An unexpected confrontation

Julian kept his eyes on Izel as the two of them dressed. Well, Izel only had one article of clothing to wear as opposed to Julian’s pants, undergarments, shirt, and coat, but she was taking her sweet time putting her thin green dress on.

The dark-skinned Tenlani woman was currently dragging her dress up her impossibly thick thighs. Her large, plump rear jiggled as she swayed her hips back and forth. She hummed a pleasant tune he didn’t recognize, seemingly oblivious or uncaring of his staring. Or maybe her goal was to tease him; to entice him to tell her to take her thin green garment off again so he could have his way with her on the bed.

His manhood throbbed heavily in his pants, ready for action like it always had been, but with few takers before today. A few of the men his age had suggested that he go to the city and buy a whore to practice the sexual arts so that when he met a woman he wanted to keep, he could please her. One night, he had gone to the city and ventured to the areas of the city where whoredom was rampant.

The women there had leveled their gazes at him, taking in the worth of what he wore and the confidence with which he carried himself. Their beckoning voices had been soft, as had their bodies. But their eyes were what had caught his interest the most. They were almost bored, worn by years spent in their profession, where lovemaking was a job instead of a passion. He knew then that he didn’t want his first time to be with a woman who valued only his money and counted the seconds until she could be rid of him.

He continued to stare at Izel as she pretended to fumble with her dress. Her large, plump rear jiggled as she shook her hips. Her large breasts swayed from side to side as she continued humming that strange song of hers. Where had it originated? Was it from Tenlan? He had never sampled Tenlani music before, but now he found himself wanting to.

“You like watching me, Julian?” she said suddenly. She didn’t turn to look at him, but he had a feeling she was smiling.

He swallowed.

I’ve heard people call Izel a whore more than once, but would a whore care if I stared at her or not? Would a whore delight in teasing me after we had already done the deed?

“You know I do,” he saw no reason to lie to her, to deny what he felt. “But I think a better question would be: do you enjoy showing off your body to me?”

Izel chuckled softly, her soft body wiggling with amusement. She stopped fumbling with her dress and slid it on fully before turning to face him. Her amber eyes glimmered enigmatically as they met his stormy grays.

“Maybe,” she said. There was the slightest upward twitch of her plush lips. The two of them stared at each other for what felt like an eternity.

“So, have you managed to figure out how you're going to explain to your family why we're together now?” Izel said, crossing her arms under her breasts and pushing them upward so that they almost burst out of her dress’s neckline.

Julian frowned.

“What do you mean?”

Izel’s slight smile widened into a full smirk.

“Well, when you used your mind **** abilities to turn me into your ****, you must have known that people would have questions as to why you were spending your nights with me. Or did you think no one would ever figure out what you do with your time? Surely, you can't expect the Imerdan household to approve of you bringing home a commoner woman they barely know.”

She’s right. I haven’t really thought about how I’m going to explain my sudden closeness with Izel to the rest of my family. Not to mention all the people Izel knows throughout the city. Someone is going to find out we've been together. It's only a matter of time.

“No, actually. I guess I never really considered how I’d explain the two of us being together. Did you have something in mind?”

Izel’s smile widened dangerously, and he had a feeling that he’d steered the conversation exactly where Izel had wanted it to go.

“As far as Aemar goes, it's not unusual for the unmarried men in noble families have casual encounters with women of... hm. How should I put it? Women of lower station? Yes, women of lower station. It’s widespread enough that most will look the other way rather than make a big fuss about it. What I propose is that you tell anyone who asks about us that what we have is a casual fling. I'm your consort and nothing more. They won't ask too many questions about to the nature of our relationship because nobles hate it when the unsavory elements of their lives are brought out of the shadows.”

She whispered her last word, and for a moment Julian thought he saw Izel’s own shadow flicker slightly, like a tree branch buffeted by a gust of wind.

He shivered, but he was **** to acknowledge that she may well be right. Much as he wanted Izel on his arm and to show everyone the beauty he now possessed for himself, his family would never allow them a formal union. Not without forcing him to give up his noble heritage.

Though, I might be able to make my family more accepting of our union with a liberal application of Suggestion and Hypnosis. Mother and Father are the biggest, most important obstacles, however, and while I don’t have any idea of what my father’s mental defenses are like, they are probably at least as strong as my mother’s. It’s a small miracle I was even able to implant a small Suggestion in her mind. I can't imagine how difficult it would be to have her accept Izel as a partner for me.

While he would normally balk at acceding to his family’s demands, he had something that he didn't before. He at last had attained a class of his own. Could he really destroy his one chance to be accepted by them? As much as he wanted to deny it, he'd always imagined his mother, father, and sisters all looking at him with approval and affection. He smiled softly.

It wasn’t like he would have to stop seeing Izel if he stayed with his family. Actually, he would be able to see her quite often as long as his family knew the reason and the nature of their relationship; that she was a mere consort, not someone he ever intended to formally wed. They would caution him to keep things quiet and ensure no offspring bore fruit from their union, but those could be accomplished with relative ease.

“You don’t mind being seen as a consort to some spoiled noble boy?” he asked.

Izel gave him a wry smirk.

“Please. Have I ever struck you as someone who cares what others think?"

He snorted.

“That's a good point,” he said. She ginned at him, showing perfectly white teeth.

“Mhm. Oh, I just realized. Since I’m going to be your consort, you’ll have to buy me a plethora of expensive clothes. You wouldn’t want me to not look the part, would you? People might become suspicious. Some might even start to question your manhood, especially the noblewomen. We wouldn't want that, would we?”

Julian sighed.

“You can’t be serious.”

Izel chuckled. She walked over to him slowly, swaying her wide hips deliberately. He looked her up and down, tracing her soft, generous curves. Her wide hips that teased at her large, plump rear. Her big breasts, dark and soft, were barely concealed by her dress. It was hard to believe that less than hour ago, he’d been fucking her and even harder to believe that she’d enjoyed it. But she had. His psionic manipulation of her mind had made it impossible for her not to.

She poked his chest with her right index finger and looked up at him. Her amber eyes brimmed with amusement.

“I can. I just choose not to a good deal of the time. Besides, weren’t you the one who wanted me to take life more seriously?” she smiled as she threw his own words back at him.

He stared at her for a long moment before chuckling.

“I guess I set myself up for that one, didn’t I? Fine. You’ll get your clothes. Dresses. Whatever you want, within reason. But on one condition.”

She quirked an eyebrow.

“Really? Let’s hear it.”

He moved his hands to her waist and squeezed softly.

“Anytime I buy you a new dress, or any sort of clothing really, if I want you have to try it on and pose for me, no matter what it is. Otherwise, you'll have to spend your own money if you want to indulge yourself.”

She raised both her eyebrows this time. Her plush lips curved upwards again.

“I see. You drive a hard bargain. Very well. I’ll pose for you whenever you want. A proper consort would probably do that anyway. But you had better purchase me some extravagant outfits. If it's all skimpy sex-ware, I'm going to be disappointed.”

Julian deliberately avoided bringing up exactly how skimpy Izel's current dress was.

“It’s a deal, then,” he whispered. He leaned down toward her. Izel closed her eyes and tilted her head upwards to meet his lips with her own. They were soft and warm. They moved against his lips slowly, intimately. He lowered his hands to her ass, grabbing a handful of each asscheek and squeezing. She moaned into his mouth and deepened the kiss. She opened her mouth, and within moments their tongues were dueling each other for supremacy. Just when Julian thought he’d gotten the upper hand, he heard a knock on the door.

They broke their kiss. Izel’s amber eyes gazed at him intensely for a few seconds before she narrowed them and turned to face the door. She crossed her arms and gave the door an irritated look.

Who could possibly be knocking on our door right now? We’re all paid up for the night.

“Who is it?” he said loudly.

Something shifted on the other side of the door, the wood floor creaking under the weight of someone.

“Housekeeping,” a light, vaguely masculine voice spoke through the door.

He glanced at Izel.

“Are you about ready to leave?” he asked.

She blinked, and then stared at him expectantly. She put a hand on her hip and quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Oh. Right. You have my permission to leave this room,” he said.

Izel rolled her eyes. He was surprised she wasn’t angry at all at the power games he’d played with her. Even though he’d made her more accepting of it under Hypnosis, it was still strange to see her so compliant while not harboring a grudge.

“Thank the gods you gave me permission. Have I ever told you how much I hate being confined to small places with no means of escape?” she said. Her eyes stared into his. For a moment he thought he glimpsed something painful within her gaze. Shame welled up in his stomach like an active volcano spewing lava beneath the ocean.

He shook his head.

“Sorry,” he said. “I promise I won’t confine you anywhere again.”

Her gaze softened slightly. Grasping his hand in hers, she said, “Let’s go. I know a good Tenlani food place nearby if you fancy expanding your taste pallet.”

He smiled.

“Hm. I’ve never tried Tenlani food, but if it’s anything like this one Tenlani woman I know, it’ll be rough on the outside, but sweet on the inside. I can’t wait to try it.”

Izel glared at him. She leaned forward slightly, drawing Julian’s eyes to her cleavage. Izel’s lips quirked upward slightly.

“I resent that. I’m not rough just on the outside. I’m prickly and unapproachable, way down to the core of my being. The only reason you’ve got me here talking to you like this is because you cheated with your mental hocus pocus.”

“Ouch. So, does that mean you won’t take me to the Tenlani place you had picked out?”

She shook her head.

“No, we’re going,” she squeezed his hand. “It won’t do for you to have the wrong idea about my people’s cuisine. You’ll see what I mean when you sample it for yourself. You won’t be able to eat that dreck you Aemari call ‘food’ ever again.”

Julian’s gray eyes narrowed in challenge.

“It's funny you'd say that. I seem to recall that just a few hours ago you enjoyed a perfectly nice, creamy bowl of potato soup. You shouldn’t lie, Izel. It’s really unbecoming.”

Izel merely shrugged.

“I was mostly pretending. Men like you need the approval of women to feel good about yourselves, so I did you a small favor. Also, the soup was free to me at least. There are few spices more flavorful than being fed at no cost,” she patted her stomach for emphasis.

Julian shook his head.

“Whatever. Sometime soon, I’ll take you to one of my favorite places in the city. Then we’ll see which culture really does have the best cuisine.”

Izel’s eyes twinkled delightfully, and for a moment Julian found himself getting lost in them.

Gods, I really am hopeless.

Another series of knocks sounded from the door. They were more rapid now, conveying a sense of urgency.

“Housekeeping,” the soft voice said again, but there was something in his voice that Julian didn’t like.

He shook his head.

No matter. We’ll clear out for the time being and return after we’re well and truly full from that Tenlani restaurant Izel seems so sure will make me hate the food I’d grown up with.

Izel in tow, he walked over to the door.

“You have everything?” he said quietly.

She nodded and asked the same of him.

With his free hand, he felt the pockets of his coat. The shapes of the dagger and coinpouch were oddly refreshing to his fingers. He nodded back. Confident, he unlocked the door and opened it, revealing a corpulent man who looked like a younger version of the innkeeper.

“Hn. Good afternoon,” the man walked into the room without so much as an invitation. He was followed by another man who looked just like him, with dark hair and rat-like black eyes. They roved over him like a predator’s would its next meal.

They seemed to dismiss him, moving to surround Izel.

Izel narrowed her eyes dangerously. Her shadow flickered and shuddered beneath her.

“Stay close to me,” she whispered urgently, pulling him further into the room.

Another form occupied the doorway. Julian’s eyes widened with recognition.

The innkeeper who had so cheerfully served him stood in front of their way out. His large body blocked the doorway. All the cheer and eagerness to serve he’d expressed earlier was absent from him now.

In his right hand, he held a long, ornate steel sword. It looked old, with scrapes and chips along the jeweled hilt. The blade looked strong, tempered from age and continuous use.

The innkeeper raised it in front of him, allowing the light from the window to glance off of it.

What in the name of the gods is going on?

The dagger seemed to grow heavier in his coat, as if to draw his attention.

“If you’re here to rob us, I should warn you that I have very little coin on me."

The innkeeper smiled widely, showing inhumanly sharp teeth. His tongue danced along his teeth and he inhaled deeply. His skin seemed to tremble and writhe, as if something underneath were moving.

His skin settled after a moment, and then he spoke.

“Oh, I’m not here to rob you, human. And I’m not interested in your money. If money were what I desired, I would not have settled into a life as a humble innkeeper,” his dark, beady eyes flicked over to Izel. They trailed over her body, glowing with a greed so sickening it took Julian everything he had not to lash out with a Psi-Bolt. “Forgive my poor manners. I don’t think I’ve introduced myself. I’m Valda and those two handsome men surrounding you are my sons – Jakrim and Vern. Be polite and greet our guests, boys.”

“Hello,” Valda’s sons whispered in unison. There was an odd, unnaturally deep cadence to their voice, as if their vocal chords were fashioned from something other than human flesh.

Jakrim dragged a small wooden stick from his pocket. Purplish runes glowed along the shaft.

A wand. He must be one of the more esoteric magic classes that benefits from the more precise foci. Were he an Elementalist, he’d almost certainly be carrying a staff to take advantage of the power boost. This could be troublesome. I’ll target him first with Mind Jab, if the idiots really do fancy a fight.

The thought whispered coolly over his mind. He felt a pit open in his stomach. He reached for Focus. It lingered just beyond the reach of his mind, as if waiting for something.

Of course. Focus is only usable during combat. But what qualifies as combat? The way these three have surrounded us, it seems inevitable that they’ll strike. I'd ask what they want from us, but the way they're looking at Izel's body would seem to confirm their intentions.

He gritted his teeth.

I won't let them touch her.

As much as he wanted to use Focus, he wasn't able to trigger it quite yet. It seemed he would have actually be fighting the three intruders for it to work. He held onto it like a swordsman would the hilt of a blade strapped to his waist. He didn’t know why he knew, but for some reason he couldn’t help but feel that the moment he was attacked or moved to attack, Focus would answer his call.

The thought comforted him somewhat.

How much WP do I have? Status.

Julian Imerdan (lv. 5 Psion)

HP: 115/115

ST: 98/102

WP: 277/441

Skills...

Attributes…

Effects…

277. Definitely not ideal, especially when I don’t have a complete picture of what these three are capable of, but I’ll be able to shoot off the Mind Jab/Psi-Bolt damage combination... thirteen times with my current WP level. I’ve no idea how destructive that is, but if Mind Jab is really as painful as the giant rats make it seem, it might be enough to take down one or two of them for a few moments. Long enough to kill one of them as long as Izel provides a good enough distraction that I don’t get blindsided by an attack.

Vern followed his brother’s lead and produced a bastard sword. It did not look to be made of metal, but rather something pale, almost bonelike. It seemed sharp nonetheless. He held it confidently in his grip, with far more grace than his father did his own oversized sword.

No shield or heavy armor? Probably not a Knight, then. A Swordsman, perhaps? Or maybe he isn’t classed at all? Hm. Somehow I doubt I’m that lucky. I’ll keep my distance from him. It’s his brother who poses the biggest threat, after the father of course.

He glared at the innkeeper.

“Nice to meet you all. I’m Julian. Julian Imerdan. Perhaps you’ve heard of my family?”

A flicker of recognition crossed Valda’s eyes before he hardened his features.

Julian suppressed a smirk.

“That’s right. I’m of noble blood. So whatever you are planning, Valda, I can assure you that dropping your weapons and allowing us to leave would be your best course of action. Otherwise, I might not be able to stop my family from having you all drawn and quartered in the Silver District. And that's after they **** you so thoroughly that you beg for ****."

Izel raised her eyebrows approvingly.

One of the brothers, Jakrim, snorted.

“He’s lying. I can smell fear from him, Father. He’ll say anything to save his own life.”

Izel chuckled, even as her shadow continued to twist and writhe and the ground beneath her. Julian was surprised that the intruders hadn’t noticed.

“What about me? Do I smell of fear, you pathetic little worm?”

Jakrim smiled.

“You smell of ****, like the Tenlani Necromancers of old. You are who we are looking for.”

Izel’s smile faded almost immediately. Her shadow twisted again. Then it flickered and pulsed.

Why isn't she denying it? Whatever. If Izel won't try to convince these fools she isn't breaking one of Aemar's strictest laws, I will.

“What’s the meaning of this? Izel isn’t a Necromancer and even if she were, you have no way of proving that she is. You can't say she's a Necromancer just because she's from Tenlan,” Julian said.

Valda took a step forward.

“Naïve fool,” he spoke the word in a deep, inhuman tone which oscillated back to something slightly more human as he continued speaking. “Meaning. Such a funny word. Ask your Tenlani woman what the meaning was of her people slaughtering mine. Ask her what the meaning was of our bodies being resurrected as weapons to prosecute a war Tenlan ended up losing anyway,” he took another step into the room. “There is no meaning in this world, my boy. There is only predator and prey. We were prey for the Tenlani once. Never again.”

Izel’s eyes widened. A portion of her shadow seemed to leap into her hands, coating her fingers inky black.

“You’re an Amyss,” she murmured, narrowing her eyes. “And here I thought your kind were destroyed in the war. I can't help but feel disappointed.”

Amyss? I feel like I've heard that name before. I think it was mentioned in one of the books I'd read about Tenlan's history.

The innkeeper glared at her.

“I used to think the same of Tenlani Necromancers until one of them wandered so willingly into my humble abode. Why don’t you stay a while? Our hospitality is to die for.”

Valda’s hand clenched around his sword hilt. The metal whined in protest.

Julian winced.

He’s strong, but I was able to bend his mind with a Suggestion earlier. Maybe I can make him let us go.

Lower your weapon and allow us to pass by unharmed.

The Suggestion rebounded off of the innkeeper’s mind like a small rock off a metal shield. He hissed as lance of pain speared its way through his head. He clenched his fists, trying to maintain his composure even as rage and frustration bubbled up inside him.

Godsdammit! 20 WP down the drain, for nothing!

Izel cast a worried glance his way. He took a deep breath, calming himself.

_I’m fine, he moved his lips, but didn’t speak. Whatever you’re planning, I’ll follow your lead._

Izel nodded. She turned to face Valda and smiled.

“You know, I’ve always wondered what it was about your kind that made my people exterminate them. Now I know. You’re simply too stupid to live. Gods, I wish I’d been there when my ancestors put yours to the sword. Just to hear the squeals, you know? It would have been so much fun-”

“Bitch!” Valda screamed. He threw his sword forward. The sword sliced heavily through the air almost faster than Julian could see.

Izel smiled viciously. Darkness flashed around her hands, and in its wake were two midnight-black swords that seemed to absorb all the light in the room. She parried Valda’s oversized sword like it weighed nothing redirecting it to the side, but instead of falling to ground like Julian expected, the sword remained in the air.

Valda’s hand remained outstretched. A look of absolute rage dominated his facial features. He slashed his hand through the air. The levitating sword mimicked his movements exactly, recommitting to a focused attack on Izel.

Her now-glowing golden eyes widened slightly with surprise, but she dodged out of the way and closed the distance with Valda, her two swords flashing to parry the flying sword as it attacked her once more.

“Father!” Jakrim cried, raising his glowing wand.

Focus.

A cold calmness settled over him. It wasn’t a sedate calm one might feel after spending a day in warmth and comfort. No, this calm was like if his heart had been submerged in ice. His breathing slowed, as did his perception of the world around him.

He saw Jakrim open his mouth to as if to speak. His bloated body glowed slightly with eldritch violet energy. Vern was in the process of raising his sword. His black eyes were completely focused on Izel.

Don’t forget about me. Mind Jab. Mind Jab.

Two red bursts of psychic energy flew from his hands. They whistled through the air and struck true, sending Jakrim and Vern screaming to the floor. They clawed at their heads, something underneath their skin writhing uselessly, like wild animals that had just been captured and placed into a very small cage.

He glared down at Jakrim and stretched his hand forward.

Like Braknar said: always watch out for cheating mages. Psi-Bolt.

A smaller, more brightly colored bolt of reddish energy leapt from his fingertips faster than he'd ever seen Mind Jab move. It smashed into Jakrim’s skull, silencing his screams with a sickening squelch. His beady dark eyes grew blacker still. A black fluid spewed from his nose and ears. He slumped against the floor, silent and dead to the world. Black liquid pooled on the floor beneath him.

I killed him? That... that's all it takes?

Focus escaped his grip. His body trembled. He felt cold, but not the comforting sort of cold that came with Focus.

I just killed a man. A sentient being.

He didn't know how to feel about that, but he heard the presence sigh contentedly, as if it had gorged itself on a hearty meal. He shivered.

“Hrrgh!” Vern hefted himself to his feet. His black eyes were wide and mad. He stared down at his brother for what seemed like an eternity. He turned to focus his eyes on Julian. His mouth opened, and Julian stared at his inhumanly sharp teeth. There were rows of them in his mouth that seemed to travel all the way to the back of his mouth. He let out an inhuman screech and lifted a hand. The pale skin of Vern’s palm trembled and broke, opening to reveal another mouth lined with more teeth than Julian had ever seen.

Not human. Not human at all.

The hand flashed forward.

Focus.

Time slowed again and his fear and anguish melted away.

Small, sharp, pale-white objects flickered in the air. They sped towards his chest.

Bones? Bone knives? He’s launched them from his hand somehow, but where did they come from? Inside his body? They look like smaller versions of his bastard sword.

There were nearly a dozen of them, traveling faster than he might have been able to perceive had he not been under the influence of Focus. Braknar's training seized him immediately. He turned, dodging out of the way at the last possible second. He heard impact sounds as the small, sharp knives pierced into the wooden wall behind where he’d been moments earlier.

Vern was on him before he could recover. His bastard sword slashed and stabbed and flickered almost as fast as Julian could react.

He dodged and weaved, almost automatically, his grip on Focus pulling him out of the way as he held on to the Skill like his life depended on it.

Mind Jab.

The bright flash of crimson energy left his hand, but Vern dodged out of the way and quickly recommitted to his ****.

“Just die already, you pathetic little human coward!” his attacker screamed in frustration. His sword slashed again. Julian dodged.

He felt something slam into his left shoulder, staggering him backwards.

He glanced down.

A pale-white bone knife protruded from his coat. The four-or-five inch blade had sunk into his flesh up to the hilt. Warm blood trickled down his chest.

He could dimly sense the pain he would have felt as his senses attempted to warn him that there was in fact a small bladed object embedded in his body. He tested out his arm, and felt the nerves scream again in protest, but the limb seemed fully functional otherwise.

Focus.

Cold settled over him far more deeply than it had before. The anguished protests of his arm and shoulder died quickly.

I can’t hit him with Mind Jab. It’s too slow. Psi-Bolt travels faster. I might not be able to kill him with it, but it may at least unbalance him long enough for me to make something happen. Psi-Bolt.

A bright red bolt of pure psionic energy smacked into Vern’s body, eliciting a grunt of pain from him, but he continued attacking as if he hadn't been injured.

I should have done that earlier, when the both of them were suffering from Mind Jab. I could have killed him and come to Izel’s aid.

Vern’s sword flickered again, followed by another barrage of flying bone-knives.

Julian dodged again, and moved his gaze for but a moment to see how his new lover was faring in her fight.

Izel’s form was practically a blur as she dueled with Valda’s oversized sword. The innkeeper had barely moved from where he’d been at the start of the fight. Only his arm moved, twisting and slashing in tune with his sword, a look of intense concentration and hate on his face. He reached to his side with his other hand. A ball of twisting air formed in the palm of his hand. He pushed it outward, producing a cone of **** that sent Izel skidding back into the bed they’d shared earlier, smashing the wooden frame into splinters.

He slashed with his levitating sword in a killing blow, but Izel recovered quickly, meeting the sword one of her own. Shadowy black sparks rippled where both blades met. Her other sword shifted slightly, becoming more thin. She twisted her hand and pushed. Her dark shadow-sword levitated into the air and began spinning. It elongated into a midnight-black spear.

Izel parried another strike from Valda’s sword and thrust her other hand forward. Her shadow-spear whistled through the air faster than even Valda’s sword, spiraling towards the inhuman innkeeper’s head.

The dark-haired man’s eyes widened. He dodged, but the spear managed to graze the side of his cheek before slamming into the wall behind him. It melted and was soon absorbed into a nearby shadow. Moments later, another shadow-sword formed in Izel’s hand.

Incredible.

Vern’s sword flickered towards him again. Julian dodged and fired off a salvo of five Psi-Bolts. Vern managed to dodge two, but the others struck true. They impacted his chest and left arm, doing seemingly little damage.

Dammit.

Julian backed up to avoid another swing of Vern's sword. It cut a long, shallow gash across his chest. He tried to move further, but his back collided with the translucent window at the end of the room.

Vern smiled viciously, knowing his prey had been cornered. He lifted his sword to deliver a killing blow when something black and pointy suddenly erupted from his chest.

Julian and Vern stared at each other before glancing at the black, oily shadow-spear that had skewered his chest.

In the distance, he caught a smile and wink from Izel. Valda took advantage of the momentary distraction and unleashed another blast of **** which slammed Izel against the wooden wall. It broke around her body, sending her flying into the next room. Valda grinned triumphantly and flung his sword after her.

No! Izel!

Julian glared hatefully at Vern. The young man was still giving the spear in his chest a stunned look. It melted away in a flash, leaving a gaping wound in his chest.

I can't let him live and chance him trying to kill me again. Mind Jab!

The red burst of psychic energy struck true, smashing into his opponent’s skull. It was enough to wake him from his stunned stupor. He wailed an inhuman roar and flailed his arms wildly. Bone-knives were flung through the air every which way, thudding as they collided into the walls and floor.

Julian dodged them as best he could, but he felt one impact his right thigh, piercing his leg muscle. He staggered and almost fell, but the calm cold of Focus kept him standing.

Psi-Bolt.

Vern didn’t attempt to evade it, and it impacted his skull with a wet thud. His eyes exploded with a loud 'schick', replaced by deep twin pools of dark black blood. He fell to the floor with a crash, splintering a wooden chair on his way down. He stopped moving as soon as he hit the floor. Black blood gushed freely from his now-empty eye sockets as well as his ears and nose.

“You!” a voice screamed. Valda approached him purposefully, his sword conspicuously absent. His beady, inhuman black eyes stared at Vern's corpse before refocusing on Julian. “You killed my sons! Now you die!”

Julian barely had a chance to react as Valda pushed his hands forward. A field of transparent energy rippled through the air and slammed into him with the power of a Tyrai hurricane, lifting him off his feet and propelling him through the glass window beyond.

As glass shattered soundlessly around him, he thought he heard Izel scream his name.

---

Julian Imerdan (lv. 6 Psion)

HP: 65/127

ST: 25/110

WP: 159/445

Skills...

<New Skill Discovered>

<Two Skill Points Available>

Attributes…

Effects…

Julian's Skills

[Manipulation] Suggestion (cost: 20 WP) - The user can telepathically implant a suggestion in the mind of a target to influence an action, thought, or behavior of theirs. The target must be sapient. There is a chance that it might fail depending on the state of the target mind. The more simple and less unusual the suggestion, the easier it is to implant.

[Manipulation] Hypnosis (cost: 30 WP) - The user lulls the target into a light hypnotic trance. While hypnotized, the target will be more open to Suggestion and suggestions, and more likely to divulge information they would not otherwise. Requires the use of a pendant or other foci to draw the target’s gaze. Can be interrupted by any sudden or intense stimuli. Duration: ten minutes.

[Affliction] Mind Jab (cost: 15 WP) - The user projects a weak bolt of psionic energy that attacks the mind of an opponent, causing crippling mental pain that lasts for a few seconds. Affects any living creature with a brain.

[Affliction] Psi-Bolt (cost: 5 WP) – The user emits an unguided bolt of psionic energy that inflicts low Psi damage to a target upon impact. Deals moderate Psi damage against targets affected by Mind Jab, but clears them of the status.

[Connection] Detect Mind (cost: 2 WP/s) - The user can detect the minds of sentient organic beings within ten feet.

[Knowledge] Safe Fall (cost: free) - The user has learned a method of shifting one's body mid-air to significantly mitigate falling damage. Only usable from survivable heights.

[Innate] Focus (cost: free) - The user enters a state of emotional detachment, allowing the user to ignore pain and resist negative mental effects. Increases WP regeneration by 20% while active. Only usable during combat.

---

Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/LLation