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Rebelle grumbled to herself as she crouched in the basement store room underneath her squalid shack in the slums of Brookfell, rummaging through the piles of trash and scrap in search of more fuel to feed the starving fire which flickered weakly at the bottom of the battered, rusty trash can in the center of the room. The low-hanging ceiling formed by the floor above was covered with layers of worn plastic tarps and tattered blankets in an effort to trap as much heat in the small subterranean...

Molly glanced up at the ceiling of the basement store room beneath the house that she shared with her trainer Rebelle as the sound of something metallic dropping to the floor echoed through the floorboards, her head tilting in curiosity as the noise was followed by the sound of cursing. A few minutes later footsteps crossed the floor towards the ladder and Rebelle climbed down into the store room with what resembled a crude shield held onto her left arm with worn cargo straps that were rivete...

Rebelle moved around the improvised training area that she had set up beneath her home in Brookfell for her and Molly, setting up the remaining targets which had endured their recent explosive practice session. Most of the survivors had either been only grazed by Molly's explosive spikes or they had been knocked over by the concussive force of one of the blasts, sparing them from being targeted directly. Either way, they had earned the privilege of enduring a second round of training with the...

Rebelle moved around the edge of the store room beneath her house, leaning sheets of scrap metal against walls, setting empty cans on surfaces, and hanging bits and bobs from the rafters with bits of wire. To each improvised target she added a crude bullseye made with a few quick sprays of red paint from a mostly empty rattle can she had found in one of the piles of junk. As she was adding the last bullseye to one of the targets the paint ran out and she paused for a moment before shrugging a...

Rebelle grunted as she shoved a partially disassembled fridge to the side of the cluttered hole in the rock which served as a store-room beneath the abandoned, run-down storefront which she had claimed as her home. She didn't know who had owned the building originally, but whoever it was had left behind piles of junk in the rusted out structure when they had left. Most of it had gotten shoved down the hatch into the hole beneath, out of sight out of mind after-all, but now that she finally ha...