The smell of salt and fish filled the air as Jack stepped off a simple fisherman's vessel, pouring a few coins into the outstretched hands of an old man clinking together softly as they hit his palm. "Thank you kindly..." the man muttered, shaking slightly in the cold sea breeze. Winter was coming and soon and many people were struggling to gather up supplies for what seemed to be a long, harsh season. All around the two the docks seemed to be filled with activity, sailors and fishermen coming in and out of the bay, loading and offloading goods. Hauls of fresh fish were dumped into small carts and wheeled off to local mongers to be hawked off to the masses. The sun struggled to shine through the thick veil of gray clouds looming overhead, and already the residents of the town were donning coats to counter the climate.

Meanwhile Jack remained indifferent to the weather, wind gusted against his skin and he could feel its presence. He did not feel it's cold bite that would send shivers down another mans body however. As he parted ways with his ride wordlessly Jack strode through the town quickly, ignoring the activity around him. He wasn't interesting in the hurried cries of vendors, the songs of street performers, the smells of baked goods sitting out to cool. He couldn't give a rats ass about the town, in fact. He was here for one thing only, the Citadel.

In his line of work as a mercenary, death was a very real and constant threat. In the Citadel Ai'Brone monks practiced incredible magic that could allow two contestants to face of in mortal combat in any arena they could imagine and emerge unscathed. It was the ultimate form of training, if not pricey. With the changing of the seasons Jack would need to take more and more perilous jobs in order to make ends meet. Thus in order to evade the cold clutches of death he would need to get stronger, and the Citadel was the perfect place for it.

He found himself climbing a large set of stone stairs that led to a large set of wooden doors that served as the portal into the ornate building that seemed equal parts chapel and fortress. Everywhere he looked he found either grizzled looking fighters or men cloaked in brown robes that obscured almost all of their features. Finally he found himself standing in a large lobby devoid of furnishings save a large desk where an ancient looking man stood cloaked in brown. Scowling, Jack strode forward and cleared his throat.

"I would like to partake in a fight." He grunted. The monk nodded, and wordlessly scrawled something down in a comically large tome before him before gesturing him to follow as he began down a long, simple hallway filled with ornate wooden doors on either side of them. The two seemed to walk what felt for an abnormal amount of time before the monk stopped and gestured to the door.

"You are the first to enter the room." He stated simply. "Thus you choose the arena." Confused Jack opened the door to find the portal to be pitch black. He had never started the fight. "Simply think about where you want to fight." The monk stated bowing and backing away.

Jack too a deep breath and stepped through to enter, nothing. The room seemed like an endless void of nothing, pitch darkness without bounds or limits. There was no floor to speak of, his feet felt contact, but only the faint illusion of it, as if the shadows had formed a light shell for him to stand on ready to collapse under his weight any moment. He felt himself shiver involuntarily, and that worried him more than the boundless nothingness.

"Where do I want to fight?" He asked the darkness as he strode forward. The darkness replied with silence as the mercenary paced backand forth. "I have the home field advantage..." he mused, his words flowing off of his lips in a fog. "I might as well use it." he finished as he closed his eyes. He could sense the room around him as it changed around him. When he opened his eyes there was nothing but and endless sheet of ice and white sky save the door. A howling wind tore through the room as grin slid across his pale lips. Just the way he liked it.