Damian Franklin

There is nothing like practical experiments and applications to bring understanding to perplexing concepts, thought Damian. The obsidian acolyte thoroughly enjoyed this opportunity to investigate the parameters of his spells. Adjustments with both the words and intentions had resulted in thrilling results. The crowning gem of this outing for Damian was that he had turned a defensive spell into an offensive one. Better yet, that had led to the understanding of a new spell. There had been no need to seek the Heartsong for that one. The tune and words had just come to him.

He had learned from Anastasia that this wasn’t the only way new spells could come about. It was interesting that they could be reached for in times of need. The variety of methods to interact with Mana was astounding. It was intriguing enough that Damian almost wanted to put his own progress aside to study it. It was very tempting to explore all the different ways spells were expressing themselves. Infinitely so. But, he didn’t want to fall behind. The Sixty that came into the cavern were rising in power by leaps and bounds.

It is startling how quickly we have dived in and gotten results,” appraised Damian as he surveyed the area. Currently, his party was resting and primed to leap in when needed. This period gave the perfect time to observe the spell work the others presented him. Even the melee fighters were a joy to watch. Their interaction with Mana maybe didn’t seem as grand, but it was just as informative. How the Mana shifted across the body as Forms switched or reacted to intention. Julia was particularly fascinating to watch. The curly brunette manipulated the Mana in complete sync with her actions. Only Vincent came close. The swordsman’s skill kept him just ahead on the battlefield.

A shriek from the side alerted Damian that they had an incoming. One of the bulbous rat things had smelled the blood from a battle. Malachi shifted to engage, but Damian forestalled him. “Let me start,” informed the obsidian acolyte. There had only been one chance to use the new spell so far. It had been at the end of a tough battle and ended up finishing it. That could hardly be called a good test. As the sore-covered monster charged, Damian recited.

“O’ Star Burning Bright,

Please Shine Scorching.

Consume All In your Light,

Star Expanding!”

A ball of violet energy shot through the air at the Ratsin. Upon impact, it began to expand. The monster tried to flee, but the violet star was latched on. The smell of smoked flesh filled the air as the star grew over the monster. At the moment the rat thing was completely eclipsed, the violet ball exploded.

When the area cleared, the monster was alive, but toasty. It cried weakly as it stood back up. The rest of the party dove in to finish it before it could recover any more. Damian was lost in thought over his observations. That was the baseline spell, he noted. There’s a lot I can do with that.

Evelyn Merritt

Evelyn felt powerful. She still hated this place, but that didn’t stop her from feeling pretty damn amazing. The three of them roamed the edges of the cavern hunting the pony-sized Ratsins. Seeking out any that came up from the other descending tunnels. It was a slaughter. The wicked flames they summoned made it easy to cleanse the horrid beasts.

The dagger came down into the skull of Ratsin that tried to flank the trio. Blood boiled to reveal gray matter before the monster seized and slumped. She couldn’t help to grin as a sense of accomplishment flowed through her. Unfortunately, that caused the bloody flames to sputter as the bitterness that fueled them dimmed. Evelyn grimaced and forced herself to recall darker days.

Not like that’s hard to do, grumbled the dagger user. Even though her life had started to be decent before being kidnapped, there had been very few moments to be proud of. Those she had were mostly tarnished by the situations she grew up with. It was a bit embarrassing to be proud of saying no to heroin when your mother was the one to offer. Equally twisted was having to say no to her father’s gesture of sympathy meth. Neither had reacted well to the refusal. That had been the last time Evelyn had been kicked out of the house. There had been no reason to return. Clearly, it would just happen again.

She couldn’t remember any other attempts at kindness from them. Not a single one, she noted bitterly. The flames brightened. Feeding the bitterness to the flame couldn’t relieve the burden of the memories. In many ways, it just made her experience it again all the more intensely. Evelyn had concluded, If bitterness can become a source of power for me, then I have a whole lot to use. The thought tickled a dark laugh from her.

“Ameilia, Marceline, how are you two holding up?” asked Evelyn. Hunting the edges meant fewer active battles, but also less chances to pause for rest. No way am I gonna allow the others get messed up because we can’t keep up, she vowed sourly.

Wispily, Amelia answered, “I am fine.” The tall woman was lifting her spear free of a Ratsin paralyzed by the purple flames. The intense pain had apparently cut off the screams of the monster.

“Primed for patrol,” said Marceline with a ghostly grin. It was a little disturbing even for Evelyn to see the ease with which her friend used the long sword. The childish statue and features were the primary reason, but the half-withered corpses surrounding her definitely added layers to that creepiness.

Evelyn looked at the two of them with a soft smile that was reflected back to her. She wasn’t sure when the nickname the Sisters had started, but it was warmly received by the three of them. They understood why it had come about and were happy to exalt it with the name. A strong kinship had formed between them on that first day. It started with a foundation of mutual suspicion. Now the bond was much more. She had learned enough about her Sisters to understand that the kinship ran deeper. All three had lived terrible childhoods. Three different, awful flavors.

For Marceline, her torment had been frantic escapes from creepy uncles. Assurances that’s just how they were, but don’t be alone with them. Adulthood was a dreary blessing that allowed escape. For the little sword wielder, there were no happy reflections on the past. Only a blessing that she never needed to look behind her. It was always haunting her anyways.

A religious childhood had left deep scars on Amelia. The chains slipped, but the shadow of it hovered over every action. Pressure beyond expectation. That was the spear wielder’s childhood before memory began to record. A thousand and one tears were wastefully spent trying to live up to a deranged set of standards. The tall woman left that life, but there were always judgemental whispers burning her ears.

In Evelyn’s case, hers was just another archetype of a terrible childhood. Distant parents, interested more in drugs than an accidental child. It was a short childhood for the sake of survival. Almost becoming just another product of her environment. Stuck nowhere, in the middle of everywhere with nothing to do. Lost in a sea of chemical-induced emotions or seeking empty pleasures to pass the time. She had fled.

All three of them had made something of themselves despite toxic beginnings. A way of life that soared above all expectations of their tormented younger selves. Then they awoke in this place. Stolen away. Someone is going to pay, swore Evelyn.

“Alright, let's get moving then,” said Evelyn grinning at the thought of revenge. “Each one of these fuckers means an opportunity for practice. We’ll sharpen our blades to be prepared for whoever brought us here.”

“A pleasant encouragement,” smiled Amelia.

Peering eagerly into the dark, Marceline nodded.

Soren Hill

The gunman shoved his arm into the mouth of the young Ratsin, right into the hinges of the jaw. It gnawed uselessly with a popping jaw that couldn’t bring any strength to bear. Soren’s eye narrowed from the bruising pain of the tactic, but fangs were unable to pierce the leather of his coat. This monster had been giving him trouble. Dodging with unexpected swiftness. He allowed this moment of closeness to finish the nuisance off. Pulsing with a charge, Soren brought the crystal gun to the rat thing’s head. A flash of red ended it.

He tried to spit out the taste of the vile blood. There was a clean tunnel of charred flesh through the head of the Ratsin. There was surprisingly little mess from the close-range shot. The only splatter came from the hit as the wound was cauterized. The gunman thought it over, The bolts must hit with kinetic force on the initial impact before the scouring of the heat begins. Note to self: Next time keep your mouth closed. He spat again more at the thought than any lingering taste.

A sensation ran along his Form alerting Soren that something was hurling towards him. The impression of repositioning the gunman’s body appeared in his mind like the echo of a thought to come. He followed the suggestion without hesitation, just a continuous reaction. Feel the threat, position for it, prepare a counter. The defensive aspect of his Form was not a skin-tight armor like most. Instead, Soren’s Form employed the strategy of avoiding damage altogether. His new position allowed Mana to guide the attacking mass to slide past.

The acceleration of thought from his Form gave him the time to deploy the charged gun to the right position as the diving Ratsin missed him by a thread. A flash of red and the monster tumbled to the ground. It came up on its feet warily with a hiss. A charred crater marred the right shoulder of the forearms. He raised the crystal gun to finish it off when a green arrow passed silently through the rat thing’s head. A single spurt of blood and it collapsed.

Soren followed the trail of green light back to the grinning redhead. He frowned back at her, unsure what to make of the woman. I can’t rightly tell if that’s how she flirts, or just purely for the mischief of it, pondered the gunman with a shrug. He waved a sarcastic thanks, which brightened the archer’s grin, and shifted back to his patrol. More Ratsins would be coming soon. There was a never-ending flow of the vile things.

Most of the time it was only one or two that came up from the descending tunnel he guarded. Only on the occasions when the numbers were higher did the Ratsins have a chance to get close to Soren. The young Ratsins were by no measure subtle creatures. He was able to pick off their waddling forms even in the shadows. The Sisters guarded two of the entrances, but that didn’t lessen the sense of pride. It was refreshing that Malachi trusted him to hold alone, even with Clarissa keeping an eye on him. Better a kill stealing green arrow every now and then, than be overwhelmed alone.

A Ratsin appeared. The gunman raised the gun as the body followed the head into view. Before his finger could brush the trigger, a green arrow flew. It disappeared between the eyes. As it fell Soren cursed and muttered, “Cheeky wench.” Filling pumped up, he vowed to keep the rest of the kills for himself. A storm of red raged within the orb of the crystal gun.

Kai Cooper

Grinning ferociously, Kai looked victoriously upon the battlefield. His party had targeted another of the territorial Ratsins. It growled over the moist blue flora as they approached. He took a deep breath and let it out with relish. “Let me start this one,” said Kai, prowling forward. Phelain nodded. With a laugh hidden in his tone, he recited the opening attack.

“Brilliant Shine,

Burst of Might,

A Blessed Smite,

Prideful Impact!”

The world stuttered and became a blur of white light. His Mana rumbled around in an explosion at impact. Protected in a bubble of force, Kai was already flowing into the next move when the attack finished. The rat thing had been forced off its feet and skittered across the glowing foliage. He rushed forward to follow up before the monster finished the struggle up. White light collected at his fist as another spell haughtily passed through his lips.

“Glorious Force,

Overwhelming Might,

Unforgettable Awe,

Lasting Impression!”

The Ratsin hissed as it lashed out. Kai leaped over the swipe of claws before dipping and swaying around the snap of fangs. Standing parallel to the skull of the rat thing, he held a stare with the abomination. The tenacious eye narrowed, but the acolyte acted first. His fist was a streak of light. A flash boomed against the Ratsin’s head. The monster tumbled away from Kai from the force of the blow. White Mana reverberated across the body of the monster. As the effect passed through, lines of light like cracks of glass were left behind. The Ratsin now had a very brittle look to it. When the monster tried to move, the light constricted and slowed the movement.

The rest of the party caught up, ready to dive into the fight themselves. The crippled Ratsin screamed at them as charged to meet them. Kai stomped the ground and recited his last spell.

“Sharper,

Swifter,

Stronger,

Surge of the Hunt!”

A shock wave of white and green light began at Kai as he howled. When it touched another person, a stream of Mana lifted off the ground like ribbons. It swirled around the person and sank inside. Suddenly the party was moving faster. Kai grinned at the results of his work. “Damn it feels good to be alive,” announced the proud acolyte.

His smile softened when Vivian walked up to stand next to him. She had already sung her buffs and now waited until she was needed. Kai loved her hawk’s eyes that tracked everyone minutely. He adored what this new world offered him, but it was seeing her again; that was the greatest gift. It was a miracle. Too many years slipped past me since the last time I saw her, Kai thought. So much time was lost when we were forced half a world apart. Now, together on an entirely different one. Few would believe Kai could smile with such affection should they have seen it.

“Kai,” said Vivian lightly. She didn’t look towards him, but smiled secretly.

“I am here,” he assured her.

“That’s great, dearest,” said Vivian with the roll of her eyes. “But shouldn’t you be over there in the fight? Not staring at me, as flattering as that is. Please protect them.”

“As you wish,” grinned Kai. Laughter bubbling, he recited Prideful Impact and was gone with a blur.

John Harken

Harken watched his fellow members of the Sixty and felt fulfilled. A life of seeking purpose and meaning almost seemed misspent. His scholarly pursuits didn’t allow much time for social activities. His crusade for answers had been all-consuming. Coming to the Pit had shown that miracles were real. That seemed pale to his new friendships. A promise of Purpose was elating, but communing with others was something else. In discovering the worth of companions he had also revealed an unknown quantity of compassion in himself. The priestly man had been surprised to find how much he cared for their woes.

Without the distraction of my research, I have found a new aspect of myself, considered Harken. This revelation makes me wonder if I would have ever found a satisfying answer on Earth. A whole life spent missing a piece of the human experience. Missing entirely the worth of speaking to others. I had placed words written by the dead at greater heights than words spoken to me personally. Is it any wonder that I was lost? Never finding any meaning… any validity of truth... How could I understand the human experience if I couldn’t even value in my fellows?

He breathed in strongly as a froth of emotions stirred within him. It wasn’t something Harken was used to. A career as a researching scholar had been one of logic, more often cold than anything else. Excitement was a rare thing, a flare here and there. Mostly just dogged pursuit of on a line of thought or hunting for reference in a thousand seemingly unrelated writings. From day one in the Pit, Harken had been overwhelmed over and over by an emotional swell. He felt like a child before the experience.

Supercharged with these feelings, Harken tried his best to maintain his normal calm. Perhaps that’s why his words had such positive effects on the Sixty. The cryptic Roseline suggested that his words and presence were needed. He had given his best effort, but had been surprised how well it worked out. The priestly man didn’t always know what to say. To him, it almost seemed to be babble. Still, it did seem to help those that opened up to him. Harken hoped he could maintain the success.

Now that I reflect on my spells, began Harken to himself. I suppose it shouldn’t be a surprise that I have a depth of compassion. Each one is a reflection of my desire to see them doing well. Yes, they are my ticket to finding this Purpose set out for us… but it can’t be denied I want them taken care of. If my care of them was purely selfish, the spell would have to take a different form. I just wish I could use Foresight.

On several occasions, he had reached for words to cast Foresight, but halted each time. He felt that using the spell would deplete everything and see him pass out again. Even when his Mana seemed “full.” Putting aside the danger of losing consciousness out here, Harken very much wanted to avoid the experience. The last time had been horrifying. Like standing in an endless black void where even his body was numb. No sensation. Not even thought. Just existing. The spell was effectively useless if he couldn’t pass on what he learned.

Harken wondered if he had taken the spell too soon. It had been what he wanted, but it couldn’t be used. He wondered if there was a right time to use it. If perhaps, there were times it would cast for less. I may not even know the spell-like I thought I did, contemplated Harken. I will have to discuss it with Damian. His growing understanding of Mana is inspiring.

He tried his best to put the concerns aside. To just do the best he could. See that the Sixty would make it through this push. The climb upwards would be long, with many steps. Harken promised he would see that each step was as smooth as they could be. “This place is a miracle and we are all blessed,” prayed the priestly man. “May we all see the sky again.”