Gooday everyone,
Welcome to the Deacon Corner. If you’re new here, this space dives into the inspirations behind the images you’ll find throughout the books on these pages. What began as a place to share commission breakdowns has grown into something more. In addition to detailing how each piece came to life, you’ll now find expanded chapter notes, lore entries, and my own black-and-white concept illustrations which are raw glimpses into the ideas that shaped this world before they fully took form.
Before we begin, it’s important to say that none of the beautiful stylized images found in the hard and soft copies of these books would exist without the incredible talent of Sickjoe who is quite literally the heart and soul of this visual world. If you appreciate his work as much as I do, I highly encourage you to visit his gallery and explore more of his creations.
Now, without further ado, let’s take a look at the featured image and learn a bit more about the lore hidden in this chapter.
Continuing with the theme of Bastion’s manipulation, I’m going to need one between Morta and Gama in the cathedral:
Gama: Gama is much the same from the previous commissions. In this scene she has been cutting human fate and the tattered remains of broken and bloody tapestries lay at her feet. She is not the perfect vessel for Atropos, and her work isn’t nearly as clean as her mother’s. To put things into context, Morta has recently given up her mantle of death and tossed her knife into the depths of the Origin Well. In order to counteract this foolish decision, Bastion snatched Gama out of time from another peninsula to serve as her mother’s substitute until things are set right. In short, Gama has secretly restored death to the peninsula and Morta has just caught her with her hands in the cookie jar. Gama panics, jumping to her feet and drawing her blade. However, her sword shakes in her hand. Gama is the viscountess of familial love and raising a weapon against her mother runs so counter to her nature it makes her visibly sick. Just like with the previous commission, an image of Bastion hovers overhead plucking strings and forcing her to dance. Tears stream down her cheeks as Bastion draws her hand against her own mother.
Morta: She is an adult in this scene and is riding on Igor’s back. Morta has no idea who the hell Gama is other than the fact that she is a trespasser and has the tattered remains of bloodied human fate all around her. She is furious, her hands balled into fists, gripping Igor’s reigns and cracking them like a whip. Her dress is burnt and tattered as if she just escaped a burning building (The Hindenburg actually) which only agitates her further. She clearly believed that without the knife, disaster would be averted, and the passengers would live. Gama may have screwed that up and the hydrogen fueled airship went up in flames with Morta in it. Needless to say, she’s not happy.
Igor: Igor is ready to charge, his hooves kicking at the floor and his back legs spinning a webbing of steel wool, anticipating binding his prey and hanging her from the ceiling of the cathedral. An otherworldly horse arachnid hybrid, Morta’s pale horse, plumes of smoke exhaled from beneath his bleached skull. He is imposing, but something stays his hand, like a red carpet waved in front of a bull. There are obvious similarities between his mistress and the girl who stands before them blade at the ready. These commonalities confuse him, the first inkling that Gama may actually be related to his charge.
Background: We’re in the cathedral beneath the sprung fingers of the Isomerase. Pews, pipes, and steam, the tattered remains of bloodied human fate littering the floor, jagged cuts and crooked tares. Death has returned but in a rather clumsy fashion. Gama is actually a demigoddess of love after all, and the mantle of death fits poorly on her shoulders. An unwilling puppet forced to bend in ways she wasn’t designed too. Bastion’s true nature may not be as benevolent as initially thought…