Production sheet · internal · first pass
The art was settled long ago. The brand around it never was. This sheet carries the two things that block everything else — the mark and the colour system — with every claim about them measured rather than asserted.
01
The mark is pixel art, and that has to survive the trip. Its render was measured here at 24 800 distinct colours with soft edges everywhere — a picture of pixel art rather than pixel art. So it was put back on a lattice: the step between its cells measures 17.5 pixels, which makes the whole lockup a grid of a hundred and three by twenty-four. Every cell below is one flat colour on that grid.
Send the vector, not the render. Everything on this page was recovered from a picture, and recovering is guesswork wherever the edges were soft. A vector carries the grid exactly, and re-lighting it is then a swap of four values.
The small size is a different drawing. A browser tab gives sixteen CSS pixels — thirty-two real ones on most screens — and nothing at a hundred cells wide survives that. So the standard has a cut of its own at sixteen: the staff thins to a line, the tears close, and what is left is the flag.
02
A banner on a cross-staff, torn at the hem. It is the word drawn: a warband is what gathers under one. Drawn in the interface primary, so the brand colour and the colour that means interactive are the same teal and can never drift apart.
The round crop under each is a marketplace or social avatar.
03
The mark and the word are one drawing on one grid, which is the only way two pixel objects sit in the same image without looking like a mistake. Nothing here is scaled to balance anything else.
The W is in the primary and the rest of the letters in bone, so the word starts where the mark ends without a rule or a gap to separate them. Every letter carries a one-cell shadow in the folded teal, which is what gives the word weight beside a mark that is a solid shape.
A hundred and three cells by twenty-four: about four to one. That is a header ratio and a social-card ratio, and it is why no stacked arrangement is offered — this lockup does not want to be square.
03
The art's colours are fixed and are not up for discussion — they are baked into the renderer and measured against the chain. What did not exist is the interface palette: the grounds, the line, the text and the accents that everything outside a tile is drawn in.
The second one is the floor: below it a shape stops reading against the tile ground and loses its silhouette. It is the reason the Forge measures every creature against it.
The page sits at the tile's own colour (operator, 2026-08-25). The art has no edge: a tile dissolves into the page and the creature floats on it, and a grid of them reads as one surface rather than as a shelf of cards.
At the WCAG ratio. Body text wants 4.5; large text, lines and interface shapes want 3.
04
The house accent used on this page is #C94FFF — which is also the colour of an epic. Used as the interface accent it would sit on every button, every link and every selected row, and purple would stop meaning epic within a day. The interface cannot borrow a rarity colour.
The six rarities take grey, green, blue, purple, gold and red — most of the wheel. Three gaps are left, and the proposal uses all three. Settled 2026-08-25: the teal leads, the vermilion supports, and the pink is the tertiary — kept for the one thing on a screen that has to be noticed, and worth nothing the moment it is used for two.
Hue distance in degrees to the nearest rarity colour. Under 20° two colours start being mistaken for each other at small sizes, which is exactly where a badge lives.
The vermilion was measured into place, not chosen. Gold sits on one side of it and the mythic's red on the other, so the only orange this palette can hold is the one between them. It leans red because there is nowhere else for it to go.
Primary, secondary, tertiary — in the order they were settled. The switch above only changes what the marks are drawn in; this hierarchy does not move.
The first of them is the primary itself: the mark is drawn in the same teal that marks everything interactive, so the brand colour and the accent cannot drift apart. The other three belong to the drawing — the fold of the cloth, the bone of the letters, the wood of the staff.
The crests are tinctured at random, so the Order, the Pact and the Wilds have never had a colour of their own. These are a proposal, not an extraction — and they follow one rule that keeps the whole system straight: rarity is saturated, faction is muted. A faction colour never competes with a rarity because it is never as loud.
The Pact's red is squeezed from both sides, and the numbers say so. It has to stay forty degrees clear of the Order's gold, because the two sit side by side inside the mark and have to be told apart there. Every red that does lands within three degrees of the mythic's. So the Pact and the mythic share a hue and are separated by volume alone — the mythic at full chroma and twice the brightness, the Pact muted and dark. That is the same rule as everywhere else on this page, carrying more weight here than anywhere.
And a red darker than this one disappears. Against a page ground this dark, every deeper red measured under the three-to-one a shape needs. Infernal, then, rather than blood.
05
The wordmark. Its letterforms wait on the coin's name and ticker, which are still open. The mark above waits on nothing, which is why it is here first.
The type pairing. Three faces with one job each — a pixel display face, a plainly readable sans for anything written in sentences, and a monospace with tabular figures for amounts and addresses. None chosen.
The furniture. The panel, its header, the segmented bar, the badge, the bracketed button, the rail — the kit the site is composed from. It comes after the palette, because it is drawn in it.