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WETCRAFT ISSUE 07
PANEL ONE: Synchalla looks over his shoulder at the tiny Tarren Mill in the distance as he escapes over a hill in the moonlight. He’s still a mess, filthy and disheveled with his “DOG” collar.
NARR: Eventually, Lydon stopped watching me, and I made my escape.
NARR: It was too late by then. His potions had robbed me of everything. My dignity, my confidence, my very SELF.
PANEL TWO: Synchalla is pleading his case to a trio of haughty, superior looking mage elves who look down at him judgingly as if considering his evidence.
NARR: I returned to Silvermoon City, to the Mage’s Collegium, to tell of my plight.
PANEL THREE:Two of the three have turned away, laughing their asses off as they walk away. The third puts up The Hand, shunning Synchalla who looks shocked at this reaction, a “What’d *I* do?” look on his face. The Hand wielding mage looks annoyed, his “Go-Away” face apparent as he half-turns away to follow the laughing two.
NARR: They laughed at my plight. I was dismissed as “an embarrassment.” Ridiculed. Shunned.
PANEL FOUR: Zoom in, Synchalla is still standing where he was, but now his fists are clenched with magic fire glowing around them. His face is twisted with rage, grrrrr! He’s also peeing on the floor.
NARR: It was then that I burned for revenge. Not just against Lydon...but against EVERYONE.