Art Steelmoor

Basic Information

Name: Art Steelmoor
Role: Referee
Nickname(s): The Silent Sentinel, Steel Mountain

Backstory

Art Steelmoor was a gargoyle out of place. The other gargoyles in the city were carved from solid stone, their cracked faces and crumbling forms testaments to centuries of watching the chaos below. But Art? Art was made of steel—strong, gleaming, and unyielding. Where the others saw their erosion as a badge of honor, Art had always felt oddly apart. He didn’t wear down, didn’t crack, didn’t crumble. He simply… was. His perch, high above the city, had been his solitary moor, a place where he could stand watch forever. But forever is a long time, even for a gargoyle, and when the Offbeat League’s madness caught his eye, Art decided that forever could wait.

On the field, Art Steelmoor was the unmovable force in a league built on chaos. His steel form, forged to withstand the elements, now had to endure something far more unpredictable: the Offbeat League’s rulebook, which seemed to change with every gust of wind. But Art never flinched. Players could argue, fly, or occasionally turn into something resembling a slinky, but Art’s quiet, immovable presence never faltered. With a single raised finger or a stern, unblinking stare, he brought order to the absurdity, even if just for a moment. He never spoke much—gargoyles weren’t known for small talk—but when he did, his words were measured, like drops of molten metal, heavy with the weight of someone who had spent decades in silence.

Still, there were moments when Art Steelmoor found himself looking up at the Chrysler Building, his old home, towering above the pandemonium. There had been peace there, in the solitude of the steel and stone. But down here, on the ground, he had found something he hadn’t expected—purpose. It wasn’t easy, refereeing a league where even the laws of gravity seemed up for debate, but Art Steelmoor wasn’t looking for easy. He was looking for a place to belong, he had found something down here that even steel could bend for: the strange satisfaction of keeping the chaos just barely under control.