Comic: Arawn Shoots the Moth
by archivist
The Scene
Session 14 — Clearing the Castle of Azir
Deep inside the Castle of Azir, Alora heard a muffled sneeze from the coat room. She glanced at Arawn. He drifted over. She opened the door and cast Thaumaturgy — firelight raced through the room, panicking the moths inside. They screamed “Fire! Fire!”
Arawn spoke to the moths. He calmed them. One landed in his hands, panting. He held it gently. It caught its breath. Then it started to flutter away.
Arawn decided to shoot it.
The moth disintegrated in a flash of light. A full-sized man in red robes crashed to the ground — a Red Wizard of Thay, hiding in moth form. 1 damage popped him out. 10 damage put him on the floor.
Guts leaned on his man-sized sword over the fallen wizard: “I think down there is good for you.” Reaghl grabbed him in a full Nelson. The other moths were still screaming “Fire!” — and when the Red Wizard appeared, they switched to “Imposter!”
Meanwhile, Kaial telepathically reached Arawn: “What the fuck. You shot a moth. What’s going on?”
Arawn: “You seem to have a handle on the situation.”
“There are a lot of moths.”
“They are freaking out.”
Image Prompt
Four-panel comic strip. Dark fantasy castle interior — cobwebbed coat room, flickering firelight, dusty shelves, moths everywhere.
PANEL 1: A dimly lit coat room inside a necromancer’s castle. Arawn — a sharp-featured ranger with arms made of swirling galaxy matter, stars and nebulae contained in the shape of limbs — stands calmly in the centre. A small moth sits in his cupped galaxy-hands, panting, exhausted. Arawn’s expression is gentle, patient. Around them, dozens of other moths flutter in panic. The scene is soft, tender. A man communing with nature. Firelight flickers from the doorway where Alora cast Thaumaturgy.
PANEL 2: The moth starts to flutter away from Arawn’s hands. It rises gently into the air. Arawn watches it go. His expression hasn’t changed — still calm, still quiet. But his other hand is already reaching for his bow. The motion is smooth, unhurried, inevitable. No hesitation. No internal debate. The moth doesn’t know what’s about to happen.
PANEL 3: ACTION SHOT. Arawn fires a glowing arrow point-blank at the moth. The moth explodes in a burst of light. Where a tiny insect was, a full-sized man in red robes materialises mid-air, crashing to the stone floor in a heap. Red Wizard of Thay — arcane markings on his skin, one white eye, completely blindsided. The other moths scatter in every direction. Tiny speech bubbles from the panicked moths: “IMPOSTER!”
PANEL 4: Split panel. LEFT SIDE: Guts leans casually on his greatsword over the fallen wizard, grinning: “I think down there is good for you.” Reaghl has the wizard in a full Nelson. The situation is fully under control. RIGHT SIDE: Close-up of Kaial somewhere else in the castle, fingers pressed to his temple in telepathic communication, face screwed up in total confusion. Telepathy bubble: “What the fuck. You shot a moth. What’s going on?” A small telepathy reply bubble from Arawn, perfectly calm: “They are freaking out.”