A man and his bunker - the first page of the self-insert framing story I drew for my next book (link to the pre-launch campaign below)
I spent an obscene amount of time researching late soviet armored vehicle turrets for that cutaway, hours i will never get back
The man you talk to when your uncle inconveniently dies before the big harvest: The village necromancer. Face always hidden, to protect him from wayward spirits; arms bound in protective amulets; skulls of the village’s previous necromancers, kept on hand for troubleshooting…