DANYON STREET
What started as a passion for drawing when I was a child became the backbone of my career. Equipped with experience from working with two renowned film companies and collaborating with industry leaders, I was able to persevere with my career. A life-long learner myself, I applied and also got qualified in Professional Games Development - specializing in Art.
As an innovative, passionate and determined crafter, it allowed me to create the best arts. Turning creative concepts into visually captivating masterpiece is my specialty.
UPCOMING EVENTS
FEATURED ARTS
Chrome-Dome Bashers
Chrome-Dome Bashers, an aggressive sport that leaves many in the regions amazed and astounded in awe at the sheer power of these Pachycephalosaurs armed with chrome helmets that hit like cannons at anything it charges at.
Every hit comes with an impact only man would dare dream.
Copper Galleys
The old farmers of the Iron wealth still speak of the Copper Galleys. They say the creatures come in swift, too fast for warning bells and too light to be caught.
By dawn, fields lie flattened and granaries split, the work of unseen hands and iron-shod prints. Some swear the galleys know the land toos well, skimming rivers and marsh alike, always vanishing before blades can be raised.
To this day, when crops fail on the outer farms, the elders shake their heads and mutter that the Copper Galleys have passed through once more.
Whale of God
Worshipped as the gods of the sky the gargantuan creature, yet illusive are sought after for it's marvel of beauty and amazing size. They have been around since the evolution of the iron world but are seen as the environmental message for the people,rabbit and owl as a message of sustainability in the environment.
Once they leave they are seen as the warning of imminent downfall of their world, carrying the small cities that ride on their backs with the silent monks that live on the whale.
Rocket Slingers
Living bulwarks of empire: the Ankylosaurus, its armored hide riveted with iron plating and crowned with the steel-wrought cannons of His Majesty’s artillery corps. Once a beast of the primordial earth, it now marches beneath the banners of the redcoats, its tail club sheathed in bronze and its back bristling with black-powder firepower. The ground quakes with each deliberate step, a living fortress dragged from prehistory and pressed into the service of imperial conquest.
Upon its broad back, gunners stand resolute, red coats snapping in the acrid wind of smoke and shot. They load and fire with precision, their ordnance thundering across the battlefield from the most unassailable bastion that nature and industry could conceive. Where their armoured tanks advance, there is no retreat, for its armored bulk and roaring guns crush both stone and mortal foe alike.
Neither beast nor engine alone, it is the union of flesh and forge, the Crown’s own Leviathan of war, and in its shadow, empires tremble.
Cult of Sightless
They were first seen in the shadowed ruins of the old, barefoot silhouettes drifting through the industrial fog, veiled in ash-stained linen, their sockets empty, faces serene. No banners. No machines. Only silence… and the hiss of something ancient following close behind.
They call themselves "The Sightless" a cult that believes vision is the lie that binds mankind to greed, to war, to progress without purpose. To see the world, they say, is to be deceived by it. In a rite both brutal and beautiful, they surrender their eyes to venom delivered by beasts long thought extinct, whom they revere not as gods, but as wardens of something deeper.
For them, true vision begins in darkness. Some who survive the blinding are never seen again. Others return... changed. Whispering secrets in dead tongues, walking through walls, shattering circuitry with a glance that no longer exists. . “We blind ourselves so we could finally see.”
- Core mantra of the Sightless, repeated during rituals.
Rusty Loch
Dwellers of the deep, however they may be smaller than their bigger relatives they make up in fast precision being the only creatures besides mosasaurs to be providing a better outcome than most choices in the industrial revolution but that doesn't leave man to be vulnerable to the wolves of the deep.
Rabbits of Burrowton
Beneath the banner of their High King, the elusive Lord Furfoot, they dwell upon the outskirts of the realm ever pacing its borders, guardians both of their kin and of the cities they shadow.
These rabbits, long since abandoned by the simple silence of the warren, walk among men as neighbors and watchmen. The mystery of their ascension how instinct bent to reason and word, remains unsolved, though scholars press on with futile ink and theories.
Whatever their origin, the law now binds them as it does humanity, their martial code a shared yoke in the eyes of the crown.
Wise Owls of Barra'duum
Angelic in presence yet bound to shadow, are beings that once hunted beneath moonlit skies. From the raw marrow of their nocturnal instincts, sentience has unfurled, shaping them into silent intellects who walk beside mankind.
They remain creatures of the night, eyes gleaming with ancestral memory,yet their voices now mingle in the chambers of men, weaving counsel and mystery into the fabric of human society.