Pizza Delivery: D&D Style

Pizza Delivery: D&D Style

I posted these once before but took them down because of formatting issues/I forgot the credit!

these are also on my store ♠️♥️♣️♦️

Widdershins update! About time.

I hope y'all had a fun time with this one, I sure did. Cool fact- this is just about the tenth anniversary of Widdershins! Ten years of free internet comic. Not bad!

If you did enjoy it, please consider backing the Kickstarter for print editions of Widdershins, or subscribing to the Widdershins Patreon that has managed to keep us going and updating regularly for literally ten years now, or if you’d like to throw a one-time cash donation in my direction that would be deeply appreciated too! If you’re low on cash but want to help anyway, it’d be super helpful if you’d link the comic to any friends you think might like it. Spreading the word is so valuable, and absolutely keeps comics like this one afloat. 

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New to Widdershins? Read from the start of the comic!

Catching up? Read from the start of this story!

Nocturne

Now let the day just slip away so the dark night may watch over you Like a child asleep, so warm and deep you will find me there, waiting for you

You don’t have to wonder why Just come and dream the night with me

She felt weightless and drowsy, despite having allowed herself to close her eyes only for a few seconds against a steel bird’s beam of light when it had come to survey the torn corpse of the giant apartment building. Ciri had stood on the elf’s feet and he had turned her away from the light, into the soft darkness that unfurled behind his tall form. Until the noise subsided, until prying eyes left them alone. White light had framed him, highlighting his contours and setting him between light and dark, where devils liked to play.

Where she had placed her feet on top of his boots, glistening red clung to earth. The Sage stood in it and held her above, away from the rivers of red.

Light and dark. Good and evil.

Ciri had closed her eyes and sunk into the night.

The music had stopped.

It was quiet, apart from the city’s ambiance and the rain. Fingertips roamed the seams on her back, moving faintly, from the tips of her hair come loose to where cotton left the skin undefended. Everything felt subdued like she was diving underwater, and with every breath she became increasingly familiar with the owner of the arms around her. Somewhere above the surface, in the back of her waking mind, she could still hear the trills of the flute playing its song of storms to the billowing green clouds that ate at the tallest of steel spires before drenching the concrete earth with dusted glass. No matter what the Knowing One played, Ciri couldn’t stop hearing the longing melody she had heard him perform once in a key-nosed boat on Easnadh; a long, long time ago, it now seemed, in the beautiful world of terrible elves.

The rain kept falling.

She felt herself losing sense of time.

Time does not matter.

Supple leather brushed against her jawline and she stirred against the momentary loss of warmth around her. Until a cool, inert wave spread across the base of her skull where long fingers had begun gently massaging, preparing her for magic that cocooned her mind in a feather blanket. It instilled calm and let the susurration of rain inside her, where always a fire or two raged. Aches and spasms too, which she hadn’t even been aware of, seemed to release their hold on her at the touch of knowing fingers. It felt incredibly soothing and unearned. At the thought of being given something for free another little fire kindled in her thoughts, but she was quickly persuaded to abandon the thought when another wave rolled across the taut muscles of her neck. A little rest, a little respite. It helped to remember that they were both drifters now; strangers at the end of the world.

In the warm, secure darkness of his shadow, Ciri barely registered when the thumbs of his hands began caressing her cheeks, pushing wisps of ashen hair out of her eyes. Carefully avoiding dipping against her scar, which often ached. Lately, he had begun suggesting he could heal it for her completely, though the woman was not sure if she should accept the offer. Looking at it reminded her of what was real.

Was it?

What was it that was more real about suffering than about happiness? Wouldn’t ridding herself of the harrowing reminder help her grow past it? Didn’t she want exactly that – to become someone else? She, who was singular and yet so often, in the abyss of space and time, no one. Ciri didn’t know; the spirit of truth often deceived her.

Whether due to the ministrations of magic or out of her own volition, or both, she felt her mind tarry at these thoughts, her muscles slackening further. It was difficult to resist the forgetfulness and dreams that tempted her when dark night could be this gentle.

Why focus on disturbing and unpleasant things now?

There was a tentative brush against her lips, a slow, circular, exploring motion. It quivered lightly, as if fearful of response. Ciri didn’t mind. Against the subdued tranquillity that had enveloped her, the touch felt distinct and singular, and she brushed her lips against its attentions. Lowering her lip, the tip of a thumb pushed forward against the wet inside, grazing her canine thoughtfully; and then made its way inside her mouth. An unexpected sweetness hit her tongue at the first slow stroke. Then again, but a little less; then less again, but it didn’t matter. If devils played here, then they were not the worst hosts.

A low sigh.

‘That’s good. That is very good, luned.’

Her eyes snapped open.

Why did she look so startled?

He had always secretly adored her like this – so candid and accepting, letting him take care of her every need. Trusting him to bear her burden with her. Who else, if not him?

But it had been so long. He didn’t know if he felt the same way anymore. Had she not abandoned him, had she not let herself be ensnared… Yet, here she was. Where had she been hiding all this time? Didn’t she know how terribly he had missed her? Last time they had seen each other, those eyes had pleaded with him, full of tears and remorse; how they had hurt each other on that day.

‘Avallac’h?’

Brilliant emeralds, blown wide in alarm and bewilderment.

You are mine. And I am yours.

He smiled bitterly.

‘What – what did you do?’

‘I gave you moon flower,’ he replied without hesitation. ‘It’s a mild anti-inflammatory and relaxant.’

Those accursed eyes widened inexorably. ‘No. No, no, this is not what I meant…’

You’re not a toad, my darling, he thought. You’re the hope of the worlds.

She had grown a lot in the time she had been on the run from them. Sadly, she still hadn’t learned how to phrase her requests so no one could take advantage of them. Oh, he couldn’t stay mad at her for his own outlandish expectations. Circumstance, both ill and fortunate, had nurtured this human girl so she had learned to focus all her efforts into her unfaltering will power and nothing else. Through that she had to carve out every new day better than the last. No matter who her sword happened to cut down, no matter the millions whose fate she irrevocably altered in the process. He was far beyond moralising. Like tonight, for example. His little, dancing Swallow.

‘Stop hiding behind your witchcraft.’

Hiding? Did she not realise –

She kissed him.

Weiterlesen

Ooo this is nice!