Master & Apprentice Page 0059 - 18-03-2017
From this point on I will continue Master & Apprentice in written form. I am more confident this way. Until now the comic was practice for drawing and writing, but the story never really got around to a point I actually wanted to have reached now. I felt like I was moving through jelly or deep snow in a storm. Instead of reaching the peak of the mountain and rolling down the hill at full speed, I just skidded back down the side I started on. So now I decided to bring a rope with me, leaving all those panel coordinations, text bubble placements and background fillers behind. You'll have to read a bit from now on and I still need to find out the proper length of a page, but I hope I can make it worth your while! Wish me skill!
I promise there will be illustrations!
K.N.
P.S.: Mixi worked hard on this horizontal rule. It is wonderful, isn't it?
"No! I told you I don't want this!" I objected, my feet dangling in the air. "What do you think you are doing!?"
Delar mumbled something through my fingers, that were trying to shove him away from me. I cursed my size and that last cup of wine.
"What? What did you say?"
"I said 'A man can dream, can't he?'." He finally pronounced in an understandable way, concentrating enough on talking to make it easier for me to keep his face a save distance away from mine.
"Damn it!" In his defense: we were both very, very drunk. This week's get-together went a teensy bit over the top, when Delar's elf friend Nondrean - the one that doesn't like dark elves - called my Master en passant a 'Necro'. You know, a zombie summoner. Bastard! I don't know whether he had actual reason to believe that. Though, at that point it hardly mattered as we simply went over to drinking more and throwing names at each other that became less and less creative. It had turned into simple dumb fun.
"What about your girlfriend?" Oops. I think I shrieked this a bit. Ah, yes, the blacksmith in training did get himself a girlfriend. Pretty much since he had gotten that messy stab wound three months ago - May Lor strike those bandits in their sleep! - and had to be nursed back to full health. Maeve was her name and of course she had been his nurse. I've learned quite the deal about my friend from seeing him nearly die. Sometimes I do notice that I react very naive when someone is nice towards me. But mostly, if not all the time, it is already too late to fix my behaviour.
"But she ain't you, Kiri!" He pouted, as far as that was possible with the pressure of two small handy on his face. "Maeve is not an Angel!" And I thought we magically became friends over night for way too long. Well, we are friends now, but he's still just a silly man running after the 'unique' looking girl.
"Not an Angel! Just a Wind!" I corrected him for the quadrillianth time. "No flying with these ears. Now let go!"
"But it was you who wanted to go into this alleyway, so…"
"Not for THIS! It's –"
Suddenly Delars face turned into a wild mess of pain and regret as a heavy copper staff slammed down on his head.
"…midnight." I said, finishing my sentence, blood gushing to my head in excitement. His grip loosened and I could slip out of his arms to run to my saviour. As id oblivious to what had happened, Master Zargeth stood calmly in front of his swirling blue portal ready to take me savly back to the tower.
"I hope I didn't interrupt anything." He appologised, with a sly smile hidden beneath his long grey beard.
"Oh, no!" I assured him with the same feigned serious undertone, trying to suppress my drunken self's urge to break out in laughter. Then I turned to Delar once more, grinning in drunken amusement.
"I have to go home now. See you next week!" I said and stepped through the blue mist of swirling magic.
"Damn it!" He exclaimed, before the connection was broken. Not angrily, though! Unconciously we might have started a friendly game of cat and mouse.