Codename: SupersPage OnePanel One: Nearly full page. XT-S36 takes up most of the shot. Coop, Emo, Siren and Mouse hover near its feet, looking like little children in comparison. They're fighting in the middle of a city and surrounded by skyscrapers. XT's various lazer weapons and mechanical arms (a la Dr. Octopus) have everyone off balance.Panel Two: Coop yells off-panel. He's obviously been fighting for some time. Sweat and dirt cover his face. Coop: Light him up, Emo!Panel Three: Emo is just as haggard. Four light daggers begin to form in her hand. Emo: Quit calling me that! Coop (off): Just do it!Page TwoPanel One: Emo throws the bits of light as she dodges one of XT's arms. It's a narrow miss and the arm is thicker than she is.Panel Two: The daggers hit XT, buring themselves in its hull. Sfx (small font: THK THK THK THKPanel Three: The shards explo
Tymaril Legend, Tehvi Villain This tale is older than anyone I know. My grandmother heard it from her grandmother, who heard it from hers. Long before the moon bled, the Three Regions were one, united under one royal family long since broken. All loved their king and the kingdom knew peace. An evil once brewed in the east. The ancestor of the royal family conquered this evil long before, but you can never completely rid the world of darkness. The armies of this fallen evil rose as one and brutally attacked the peaceful kingdom. Unprepared, the capital city was taken and all the family executed. Save one prince, the youngest of the brothers. He did not escape unseen. The dark armies immediately took chase, intent on taking complete revenge. With the aid of a few brave commoners, the prince vanished into the world beneath ours, known only as Under Dark. For years, the evil armies ruled their conquer
Rikanik 3 "Now the only sure way to get rid of that mouse," the first guard hadn't stopped talking, "is to squish it. Now, believe me, I wouldn't love nothin' more than squashin' that wan'ed man. But don't worry, that won't happen. You know why? Eh? 'Cause I like ya. Thas right! Yer that wan'ed guy! Don' worry though. Ya see, I think yer a great person even though yer wan'ed an' all. I mean the son of the king's murderer! You don' meet them every day. Do ya, Rikanik? It is Rikanik, right? You don' meet them every day, no, no. This is cause for celebration! Les' play a game, ta celebrate. It's called Beat Down, made the name up mesself. I think the name takes care o' the rules. Wanna play?" Rikanik rose from his creaky stool and faced the one talking to him, his back to the other, "We should go outside." The guard's eyes flicked over his shoulder, "Why?" The wanderer spun, listening to the sword whistl
Rikanik 2 "Yessir," the man behind the counter caught the mug his customer threw to him. He bent under the prickly wood and came back out with a new mug full of beer, "I ain' nevah seen a man tha' could 'old 'is drink like you, stranger. Got tah be somethin' big that needs drownin', eh? You wanna tell me 'bout it? Mos' like you do." The stranger's mouth tightened. He grabbed back the mug, "Your job is to pour. Not talk." "Sorry, mistah. Din mean tah pry. But if I know troubles, I know what can solve 'em." The tender caught the attention of a barely dressed woman by hitting her with an empty mug, "You! Git over here!" The waitress glared back, then noticed the stranger at the bar. She ruffled her greasy hair and pulled her breasts out of her rags a bit more before sliding over to her newest customer. She lightly rubbed against his back, "Hi there." "Not interested."
Rikanik 1 Trees and grass no longer existed within the village, nor in three hundred sixty-three paces from its edge. Flowers grew in pots filled with dirt in houses made of dirt. Dusty paths weaved through and around the dirt homes as if trying their best to avoid contact with the frail walls. During morning and midday the paths were full of people, each thinking their task was more important than the person's in front of them. Hardly anyone fought. If they did the men in shiny metal would take care of whatever problem started the fight. No one wanted that. To even get dirt on the polished silver would result in a beating. The last commoner to hit a man in metal still hung from a long rope dangling over a tree branch outside the village. Sometimes the wind would carry his stench through the dirt houses to remind the children. The paths always emptied just before sunset. Wives went home, finished with their daily shopping for the few fresh foods un