar from across some eighty leagues of shrouded wastes. These are the Guild havens, and for all of the next century their rigids will be the only conveyances permitted (de jure, at any rate) to leave Iaran longitudes for the far side of the world.

You crest the last rise, and bask in home's amber glow. Today's evening post has dropped in to cinch; it won't tarry long, and if you hurry you might make it in time to procure something interesting from its store. Gasjacks these days are an enterprising lot.

The roofs of Denquien (Cortin) are instantly recognisable for their blue slate. A peripheral scion of Calais, Denquien possesses the capacity for agrarian self-sufficiency at a pinch. It also taps its neighbourhood’s maze of rapids, rivulets, and falls for much of its power, rosters its own sentries, and runs two of its own oegels — thus needing very little from the Citadel. Accessing Denquien’s gondola station — its only link to the civic grid, save for some very taxing footpaths — does however mean a good half-hour of walking. Its ninety-six residents have not agitated for firmer connections to Calais proper, and seem content to light their own parallel but quaintly distinct path through the darkness of Carentan.

Arx Tallia - Tallia’s central promenade ends in a terrace with a view over the canton’s botanic gardens

Twilight at the edge of Tallia, Calais. Engineers have worked steadily over the generations to increase the flow of water to the falls.

Left. Calais: Renault's Lantern heralds the approach to middle Cayden - a reassuring sight for the harried sky captain. Some days the northerlies carry away the thunder of the falls; a hush descends upon the halls then, and reading and quiet conversation become possible.

Right. Croiden Falls, Calais (I think!) - 'water gate' to the southern periphery. The gazebo is a popular bandstand.

Clae Feldoune, ‘Dragon Chaser’, patrols the deepest, darkest parts of old Calais

Malendar - afternoon

Malendar's urban fissures can be a manifest impossibility for large airships to traverse. Capricious weather, however, often compromises more sensible routes to the city’s ports and terminals. The spectacle of the great envelope latched to puffing locomotive is therefore a staple of any blustery or inordinately cloudy day.

Bird's approach to Malendar

~ Malendar, capital of the Iaran Federation, is a deco-esque metropolis perched atop a cluster of mesas. This is a world of some very strange topography. The planetary surface puts one in mind of a cracked riverbed — such habitable ‘land’ as exists is rent by fissures, valleys, and sinkholes plunging into a slowly turning geological morass. Less than twenty percent of it has developed into exposed bodies of water, and rivers run as often as not straight over cliff faces or slip furtively below ground into vast, abyssal realms of squirming lightlessness.

Malendar: Twilight at the edge of pier country

Gas Station

Road Home

The florid ‘Crab’ Gate stands guard over the ancestral halls of Tilay.

TENNERIM: A suit reads before work. The storms are returning; for a good third of the year these canals will be submerged, and the population snug (for the most part) in their great winding halls.

TENNERIM: A suit reads before work. The storms are returning; for a good third of the year these canals will be submerged, and the population snug (for the most part) in their great winding halls.

TIEN WANDA: Moth Paikor (ex-Tienmi Gigant) sets off for Tomp City. Paikor has a hundred and sixty-three storm seasons under her crest - several thousand transits to and from the far side of the world. Her line of transports are built like forts against the tempests this world delights in casting, and cheaper to operate than their chain sub competitors. The stats dictate, however, that it is but a matter of time before one of their ilk fails to return.

Sihaca Plain (umbrella porter: 5cents)

~ Sihaca (EY-26 ‘Conservatory Station’) is one of the founding wards on the Trehting Teal Line, and straddles the Opion drainage ‘bucket’ on suitably sturdy pillars. More resort than residence, it features an indoor wildlife preserve, theme park, mall, and floor space for retail and exposition. Sihaca closes for parts of winter and summer — some two thirds of the resident population are staff, but all who live here chip in one way or another to tide the place over the worst that the seasons can throw. The ward is also partially self-sufficient, with its own hydroelectric plant and floors zoned for vegetable and poultry farming.

Like many of the more peripheral Trehting wards, though, Sihaca falls into periodic decline. It is shown here rather the worse for wear.

A view down the interior of one of Trehting’s fortified hill stations. It hasn’t seen action in three generations, and the courtyards where the howitzers used to thunder are now good for the likes of frisbee, kites, schoolyard games, and night markets.


The lights of this station are visible from Sihaca on a clear night. Its business is broadcast relay and hydroponics; it sees few visitors except during the summer, when its otherwise desolate squares and lower terraces host the canton's teeming vegetable market.



Tamora Station

I like stations :) This one started out as a scrapped concept from work.

RTS Asset Demo


Hill Station

Single Room - Set

Single Room - Shot

The Bassist

Carnival Pier - overview

Spotter Boys' Annual - Freight Dirigibles, Issue #14

The Thresher is an excursion support ship, usually present in a cluster at the centre of any shoaled venture beyond planar Iara. They have decent payload capacity, and a concourse well stretching a good third of the envelope's length. Sundry logistics like tents and rations thus fall often within their purview. They are by no means specialised freighters, though, for they lack dedicated, reinforced floor space for true heavy lifting.

West Torak, 17-2.T.E.

A drawing of the view from the T-line elevator concourse. The station is a quieter alternative to North and Lower Torak, both of which serve far beyond capacity during peak hours.



Rial Commune — site overview

Shamu V rolls into town at the Far Side of the World. She is tailed by larger yard cousin Epsilon IX.

Simulated blast damage for somewhat stylized IP — 'before'.

Simulated blast damage for somewhat stylized IP — 'after'. Looks like the tinkerer of this safe-house went a little too far with the day’s prize..

Katholl's Suriname family of aerospace gunships. This promotional shows the five hull types over a six metre grid.

Clockwise from left:

Model CVA-40 the Cruiser features speed and lethal precision. Its business is the hunting of opponent ships. To that end its Linebhek railgun hurls the fastest projectiles of any Katholl unit.

Model MK-V is the shock-trooping generalist of the array, and the most numerous in any engagement. It is hardy, amply protected, and stops at nothing.

Model LMR-2X is a swift, nimble reconnaissance platform packing a decent punch for its size. It operates alone or in pairs, frequently with a CVA-40 close behind.

Model BM-H4K is a short-range butcher fielding a massive demolition gun. When employed in conventional assaults it typically motors insidiously in just behind the vanguard.

Model MB-GH8 is aptly dubbed, and the heftiest of the array. It spearheads assaults with its battering ram of a prow, and more than trebles the armament of a MK-V. It is a target of high value, and rarely spotted alone.


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