Mind over matter.

[Ulrich Craggenmoor]

The wizard was beginning to spend more time here than in any other place. A worrying conecpt for someone who didn't enjoy the idea of being beaten and running for his life. The prospect of living through death wasn't exactly appealing either.

Of course he knew full well that whatever happened in the citadel had minimal repercussions on you personally, what with the monk's apparent power over life and death, but when a rolling ball of fire was screaming its way towards your bleary eyes you had a set of reeactions built into your instincts. In split moments like that, you still ran for your life. Regardless of whatever happened after you died, the knowledge that you would be put back together even caused some opponents to become sadistic, holding nothing back and tearing limbs off and using them as clubs until you were only a thick paste across the ground.

No matter the final outcome, having to live through that wasn't going to be plesant.

Ulrich wanted to live here. Not in the citadel, although that was a thought he had considered, but in Radasanth. The captial of Corone. The great citadel tower grew from it's centre and streatched high into the sky, overcasting the city in a shadow that could stretch beyond the outer limits whenever the sun touched the horizon. The building itself was awe-inspiring and even that was dwarfed by what was inside. The powers held by the monks. To create worlds on a whim. Powers held by gods were contained in that spire. Ulrich wanted all of it.

In a perfectly healthy, for the greater good, fashion. Of course.

So that Ulrich was here to experement wouldn't be a total surprise to anybody.

They frowned on the citadel being used for much else than an area. Asking for a good night with a handfull of elves got you a dirty look and a quick escort out. Then you had to go and get a real escort which was a pain in the ass since nowhere withing three hundered meters of the citadel would do anything close to lewd, let alone sexual. But with every failure was a lesson. The prime one here being: Dont go to an arena for a free shag. No, Ulrich was here for a different reason.

Training. He had had his arse kicked three too many times recently by petty thugs and it was something Ulrich was wanting to change. For a wizard, training means one thing. The citadel was, Ulrich hoped, the easiest way to go about it.

The monk at the gate, the same average looking half-ork as always, bowed his head slightly under the cloth hood of his robes upon Ulrich's arrival, as a sign of mutual respect; agreement to the many un-spoken rules that governed the place and to the level of trust that was placed with them each time someone passed over the ancient stone threshold and into the great belly of the beast. As Ulrich's sturdy boots squeaked onto the polished marble floor of the atrium, three older monks, deep wrinkles worn away into their brow and eyes hid age so effectively that you wouldn't be sure if they werent breathing when the tower was first built moved to greet and seek out his wishies for his chosen arena, or if Ulrich was simply here for an opponent. One who was waiting, perhaps?

-No, Ulrich replied. For he was here with an idea. one he wanted the Monks to bring to fruition. If they could. And Ulich described, In broad strokes, what he wanted.

-This is, an old idea. The monk who replied was clearly the oldest of the trio. His skin was white and paper thin, with nearly nothing obviously holding him together: the being was practically a corporeal ghost. But even being old and fragile, the old monk managed to slap his palm against Ulrich's brow, dropping the wizard into darkness as a bolt of energy passed between them, a power as old as the earth. His body fell to the ground and lay there for a few moment, the tails of his coat spread ut behind his back. Before the wizards body was moved from the recieving room.

Appearencies and all of that.

Ulrich's eyes were open almost instantly. The Citadel was gone and in it's place there was simply a featureless plane of grey with nothing to distinguish it. The ground seemed to stretch forever (It probably did) The sky above was a lighter shade of grey with a touch of blue and looked as though there was nothing in it. (There wasn't) The only landmark was a small castle twent yards away, A drawbridge was lowered across a dry moat leading into the vast expanse of the interior.

-My mind is a fortress. He muttered under his breath, the sound somehow echoing around him in a disjointed manner that forced a shiver up and around his spine. He cheked himself, still with all the attire and equipment which he had brought to the Citadel. Ulrich meandered towards the castle and over the drawbridge, considering.

-Needs water.

His footsteps echoed and bounced off the full moat beneath the wooden planks. The interior had a warm, comfortable feel. an ethereal light filled the plane he was on in an even, dim, grey light. Punctured every now and again by small fire torches, hung from the walls. A nice touch but not necessary. He concentrated and they remained. It seemed that what ever is here to begin with was here permenantly. The Professional wizard made it a point to check the library later. Maybe the Monks had used some of their own magical knowledge to fill the pages.

Now though. He would wait for his opponent, Curious to find out if they would know where they had been sent.

[BlackGhostofSeaside]

The pain slowly ebbed away until it vanished. Until the last drop of earth shaking pain was gone through, he still moaned. At last, it was gone. Yet the prince still held his eyes, scared to death of him going blind. However, a warm hand rubbed his head, and a familiar, caring voice said, "It's over now. Open your eyes!" She was excited, the boy could tell.

He himself though was uncertain. He could swear he'd felt his eyes bleed. "Did... D-did I shed blood?"

"No." The female voice replied back, "You shed tears a lot, but not blood."

The boy moved his legs closer to the edge of the heated bed, moist from his own sweat. He let out a shaky sigh. "I'm not ready."

The hand slipped off his head, he soon felt two arms wrapped around one of his own, "C'mon, Julius! It's not everyday you inherit something new from your family."

Julius moaned again, still recovering from the last forty-two hours of deep pain. He did not reply the young woman sitting on a seat next to him. He simply opened his aching eyes, still darkened within the palms of his pale hands. He felt himself vibrating in the darkness and in the bed. He slowly pulled his hands down. He found himself looking up to the stone grey ceiling of his room. He heard a gasp, mixed with joy and fear. Julius looked over to the edge of the bed with his groggy eyes, laying his vision on his love. "Well?" He asked in a tired, hoarse voice; he hadn't slept in two days.

A brunette girl, around his age, looked right into his eyes. "They're different..."

Julius smirked, a relieved scoff coming from his mouth, "Then... I finally posses the Tabor's true power..."

Although his vision was blurred, the Tabor could see the girl sitting next to his bed shaking her finger. "It's not all about power, 'ya know."

Julius felt a smile spread across his face, "Yes, I know... But this - it's sensational." He could start to feel the new power of his family spreading from the pain in his eyes to a burning energy throughout his entire body. He welcomed it, savoring a moment of strength. Strength he would use to protect the girl smirked down on him.

"By the way", the girl spoke to him again, "Happy birthday."

Julius chuckled, "Thanks, Ashla."



~~~


The recent memories were flooding across Julius Tabor's mind. Now of age, he'd gained the eyes that were the signature to his family. Why he was here? To use them.

As Julius walked down the halls of the marvelous Citadel, Julius couldn't sense the world around him. Due to the fact that his powers were currently, you could say, 'shut off' he could see clearly. However, aside watching the monk that led him to the proper room, Julius could sense nothing. He could only sense his memories instead.

Julius was surprised when the monk suddenly stopped and turned to him. He pointed to an already opened door, a motion that this was his stop. The Tabor head smiled and gave a curt nod to the monk before entering the arena.




~~~


Julius stepped from one room into the other. Simple as that, the door's room had been cold and dark, but when he stepped in he suddenly felt warmth. Julius' eyes sparkled at the first thing he saw: fire. He was inside an eerie, but homey, castle room. It didn't have much to say about it, as the only notable features were the flames hanging on the walls; as well as the haunting sensation the old, rough stone walls and floor gave. He smirked and walked over to the closest torch to him. He reached out and began to play with the flames, manipulating them into brief bursts of orange and forming them into the basic shapes. He continued to enjoy it while waiting for his opponent, his face cherry and youthful... However, the moment he heard echoing footsteps, his face changed in a heartbeat. As he glared towards the entryway to the cylinder shaped room, his features became dark and concentrated - this young boy had experienced his family being overthrown, living off sin in a group of bloodthirsty bandits, and even a war. The sound of his opponent walking through, and the long shadow cast within the flames' light, were enough to snap him into action.

The young man briefly reached for his sword, but his hand froze just inches away from it. He let out a puff of air, he would not use such tactics yet. First, he would hit his opponent with everything his eyes got. As a figure finally entered the room, Julius slipped into a casual stance as he quickly looked over the man he would be fighting. He looked average, with average clothes and supplies on his back. Julius reminded himself that he too looked about average before placing his hand loosly on the hilt of his broadsword, resting it there, and greeting the person he saw. If anything this fight could be simple or chaotic, as the prince of Eiskalt had no idea what this man was capable of. Julius wished though that he didn't have much willpower to resist the fresh cards he had in his smooth hand.

"'Hallo," Julius called across the room, creating an echo, "You are my opponent I take it? I am Julius Tabor. Let this be a fair and simple clash of arms." Heh. hardly true... Julius attempted to make eye contact with this man, although he was all the way over by the arcing entryway. As soon as he could see this man's own eyes, he would activate his family's eyepower and lock his mind games onto him. He would allow his family's blood to do all the work while throwing the ability Dance in the Fire on him. This trick was simple really, traumatize the opposing force with a haunting and terrifying memory from their lifetime and leave them to savor it. If he could just make eye contact, Julius could do it, as he already activated his eyes by now. If he hit the man, all Julius would have to do now is take the advantage of all his openings and pluck him with an arrow. Julius had to force himself not to wince over the one weakness of his ability though: now his vision was foggy all over again!

[Ulrich Craggenmoor]

Walking through the castle, Ulrich was curious to find that in a moment the place changed. It was a subtle shift as another psyche was added to the mix and each one painted the world in it's own tones together with the other. Curious. The closing of a door, creaking back into it's frame confirmed the suspicion that Ulrich had. An opponent had arrived much sooner than the wizard had wanted it to.

The walls had become darker. Each torch on the walls however had become, brighter, more real or... no, the flames had, while the once gilded torches now faded to simple wooden thrones for the majestic red flowers they now supported. Interesting. Some things did not change. The clarity of it all, each detail was nearly sharper than that of reality. The floor stones were still precise squares, carved and inlaid perfectly. As well as the stones of the walls. And the shadows the flickering light cast around him left him in relative dark.

-Hallo, he called out, forcing Ulrich to a stop at the lip of shadow, leaving his head darkened as the light from the torches crept up his chest. Ulrich had come to experiment. So he was largly likely to be the only one, this one here for battle as the citadels proper use and daily activites demanded.

-...clash of arms.

Seemed unlikely. Ulrich was a wand user and no good in close combat, a trait he wished had been rectified by now for his own survival, and partly for showmanship. Using a wand in close combat was a marvelous thing to see as the wielder avoids blows and manvoovers his weapon ato blast at the aggrivator with close shots of magic. Something to add to the list in any case. But for now hed have to get the kid by surprise, he wasn't fast enough to his wand to quickdraw on anyone, even with it strapped to his chest, planely visible between his coat flaps. Maybe it was best to start off slowly.

-Best of meetings to you. I am Ulrich, of cragge... He stopped nearly the instant his feet pulled him from the dark, intending to emerge dramatically from the shadows and give a pretty decent first impression, but no sooner than the dark had passed his brow, and his eyes locked together with those of Julius his whole self locked up, those eyes all that he could see. all that existed. Then they were gone, and he was back here.

Back in Bexter street.

The sky was clear, the weather was warm and breezy. The market was full of people.

Ulrich screamed bloody defiance as the arena too his mind and plastered the scene about them, The castle was suddenly filled with tarps and people and produce and Ulrich's utter and complete failure. His memory reacted wildly as the events was drawn out of the dust filled recesses of his mind, more people filled the castle and Julius was blocked from view. Soon the youth would be hit by the tide of bodies, Ulrich was there. so close to the end of his case. Only one person to find before it was too late.

You just have to gag them, take them by surprise get him before he can do anything, just GET THERE FAST

The yelled orders of his mentor, still rang in his head. A glimpse of a young elf male, black hair with a streak of blonde along the right side shuffled past him in a deep red cloak. Stealing away the wizards attention for a moment. Before seeing past the stranger, a bald headed human with a black line tattoed around his neck. The wizard turned and pushed his way against the current and back the way he came. He was going too slowly as the target sank to his knees and started to scream for passage while he began to say the prayer in his head, knowing how much time he had left. The way cleared as the speach ended in his mind and his wand was in his hand, firing wildly at the apparition. Knowing it would already be too late.

The explosion was world shattering. The dressings from Ulrich's mind were wiped out from the eternal fortress which was unscratched. Ulrich remembered reaching out to a girl, a final act to save someone. To save anyone, and his shield came up a fraction too late and the initial roaring blast had singed his shirt. All he had managed to save was the dark skinned hand of that little girl. It had ended at the elbow and survivors had to pry it out of Ulrich's pale, soot covered hands. Living through this the first time had sent him into a depression so deep he had almost died because of it. Now, with the scene settling away from the castle. Knowing what had happened. Ulrich felt a totally different range of emotions. He turned, examined the area. Julius had attempted to use the scenario as a way to distract the wizard. The physical apparation he had caused as a side effect of the arena was a total surprise. As had been the explosive death curse of Ulrich's target.

-place holder-

If Julius didn't know what this place was, thatit was moulded by what you're mind, that you can create by simply concentrating, Then the sudden apparition of Ulrich's darkest days would have been a surprise. It was all real enough. The shockwave wiped out the street and everyone in it, erasing the mental dressings over the castle and knocking the wizard on his ass, rolling backwards and bouncing onto his feet, reacting on memory. It was easy to react to what you know is coming.

Wand in hand, Ulrich scanned the immediate area for Julius. He had dragged Ulrich's past kicking and screaming into the daylight, to use it as a mere distraction, the realisation bit into his mind like a tick, painful, un-ignorable and burning slowly. Tinting his vision red.

The wizard had a loose code of morals. This was pretty limiting against torture, manipulation and blind cruelty. His morals left nearly everything else open to interpretation. The boy had, in Ulrich's traumatised mind, Broken all of these rules which were upheld to prevent the wizard from becoming a monster. The energy pouring into the wizard's wand forced an ethereal white glow from it's tip, a strand of smoke snaked it's way towards the ceiling. He turned to the boy.

-You are an abomination, he snarled in a voice so quiet he wasn't sure if it was heard. This child wanted to fight. To bring experiences to life as a, as a distraction?! He got what he came here for.

The energy unleashed from the dark wood wand left in a defening crack which resonated throughout the castle.

[BlackGhostofSeaside]

Julius was alarmed by his own abilities - he had been able to alter the scenery of the arena all together!

A crowded street, an apparent mob. It surprised Julius, but at the same time made him want to smirk - he indeed was powerful... Julius was alarmed though when an arrow-like light flashed by. Julius was able to dodge... mostly. Soon enough his cheek was bleeding quite badly. Red blood dripped from his cheek, to his jaw, to the dusty dirt ground. Julius growled and deactivated his eye's power, shutting off the ability.

And they were right back in the castle.

Julius gave the man across from him, with his hair quite standing and eyes screaming murder, with a cold glare. Julius tugged his lips together and pulled his bow and arrow out, already out of options for his powers. He pulled the arrow back and after a glance blindly shot. Then he blindly lowered the bow and lifted his hand to his throbbing cheek.

Crap! I've gotta concentrate better. Any moment now another attack could come my way - and I'm holding my freaking cheek...

With one eye half closed, Julius waited in the cold, dark room for his opponent's move within this inner night. Would he dodge the arrow? And what would come after that?