Deep in the bowels of the world laid the decaying remnants of dwarven architecture. Two alcoves with strange statues line the sides of the room. White pillars made a path across the ebony floor that lead to two statues with lithe bodies made of black stone and ruby heads in the shape of flames. Each statue held a shield up with a spear pointed at the door in the end of chamber. The door towered out of sight of the light of flickering torches. On the bottom door were reliefs of strange symbols that barred a passing resemblance to the symbols of the most ancient temples to the four gods. Made neither from metal, stone, or wood the bark colored door stood unblemished by the passage of time. Soldiers garbed in gas masks, rifles, and aged faded uniforms slowly entered the dark chamber. Men and women in leather and linen clothes with torches and lanterns followed the soldiers in. Satisfied that the room was clear they placed their torches in sconces below the alcoves. From the
On the cold stone floor in a city inhabited by monsters laid the unconscious form of a woman in a small patient gown. She sat up happy that the nightmare with the doctor hadn't been real. Pale fingers flicked at her dark brown hair only to meet air. Her breath caught in her throat at the empty situation, she held her hands out in front of her. They were pale instead of deep tan she earned from all the work in the fields. She tore the gown open to reveal a long scar covered with thick black strings on her stomach.
Creator, it hadn't been a dream. Tina rose and glanced around at the intricate symbols on the golden walls that illuminated
The crows found themselves in a cobweb infested corridor. They took the shape of a dog with a long muzzle. Murder sniffed the air.
They smelled the competitors and the rot. A whistle summoned the local birds then the abomination of a dog set off with the knowledge of the girls it was to face. When they found the undead murder found its hide tore open by knives, pole arms and whips.
Murder ran towards the sisters in a zigzag pattern. Deadberry slashed the abomination's head open. A spike made from beaks shot from Murder's back into the psychopathic girl. Neural tissue slipped out of the makeshift pike, wrapped around her spine, and bo
Sand blew into the crows' eyes. They and the mage clad in emerald sat on a construct of light overlooking a whirlpool of sand. Judge unsure of how long it had been waiting glared up at the lava sky. It had been told to wait for a building to emerge from the sand, yet nothing had happened.
Judge turned towards another crow named Darren who took the skies for any signs of the building. The land sharks below swam lazily through the dessert; reminders of the ones who used this forsaken world. How any human on foot could traverse such conditions Judge could not fathom.
The sand twisted in the wind for a moment before the
Out of the shadows a letter fluttered through the darkness before a sword pinned it to the hotel's wall. Ketchup instead of blood dripped down the pictures of the male twins and the angel. Soon it would be blood instead of the condiment. Mister Cliche stepped out of the black box portal into the lit halls of the hotel. The familiar sensation of voices flooded his head and began to tell him what to do and tried to influence his personality, but he couldn't afford to let them, not yet. Fluorescent tubes flickered at his arrival. He knelt down and examined the letter. Cliche smeared the fake blood off the only words on the paper.
Cliche
Topside Cliché scuttled to the nearest wood burning stove. Red eyes glared at him as he approached. The agitated woman stood huddled next to a boiling pot of red bubbling concoction. Our wannabe hero smiled then began to pull out a silver pot. She is going to kill me.
“Why are you going after your creator?” Mr. Cliché asked.
“Are you kidding? Let me tell you...”
At this point the masked man ignored Caroline while she babbled on about her first death, the demon, and the black box. Cliché grabbed a cup of water then poured it into his pot. Flames leap up out of the pan and almost licked
Deep in the bowels of the world laid the decaying remnants of dwarven architecture. Two alcoves with strange statues line the sides of the room. White pillars made a path across the ebony floor that lead to two statues with lithe bodies made of black stone and ruby heads in the shape of flames. Each statue held a shield up with a spear pointed at the door in the end of chamber. The door towered out of sight of the light of flickering torches. On the bottom door were reliefs of strange symbols that barred a passing resemblance to the symbols of the most ancient temples to the four gods. Made neither from metal, stone, or wood the bark colored door stood unblemished by the passage of time. Soldiers garbed in gas masks, rifles, and aged faded uniforms slowly entered the dark chamber. Men and women in leather and linen clothes with torches and lanterns followed the soldiers in. Satisfied that the room was clear they placed their torches in sconces below the alcoves. From the
On the cold stone floor in a city inhabited by monsters laid the unconscious form of a woman in a small patient gown. She sat up happy that the nightmare with the doctor hadn't been real. Pale fingers flicked at her dark brown hair only to meet air. Her breath caught in her throat at the empty situation, she held her hands out in front of her. They were pale instead of deep tan she earned from all the work in the fields. She tore the gown open to reveal a long scar covered with thick black strings on her stomach.
Creator, it hadn't been a dream. Tina rose and glanced around at the intricate symbols on the golden walls that illuminated
The crows found themselves in a cobweb infested corridor. They took the shape of a dog with a long muzzle. Murder sniffed the air.
They smelled the competitors and the rot. A whistle summoned the local birds then the abomination of a dog set off with the knowledge of the girls it was to face. When they found the undead murder found its hide tore open by knives, pole arms and whips.
Murder ran towards the sisters in a zigzag pattern. Deadberry slashed the abomination's head open. A spike made from beaks shot from Murder's back into the psychopathic girl. Neural tissue slipped out of the makeshift pike, wrapped around her spine, and bo
Sand blew into the crows' eyes. They and the mage clad in emerald sat on a construct of light overlooking a whirlpool of sand. Judge unsure of how long it had been waiting glared up at the lava sky. It had been told to wait for a building to emerge from the sand, yet nothing had happened.
Judge turned towards another crow named Darren who took the skies for any signs of the building. The land sharks below swam lazily through the dessert; reminders of the ones who used this forsaken world. How any human on foot could traverse such conditions Judge could not fathom.
The sand twisted in the wind for a moment before the
Out of the shadows a letter fluttered through the darkness before a sword pinned it to the hotel's wall. Ketchup instead of blood dripped down the pictures of the male twins and the angel. Soon it would be blood instead of the condiment. Mister Cliche stepped out of the black box portal into the lit halls of the hotel. The familiar sensation of voices flooded his head and began to tell him what to do and tried to influence his personality, but he couldn't afford to let them, not yet. Fluorescent tubes flickered at his arrival. He knelt down and examined the letter. Cliche smeared the fake blood off the only words on the paper.
Cliche
Topside Cliché scuttled to the nearest wood burning stove. Red eyes glared at him as he approached. The agitated woman stood huddled next to a boiling pot of red bubbling concoction. Our wannabe hero smiled then began to pull out a silver pot. She is going to kill me.
“Why are you going after your creator?” Mr. Cliché asked.
“Are you kidding? Let me tell you...”
At this point the masked man ignored Caroline while she babbled on about her first death, the demon, and the black box. Cliché grabbed a cup of water then poured it into his pot. Flames leap up out of the pan and almost licked
I think I will be drawing the comic in pencil and not coloring it in. There doesn't seem to be anyone or if there is it is very few interested in it. I find it easier to draw with pencil and while some of the characters won't look as nice I will be able to update quicker and more frequent.