“Grandfather! Grandfather! You’ll never guess what just happened!”

The old man fixed his grandson with a world-weary gaze and cleared his throat once or twice. If he had had the strength to shift himself in his elaborate iron wheelchair, he would have.

“You were visited,” he said eventually, “by a spiritual being with a strong Scottish accent which took the form of a fairy-winged stoat. In exchange for a tribute of one hundred green copper pennies, it offered to grant you your heart’s keenest desire.”

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A few more miscellaneous practice pieces for Nera and Jonah.  First, we have a fragment of Nera’s Civil War steampunk fantasy novel (referenced last month) and then a bit of Nera and Jonah eating at their not-favorite restaurant.  None of this ever made it into the comic (I was too busy killing Jonah over and over again to dwell much on his eating habits and/or literary tastes) but I thought it was kind of amusing.

* * *

“We have to destroy it, Captain.”

“We don’t,” said Captain Wilderburn. “It makes my ship go.”

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When trying to get the hang of writing a character or characters, I will sometimes do word-sketches to try and feel out their patterns of interacting.  When Shaenon and I were hashing out the primary cast of the webcomic “Skin Horse” I did a series of short scenes involving the characters of Jonah Yu and Nera Vivaldi to practice with them.  In honor of their recent re-appearance in the strip, I thought it would be interesting to show you a couple of them:

* * *

“Specialization,” said Jonah.

Nera looked at him. “Your point being?”

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“Okay,” said Kelli Thunderhold, Paladin of Righteousness, clanking mightily from every last joint in her platemail as she was functionally towed into the Well Chamber by a small and furry kobold. It was not, in Kelli’s mind, particularly paladinesque behavior to be “towed” anywhere, but needs must as Hextor drove. “You keep on telling me that your friend Seamon is interested in ‘drowning’ me. I’ve kinda been, y’know, working on the assumption that you don’t actually mean he’s literally interested in drowning drowning me, because you’re being really perky and friendly and everything. But on the off chance that just maybe, all this is due to my kickbutt attempts at diplomacy earlier, p’raps you can, like, tell me what it is you’re actually—”

This was the last thing that Kelli Thunderhold said before she was seized about her vambraced leg by a tendril of animate water and hauled bodily toward the grotesquely-decorated well in the Well Chamber’s center.

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Time makes idiots of us all, he thought.

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The passageway leading to the Well Chamber went on and on and on.

And on, and on, and on.

Kelli Thunderhold, Paladin of Righteousness, was getting antsy.

“Uh, excuse me?” she said, after a while. “How long now?”

“Not far!” said the little kobold, encouragingly. “Not far at all! Just have to wander a little more!”

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When the time came to choose, Netty chose the forces of Evil.

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