KSBD 4-59
Pree Aesma was YISUN’s thirty second student, after Hansa died. She was rather small, and unlike the burnished cynicism of Hansa harbored only a brutal ambition and a tendency to fly into rages which reddened and contorted her delicate face. Nevertheless, YISUN found her brash manner somewhat refreshing.
One day, as YISUN and Aesma were skipping stones, Aesma tore at her clothes and ran about quite wildly, then asked YISUN quite brazenly, ‘What is the principle exercise of life, oh father and mother?’
YISUN skipped a stone through fifteen quantum states. It became a small, bright bird, and then a flame. YISUN then said, quite plainly, ‘Violence. Your selfish ego proclaims sovereign and self-severs from the omnipotent umblical. Your homeostasis offends entropy.’
‘What does that mean, then?’ said Aesma, discontent, not understanding the least what YISUN was saying, stamping her feet.
“Plainly, the only true peace is in unbeing,” said YISUN.
“Well that’s pointless!” said Aesma, fuming.
“Yes,” said YISUN, “It is fantastically boring.”
What of the wizard?
Where is Eris-lo Kai? I can no longer see him from my safe little window to the carnage.
Yes indeed, what became of the Vatra who once delighted me with his Hansa-esque grumpiness?
Sometimes, violence-to-be is better than violence, but now my scrolls are soaked with blood. Hence, this is not such a time.
The girl. Someone must protect her. All of creation will come crashing down around her and she is all alone.
I will do this, if I can, though it cost me my life.
NO, KIERNSAVAL! NO! YOU RUSH TO YOUR DEATH! Do not stand against creation!
Hell’s above… he is already gone. Damn that brash fool!
UNGO, fetch me my quill!
Death comes for all men, Speaker; only the fortunate may choose the manner of its arrival.
Fare you well.
Wait you stubborn man! I will not let you go alone. I have my quill now, we may yet live to see tomorrow.
You are brave, Speaker, and my heart is lifted by your presence. Perhaps with your quill and my sword we may win through and save the girl from all that is about to descend upon her.
I am glad to have you with me.
Is it in combat that we all may find common ground. That said ground is slick with blood matters not.
In my journeys through the many netherworlds, I met a most delightful maniac. This portly little man, this smiling Major, recounted saying much the same thing near the end of his life:
“Countless little lives struggle and writhe together, like tiny little cells making up a great beast. Struggling towards its own illumination. Seeking blood whilst spilling blood. Continuously multiplying and receding, fighting against itself without end. Whether they seek that Enlightenment through faith in a god, or in the name of Nazism, or even in the creature called Alucard. We are all now united by the same thing. It’s a dream come true, isn’t it?”
The gun witch appears to be literally juggling her guns, which would be badass. Do not deprive me of this fantasy.
You are 100% correct.
Amazing! You’ve really delivered on the action.
Is Layla dead yet? I’ve gone over this twice and I’m not sure yet. I really hope she doesn’t get dead here and gets to keep gunwitching it up later.
“I enforce my will upon the quantum field that composes my being. I enforce my will upon the cycle of events that unfold as a result of my shifting of energy states through action. I enforce my will upon the perceived world by categorizing it in whatever manner I see fit and serving my purposes or wants.
I am a violent tyrant, and must be such so as to maintain the Cosmos (the Ordered Creation), as opposed to the non-differentiated Chaos (the Non-Ordered Uncreation).
Through my very being I am clenched of jaw and bloody-handed, for the act of existing, and to utter “I am” is the greatest act of rebellion of all.
Reach Heaven through Violence. Reach Heaven through Being. It is the same.”
— Karam Saal the Crazy-Wise, Avadhuta.
A true warrior’s death, and the chance to boldly face your accusors in the Court of Figments, when the last sound you hear is ‘spurt’.
Ah, carnage. Always ever the color of prospective kings.
A joy to witness god’s hue of hews.
My feelings are mixed, as the gun witch is now shown to have what are unambiguously flintlock pistols. Her powers would no doubt be more potent were she using, say, a collection of semi-automatic pistols with the same finesse. This implies that high technology is either of greatly limited availability, or its value is less than I assume it to be. Alison may, in fact, have the potent weapon of knowledge at her disposal, assuming she survives to make use of it.
She’s a Witch in a world of demons, I assume she has powder crafted with dark alchemy and ball inscribed with hex-runes in order to kill enemies that would laugh off our version of weapon-tech. There’s more to carve through than flesh and bone here.
Yet she has but one bullet per gun, and while it is likely that part of her power set is reloading quickly, it seems to me that such is energy unnecessarily spent. It would not be difficult to modify a more current weapon with the same measures.
As for the question of whether combatants here would indeed ‘laugh off our version of weapons tech’, I would only partially agree. In my experience, if you direct enough kinetic energy at something, it breaks, and relying on supernatural defences merely requires one use more of it. Or, to quote a great man, “If you’re leaving scorch marks, you need a bigger gun.”
I appreciate what you are saying, but surely we aren’t the highest non-magical technological world encountered. Why are they mostly using hand weapons or throwing knives, rather than maser pistols and boson field disruptors? Could be simply law and/or tradition though.
A question, perhaps, for the man behind the scenes of this world. Is this matter likely to be addressed at all?
I imagine that even harder to obtain than guns would be a reliable supply of properly manufactured bullets. Round balls and gunpowder seem simple enough that I expect a witch could produce them with minimal assistance, but they would require guns made to withstand such ammunition.
Higher technology, especially weapons, is tightly controlled by the demiurges and coveted by the guilds. It’s not easy to come by a modern-level gunsmith in the city, so you’d have to get it through the King’s Road, which is a risky business. You’ll see a LOT more guns when we meet Jagganoth, he’s the one hoarding all the military technology.
Blasted, blasted, blasted fool!
I thought myself safe as head speaker of the Daemon King Ku’Na’Drath’tu yet that ageless one has disappeared to parts unknown.
Dreaded are his goals.
I must away! If there is to be any hope of preservation, I must away. Yet… the knight. Damn him! But what else can I do? I am no warrior, nor fighter. My skills do not lie in violence as much as I would prefer to think.
However…. I do have the quill… made of the 4th feather of the hundred tale’d pheasant. Perhaps there is a way for legend speaks of the quills great powers of linguistic persuasion, and conversely its dreaded ability to give physical reality to many instruments and acts of violence.
We will see.
Moar bug-samurai and gun witch
I detect a strong anti-Brahmin bias in the distribution of casualties.
At least four of the first five panels show a Brahmin sould sundered from his flesh, and perhaps five of the first six.
At least Allison fleeth successfully.
It’s, it’s a ballroom blitz! WOOOOO~!!
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If the Only True Peace is in Unbeing, then I wish for no true peace.
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