|The descent into sanity|
|Date Published||Thursday, March 3rd, 2005|
|Previous Comic||Episode 521: Use the targetting computer. That's what it's there for.|
|Next Comic||Episode 523: The Doom That Came to Ice Cave|
Black Mage believes that his teammates have gone insane...have they?
|Black Mage scribbles a journal on note paper|
The mysteriously slain yeti that has sustained us since waking up in this arctic prison has nearly been exhausted.
|Fighter||Aww, man. I was really starting to dig the gamey taste of yak meat.|
|Red Mage||It's not yak, it's yeti.|
If we're lucky that'll be close to human that one of us will turn into the Wendigo.
Then he'll punch a hole in the wall and the survivors, if any, can get out.
|If my comrades survive the night it will only be because I've passed out from exhaustion.|
Curse my well-rested state! These fools continue to live and they are clearly showing signs of cave madness.
|Fighter||Well, we did what we could.|
|Red Mage||Yup, no sense in flipping out at this point.|
|Thief||We had a good run.|
|In their fevered mania, they plot my demise. I am alone now for the first time, but not the last time. And definitely not the first time.|
They have found a pit into the earth. Knowing they yearn for nothing less than my death, I stayed behind to fortify my defenses.
It was a decision that would save my life.
|Nestled within my stoney womb, I could hear the wails of the damned echo from the cave's depths.|
|Cut to Black Mage standing on a snow fort, scribbling on his journal|
|Fighter||(offscreen) Hey, Black Mage, C'mere!|
|My "friends" were already lost to me. Their sanity had been eroded by time.|
But now their husks would be infested by horrors from beneath the earth and beyond the ages.
|Fighter||Hey, Black Mage. Didn't you hear us calling you?|
|Thief||There's a whole network of caves down there. Red Mage thinks we can find a way out.|
|Switch back to Black Mage sitting in a pile of ice, scribbling on his journal|
|Fighter||(offscreen) Why is he sitting in a pile of ice?|
|They spoke in a tongue of wet gurgles; the babble of a language without reason.|
If you are reading this, then it is too late for me. I beseech you, reader tell my story. Let not my death be in vain.