Whispers Beyond The Veil.

issue 8 • July 29th 2025

“Before there were kings… there were monsters.”

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Welcome back, VeilWatcheers.

THE KICKSTARTER PRELAUNCH PAGE IS LIVE!

That is right, things are moving, wheels are turning. have you signed up to be notified on launch? https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/ashveilcomics/thelbe-jack-seeds-of-ruin​

Thank you for being apart of this Flame.

The myth grows stronger—even when I feel like I’m standing still.

Page 6 inks are in, and they look incredible. Page 7 is still incoming, but I trust the process. No major updates on the cover just yet. It’s been a week of building in the shadows. I was in L.A. over the weekend, juggling real-world chaos and creative pacing.

And now August is nearly here.

To be honest? I don’t feel like I’m where I want to be... but I’m still pushing. Still burning.

Lately I’ve been questioning whether I should reimburse myself for paying my artist out-of-pocket. The truth is: I’m between a rock and a hard place.

But maybe that’s where pressure forges new ideas.

So here’s what I’m thinking—if the Kickstarter hits its goal, I’ll keep things lean. But if we hit a stretch goal, I’ll hire a colorist to bring this world to full life.

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If you’re into that idea—let me know.

Featured Drop(s) of the week.

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This week, I’m sharing:

This week I’m sharing a new panel from Thelbe Jack

a side-by-side comparison: pencils vs. inks.

Whispers From the Veil

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The Horseman Arc Begins

Survivors of the Fire: A Oral History of the Prometheus Event

“The City of Metal was burning, not by flame, but by heat. We always enjoyed the cool, dry air beneath the Red Rocks. But something was rising from the Karrum’Zhal, The Hell’s Path. The deeper it came, the hotter the stone. We thought we were doomed."

— Lady Vindra Halebloom, Nurse

"The warriors weren’t chosen.they were conscripted.

Oskaba Stormriech and his sister Heinzel. pit-fighters of Mol-Gavarr, sentenced to rot. Their freedom was conditional: help us survive.

Eledrain Timberfoot, an elven hunter caught trading illegal pelts. Lady Brimma Thornveil, cleric of the Light-Well. And the last…

Halgrim Ironclad—our blacksmith. Sent to carry their gear. We never knew."

— Mayor Brokk Drelmorr, Mol-Gavarr

That son of a bitch pulled me off my brother’s body. Or what was left of it.

I still can’t believe Oskaba charged that thing, his sword went clean through and just… melted.

It screamed. Hands up. And I smelled my brother’s flesh cooking as he dropped.

It didn’t leave. It watched us.

Halgrim ordered the retreat. Lit the charges. Buried it. Stayed behind.

All alone…

Audio cuts as Heinzel breaks down.

— Heinzel Stormriech, 1 of 2 known survivors

Next week, we return with Halgrim’s personal journal.

Until then!

I am Olin the Storyteller. Thanks for tuning in.

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