Fan Comic General Discussion

[Asmodean_]

I'm thinking of starting one based on the D&D campaign I'm currently in (vis. Thirteen Blades of the Necromancer but there's only 2 sessions of gameplay so far so there's a high potential that either I'll run out of material for it or something before the tenth strip. It'll be in OOTS-style art (since I'm absolutely at drawing) and I should probably have the first couple strips done by next week.

Unless of course it grinds to a halt before it even begins (which it very well might, given my track record). We'll see.

(Yes my posting this here is to motivate me along the lines of "well I've posted about it now I have to go through with it")

1: Not a Morning Person:
Imgur: dboNPY8*

*I can't even post links yet. You'll have to just type it in.

As it turns out I can't draw to save my life.

I'll be working on words instead. Let's hope it works out better.

EDIT: Where would I put this? I've got the first bit as a taster:

Spoiler: Chapter 1: Dunkelheim

Show

Well of course the home of the drow (literally "dark") elves would have "dark" or some variation thereof in its name. Otherwise, how would anybody be supposed to know that we lived there? We couldn't have somebody just wandering around expecting some jolly (read: drunk as a badly-planned analogy) dwarves, sly but ultimately cute gnomes, or even, Lloth forbid, surface elves! Shocked gasp! Thems! Ohhh nooo!
Of course given that this is an at least slightly forward-thinking continent we happen to have the (mis?)fortune of living on, we wouldn't dream of being racist, oh no. No racism involved here, of course not.
It's just fact that the surface elves were scheming bastards who drove us out of our lands and into the caves that we live in for no particular reason other than expansionism, or maybe even just racism. Yeeaahh... that makes sense. It's just them what're being the racists!
It's 'cus they's surface elveses. That's why. Them surface elves is always racists. All of 'em...
say any acquainted with the history of the drow with no apparent irony.
As a cave, as a natural formation, it's nothing special. Just a large area where, for one reason or another, rock has rather noticeably failed to appear. As a city with things like architecture and windows, it's the same kind of story. Just a place that defies the outside by not having a severe lack of buildings. We're a functional race, for most intents and purposes. Those are our houses: a lack of nothing. You have to be functional, practical, when you've no contact with the outside world and the main gain in life is to personally gain the favour of Lloth. There are thousands of us; I hardly think she's going round with a clipboard going "ohh, Na'cine hasn't finished her history homework: minus three favour points." But that's religion, and for the time being, at least, we're stuck with it. It's not like atheism or anything else could ever gain a foothold in all the dogmatism going round. I mean, half our idioms mention her in one way or another.
Politics-wise, it's a complete web of lies and deceit that you could just unravel by thinking something along the lines of: "well, Ker'anson gave me his quote unquote guarantee that he'd have my back if we were ever up against Ci'vaula, so the one thing that *can* be guaranteed is he won't." It's astonishing that nobody's ever thought of actually telling (shock gasp horror) the truth for once, so people think the opposite.
There are a grand total of 64 ruling houses, although if you want to talk in terms of actually wielding any significant power, it caps out at about a dozen. The rest are either just fragments, remnants, descendants or the ghosts of previous houses, or a new upstart house planning to single-handedly revolutionise the system, or the gov-apostrophe-t, or the "freakin' universe, man". As the proud Secondborn Son of the Almighty 57th House (in, rather obviously, descending order) I can boast having exactly zero power. Hell, I doubt if anyone had ever even heard of the house, let alone a boy - and a second one at that!
We managed to gain this glamourous (read: W-list) lifestyle by eliminating threats not when they attacked, or when they were still dormant, but *before they had even thought of being a threat*. Somehow, it's worked and House Asmodean is amongst the greats, if only to nab all the cocktail shrimp backstage. We are probably known as the only house which, in a language seemingly centred around the apostrophe (or 'postrophe if you will - and they will) has a name which lacks one. The fact that we'd only have our house recognised from pub quizzes is not lost on us, and most of us spend our days jostling for whatever power percolates down from the top. I never really participated in this affair, if only because I really couldn't be bothered with it all, and had better things to be doing with my time - that is to say, anything else. But it really shouldn't have come as a surprise that despite wanting to get involved as little as possible in the matter, the matter was, slowly but surely, involving me.

In the way that most things that bring utter despair to those involved happen, it all began on a Monday. I could go on about how it brought my whole world crashing down upon me, but in reality my hold on drow politics was already tenuous at best. At the very least, I doubt Lloth would ever care what rank of son you were if, either way, you were part of one of the least powerful houses in existence. I'm a practical man, and I'd much rather be not dead than a soon-forgotten martyr to whatever cause I could be said to follow. So when my elderbrother turned up with a crossbow, there wasn't much point in staying. I would like to stress at this point that I was to be killed because *I might try and have him killed at some point in the future*
So I left.
Not a big thing, I mean, I had been contemplating just packing up and jumping ship for a while now and this was just the final push I needed. I made decent progress the first day, not really running to anything, since the geography we'd been taught could be summarised as "thems be evils above; don't go there", but running away from the place where I was wanted dead. I'd forego a master plan in favour of just not being killed.