Havok

*"They were inside the building already, what was I supposed to do? Wait around for them to rob the place and maybe kidnap me? Nuh-uh, no can do. I grabbed the nearest thing and threw it at 'em. Not my fault half the place is filled with explosives, seems to me like a safety oversight. Why am I barely burned? Because like I said, it knocked me out the window, and I'm naturally resistant to fire, dummy! You found the crispy bodies of the bad guys, so it's cut and dry, open shut case. I don't like what your implying with so many questions about it all."*

## 3...2...1... \*click\*

Havok was a nickname actually. She'd run away from home long ago, and had a penchant for getting into just the right amount of trouble. Not so much that she'd actually suffer much in the way of consequences (at least, if she got caught) but always enough to have people turn their heads her direction if something went wrong.

She liked it though, the nickname. Some old geezer called her it once, probably meant it to be insulting or something. What did she care. It wasn't like she left anything behind when she moved on from the area she grew up in to a little hamlet just outside Corovon. She'd trek a few miles along the outside of the town to reach the work she'd picked up. She'd had a knack for alchemy it seemed, and a local guy was paying her to work nights under the table to make a little extra on the side. It wasn't half bad work actually, no one was around to pester her or annoy her, the nature of her employment kept her income lowkey, and she got to experiment with blasting powder and fireworks. The whole place was full of em, the guy must have been pretty popular with... uh.. whoever bought explosions? It wasn't something that had occurred to her that you could sell before. Must have been a market though, because he had a nice place running and could afford the extra hands. Nothing could possibly go wrong here, letting a little Havok into your business model.

.

Havok kept her nose clean for almost a year actually. Could've kept it cleaner too if she wanted. It wasn't her fault anyways.

It was late at night. She was doing her usual, packing sulfur, magnesium and a little special mixture down some tubes and sealing off the ends. That's when she heard it. Her little familiar clamored into the room, knocking over a candle that dripped hot wax onto some paper on the floor.

"Michael!" She chastizingly whispered. "You gotta play it safe around here, we've sworn off trouble, remember?"

She looked over at the small flame that started to lick along the paper, burning a sweet bright light that played as it danced away from the wax.

She stepped on it to snuff it out. "You can't tempt me like that. We both know that A: I need a job, and B: I like fire. But we can't always have everything we want." She addressed to the little flying squirrel. He was just like the real thing sometimes.

.

Then the sound happened again, like something was bumping farther along. Like a sack of potatoes being thrown onto a wood paneled floor. She stepped one more time on the fire with some regret to make sure the embers choked out, before peeking around the corner. It looked like... two guys with cloaks on. Why would there be anyone else here, the dwarf seemed to prefer that she didn't tell anyone she was working under the table - especially those Abadar snobs, so why change that now? It took a moment before she realized that she was being daft.

The way they wondered at all the stuff, and motioned to the fireworks. It wasn't like someone looking to buy it for a children birthday party. It was like someone who looking at their coin purse. Burglars. People who had the audacity to burgle. She'd known a few before, always stuck up - believing that they had a right to everything. Real pain to get along with, she remembered as her face contorted. The started to grab boxes and hand them out to someone, probably on the other side of the window. A whole crew, the audacity. That's when one looked over at her and noticed her peeking. They both recognized eachother, as she ducked back inside the room.

"Banner? What's HE doing here?" This was exactly the kind of person that made her hate burglars. And also, exactly the kind of person she didn't want to be stuck in a shack with among a bunch of his cronies.

"Whelp, you were right all along Michael, sorry for doubting you, you little scamp."

Havok grabbed the open ended firework from off the table, readied to run back into the main room. ***Three***, She ran back. ***Two**,* She sparked the ignition. ***One**,* the explosive left her hand. Banner barely began to cuss at her when the primed weapon barely missed his head. He dodged, but to be fair - she hadn't been aiming at him. It was lit, and as it landed in a recently opened crate of similar shaped goods, Havok jumped for the window holding her little scamp to her chest.

***\*click\****

 It was almost imperceptible, as a moment later it was lost in a cacophony when the loud ***drum*** of lit powder's fury blasted in a fireball against her back, propelling her through the glass and out onto the ground in front of the business. She knocked over one of the thug members (likely a good thing for him if he still valued his eyebrows and charming face no doubt) and turned back in time to see the second explosion - this one that blew the top off the building in a massive column of smoke, light and screaming. Her hearing had gone numb, but she could feel the *heat* - the ***power,*** of the blast in her chest with ever crack pop and whizz that thrummed in the air, a sonic symphony played in the rumble of the earth. Time seemed to almost stretch out as golden sparkler spin and zipped, heralding the sounds of the basement popping. She hadn't even known he's been storing stuff down there. The house surely wished he hadn't though, as stone rocketed from stone, eager to race each other through the air now filled with trails of smoke, ash and dirt. Where the second explosion blew up, the finale blew out, the very framework of the carefully laid masonry reversed in a flash - the brightest, most glorious and beautiful flash Havok had ever seen. She could watch this go on forever.

.

 All in all, the event ended rather quickly. The outside confederate fled, as one is want to do when shit goes this sideways on a job. But Havok lay there, playing the whole thing out in her mind right up until the Coin Nosed guard started sniffing about the place. They asked her a bunch of boring questions, like who she was, why she was here, who she worked for, what happened, did she cause it blah blah blah. boring stuff. She knew how to answer their types of questions now, and they likely wouldn't be interested her real point of view anyways. Not unless it had a bottom line somewhere. They charged her 'back taxes' later on after things calmed down, because apparently she owed them money for keeping her mouth shut or something. The Owner was non-to-happy, because apparently he had to pay even more, but he had insured the place again accident so it's not like he'd lost everything or something. It all turned out fine, and Havok's dreams began to lengthen and broaden in scope. One day, she'd become a better mage. One day, she'd be able to through out such amazing explosions that people would stand and stare in awe as she did. They'd understand what was so beautiful about it, when she got strong enough - they'd just be no denying it. It was a simple fact of life.

## Out of the Frying Pan...

Havok started to make a name for herself. She took up a few adventuring jobs here and there. Anything that could both get her paid - but more importantly, let her practice that sweet lovin' craft of firemaking. She was present when a Drow escaped, and scorched mounds of spiders along the way. She escorted several goblins to the furnace in the sky. She crisped a large number of gnolls attacking a farm. She charred swarms of vermin in a mineshaft. She was starting to make a real name for herself as a cleanser of ah... anything that she legally gained the okay to turn to ash. She even started to make a few friends. A bard named Pandora seemed to get where she came from a bit, or at least, seemed pretty chill - which was all Havok could ask for sometimes. A couple others were interested to perhaps employ or otherwise connect with her fiery talents. One solid friend she made however, was a Tiefling named Chiyoko. That girl could understand a good time! They first really started getting along when both of them were fighting some damned ghosts or something, and suuure they both were a little out of their minds, but drunken people have done worse. All they did was laugh, sing and dance in a house Havok set on fire. It was a great fire, oh boy. Watching it melt away against a smoke filled black on blue sky was a pleasure. After that was uh... some hostage situation or something. Chiyoko and Havok covered eachothers back, and it felt good to have someone she could count on around for once OTHER than herself. And Michael, couldn't forget her scamp of a familiar Michael. Lesseee, what else did they burn... Oh yeah, those odd ratfolk had some problems with dead coming back to life. Toasted like kindling those. Smelled bad enough that someone might have thrown up though. Note for the future, never breath in as you roast a fermenting undead creature.

Life was going great. A couple days after a swap meet with Chiyoko for formulae, they both signed up to help stop a kidnapper. Apparently, some armoured troupe had picked up some waif from some noble do-dah, and he was paying big bucks to remove the tin cans from the equation. Slow people in conductive material with no where to go?

Duh!

It all went alright for a little while. They stuck up real good like; quite, subtle. Chiyoko, some family member of hers that WASN'T the one that kept making everything damnably moist, That Shazz guy, another gun user (they always had really cool tubes that used explosions to shoot things. It sounded like pyromancy with extra steps, but she could respect it) and some other person went about to find the princess and save the day. Naturally, the local fire fanatic went for the main disruptive force. And oh boy, did she fuse a few men with their metal carapaces. They had the advantage - the enem was trying to form a shield line for defense. What jokers, didn't they know who she was? She stepped forwards a little early though, she'd gotten just a little too comfortable, a little too cocky.

The Shield wall crumbled, men screaming only for a moment over the roar of the flames, and it made her laugh. Didn't these people know that it was dumb to do that in front of a dedicated flamethrower? They might as well have been humping eachother as they died, their armour glowing red hot, and Havok giggled until the flames died out. Injured, but unbroken, the commander in the back stepped through the flames. But she'd be alright, those other pople behind her would do what they did and-uh.. where were those armoured lugnuts anyways? She glanced backwards. Surely, they were right behind her, yeah?

Nope.

Though they encouraged the direct approach, and pointed towards the frontlines - they did as all nobles always seemed to do. They played it safe, and let others move up first, staying to cover, minimizing contact. That's how you protract a fight, not win a fight! But wait, if Havok was the only one pushing the fronline, then----

She looked forward with a resolved fear. Her heatbeat burned as fast as her hands, and she could hear the blood in her ears, muffling some words the enemy commander spoke. He pointed at her, and his weapon glowed with a light.

No. This wasn't how she was gonna go. She was going to be *great*, prove everyone *wrong.*

He stepped forwards with his polearm, and the world slowed down as he thrust it forwards.

Noble garbage,they'd put her here. It was their fault, this was~~ The thought was cut off by the severing of nerves along her chest. It felt painful, like... like her chest was on fire. The shock was broken by another cut, and one more along her chest. She blacked out just before third stroke punctured through her heart.

Havok fell to the ground, an empty look of pain and shock on her face. She was the only casualty on the adventurers side that day. Her body was added to a funeral pyre, burned up along with prayers to the heavens for a souls safe transit just the same as dozens of soldiers - many of which were charred before the funeral rites flames ever touched them. The few connections she'd made reacted each in their own way. The bard Pandora pitied the loss of an effective teammate. Some turned their heads at the body, their expressions unknown. Chiyoko took it hard however. Perhaps it was because they both shared a carefree nature. Perhaps it was because they'd spent some time learning a little about each other, or the instinctual way they covered for each other when the going got tough. Havok would never have directly said it, but she was thankful for the camaraderie and lack of judgement. Maybe it's all she'd needed.

## Personality

Havoks was a handful. She's quick to lost interest in things that don't interest her, as weird as that sounds. She's also a sassy lass, who tends to rub people the wrong way at times. That said, she does have a soft spot, and does think that doing "bad things" is wrong. It's just, she has a slightly different perception on what ass is a "bad thing", and REALLY likes doing one of them. In a safe, controlled, and socially acceptable environment of course, she would never let it get out of hand or just blow something up for no reason. At least, not if anyone would find out or get hurt. Most likely.

## Appearance

At first glance, most would not identify Havok as an Ifrit. But it's the red eyes, red hair, and the penchant she has for snapping her fingers with a spark cantrip that helps most less versed in identification to catch up to speed. She's usually got a Flying squirrel familiar nearby, who's usually fooling around with sticks and grabbing various things. She made him actually once. He's a ho-mun-cul-us. But he looks, acts, and breaths like any other flying squirrel who is involved with a pyromancer. His name is Michael. And he is, in fact, a scamp.

## Relationships and connections

Well, she burned her bridges long ago. And recently, it appears that she's uh.... burned a little bit more than bridges. So, she'd prefer to look at it instead as "Emotionally and socially uninhibited" and free to do what-EVER she wants.