Nicole Jorgenson

She grinned back at Warner, feeling the excitement. Charged with that same thrill of the hunt. Just looking forward to having another chance to take a swing at one of the Goliath Ratsins. During the first, she had been tossed and tumbled. Completely unable to join the counterattack. This time nothing would stand in the way. Jorgenson brimming with the electricity of anticipation. Proud and eager for the fight.

The storm acolyte absolutely loved her new life. In the palm of her hand was the power of a storm. The Old Life, as she already thought of it, had had few delights that measured up to the experiences found in every day of The Pit. Battle was something Jorgenson knew she was born for. From a young age, warfare had been an obsession. Movies and books had been just the beginning. She devoured the history of conflict and as an adult joined the military to gain firsthand knowledge. The storm acolyte refused to be just an armchair historian.

Her time in the military had been typical. Frustrating at most times, but woven through with devout comradery. She loved and lost many friends. Some in battles that would turn out to be pointless while others were decisive. Neither outcome had affected what Jorgenson felt for her departed compatriots. A loss was a loss. The storm acolyte mourned, but never regretted joining. Never about choosing a path that led her into moments of hell.

Despite those horrors, Jorgenson’s childhood passion didn’t fade. If anything, it grew. Through it all, no matter the wounds to her psyche, the storm acolyte strode the battlefield with a grin. Warfare elevated her soul. It was just something that clicked with her. Everything made sense as the world narrowed. Guns barked and missiles screamed. In the middle of it all, she pushed. Grinning, but never laughing openly. Enjoying the thrill of risk.

In her heart, a child danced with lightning. Battle roared and inside the little girl screamed for more. Jorgenson’s earliest memory was of dancing on the hilltop in the middle of a storm. Electricity rippled across the sky. By that childish sight, it looked like a war between clouds. Rain poured, but she danced. The wind roared while everything crashed in a beautiful symphony. On the battlefield, that sensation rose to the surface again. In the face of something so chaotic and big, the storm acolyte wanted to laugh. Howl with strange humor at danger.

Retirement came. Her time was up and Jorgenson knew she had all the experience needed to write with authenticity. Gone was the edge of danger, the thrill of conflict. She put her thoughts down and cultivated commentaries. Reflected the past, both personal and the world’s. Time passed in the mirror. Wrinkles and graying ticking off like a clock that couldn’t be stopped. The storm acolyte rued. Wondering how, and wanting badly, to experience it all again. Then as if to fulfill a wish, she woke up to a whole new world.

In a matter of days, she was back on the edge of danger. This time though, the power came from within her. No need for weapons when everything came from hands and lips. Jorgenson became the storm. This new life was a delight to her. She wanted to keep moving forward, testing herself against even more threats. Push the envelope of death and dance by it.

Aligning with Warner had been more due to him being the first to ask than a decision made carefully. There was nothing to regret though, the brawler felt the same elation for conflict. Following him always led to exciting fights.

She was the first to follow after Warner. He wolfishly prowled into the Hall of Perdition. The party kept low and to the side. Making careful use of the shadows. Theirs was not a subtle party, but the plan was to maintain the element of surprise.

A giant rat thing shuffled awkwardly in the center of the chamber. It was a smaller specimen than a true goliath, though still intimidatingly large. Muscles roiled as it paced back and forth. There was a sense of impatience to the monster’s movement. The Ratsin would look down at the thickest patch of blue fauna with hunger, but rear back with disgust before partaking. Every time the beast would snap towards the Azure Lair, a stare full of longing before scanning the opening to the downward tunnel.

These actions cycled several times as they stealthily watched.

Easy prey, thought Jorgenson and grinned at Warner. Her eyebrows wagged that she wanted to get started. She could feel the storm at the heart of her ready to be stoked at a moment’s notice. A pressure building inside that demanded to be released. The storm acolyte wanted to laugh with the strain of it.

The brawler grinned in response. Cracking his knuckles while checking in with everyone. Stoic Elena and Zachariah nodded while Conor showed his usual supportive enthusiasm. Only Molly showed any reluctance. A crinkled frown marred delicate beauty, but that didn’t bother Jorgenson. The cool-eyed woman rarely showed any eagerness for a fight. Pessimism seemed to be her standard position. In the end, the party was in favor and Warner gave out the battle plan. Some gestures and a few whispered phrases synchronized them.

Molly began the assault. The words to Void’s Impression were whispered under her breath. At the end, Jorgenson felt a twist of intention as something changed about the spell. A dark purple formed above the Ratsin and dove violently down upon it. Normally the effect focused on the eyes and ears alone, but it split towards the mouth too. The curse shoved itself down the monster’s throat, smothering any attempts to cry out. The storm acolyte was impressed. A manual adjustment to the spell that she herself was just getting a hang of. Damian may have outpaced them all, but she was inspired by the chase to keep up. Her attention returned to the battle. Soon it would be her turn.

The three frontliners burst forward in a charge. Warner rushed straight at the giant rat while the two shield-users split to either side to take the flanks. Mana built around their weapons as Jorgenson raised her voice to cast. The words quicken to escape to allow her intent to alter the world.

“I Am The Storm,

Raging And Beautiful,

Be Scoured Within,

Cyclone’s Ire”

Her words echoed in the Hall of Perdition. Jorgenson’s elation was too great to keep quiet as the power flowed through her. A tornado made of gray-green energy appeared above the Ratsin and fell over the beast. It swirled and rampaged with the monster trapped within. There was no sound but the angry whistling of the wind. She maintained the storm until the melee fighters arrived and then collapsed the cyclone upon the beast. The air popped violently as wind shear burst on the monster.

The giant rat collapsed on its knees. Azure blood poured from a thousand cuts and raw burns. There were places where fur was scrapped crudely free. It shuttered and thrashed, but there was no sound. Dark purple Mana still maintained the sensory block. The three melee fighters stepped up and went to work. More azure blood sprayed as they went about the brutal work. Attempts to flail were pointless as they were simply too uncoordinated. An execution, that was quickly over.

Silence reigned as the party waited to see if anything would react to the sudden scuffle. Seconds stretched out and the hush deepened. Nothing. It seemed safe to keep going.

Their attention shifted from the dusting corpse to the Lair. A portal of azure light that seemed like a great eye watching them. The very gloom felt alert to their coming. Jorgenson swaggered forward to join with the others as the party moved towards their destination. They were cautious as professionals, but there was clear confidence in all of their movements. Even Molly looked thoughtfully and pleased at the forming core.

At the edge of the great opening, they got their first look at the Giant’s Lair. It was another enormous open space, but it was distorted. Azure light and deep darkness warped space like an optical illusion. The feeling that it was a huge area was clear, but it was very hard to say what the dimensions were. Every glance seemed to give a completely different impression. Vast and uninterrupted, yet split into sections by the strange flowing curves of the stone floor.

Acting as the only solid landmark was a single Ratsin patrolling the center of the rough expanse. Dreamily, the beast moved in unpatterned circles. Never quite getting too far from a single unremarkable spot. An almost Goliath-sized rat, pattering here and there. The party glanced about searching for any sign of the other monsters. Any hint of the source of the great roar.

Nothing else. Just this solitary rat dawdling about.

“We should take it too,” grinned Jorgenson. “This one will go down just as easily.”

Warner smirked, “You read my mind. This is turning into a cakewalk. Let’s take another bite!”

Elena Cooke

She felt apprehensive about pushing forward again and didn’t respond right away. That Conor enthusiastically joined the other two meant little beyond another vote for yes. On the other hand, Molly holding back her decision was enough confirmation for the ax-wielder to not dismiss her concerns. The cool-eyed woman’s judgment was something that she had learned to respect.

Especially when most of your party seemed willing to jump into anything. Their trust in themselves was admirable, but Elena had no desire to be foolish. Her brush with death tempered the excitement of danger. In this, she definitely sided with Malachi over Warner. Better to be cautious and sure, than dead.

Touchingly, Zachariah waited on her to voice his opinion. His natural indifference often meant he would go with the flow, but their closeness meant the spearman preferred to be in agreement with her. She knew it was more than fondness that moved the man to act like that. As the main defensive agents in the party, it was important to be in sync. Still, it was touching.

Her eyes scanned the empty expanse of the Giant’s Lair. Searching for something. Some hint of a trick. The lone Ratsin seemed strange to her. Rousing suspicion, but intelligence wasn’t really in a rat thing’s wheelhouse. A trap wasn’t likely. Instead, Elena searched for where the others could be tucked away. It was a harder task than it should have been. The azure light shifted slowly and erratically. That wicked radiance augmented and diminished the gloom in random ways. It was virtually impossible to be thorough in your search.

A quick survey hastily became a painfully slow scan. Several times she zeroed in on movement only to find it a shifting shadow. Finding where the light that made shades came from was even harder to trace. Nothing was apparent. The only clear landmark beyond the lone Ratsin was a depression across the way that may be another entryway. If so it was jagged and narrow. What width it had looked manually made judging by the deep impressions from claws and fangs. It was starkly apparent on the stone because of some nearby source of light. Yet, it appeared to be blocked for the center of the depression was the shadows themselves.

The nervous feeling didn’t leave Elena. There was nothing to see, but still, she felt reluctant. Her eyes met Zachariah’s. Though her friend could only shrug in answer to her non-verbal question. He too looked uneasy. Grave eyes tracked the giant monster while glancing for other dangers. Next, she shifted to Molly. Hoping the cool-eyed woman had a more certain response.

“Molly, what do you think?” asked Elena.

A hum of thought as the acolyte of curses drummed her lips with a finger. “I see no reason not to,” Molly admitted with a frown. Turning to Warner with a raised eyebrow, she suggested a demand. “Though, if things go awry, let us depart quickly. Being surrounded will go poorly for us.”

“Nah, if it gets harry… we’ll dip for sure,” assured Warner. “Ya’ll worry too much, we’re strong. Ain’t we, Jorgenson?”

“Fucking A’, we’re a hurricane!” grinned the storm acolyte.

While Elena didn’t share their enthusiasm, she agreed that their group was strong. The ax-wielder believed wholeheartedly that with Zachariah at her side that there wasn’t anything that could trouble them. Trusted in their shield wall, ax, and spear.

And, I can’t forget the power of those we protect, thought Elena, calming herself and preparing to play her part in the battle. We hold the line and they bring hurt on. With Warner, there’s nothing to worry about. He wouldn’t get us in over our heads.

They agreed to repeat the same plan. Molly chanted and her dark purple Mana rushed over their heads as they charged. The three of them stole across the stone to the blinded rat. As Jorgenson’s voice echoed behind them, the ground tilted downwards. In the gloom, it had been hard to tell how deep, but the whole chamber’s floor rippled with deep crevices and rolling hills.

Elena also discovered one of the strange light sources in the room. At the deepest part of the dip was a vein of azure material. Its mad burning light fluctuated even as she leaped over it. Creating a light-strobing effect that caused the quavering distortions of the chamber. A gray-green cyclone screamed past them as the spell collided with the monster and consumed it. They crossed three more depressions before catching up. The depth and width of each were wildly different. One was narrow enough to jump over in the stride of their run. It went very deep.

As they came to the giant Ratsin, the cyclone wavered instead of collapsing inwards. From inside a mad blue flame shredded the spell apart. The monster stepped free of the dying tornado with superficial wounds and even Molly’s curse burned in the azure energy. It stared at them with a crazed grin, completely unconcerned by the few wounds that bled freely.

That feeling of concern settled heavily in her gut again, but Elena didn’t allow that to make her hesitate. Warner didn’t slow down, so she and Zachariah had to keep up. There was no way they would allow their leader to go it alone.

Molly cast Confusion’s Parable. The Ratsin screamed and raked their face as the purple needles drove into the skull. Taking advantage of the flinch, the brawler launched himself into the monster. Burning brightly orange and he slammed his elbow into the gut of the beast.

She and Zachariah charged to the flanks. Elena charged her ax, a flare of magenta, and chopped into the ankle of the giant rat. Blue blood spurted, lubricating the release of the ax. The monster yowelled and a meaty fist slammed wildly at her. It clanged against an empowered shield, but the force of the blow shifted her away. There was a burst of orange above. The way was cleared, and she moved back in. Her ax rose and fell as if to topple a tree. Flesh broke on the blade and the beast tried to lift the foot away. She wouldn’t allow it to escape her.

Across from the way, Zachariah danced about with spear and shield. Skewers of soft sunlight pierced vulnerable spots with every thrust. Light burst from the spear tip every time it broke the skin. Her shield partner delivered a dozen blows to every one of hers. Light damage to keep the Ratsin distracted. He pushed for fatal wounds that the giant had to defend before dipping to cause damage. Between him and Warner savaging above, Elena had plenty of time to send the monster to the ground. As her ax broke through bone, cries of alarm swung her eyes around.

Goliath Ratsins rose like specters from the hidden curves of the Giant’s Lair. Angry azure eyes looked down on them with vicious sneers. A deep bellow vibrated the air, giving Elena a feeling of claustrophobia as the sound pressed down on her. The giants trumpeted in response and began enclosing them. Molly and Jorgenson, standing by the entrance, looked behind them and back to the party. Curses could be heard before the two acolytes rushed forward to join the rest of the party. They wouldn’t leave them to die. Words of power boomed from their throats.

Elena turned back to the fallen Ratsin. She aimed her ax at the vitals to aid Warner and Zachariah finish off this first monster quickly. Powerful chops dug the blade into the thigh seeking one of the main veins found in all mammals. Even twisted mutants. They needed to finish this one fast if they were to have a chance.

Jorgenson finished her spell first, breathing out a great burn of words. A mighty storm blanketed the area surrounding the party. Meant to create precious moments that monsters were hopefully blocked from getting to them. Giving them time to square off together and make the run for it. Molly’s spell was still gathering strength. Elena knew little of spellwork, but it seemed more than just a chant. The cool-eyed woman’s intent was changing the construct of the Mana as she spoke something into existence.

The Ratsin died and began turning to dust as the two acolytes made it to them. In the eye of the storm, green-gray light fought with azure light. They frantically communicated with codewords and gestures. Taking the triangular formation with the acolytes in the middle as the party shifted purposes towards escape. Elena and Zachariah protected the rear with Warner at point. The plan was to charge forward aggressively. Jorgenson sweated as she maintained the great working and Molly seemed oblivious though she walked with them. The acolyte of curses was deep in her Mana, covered in a visible haze of dark purple.

Another booming roar broke the air and the storm died. The storm acolyte cried out in pain as her spell was broken by that dominating bellow. The green-gray winds dropped and revealed the Goliath Ratsins. The monsters hadn’t been trying to find a way through the storm. A dozen of the great beasts had placed themselves in the only way out. Their pace slowed to a stop under the pressure of those stares. Elena’s neck itched like something was staring from behind as she searched for a way past the menacing pack ahead. She didn’t know what was behind, but the ax-wielder felt very surrounded.

Zachariah looked at her grimly, but he nodded stoically. She breathed out the nerves and re-gripped her ax. It would have to be tried. They were strong and might get through this.

At the point of the group, she saw Warner observing their obstacle. His posture was unwavering. He looked back at them. A serious expression as thoughts seemed to pass visibly through his head and then back at the Ratsins.

Very steely, Warner cursed.

Elena felt fear.