Grilled Cheese

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Grilled Cheese is a product of Village Compute

Version devBuilt at: 2026-10-16 08:00:47 EDT

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A 6 panel comic of my Pathfinder party, featuring my PC Deirdre (female strix magus), Phoebe (female elf rogue/cleric), Ana (female catfolk oracle/inventor), Chonk (male awakened boar psychic/champion) and Rebecca (female human fighter/barbarian). Panel 1: The gang is exploring sea caves and comes across a magically locked door. Deirdre: this door is magically locked, but we can get it open! Panel 2: Ana: um how about we DONT do that??? Chonk & Rebecca are hiding in anticipation of this going wrong. Panel 3: Deirdre: oh don‘t worry, we‘ve got this! Right Phoebe? Phoebe: Ye Ana: don‘t drag her into this! Panel 4: The door opens. Panel 5: A trap is triggered. Deirdre & Phoebe: ah shit Panel 6: Deirdre and Phoebe are shot by multiple darts.
headshot of a tawny half orc with bleached blonde hair. he has a cocky grin and he is speaking to somebody just off screen
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I knew, if I would win, that I must break his will. When the marshals waved start, I looked into his mind and thrust his brow, straight on his helm’s brim. It struck true. Krastaes grinningly acknowledged the blow. Yet then shoved my spear aside, tangled it with axe and shield, and sent me spinning to regain freedom. Twelve times we came together, and four times each hit, and another four we double-hit. Then we stood gasping while the marshals yaysaid the blow-tally. I weighed my odds and reckoned I must beat him soon. So when start yelled, I showingly thrust low, knelt, and raised tip under his shield. Cunningly he sidled even while he hastened in ere I reset. Yet I bothered not to try and instead kicked his gut, which was no right hit. Yet it withstood him back, which gave a heartbeat to half-choke. I knocked his helm, right ere his shield knocked me off foot. The marshals yelled halt and swiftly read. Yet already the crowd buzzed. Then they lifted my hand, and the din greatened eightfold. I cannot well bewrite my unsoothness standing before Lady-Mother, who set the prize-crown on my brow, while nighmost the whole city yelled for me - oddly ~Shaemore~ - Warrior-Queen, the school nickname I had so hated. Yet now it is wolder’s token. Next I wared, Raeonyl and Shill shoutingly clutched me. Then Semuane flew into my arms. She joked it well I had won, for thus her own loss under my blade had lessened, whereat we all laughed.
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Russia, an anthropomorphic polar bear woman - really an animal based yaoguai - stands with her feet wide, one hand on her hip and the other raised as she summons a small black hole. Russia speaks with a Canadian accent and is saying, "I'm callin' it out, eh? Doom. Sucks off everythin' inna 60ft radius, dontchakno?"
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