What Is This?
This is a page where all the archived chatpters of Storms of Ragnarok go. These chapters are no longer used, as their authors have gone inactive, but the collab continues. The new chapters can be found on the collab's page.
"And now it is time for Action 5 news, with your anchors Bob Shrumple and Linda Gilbright!"
Bob sits at the news desk, looking straight into the camera with a smile. "Good evening folks! Enjoying the weather? I hope so because it looks like it will be continuing for the next few days, but more on that from Wally later on. We begin tonight's broadcast with our top story, the volcano in Greenland that has seen increased activity over the last few days has finally erupted this afternoon."
"Ash is pouring into the atmosphere and is threatening all air travel in the region. Several major airports from London to Paris to Rome are all keeping an eye on wind conditions to see if they will need to cancel any flights. Closer to the volcano, a state of emergency has been declared and the few people who lived in the area have evacuated. For a better look at this, let's go out to our field reporter Dan Snyder. Dan?"
The scene cuts to a static-filled image of a man standing in front of a small country town. The man, town, and every other thing in the shot are covered in a layer of fine ash, that contiinues to rain down around them. "Thanks, Bob! We are here on the far side of the blast, away from the main lava flow. The villages here are not in any danger of burning right now, but the ash is causing breathing problems for some as well as sucking the heat right out of the air. We tried getting around to the other side earlier, but were turned back by police. Apparently a very large stretch of land is on fire already and many homes have already been lost. I am now getting word that even this area is expected to sound an evacuation soon, so I am being asked to cut my report off here. Back to you Bob."
Bob gives one of his trademark fake smiles."Well, that does sound serious. What can you tell us about the rest of the world, Linda?"
Linda organizes a few pages of notes in front of her before looking up at the camera. "Well, if those volcano refugees need a place to cool down, perhaps they should try the Sonoran Desert! I mean it folks. The temperatures there are reaching down into some all time record lows. When was the last time you thought of Arizona or Mexico for your ski trip destination? Let's go out to Miranda for a close-up look at the conditions out there."
Scene shifts to an all white scene with a single woman dressed in arctic gear struggling against the wind. Snow is billowing past her and she can barely be heard over the storm around her. "Thanks Linda! I am here in Yuma, Arizona where triple digit temperatures are common and it never drops below 0...not until now at least. A super cold mass of air seems to be blowing in from the tropics, of all places, and leaving an icy path of devastation from the Baja Penninsula all the way across Northern Mexico and the Southwest US, right up to the Western fringes of Texas."
"We are getting reports of frozen water mains, blackouts, and ruined crops all across the major cities as utilities are battered by conditions nobody could have predicted. And if it seems grim here, it is even worse in smaller communities on both sides of the border. There are casualty reports coming in from everywhere that are quickly pushing this disaster towards being the worst in the history of North America. Both governments are sending what aid they can, but given the current conditions, it is unlikely that help will arrive anytime soon."
The reporter is blown over and struggles to get back to her feet. "The conditions continue to worsen as we stand here and we are being advised to seek shelter immediately. We will send more information too you as soon as we get a clear signal again. Back to you Linda."
Linda stares into the camera, mirroring Bob's fake smile form before. "Thank you, Miranda. We will be back with all your day's sports news, right after this word from our sponsor..."
It was a pretty usual day in the Norse demigod camp: Šárka Capello was beating up David Frodar for trying to set her up with someone, Snorri Hunter and Mánadís Aamodt were studying texts on the porch of the huge, log cabin-style library, and Ixchel Maddox was wandering around the camp boredly.
Mánadís ran over to where Sar was. “What are you doing!?”
Her loud voice reached Ixchel, and she wandered over, hoping to see a fight.
Sar paused for a moment and looked from David to Mánadís. “Is that a trick question or something?”
“No! It’s not! Seriously!”
Sar rolled her eyes. “There’s a thing called training.”
Mánadís blinked. “Oh…right…” she ran back to the porch of the library and resumed reading, and Sar went back to beating David up. Ixchel cursed at the lack of a fight, and walked away.
Suddenly, Mánadís looked up from her book, startled, and ran over to Snorri, who was sitting at the other end of the porch, also reading.
“D-do y-you notice something weird?” she asked Snorri, who was reading about the same topic: Ragnarok. Snorri looked up and nodded, also with a kind of startled expression.
“I-it’s coming…” said Mánadís in a panicky voice. Snorri, not much of a talker, nodded again. Mánadís sighed and kneeled down. “We have to tell the others.”
Mánadís thought about who to tell. “We-we can’t just tell anyone…”
Snorri nodded, but then had a thought. “Wait, you know the whole end-of-the-world stuff about the 12th of December? In 2012?”
“You mean 21st.”
“Right…well, maybe that’s when Ragnarok happens.”
“Yes. December 21st, 2012, at 12:21 a.m. …the Maya knew.”
Snorri, back to her quiet self, just nodded.
“Great. So we know the exact time and date and hour and minute that this is all going to happen.” Said Mánadís, still panicked but trying to hide it.
“Yes.” Said Snorri. They fell silent again, thinking about who they could tell.
Ixchel noticed Mánadís and Snorri talking, and though she didn’t think anything of it, she continued wandering nearer in their direction, planning on eavesdropping. She walked over nonchalantly, trying not to look suspicious.
Snorri noticed her nearing and fell silent. Ixchel cursed in her head, but decided to just walk over since her cover was blown anyway. “Whatcha guys talkin’ about?”
Snorri ignored her, but Mánadís answered, “Penguins.”
“Eh? Interesting chat.” Said Ixchel. “You two looked a bit worried. Afraid they’re gonna take over the world?” she laughed, obviously not buying it.
Mánadís forced a laugh. “Yeah, we were talking about…Global Warming. How it’s basically taking over the earth.”
Ixchel sat down, trying to annoy them. “I think I would love to be a part of this discussion. About your, uh, Global Heating, or whatever…”
Mánadís sighed, and Snorri closed the book, mentally yelling at Ixchel to go away. Ixchel stayed, anyway.
“So, no one cares about polar bears? Only penguins?” she asked, enjoying annoying them.
Snorri sighed. “The polar bears too. They, along with the penguins, are losing their natural habitat.”
Ixchel grinned, knowing she’d won this already. Snorri and Mánadís, not really having any other choice lest they have to tell Ixchel their theory, continued talking about Global Warming with her. After a while, Sar had gotten bored of beating David up, and wandered over, wondering what was so interesting.
“So, what’s going on over here?” she asked.
Snorri sighed again, realizing they wouldn’t be getting out of there any time soon. Ixchel grinned at Sar.
“We’re talking about Global Heating.”
“Global Heating? Can’t say I’ve heard of that.” Said Sar, raising an eyebrow.
Snorri sighed in exasperation. “It’s Global Warming.” She said irritably, standing up and setting her book down. “And shouldn’t we be getting to lunch?”
Just then, there were sounds of an explosion, and a bunch of fist sized rocks rained down on the camp. Snorri looked up toward where the rocks had come from and gasped. The volcano at the northwestern corner of the camp was spewing lava toward the north, but ash and rocks were flying in all directions, particularly toward the camp. Campers were running about like chickens with their heads cut off, with no apparent destination except to get away from the rocks and ash. Snorri just stood there, looking up at the volcano with disbelief.
“It’s started…” she whispered. “The beginning of the end of the world…”
I should've known it was coming, I thought as I dodged a large volcanic rock that narrowly misssed me- about half a foot away- which then let off a giant poof of ash. I coughed and waved my hand in front of my face, trying to get air to breathe, and just so I could see.
It was mass chaos. Campers were screaming and pushing others out of the way to get to their cabins for safety. The jarls were barking out orders, and trying to herd the campers to their respective cabins. The jarl for the Heimdall cabin, my cabin, whose name I believe was Rick or Johnny or something like that, was grabbing my wrist and shouting at me to get into my cabin and to hide under my bunk.
"Don't stop for anyone! Save yourself!" He cried, gesturing for me to run. I nodded, and ran like Hel was knocking at my door, which, in a way, I suppose it was. I threw open the door of my cabin, not caring enough to look to see who else made it, and dived under my bunk.
There were lots of loud thuds, screams, and the occasional shattering of wood. I should've known! I could've helped.. I beat myself up, because there had been signs. The dream, the horn sounding, and just my general feeling of bad coming.
I was getting rather bored, believe it or not, sitting under my bunk. My mind drifted off, and as it had done lately, wandered off to remeber my dream.
A blond man sat on a throne before me. There must've been at least fifteen steps leading up to his throne, and I was on the ground level, a few feet away from the stairs. "Daughter," he called, "come closer." I did as my father told me. I stepped foward and stared at the scenery, then at the ground, afraid to even glance at my father. From what little I got of the view, it seemed to be Himinbjörg, my father's kingdom, like from the books at camp. "Look up, dearest child. I do wish to see my young daughter's face. You must be beautiful if you are indeed your mother's child." I did again what my father told me. I looked up and stared into the golden eyes of the great god Heimdall.
My usual quirky grin was wiped off my face. Heimdall nodded, as if approving me. "Ixchel, my daughter, there is not much time. I must be quick. Something great is happening. You must help me. Do you accept?" I gulped and nodded nervously. "Good. Now, when strange things start to happen, you must be aware and take notice. These are signs. Signs of what, I am not allowed to say. It is a risk just talking with you now. Now when the signs start- oh, Dear Odin! Child, you must leave. I will give you a warning. Beware!"
My eyes went wide. "What? Father? Father!" I cried as Heimdall and all of Himinbjörg lost its color, then disappeared. Everything was black. An evil, mischevious laugh echoed through the darkness.
I woke up in a cold sweat. I looked around at my surroundings. I was no longer in Himinbjörg, but in my cabin at camp. I looked at my half-siblings, to see if any of them had the same dream. No one looked as freaked out as me, so I assumed not. I was alone in this.
My day-dreaming was interrupted when the cabin door slammed. I peeked my head out from under my bunk to see who came in. My cabin's jarl walked in with two of my siblings over his shoulder. They were covered from head-to-toe in ash, and had cuts and scrapes all over. The jarl coughed, and ash came out. He dropped the two on a random bed, causing it to creak and groan. Another puff of ash came off of them. The squeak of the bed reminded me of another noise that should've prepared me for this...
It was was about a week ago, just a normal day at camp. I was heading off to train, then a loud- very, very loud horn blew. It pierced my ears, and was like torture to my brain. I dropped to my knees, and covered my ears with my hands. I opened my eyes briefly to see if anyone else could actually hear it. People were staring at me like I was crazy. This would probably get me thrown out of camp, since, I guess, craziness could be a weakness. My eyes locked on a furry, four-legged creature with long, curled horns. It was a ram. It "baaah"-ed at me, revealing golden teeth. The ram bleated again, then trotted off back into no where. The horn suddenly stopped blaring, and my hands left my ears.
The jarls had come and started to round up their campers and get them to where they were going, giving me looks seeming to say "What's wrong with you?" I stood, trying to not let them get to me, dusted my jeans off, and went on my way to training. I hoped Sif would not hear about this and throw me out. I remembered my father's message in my dream, "I will give you a warning." Maybe this was the warning he was sending. I guess I'd find out sooner or later.
Another rock slammed into the ground, much closer to my cabin. It shook the entire thing. I tried to keep my mind off of the coming "wiping clean" of the earth. I looked around. My eyes locked on a dirty camp t-shirt that had made it's way under my bunk.
"Only the strong can survive," the shirt read. The camp motto. Heh, I thought, I hope we're all pretty darn strong. But even then I don't think all of us- if any of us- can survive.