Titres dans Humoristique

Being 16 is always difficult, even more so when there's a Death in the family. After all, it's hard to grow up normally when Grandfather rides a white horse and wields a scythe. Especially if he decides to take a well-earned moment to uncover the meaning of life and discover himself in the process, so that you have to take over the family business, and everyone mistakes you for the Tooth Fairy.

For Commander Vimes, Head of Ankh-Morpork City Watch, life consists of troubling times, linked together by...well, more troubling times. Right now, it's the latter. There's a werewolf with pre-lunar tension in the city and a dwarf with attitude and a golem who's begun to think for itself, but that's just ordinary trouble. The real problem is more puzzling - people are being murdered, but there's no trace of anything alive having been at the crime scene.

Victor Asteriscus is just like any other acolyte treading on the Magus Path until his comrades betray him for a broken artifact. In a moment of desperation, he accidentally stumbles upon an abandoned academy and receives a System that allows him to summon Players. Yep, that's right. These “Players” from his old world will help him embark on a quest to develop the academy, complete various missions, and harness the power of magic. Let them kill magical beasts so that he can be promoted further? That’s too simple!

The galaxy is doomed. Monkeys may be clever and too stubborn to give up, but Skippy The Idiot Who Got Played knows the harsh truth: this is a fight he can’t win. The odds are not only stacked against him, he was designed not to win this fight. Maybe he can salvage some faint memory of the civilizations that inhabit the galaxy, but those beings are doomed. Doomed. Including the Merry Band of Pirates.

All life on Earth has been stolen away by The System. It was transported to another world at the behest of a distant galactic empire that lives in terror of humanity's potential. Ben - just a normal, if not slightly above average guy - had been about to go on the first real vacation of his adult life. But plans changed. Now, he must contend with danger and mystery in a world full of monsters, magic, and treasure. Armed with nothing but his wits and a special item given to him by The System, he embarks on a damn good adventure.

When my sister thrifts an aged map with iridescent lettering leading to a town called Ever, I roll my eyes. According to a quick internet search, the town doesn't exist. We only manage to find it with the help of a sexy gas station owner who offers to come for me if I call him. Swoon. I quickly learn that Shepherd isn't actually human; nobody in town is. News flash—he's a gargoyle—a dominant, possessive, crème brûlée-loving monster. That should terrify me, but something about him keeps me coming back.

Thanks to overwhelming might, a cadre of violent animals, and a weaponized fish or two, Tropica has wiped Gormona's royal forces from the map. Now at the helm of his own Church, Fischer finally has some time to relax. But life in Tropica is much like fishing from a rocky shore: it's only a matter of time before you hook a snag.

It would appear that, after two years of relative slacking, the Hero of Chaos is once again facing an ever-growing workload. Boxxy had been quite fortunate to obtain an exceptionally potent pawn with very little effort, but that was still effort it did not intend to expend. Sensing it might get dragged into things it really doesn't want to bother with, the creature makes haste to depart Velos and its orcs so that it may continue its private preparations for the upcoming Dragon Festival.

This is the worst thing you can wish on a citizen of Discworld. Especially for the magically challenged Rincewind, who has already had far too much excitement in his life. Unfortunately, the unlucky wizard always seems to end up in the middle of, well, absolutely everything. So when a request for a 'Great Wizzard' arrives from the faraway Counterweight Continent, it's obviously Rincewind who's sent. For one thing, he's the only one who spells wizard that way.

E-rank hunter Jinwoo Sung has no money, no talent, and no prospects to speak of - and apparently, no luck, either! When he enters a hidden double dungeon one fateful day, he’s abandoned by his party and left to die at the hands of some of the most horrific monsters he’s ever encountered.

Rincewind, inept wizard and reluctant hero, has found himself magically stranded on the Discworld's last continent. It's hot. It's dry. There was this thing once called The Wet, which no one believes in any more. Practically everything that's not poisonous is venomous. But it's the best bloody place in the world, all right? And in a few days, it will die. The only thing standing between the last continent and wind-blown doom is Rincewind, and he can't even spell wizard. Still...no worries, eh?

Much to Cale's chagrin, Prince Albert has tasked him with traversing a treacherous desert in search of the dark elves. Yet what he discovers in the ill-rumored crimson wasteland is unlike anything he's ever imagined! Later, after a brief respite for a festival back home, he treks onward to the Ten Finger Mountains. Among the peaks, another band of elves is locked in a fierce battle against an all-too-familiar foe. With Ancient Powers, masterful allies, and a mighty dragon on his side, there's no harm in Cale joining the fray—or is there?

William de Worde is the accidental editor of the Discworld's first newspaper. Now he must cope with the traditional perils of a journalist's life - people who want him dead, a recovering vampire with a suicidal fascination for flash photography, some more people who want him dead in a different way and, worst of all, the man who keeps begging him to publish pictures of his humorously shaped potatoes.

Having established leverage over Mordred and influence in the Cardinian government, Tim is ready to move forward with the next phase of his plan. But Mordred has an ace up his sleeve that could shift the balance of power back in his favor. Cooper and Nabi attempt to reunite with the rest of the gang. Stacy and Dave are forced to put their differences aside and work together to avoid capture and execution. Julian tries to find something productive to do while Chaz goes a little too far with the rockstar lifestyle. Katherine is done taking shit from old foes.

The Baron Sherazad sent me as far away from Eslant as possible. Now, I’m stuck in the middle of nowhere, in a nest full of enemies, with only a demented mimic and a renegade elf to watch my back.

Time is a resource. Everyone knows it has to be managed. You mess with it at your peril. You can let it move fast or slowly, but what you mustn't do is allow it to stop. The Monks of History have the glamorous job of time management in the Discworld. They store it and pump it from the places where it's wasted (like underwater—how much time does a codfish need?) to places like cities, where there's never enough time. But the construction of the world's first truly accurate clock starts a race against, well, time for Lu Tze and his apprentice Lobsang Ludd.

Meet Laszlo, eight-hundred-year-old demon and Hell’s least productive Curse Keeper. From his office beneath Midtown, he oversees the Drakeford Curse, which involves a pathetic family upstate and a mysterious black monolith. It’s a sexy enough assignment—colonial origins, mutating victims, et cetera—but Laszlo has no interest in maximizing the curse’s potential; he’d rather sunbathe in Ibiza, quaff martinis, and hustle the hustlers on Manhattan’s subway.

According to The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch (the world's only completely accurate book of prophecies, written in 1655, before she exploded), the world will end on a Saturday. Next Saturday, in fact. Just before dinner. So the armies of Good and Evil are amassing, Atlantis is rising, frogs are falling, tempers are flaring. Everything appears to be going according to Divine Plan.

Join Garth McFarlane, the ex-therapist turned dungeon-crawling team captain, as he wrangles his mismatched squad of lethal, flirtatious, and utterly chaotic teammates. From Frost Troll battles to goblin claps echoing through the crypts, the Phoenixes must outwit their rivals in a league where victory isn't just about tactics—it's about surviving complicated relationship dynamics, snarky reporters, and the occasional embarrassingly timed skill activation.

I make a living out of screwing over the jerks who capture and torment supernatural beasties. But when I free a bunch of particularly powerful monsters from their cages, I'm not counting on them following me home like lost puppies. Stunningly hot lost puppies, but still. These manly monsters are determined to repay me for my help, and they won't get out of my apartment until they're satisfied we're even.