Alternatively, imagine if every room was exactly the same as this, and it went on for miles. Eventually, the monotony would make people slip up, right?
In fairness, scrambling out of that hole could expose him to immediate danger. And the fight ended pretty quickly. If you aren’t going to be able to contribute to said fight, you might as well just stay in cover. The group will need you healthy and in good fighting condition later.
Every once in a while, one remembers why the Guild gives Incubus homage.
Look at that grin. That is Number Eight, the Rictus of the Incorrect Fountain, performed perfectly.
My father worked at the controls of an array of fabulous devices. Endless panels of switches, knobs and buttons. A wonderland of possibilities for a five year old to explore. They all set something awizz or awhir. And you couldn’t touch ANY of them.
Hmm… Yeah, that Incubus fellah is starting to seem a bit creepy, if ya ask me. Don’t think I care for him much anymore. But I do admire the graphic lesson in Mimic anatomy!
Fascinating. That green clad artisan has yet to even show the faintest sign of surprise. Almost as if he was expecting a trap. Paranoia setting in, unfortunately. Onward, valiant thieves.
Mayhaps he simply knows Yre better than most, and anticipates the worst form or trouble at all corners. After all, is that not why he is a member of our marry band of thieves?
Attempts to emulate profound meaning using single word sentences. Fails.
Blood. Groove. Red and forlorn. Far from home she stood, all wrong, with a mad dogs froth on her brow.
The Beasts died bad, a bad end to a bad life, forged by magic, cleaved by steel. It would rot, not even a tile left to make it meal.
Precept 10. A man who finds pleasure in the result of cutting is the most hateful, crawling creature there is. A man who finds pleasure in the act of cutting is an artisan.
Finally allice-un uses the art of cutting
Cio kept telling her to use that damn sword and be a “heroine”
One out of two is worse than she dared imagine.
Nay. The cutting was artless.
Artlessness is the signature of the Belligerent Knights, and all who threaten Heaven.
Practice makes perfect
But effective, which is what matters in the short term.
Absurd as a joke
The chairs must be smote.
Oscar’s like ‘nope.’
I like you.
Man can’t wait to see what other crazy stuff is in each room. This is going to be sick.
Alison looks like she’s going to be sick too.
Alternatively, imagine if every room was exactly the same as this, and it went on for miles. Eventually, the monotony would make people slip up, right?
Oscar is that member of the party that doesn’t waste his hit points but takes a cut of the loot and XP anyway.
In fairness, scrambling out of that hole could expose him to immediate danger. And the fight ended pretty quickly. If you aren’t going to be able to contribute to said fight, you might as well just stay in cover. The group will need you healthy and in good fighting condition later.
He’s been around long enough to know to NEVER take point.
Oscar is a cunning sod. Why jump into a murderfest when you can sit it out and watch?
He put the team together, he’s clearly The Heart. Oscar is there mostly for motivational speeches and perhaps a hug. And singing, apparently!
Holy /shit/, Allison.
it took me a moment to realize who that was and that’s what came out of my mouth when I did.
Every once in a while, one remembers why the Guild gives Incubus homage.
Look at that grin. That is Number Eight, the Rictus of the Incorrect Fountain, performed perfectly.
“Nice work you did.”
“You’re gonna go far, kid.”
With a thousand lies and a good disguise…
If I recall correctly the mentor is betrayed by his own pupil by the end of that song.
Two down, 5,999,998 to go?
5.999.999.992 to go.
Her name is not Kill Six Million Demons-
First off, I’m not sure Mimics count as any of the devils, per se, or any other form of demon.
Secondly, you’re off by a few orders of magnitude there.
They’re definitely demons, in that they are godawful and I hate them so much.
Except that would only be 6 Million Demons.
Two down, 5,999,999,998 to go.
Kill 6 MILLION demons? What is this, amateur hour?
That’s just a mimic. It doesn’t count.
That’s 6 Million, if we are going short scale there are 5.999.999.998 to go, and long scale then 5.999.999.999.998 to go.
You’re off by about a factor of a thousand.
How many are there in total, by the way?
What is the name of this comic?
6.000.000.002
My father worked at the controls of an array of fabulous devices. Endless panels of switches, knobs and buttons. A wonderland of possibilities for a five year old to explore. They all set something awizz or awhir. And you couldn’t touch ANY of them.
The princess, in the vault, with the pipe.
+1
The King in the Foyer with the Knife.
Hmm… Yeah, that Incubus fellah is starting to seem a bit creepy, if ya ask me. Don’t think I care for him much anymore. But I do admire the graphic lesson in Mimic anatomy!
“Starting?”
Well, anyone who cuts a mean Bowie should be given the benefit of the doubt 😉
He started off, creepy, dude. All the creep alarms went off the moment he first appeared on screen.
tfw you cut a bitch.
Incubus, stop getting ideas. No! I said stop! Seriously, cut it out. I promise you it will not end well for you.
Welp, can’t say I didn’t warn you…
So…
Is that mutant rapeface directed at Cio, or the mimic corpse?
Fascinating. That green clad artisan has yet to even show the faintest sign of surprise. Almost as if he was expecting a trap. Paranoia setting in, unfortunately. Onward, valiant thieves.
Mayhaps he simply knows Yre better than most, and anticipates the worst form or trouble at all corners. After all, is that not why he is a member of our marry band of thieves?
Crown.
You ok there Allison? Your expression is… worrying.
Allison’s kill count is, as of yet, still low. She’s kind of in shock. As she works closer to her 6 billion kill quota, this will pass.
Plus, she bisected that thing with one slash. The first time doing that is always…intense.
ABSOLUTELY METAL
I KNOW, RIGHT!?
DAMN STRAIGHT, SON. NOTHING LIKE CLEAVING THROUGH SENTIENT FURNITURE TO KICK UP A ROCKIN GOOD TIME.
(Die You Bastard by Motörhead starts blaring out of the ether)
HELL YES!
HELL FUCKING YES!
*Incinerates 440,000 planets in a fire tribute.*
Blood. Groove. Red and forlorn. Far from home she stood, all wrong, with a mad dogs froth on her brow.
The Beasts died bad, a bad end to a bad life, forged by magic, cleaved by steel. It would rot, not even a tile left to make it meal.
YIS-UN’s breath Allison, it’s the first room and you’re already covered in blood.
Don’t worry, it’s not her blood!
Our dear friend Oscar seems less than comfortable in his situation.
Like the Oscar’s face in second panel
That’s generally the face I make when seeing what my subordinates are doing as well. Though usually more things are on fire.
I never knew I needed brutal Allison in my life.
She looks good in red!
Floor demon is watching you cut.
Cheer up emo kid.
I have better reaping to do.
The first of many.
Oh my, it appears that things are about to get FABULOUS again.
Many would think a man of my position would not enjoy such a violent spectacle.
But I’m sure it will be quite some time before our heir enjoys it as much as I do.
Precept 10. A man who finds pleasure in the result of cutting is the most hateful, crawling creature there is. A man who finds pleasure in the act of cutting is an artisan.
I have just chosen you as one of my prophets.
Just keep doing what you’re doing.
That whole deal with a figurative devil is starting to pay off…
Never fear though, it’s all going straight to the tab…