Hegemony Concept Alkemas Neshaa

Alkemas Neshaa; The Persian, The Zoroastrian, the Dracograth.

Neshaa joined Alexander’s campaign at Susan, during the Night of One Thousand Weddings. Neshaa himself remained unwed that night.
He was one of the first to become Dracograth, together with Kalliades, Korae, Lysander, and the acerbic Iapetus.


Neshaa is an odd choice for a soldier, he is a devoted Zoroastrian and, thus, a pacifist. He explains it;


“protecting one’s friends and the innocent from evil is the ultimate Good Work. To stay passive while ubiquitous men and their works flourish serve Ahiriham more than any act of justifiable violence…”


Neshaa is also the only man in History who has not only sermonised (cheeked, according to Kalliades) to a dragon and lived to tell the take upon he also won Her respect and love.


Though chalk and cheese to all appearances, he and Kalliades are the deepest of friends. They stand guard together, laugh together, play jokes on the other Dracograth together, and enjoy Lupernikes’ famous lamb stew together, usually in the company of their fellow ‘conspirators’ (though they only conspire to make sure first Alexander’s ‘malady’ then his disappearance are kept secret).


They have many adventures in Korae’s company before reuniting with first Lupernikes tgen Alexander and Sham on The Dragon’s Crown in a far-flung corner of the galaxy. Sham greeting him,as, always, as “that big ginger dreamer” and received a joyous hug in reply.


#Hegemony #Dracograth, #Persian; #Neshaa #Zoroastrian #alanjfisher #digitalart #bookseries #writingcommunity #bookart #booksecrets #Kalshodar #concept #conceptart #bookseries #characterart #characterconcept@LaurieGoulding

Hegemony – Marcos Lupernikes

Marcos Lupernikes; Spartan deserter, vagabond, general , Kalshodar, punisher of the guilty…


Once, he was known simply as Marcos the Spartan but dramatic events one day changed that. He picked up the name “Lupernikes” or “The Victory of Wolves” that day in what would be one day called Nepal.
The army had been camped on a frozen plain for months while Alexander did gods know what inside the mountain. Big armies get restless when they’re inactive; with no enemies to fight, they look for action closer to home.


By this time, Alexander’s army was made up of Macedonians, future Greeks, Persians, Sogdianians, Scythians, Indians, various Asians along with thousands of “camp followers” (suppliers, wives, children, artisans, entertainment)…division was already very much present. Some of the younger soldiers formed gangs of the kind often found in less salubrious neighbourhoods.
The “little wolves” ran various extortion schemes, petty theft, prostitution rings, protection rackets…the usual. They were tolerates until they crossed into murder and rape…


They raped young prostitutes and then viciously murdered them and Lupernikes got to hear about it.
Their leader was a cocksure little pup; full of vim, verve, and fancy Athenian ideas. He felt he was owed something. He felt his band were fighting oppression and his little pack would be instrumental in liberation Greece from the Macedonian Tyrant. He gave such a speech as Lupernikes sat in judgement.


Lupernikes, who was going to whip them all and them hang them had another idea…he told the assembled army thusly;


“You are big bad wolves chasing away the dogs, eh lads? Biting the hand that feeds and maintains you too? See, rape is rape and bullshit is bullshit, lads, no matter how you season the dish. You little dogs are no threat to Alexander or, by extension to me! Call yourselves wolves? Bollocks. Wolves don’t yap, wolves watch, wait, and when the time’s right, they do. Little dogs yap.
You say me letting you off, as you’re certain I will – in the spirit irresistible fellowship and all that – will be the victory of your wolves, right?
Right. Only, see, there is no victory of the wolves, there is only me.
Geld them. Chain them in the yard for the night and any little pup yaps, end the lot of them, clear?”


So he became the big bad wolf that are the balls of the guilty or The Victory of Wolves from then on because army humour is rarely sophisticated. As a loconic Spartan, we think Lupernikes liked the titles.


Lupernikes here, in his excellent 3D model, holds Wolf-breaker, his imfamous black sword that is longer than most men. Note how his armour varies little from that of his fellow Kalshodar. This probably shows his laconic spirit as well as his practicality. A soldier is a soldier no matter his titles. Achilles dressed like his men, so does Lupernikes.


#Hegemony #Kalshodar #Lupernikes #alanjfisher #conceptart #scifi #digitalart #concept #bookseries #bookart #characterart #bookseries #writingcommunity #writerscommunity

Hegemony – Enter the Dracograth

The Dracograth, the First Made, The Three-Hundred, The Fire-Born…
It does not matter what they are called, these golden armoured giants are rightly feared. They are Alexander’s Royal Guard and did not, to a man, give up hope in finding him again. Roaming bands if Dracograth searched the galaxy for 1500 years for any trace of their Lord…finally it was them that found him.


Standing 9 feet tall, the Dracograth are powerfully built, but do not let their size fool you; Neshaa was able to slaughter close to 30 professionals in under a minute using only his speed and the Dracograth’s signature “spear”. This massive bardiche-like weapon is longer than a man and weights about the same as one, an ordinary human could not lift it without help. Yet in a Dracograth’s hands, it appears as light as a fencing foil as it the fiery runes on its surface blaze trails through the air.
The instantly recognisable helmet can seal in a vacuum or hostile environment but, the rest of the time it is often joked that the Dracgrath recognise one another by the shape of their lips…


The model we created was, in part, inspired by a very famous classical fantasy painting. The idea was to bring over elements of my original Dracograth artwork and modernise it significantly while keeping clear baroque and fantasy elements. I also thought it important to give the Dracograth armour elements in common with their cousins, the Kalshodar. A consistency as it were.
The more observant among you will notice in this model, as much as my #Kalshodar and #Lupernikes models, I avoided the common sci-fi fantasy trope of overindividualising armour. Lupernikes’ armour is the same as that of a line Kalshodar with minor touches. The Dracograth can only be told apart “by the shape of their lips” when on duty. I feel this is more faithful to the idea of a functional army.


You tell me. 9 times out of 10, one spots a sergeant by their stripes of their demeanour, not a stark difference in their uniform. Individual soldiers carry a different loadout, their armour has different repairs visible and, in the case of Alexander’s army, the patterns of runes covering their armour are unique enough for the trained eye to notice.


#Hegemony #Dracograth #Kalshodar #3Dmodel #characterart #digitalart #bookseries #writingcommunity #bookart #booksecrets #scifi #scifiart #conceptart #writerscommunity #writingcommunity #writingtribe #bookart #characterart

Kalshodar 3D Models

Two 3D models of a Kalshodar Kasha or sergeant. He is armed with a “growler” (Manticora LAR) rifle and his original dwarf-made sword.
His armour and sword are aglow with powerful runes making up a large part of his defensive reflex field. Dragon designs are clearly endemic.
Also shown, of of the mysterious and tragic One Hundred, his armour whitened in mourning. The pure black and silver colour scheme of the ancient Kalshodar has developed into a more practical look for a Modern age; the main surfaces are darkened or bright silver with some golden or black details.


The stature and power of a Kalshodar warrior is well represented in this model which exudes menace and clearly demonstrates his superior size.

Deciding on the look of the modern Kalshodar after the fantasy-inspired ancient armours you have already seen was a challenge. As you can see, elements of the original suits remain but they’re sleeker with more of a future soldier aesthetic. Their heritage, however, remains present; the ancient flaming sword paired with an ultra-modem rifle is a very intentional design choice.


More is to come seeing as the first three Hegemony Collections were quietly re-released over last weekend.


#Hegemony #alanjfisher #bookseries #bookart #booksecrets #Kalshodar #digitalart

Hegemony Concept Art : “Manticora” LAR

Kalshodar compact rail-gun or LAR

The “Manticora” LAR (Linear Accelerator Rifle) is the favoured distance weapon of mainline Kalshodar in combat.


Using technology recovered from the cache on the Moon, the Manticora crystallises and accelerates projectiles of an exotic metallic allow at hypersonic speeds, similar to a compact rail-gun. The Manticora gets its name from the distinctive “growl-bark” sound it makes when operating and firing.


Its projectiles are both very dense and sharp, though they tend to fragment upon penetration, causing significant (usually dramatic) trauma to an unarmoured enemy.


One canister, as you see mounted in front of the trigger, is good for around 200 shots and can provide a good rate of fire at 45 shots per minute, one shot every 3-4 seconds. This slower rate of fire is best suited to squad based covering fire scenarios and accuracy is vital. The rifle’ s targeting systems are slaved directly to his armoured internal HUD.


#Hegemony #alanjfisher #writerscommunity #writingcommunity #bookseries #bookart #booksecrets #kalshodar #weaponry #weaponconcept #design #conceptart

Hegemony Concept Art

Ancient rebuilt and evolved

Concept artwork for the “modern” Kalshodar of the upcoming Hegemony Trilogy. More specifically, this helmet belongs to one of The Hundred, survivors of a horrible tragedy who painted their normally black and silver armour white as a sign of mourning.


This concept aims to capture both the ancient origins of the Kalshodar and their evolution into modern times. Dwarves are a practical race and, I think, the idea of improving the old when there’s no need to throw it out, would appeal to their nature.


The menacing air of the Kalshodar faceplate took work and I didn’t want to overdo it because these are, afterall, the good guys.


More to come soon, I promise, because The Hegemony series has been seriously ignored of late.
#alanjfisher #writerscommunity #writerscommunity #writingcommunity #bookseries #bookart #booksecrets #hegemony

Art of the Storyteller – Lockdown Day 15

 

In these trying times, a little doubt and anxiety of only natural, as is fear. Your greatest asset, though, is your passion and your belief in the fact that you are writing the greatest story ever told….You will get through this, you are enough, you are going to do this; I believe in you.

The Art of the Storyteller – Lockdown Day 8

Lockdown Diary Day Eight.

You might not have an audience of thousands, a million Followers, Dr. Evil levels of comments but you may well have that one person that sees everything you share, every word and to them, it means the world. When the going is hard and you feel like nobody is listening, keep going for that one person because an audience of one million is an audience of one million individuals that know nothing about the others.

 

We who Raced the Streetlights Home

I have been noticing, since the spread and fear over #Covid19 or #Coronavirus that there has been an interesting trend arising…
 
Now to put this into context, for quite some time now, there has been a somewhat artificially inflated conflict between the generations we know as the #Boomers and the #Millennials ; those born towards the end of the 21st century, and those born following World War II.
 
The now generic #OKBoomer memes seem to be the automatic response for many younger people when an older person says something they do not agree with, not always but, it seems, more often than it used to be.
 
How it All Began
 
In 2016, a divisive figure arose in the world of politics and he divided the two extremes on the generational scale. For those conisdred Boomers, he spoke sense and appealed to many of their values, he is of their generation after all. For Millennials, he was everything that was wrong with the world, embodying what they were sure was the cause for, at least, a great many of our world’s ills.
 
Millennials grew up a world where racism, bigotry, sexism, and any form of discrimination was simply unacceptable. Gender was a less simple concept and technology was an integral part of their lives.
 
For the Boomer generation, the world had changed spectaculary in their lifetime and they were, to put it simply, in unknown waters, adrift without points of reference. There was agreat deal of things they no longer understood. In typical human fashion, lashing out was much easier than communicating.
 
I can attest that, as one advances in years, that one is less inclined to change one’s ways of doing things, one has gotten used to doing them one way and is somewhat less flexible when it comes to dynamicity.
 
For Millennials, their world has been in a state of constant change for most of their lives. They have lived through what the proverb calls ‘interesting times’. The energy of the youth combined with an irrespressible appetite to know, to experience, and to share.
 
Let’s see how the ‘other side’ views their ‘adversary’;
 
Boomers; are the old, or at least elderly. They tend to be conservative in their views, inflexible in their opinions and not shy about vocally sharing them. They think Millennials need to do something with their lives and have no tolerance for protests of a changed world and difficult economic times. They think they know best and everyone must conform to what their idea of best is. They are either intentionally or inadertantly racist and do not like those they consider different. As people referred to as Boomers are usually white, they tolerate no equality for people of other enthnicities, women being considered equal or anyone getting a ‘free ride’. They proscribe to what are commonly known as ‘traditional views’.
 
Millennials; they are the lazy generation, always complaining about how life is not fair, sharing their feelings on their phones, to which they are glued 24 hours a day. They wouldn’t know what a good day’s work was if it slapped them about their whining mouth and expect everything to handed to them on a plate. Most of them don’t even know how to cook or look after a house and seem in no rush to make anything of themselves besides a mess, so they can complain about and blame the older generation for it afterwards. They didn’t have it like we did; we had it rough but we came through!
 
The conflict which the media has fomented, though, represents things usimg the now common “Two Tribes Strategy”. Either you’re an old Boomer without a clue or a Millennial, also without a clue, only about different things.
 
I, at the age of almost 45, born in 1975, have been “OK Boomer”ed on social media often. My parents are Boomers and proud of it, and we did learn quite a few things from them. OK we rebelled against it in our youth as children will, but, as we got older, we learned that maybe they had a point about more than a few things….
 
Generation X
 
Born between the 60’s and the 80’s, they tend to forget all about us, the original rebels, misfits, and troublemakers.
 
I will refer to my experiences in England here, I don’t have first hand knowledge of what GenX lived in America, having arrived there much later in life.
 
I grew up in what was known as Thatcher’s Britain (for my American readers, she and Reagan shared a love of Keynsian Economics, accumulation of wealth in the right places – their places – and a rather xenophobic worldview), a time of significant change and strong conservatism, ushered in by the country’s first female Prime Minister. It was a time when Britain’s traditional industries were eviscerated, unemployment was rife, disaffectation common, hope for a decent future dim. Our music reflects that, our movies reflect it, the books we wrote and the constant flux of our culture. A clear class structure was being pushed upon us. Big hair for both sexes, good clothes, influence and wealth were good, not having the right labels or logos on your clothes was bad. Only, if you were what was considered ‘working class’ obtaining these things was beyond your poor, put upon parents. I am sure we made their lives Hell.
 
Sound familiar?
 
Due to this imbalance between the level of earnings and the cost of living, both parents had jobs. We went to school and came back home without adult supervision. We learned to feed ourselves until Mum, Dad, or both got home. We had this sense of responsibility inculcated into us from an early age (Mum and Dad are working all day so why must they come home to do everything?). Life was a struggle just to get by, even with both parents working. We never knew how hard, of course, because children are, by nature, selfish little bastards. I was cooking my Mum’s tea (British slang for the evening meal) at the age of 11 or twelve. Nothing fancy, usually freezer to oven confections, but they thought was there. I came home from school, let myself in, vacuumed the house, washed any leftover breakfast dishes, let the dog in, cleaned the bounteous gifts the dog had left in the garden during the day, walked said dog, did my homework, watched cartoons for half an hour, and then put mum’s dinner in the oven (Dad was working long hours at this point) or made spaghetti of something else if I was feeling fancy. I walked three miles from school with as couple of friends in all weathers and learned to be streetwise because, contrary to popular belief, paedophiles are not a new phenomenon, the internet and 24 hour news just makes sure we hear about them more often.
 
At the weekends, I was free, unless Dad needed his car cleaned (plus the dog always needed his walks) or there were errands to be run. I played in the street with my friends almost all day long and chased the streetlights home. For those of you who don’t know what that means, your mother would tell you to be home until the streetlights came on (what time that was depended on the season) and woe betide any child who ignored said parental commandment. The monsters who hid behind the streetlights would eat them, I hear.
 
Scarcity taught us to appreciate what we had (even if we didn’t when we got it, especially if we’d wanted as bike, not a scooter), necessity made us creative and unable to remain bored for long, we invented games and the kids kept themselves occupied while Mother and Father “rested”. There were no computers, no cell phones; a football of discovered on the street equivalent made our games. We would play hide and seek with teams of ten or more to side, games which could last hours and occassionally result in a child being so good, only a shouted warning from a parent could smoke them out.
 
We got rough and tumble with our friends but always made up, we got patched up my a Mum, there was always one nurse per neighbourhood that specialised in ‘split heads’, ‘bust lips’, general scrapes and misadventures. He learned to roll with it and also to be rather independant because the adults were working all hours just to keep a roof over our head and food in our always hungry bellies. It wasn’t abuse that we saw more of our Nans and Grannies than we did our Mums and Dads, it was necessity. I remember a time when my Mum and Dad worked split shifts at the same factory, him arriving from the nightshift as she left for the dayshift. With what they earned and seemingly inherant ability to ‘stretch a pound’, we got by. They even saved up for treats for Christmas and Birthdays and we went wild for those. I had a pair of Nike Moonboots that, by the end of their life, had to be surgically removed from my feet and a dayglow orange Adidas jacket the theft of which broke my heart. Not just because I missed it and the status I felt it gave me, but because I would be Told Off.
 
They wasn’t beat or excessively punished (though I got a ‘good belt’ when I deserved it) and, as it turned out, was not punished for having my jacket stolen at school but my parents’ disappointment was a thing I worried about. I knew it had cost them a lot of sacrifice to afford that gift and it meant more to me because of that.
 
There was no credit (unless with the milkman, the ‘tick man’, or the local shop for a few quid), they scrimped, they saved, they went without that I might have something nice. I got my first computer at the age of 13 and it is still in a box somewhere, it probably might even still work. See, you didn’t throw it away, you got pass ons and cast offs or did the same thing. If something was broken, you fixed it because it was often cheaper than new. My computer broke once and, though I did complain often, we waited both until we could afford it (note the group noun), when Dad had time to drive to the shop, and finally for them to do the job. It never broke again….
 
We who chased the streetlights home did well when we moved from home to go to University. I thought my parents were strict and unfair until it came the moment for me to stand on my own two feet and adult without assistance. I admit, in the first night at my student lodgings, all alone (my housemates came the day after, I got there early), when I could not light the unfamiliar gas oven, I cried a little but in frustration rather than sadness.
 
Looking back now, I see how that prepared me for my globetrotting in later life. Leaving behind the familiar, starting with nothing and building a life from nothing. I’ve done it what must be seven times now and this is to be my last. Because no-one could help me (much), I learned to help myself. Because these were the days before intenet and free global communication, I could only rely on myself in emergencies so I adapted, I improvised, I learned.
 
We are often overlooked, us of the Generation X, because we are the bridge between Millennial and Boomer; we learned skills and values from our parents (thought we tossed aside those which would no longer fit in our multicultural world) and became the parents of the Millennials while we built the world they now value, but it’s not all good.
 
The Crimes of X
 
We are not innocent. In our drive to ensure that our children suffered not the world we grew up in, we created a monster or two. Mass media saturation, consumer society, throwaway society, rampany want want want. We created that.
 
We built the surveillance society, the cult of celebrity, the worship of the rich and the famous. We demanded more now and guess what? We got it and look at where it has brought us. We coddled our children and made sure they never went without, we gave them things instead of our time and affection because, in order to sustain the new lifestyes, we had to work longer hours away from home and were too tired when we got there.
 
In order to create our Brave New World, with our limited resources, we decided to, metaphorically at least, ask Mum & Dad to help. We sold our dreams cheaply thinking our vision was universal and anyone that saw it would be changed, the old habits would die.
 
They did not, of course. We gleefully handed our dreams to them and what did we get? A new form of slavery that looked an awful lot like freedom.
 
A Word to the Wise
 
“There is no growth without change, no change without loss or fear, no loss without pain. If you do not change the roots, the fruits can still wither…”
 
First you try to beat the system, then you start to realise all the benefits that the system might provide, and they become part of the system. Like the Biblical Devil tempting Jesus in the desert (I had to swing this back to the realm of The Chronicles again), no offer of riches ands influence comes without attendant strings. To those who might truly beat the system, the system will bend efforts to seduce.
 
Look at where my generation’s rebels are now, those we looked up to as the misfits and the challenges to authority. Those who remained true rebels are few and far between.
 
See, they divided us too, set us against an enemy who then extended us a seemingly contrite olive branch. See, age might not guarantee wisdom but it surely does distill cunning rather well.
 
Our generation wanted a future and a better world and we thought we could change it from within like a certain young Senator from Chicago thought he could. Like the rest of us, he forgot one important thing; if you don’t first change the system, the system will change you
 
Conclusion
 
My Millennial friends, though I use indirectly the saying “I’ve been your age but you’ve yet to be mine” and that some of what I described sounds condescending perhaps, I am merely drawing parallels to give you an idea of how this fight between you and Boomers is being manipulated.
 
There are two truths in this existence of ours;
 
You cannot tell a young person that you know better than them and had to struggle too (so what are they whining about). Especially if you claim your struggle was greater and theirs of no true importance. It’s all a matter of perspective. I know that, as a parent, I cannot prevent my child from making at least some of the same mistakes I did.
 
You cannot force the old to change by dismissing them as idiots. There is a saying I like that applies here “The old lion will fight harder because he has more to prove and much more to lose”.
 
We have forgotten, in today’s world, of dialogue. I hope I have shown you that, despite massive differences (apparently), we have much in common. Every younger generation rebels against the older and complains of their wrongdoings until they, themselves, become an older generation. It is at this point that they complain about “the youth of today” doing everything they did when they were the youth.
 
This generational conflict and angst, which is fed by the media, will fix nothing. Instead of letting ourselves be divided, we need to do something that will really scare them and find common ground. Ultimately, we all want the same thing at the end of the day, we just learned different ways to go about it.
 
For example, I had that ‘tough as nails’ upbringing and had no tolerance for complaining about something without trying to find a way to fix it. If I’m sick, I go to work (not now though, this is different), I don’t back down and will find solutions even in seemingly impossible situations (I’ll tell you about some of those, including how I got my family here one day). People that complain and need affirmation for their hardships and difficulties (unless someone is dying, has died or is really sick or similar) have always tended to annoy me because I’m very much the ‘grin and bear it type’ but I’m learning.
 
We can all learn if we want to. If we want to learn, maybe we can learn to get on?
 
Let’s not be like those that descriminate and descriminate against others just because of the year they were born in.