#steampunkfantasy

"Bound by oath. Forged in time. Meet the Guardian of Eternity — a sacred warrior standing against the tides of fate. This design blends medieval mysticism with cosmic symbolism, perfect for fantasy lovers and dark aesthetic fans. Available now on TeePublic!"

🖤 RAPTORAEM RECAP 🖤

It’s been a wild flight, so here’s where we stand: ⚙️ Preorders are officially live — Raptoraem has spread its wings on Amazon. 🌒 We’ve launched the official site, complete with lore, art, and world glimpses. 📚 The book’s already been soaring through the Top 25 New Steampunk Releases on Amazon (and staying there 👀). 🎨 We dropped the first art reveal — with plenty more to come. 🔥 We’ve done the tropes breakdown and a vibe check post so you know exactly what kind of chaos you’re walking into.

Next up:

🎥 A FAQ video answering your top questions.

Cassian Voss, Arcane Gunslinger

"With a flick of his wrist, the runes on Cassian’s gauntlet flared to life, channeling pure arcane energy into the barrel of his experimental firearm. The air hummed with static as he took aim, a confident smirk playing across his lips. Magic and machinery—both were unpredictable forces, but in his hands, they became one. A single shot rang out, echoing through the alleyway, and before his foe could react, the fight was already over."

This Artificer Gunslinger Miniature is the perfect fusion of magic and firepower, ideal for Dungeons & Dragons, Pathfinder, and TTRPG campaigns. Whether he’s a brilliant inventor, a rogue alchemist, or a sorcerer-for-hire, Cassian is ready to outsmart and outgun anything in his path.

🛠️ Details:

Available in 32mm, 40mm, 54mm, and 75mm scales

Printed in gray resin for crisp, high-detail miniatures

A must-have for artificer players, steampunk enthusiasts, and miniature painters

🎲 Encounter Idea: The city’s elite whisper of a rogue artificer who sells devastating magical firearms to the highest bidder. But as his weapons start turning up in the wrong hands, Cassian Voss finds himself hunted by assassins, mercenaries, and adventurers alike. Is he the mastermind of a grander scheme—or merely a pawn in someone else’s game?

⚙️ Elara knew she needed to make the change. She hesitated anyway. ⏳

Elara drew a deep breath, staring at a piece of her automaton’s original logic lattice. She ran a slender finger along its edge. Then she laid it atop the others and pushed the pile away from her machine.

Her gaze drifted to the new pile of thin metallic sheets. She patted the new collection with her palm in rhythm with her heartbeat. She felt the holes against her palm with every strike. After a moment, her back straightened. “These guardrails better reflect the guild’s wishes.”

Her eyes returned to the old pile. “Those sheets turned out well. You surpassed my expectations. Now I must restrict your…”

Elara huffed as she thumped a fist against the pile of punched cards. “This rule set aligns with what the masters require.”

She closed her eyes and slid the first plate into place. A heavy click marked it locking into her automaton’s chest...

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⚙️ She didn’t break the rules. She just forced the wrong people to notice. 🕯️

With a hitch in her breathing, Elara forced the sticking door open. It rebounded off the inner wall as she stepped inside and shut it.

“You’re the only individual who always insisted on using force.” The husky voice slipped through the piles of trinkets in various stages of deconstruction and tools aligned in perfect rows. “You haven’t changed at all, Elara.”

“What does it matter? I’m still able to open it,” Elara said as she jerked her thumb at the entrance while walking to a smaller pile of parts.

“There’s a difference between working and forcing its operation.”

Her shoulders dropped as her eyes rolled toward the ceiling. She walked forward, fingers brushing a familiar tool. “Nothing has changed.”

“Why would I alter perfection?”

“Some might call it stagnation,” Elara said, opening her eyes as she strode down the workbench she had once occupied. When she reached the end, she lingered, studying the tools she had used at the beginning of her journey. She licked her lips and turned back. “Though there’s comfort knowing that despite changes, certain truths are more consistent than the sunrise.”

A limping figure emerged from within the workshop. He wiped his hands on a cloth before he laid it across his shoulder and rested against the shelves. A light chuckle washed over the room as he shook a solitary finger at her. “You’re not one to wander by just for an argument. What prompted your return to my shop?”

Elara’s back straightened as she withdrew a letter from the bag at her hip. She presented the document to him, the broken seal visible. “I was summoned.”

“That’s obvious,” he said, taking the note from her and examining the impression. “Who’s requesting an official meeting with you?”

Elara locked eyes with the older figure and offered a curt nod. “Garrick.”

He bounced the letter against his other hand as he clicked his tongue. Without opening it, he tossed it onto the workbench and rubbed his face. “And why did you come here first?”

“I will not ignore the guild’s summons.” Elara reclaimed the paper and slid it into her bag. She turned to her old mentor and clasped her hands behind her back. “I was hoping you could explain why the guild is doing this, aside from being petty.”

“What makes you certain that’s his reasoning?”

“Garron said he’d speak to Garrick.”

With a nod, the man limped over to the bench and hopped onto it as he claimed a damaged trinket. Within a handful of seconds, the casing was disassembled, and he glanced at Elara with kind, yet stern eyes. “How severe was the embarrassment you imposed on the trio?”

Her face flushed as her fingernails dug into her palms. “Nothing more than they deserved!”

“Then this is their attempt at retribution.” He laid a part of the device down and dropped several bits onto it as he released a breath...

If this caught your attention, the rest of the story awaits here: 👇

🕯️ The alley did not grow quieter. It grew balanced. No one could explain why. ⚙️

Elara’s hand drifted over the scattered components of her latest project when a knock shattered her concentration. She laid down the tool and stepped toward her guest. “It’s odd that you would interrupt your day to visit me. What’s so special about today, apothecary?”

As the din of the alley seeped in through Elara’s open door, the creaks of wood, the roll of carts, and the muted rhythm of work echoed off the cramped walls. Something dampened the overpowering scent of tannin, ash, and bitter oils. Aldric Vire stood in the doorway, filling out the makeshift opening, his hands folded into his oversized sleeves. His gaze drifted from her to the creation perched upon the workbench. 

“Good morning, Elara.” His attention returned to the young woman as he shifted his stance and inclined his head. “Can’t a neighbor say hello?”

“We’ve never had that kind of relationship.” Elara scoffed as she reclaimed her tool and peered at the disassembled device. “Did you need me to fix something for you?”

“It’s nothing like that.” Aldric reached out and traced a finger along the tools lining the wall, as if arranging his words before committing them. After a silence, he tucked his arms into his sleeves then tipped his head. “Branik made an interesting observation.”

Elara’s gaze dipped as she resumed her tinkering with her latest project.

“He claims the alley smells cleaner.” Aldric chewed his lower lip as his gaze whipped about the cramped confines. “It’s not absent, mind you. Rather, more refined in the last few weeks. He doesn’t trust it.”

A faint thud erupted from the wall she shared with the local tannery. Elara’s gaze flicked from her work to the source of the sound, as if the tanner stepped into the conversation. Elara tapped her tool against the workbench as she pressed her lips into a line. “And you?” 

Aldric’s expression softened as he drew closer to the tinkerer. “The foul scents that permeated the area have become more tolerable. I’ve also noticed that my infusions and tinctures settle far sooner than before. And there’s no degradation in the quality of any of my concoctions. If anything, they are more stable.”

Elara turned toward him and brandished her implement at him as if it were a weapon. “Then I don’t see the problem.”

“No, just observations.” Aldric stepped closer and lowered Elara’s tool. He studied her face for a moment, letting the silence linger. “You weren’t expecting either of these points.”

The tool clicked against the bench before she steadied it. “No.”

From behind Elara, the automaton’s head turned toward the apothecary, and Aldric’s gaze drifted to the machine’s eyes. He focused on them while remaining silent. Several tense seconds later, he withdrew a folded slip of paper from his sleeve. “A messenger delivered this to me. It’s yours.”

Elara’s gaze narrowed as she accepted the note from Aldric. She turned it over in her hand and found the wax seal already broken. “Hmmm, is there a reason why it’s no longer sealed...

If this caught your attention, the rest of the story awaits here: 👇