The next morning, at the Imerdan estate

Meditation was like being wrapped in a particularly stimulating, surreal dream, except Julian’s thoughts were lucid. He knelt in a soundless, expansive white plain surrounded by distant trees that shifted in color seemingly on a whim. From red to white to blue to violet to gold. The sun was blue and the sky was an endless inky black with red stars that twinkled distantly. His hands were folded over his lap.

Mere feet away from Julian, the presence stood. Or knelt. It had appeared mere feet away from of him and stayed with him the entire time he meditated. Cloaked in an impenetrable black fog, the only part of its body he could see were its two glowing red eyes. Those eyes seemed dimmer now, far less intense and malicious than they were usually. There was something oddly familiar about it, like a figment of a half-remembered dream from his childhood. He'd tried talking to it, but found that he couldn't. Sound didn't exist here. He'd tried thinking at it, and it had given him a reproachful glare, and he felt as if one of his parents were scolding him. Chagrined, he decided it would be best not to bother the thing. It was smaller than he remembered it, and for a moment he couldn't help but imagine that it was meditating, like him.

Eventually, the novelty of the presence's closeness wore off and Julian's thoughts shifted to what he’d experienced earlier in the day. He replayed both fights with Valda multiple times, trying to determine what he could have done differently. Gaps in his enemies’ defenses that he hadn’t noticed before.

What is it they say, that everything seems obvious in hindsight?

He cringed when he remembered having to go on the defensive, dodging Vern’s sword until he’d been trapped against the wall in the room he’d rented. Izel had had to save him. If she hadn’t intervened when she did, he would have died.

I'm still so weak. I can’t afford to make mistakes like that again. I need to train harder, level up, and become more powerful. I cannot rely on anyone but myself and Izel.

If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost hear the steady sound of her breathing. Or at least, an echo of it. Perhaps a memory. He felt the world shake slightly around him, but the presence didn't seem disturbed so he kept thinking about Izel. He pictured her in front of him, an impish smile twisting at her lips. He felt a flash of affection for her. Despite his confession to her, he didn't truly believe in love in the traditional sense. Love was a fairytale. Something people assured themselves was real in order to pretend that those around them actually cared about them. That they would be remembered when they were gone and not discarded like trash.

Izel can never truly love me, and not just because love isn't real. I manipulated her mind, used her against her will. If she managed to free herself, she would kill me instantly and be right to.

He was surprised by how calm he was at the realization.

Nethrus said I can trust Izel, but I felt him in my mind. He saw me take control of Izel. Why would he feel the need to say something so obvious; that I can trust someone who could not betray me even if she wanted to?

He chewed on that thought for a few hours. Or perhaps it was a few minutes. Time passed by differently while he was meditating, and because of that he was certain that he could not accurately perceive things that happened outside his mindscape.

Julian knew he could leave his meditative state any time he wanted just as easily as breathing. He had done so at multiple points during the night. It was difficult to get a sense of how much time had passed while he meditated. Back in the mending ward, he had been unprepared for what Meditation entailed, swayed by Knowledge's influence, an urge that had been stronger than any compulsion he had ever felt. He had meditated for hours without realizing it, an entire segment of time gone in a blink. Now, he thought he had a better handle on it. He could actually think while he meditated now, which was a vast improvement to what he had experienced before.

The world around him shook again, more violently this time, toppling him to the ground. The presence remained where it was, unaffected. Its red eyes were closed.

Alright, I think something may actually be going on outside.

With a thought, he deactivated Meditation. He blinked as light from the flickering mana torches entered his eyes.

"Wake up!" Izel hissed. Her hands gripped his shoulders, her amber eyes staring into his.

He groaned. "Alright, alright. I'm awake."

Izel released him, her face relaxing slightly.

"Took you long enough. I've been trying to get you up for almost a whole minute, but you wouldn't budge! Nethrus, you sleep like the dead!"

The first time everything shook while I was meditating, was that from Izel trying to 'wake' me up?

He pinched his nose, and was surprised by how clear and sharp his thoughts were. He felt fully rested despite not sleeping for a single minute the entire night.

"Sorry. Is something the matter?"

She hummed, and tilted her head in the direction of the doorway. As if to reinforce her point, someone rapped on the wooden door.

“I think the servant you spoke to last night is here,” Izel murmured softly. "I imagine she's here to bring you breakfast."

Julian raised his eyebrows.

“Ebbeth? How could you tell?” he said.

Izel’s beautiful eyes glowed with amusement.

“You mean, aside from the fact that she promised she’d be here?” she replied with a smirk. She kissed his chest. Her next words came out in a low murmur. “I saw the way she looked at you, last night. The woman’s more eager to please than most servants I’ve seen. Nethrus knows why. Back home, servants are taught to fear, not love their masters."

"That sounds unnecessarily cruel." Julian was not surprised by Izel's admission. Many of the historical tomes he'd read had gone into great detail describing the various brutalities committed by the Tenlani ruling class. Often during the Wars of the Dead, entire populations of classless would be slaughtered so Tenlani lords could have more bodies to soak up attacks from Aemari soldiers. Any civilization that could do that so casually during times of war probably didn't hold its lowest classes in high regard. Since the classless were essentially powerless and could scarcely affect the world on their own, historians had decided that they didn't matter either, and hadn't bothered writing many of their stories.

Izel's face softened, though Julian thought he glimpsed a flicker of anger in her amber eyes.

"That's because it is," she whispered.

There was another series of knocks against his door.

"My lord? May I come in? I'm here with your breakfast." That was Ebbeth's voice. Julian felt his lips curve upwards. She’d cared for him since he was very young, and was one of the few people who always had a kind word for him. She wasn’t the most beautiful woman, but he’d always fantasized about her. Her large, hefty breasts that always seemed too big for whatever outfit she wore and her wide, matronly rear that swayed and jiggled as she walked.

And now she serves me to the exclusion of all else, thanks to a single Suggestion. It shouldn’t have been that easy, both for her to submit and for me to even attempt to gain her submission, but it seems as though I can always find a rationalization for using my mental abilities on someone, violating their Will. And Ebbeth... she should have been so utterly loyal to my parents to at least have provided some resistance to the Suggestion, yet she'd folded instantly. Why?

Movement from elsewhere in the room drew their attention to Petra. The blonde Pugilist’s eyes were open, her sclera bloodshot. She rubbed the sides of her temples. Her head was propped up against the wall beneath one of his windows. It was still dark outside, but he could feel the coming of morning like an imminent rainstorm.

"Can you two keep it down? I already have a massive headache from lack of sleep. Thanks for that, by the way," Petra growled lowly, but there was little heat to it. She eyed Julian's bed longingly, and he couldn't help but imagine she was wondering how easy it would be to knock the two of them out and take the bed for herself.

Izel propped herself up with her hands, pushing out her substantial bust.

"Oh Petra. It's not our fault you were too prideful and stubborn to accept Julian's offer of a pillow and warm blanket," she said nonchalantly.

Gods, Izel really loves antagonizing her.

Petra’s icy-blue eyes narrowed. They were slightly bloodshot as she glared at the two of them on the bed. Her eyes lingered over Julian for a few moments.

“Ooh, I think she sees something she likes~” Izel teased, smirking at the dusky-skinned girl.

Julian blinked.

Wait, what? No. Petra hates me. She's probably fantasizing about beating me into a pulp, not jumping my bones!

"Izel!" he chided her warningly.

Petra's glare intensified as she ignored him.

“You know nothing about me, Tenlani,” she growled, her eyes narrowed into icy slits. "But I would be happy to educate you, should our lord allow it."

Julian sat up.

"Okay, enough. Both of you. Ebbeth's here, so why don't we just enjoy breakfast and let bygones be bygones?"

The two women glared at each other. Well, Petra glared. Izel seemed amused, like she was observing a particularly rambunctious dog struggling against its leash. Finally, Petra relaxed, slumping against the wall. Izel was content to rest her body against his, and he was keenly aware of her big breasts squishing up against his chest.

The rapping on his door began again, slightly more urgently, dispelling the intensity of the moment.

Julian muttered a curse at himself for not allowing Ebbeth to enter.

"Come in, Ebbeth!" he said.

The doorknob twisted, and moments later the door was pushed open revealing Ebbeth Jonworn and two other servants – both were young women with slender bodies – carrying trays. The dishes were covered with metallic lids to prevent heat from escaping. They entered the room gracefully, their plain white-beige dresses swaying as they walked.

They brought breakfast for Petra as well. Good.

Their gazes swept over the room almost clinically, as if trying to determine if anything needed to be cleaned or rearranged. Their eyes passed over Petra and Izel with minimal issue before focusing on Julian.

Ebbeth and the servant girls smiled when they saw him. The two girls blushing slightly, probably a bit flustered by Izel's closeness to him, but enough discipline had been trained into them that they immediately bowed.

“Good morning, Master Julian,” Ebbeth intoned warmly, the hour of the day not dampening her spirit a bit. Her dress clung to her voluptuous body. Her neckline was lower than the girls’, showing off the upper slopes of her breasts. She glanced at the women and inclined her head in acknowledgement. “You are well rested, I hope?”

“I am, thank you,” he replied, still marveling at his own mental clarity despite the lack of sleep.

Which reminds me. I didn’t check to see how many WP I regenerated overnight. Status.

Julian Imerdan (lv. 7 Psion)

HP: 142/142

ST: 119/119

WP: 470/470

Skills...

Attributes…

Effects…

A smile spread across his face.

A full WP pool. You love to see it.

Ebbeth and the two serving girls smiled back at him.

“Did my sisters come home last night?” he asked.

Ebbeth shook her head. “No. Lady Rila is still at the mending ward sleeping off her mana exhaustion, isn’t she? Lady Brynn and Lady Velri are probably still with her.”

Julian frowned.

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised they stayed the night. Mana exhaustion can take a lot out of a magic user, especially one as low level as Rila is. And it’s not like Velri or Brynn has to be up before dawn.

He thought back to his time in Rila’s room, when he’d delivered a Suggestion to Brynn’s mind so she’d feel disgusted whenever she thought of Clevis.

His neck itched.

That was impulsive. Stupid. I probably shouldn’t have done that, in a mending ward no less, but whenever I think about Clevis I can't but feel such rage over what he's done to me!

Julian sighed.

Nothing I can do about it now. Hopefully they’ll come home today and I’ll know how the Suggestion has impacted her. Maybe I can reverse it and implant something much more subtle if the effects are too pronounced.

Izel shifted next to him. Ebbeth blinked, as if noticing her again for the first time. She and the other servants inclined their heads, still holding the trays.

“Lady Izel, Lady Petra,” Ebbeth greeted them with a short bow, her huge tits dangling beneath her.

Izel smiled and nodded back. Petra gave the servants a nod of acknowledgment.

“Good to see you, Ebbeth.” Izel pointed towards the trays with the ease of a woman who was used to giving orders. “Bring those over here, will you? I’m starving.”

Ebbeth nodded. “Right away, my lady.”

As if a silent communication passed between the three women, they moved almost instantly, in sync with each other. One serving girl placed a tray at Julian’s desk and pulled out the wooden chair, glancing at Petra meaningfully. The blonde stood up shakily and dusted herself off, muttering something under her breath that Julian didn’t catch as she sat in his chair.

Julian was distracted when Ebbeth approached his side of the bed, setting her tray down on the bed. The remaining serving girl did the same on Izel’s. The serving girls backed off after that, standing by the door with their hands clasped neatly in front of them, ready to aid if summoned or clean if needed.

At Julian’s desk, Petra had already lifted the lid on her tray and was scarfing up her breakfast with the voraciousness of an orc, moaning appreciatively as she ate and drank.

“I think you will like what the cooks made, Lady Izel,” Ebbeth said proudly. “Though you had better find a way to enjoy it quickly like Lady Petra. Dawn is approaching.”

Curious, Izel lifted the lid on her tray. Her eyes widened. Julian opened the lid on his own tray, and was treated to the sight of dark, thick, juicy bacon-like strips that caused his mouth to water. Next to them was something white that looked like porridge, sprinkled with cinnamon.

“Grilled mishanna and grimmis!” Izel whispered; a hint of wonderment evident in her voice. She leveled a sharp gaze at Ebbeth. “H-how?”

The servant grinned.

“After you and Master Julian expressed interest in tasting a Tenlani dish, I conveyed such to the chefs. Though none are of Tenlani heritage, they are quite learned in the culinary arts and were more than happy to entertain your request. Imerdan chefs are most peculiar. Lady Maela handpicked them personally. From the look on your face, it’s quite easy to see why."

Izel hummed and looked back at the food, a slightly nostalgic look on her face.

“You look almost surprised to see that dish in Aemar. Didn’t you say there were Tenlani restaurants in Rona that you frequented regularly?” Julian said.

Izel glanced at him.

“Yes, there are, and many of them are authentic. Their recipes have been passed down through generations. They wouldn’t be known to anyone except those from Tenlan or those who cared to learn about our culture,” she said offhandedly, and Julian grimaced. He knew he was atypical among his countrymen in that he enjoyed learning about foreign cultures as well as those of the countries conquered and incorporated into the Aemari Empire.

It’s such a shame. For all their brutality and cruelty, the Tenlani were said to have some of the best art and music on the continent, with ornate statues and buildings that scraped the heavens, and songs that could make even the most jaded soul dance with their rhythms. Much of that was destroyed or lost in the Wars of the Dead and the Purges that followed, but some of that creative spirit still remains, even centuries later. I can’t help but wonder what might have been if my people had done more to preserve what needn’t have been destroyed, or if the Tenlani themselves had never tried to conquer Aemar to begin with.

Julian gazed at Izel, marveling at her beauty. Her intelligent amber eyes. Her long, silky hair. Her soft, pink lips. He doubted there would ever be a woman he wanted more than her.

But I don't really have her. Not by choice. I never will. I may been able to bed her eventually had I never manipulated her, but I doubt she would ever have gotten into a relationship with me. I have nothing she would want. No virtues. No lands or riches of my own. Nothing except a desire for power and control, and she would never want to be partners with someone whose ambitiousness mirrored her own. We would never be able to trust each other. Why could Nethrus have thought otherwise?

“That Aemari cooks would even think to make this is just…” Izel shook her head, oblivious to Julian's thoughts. Abruptly, she grabbed her fork and knife and cut a clean slice off one of the strips of meat. She plopped it in her mouth and hummed. She chewed and swallowed and immediately cut off another piece.

Julian swallowed. His thoughts tasted like bile.

“So, is it close enough to being an authentic Tenlani dish?” he asked, pushing amusement into his voice.

Izel shrugged, a disbelieving smile on her face.

“You know what? It just might be,” she conceded, looking surprised at having uttered the words. She continued, “If Aemari in general could mimic our cuisine half as well as this, your food might even be passable. Of course, then it wouldn’t really be ‘your’ food, would it? Just as well, in my book.” She consumed another piece and then immediately went for the porridge-like food. She moaned and swallowed. “Hm. The grimmis is well-prepared too. They must not have had d’riac spice, but cinnamon is a good substitute. This is almost as well-made as in the homeland.”

Her eyes flicked up to Ebbeth, who seemed pleased just watching Izel enjoy her food.

“Give my compliments to your chefs. It’s not often that the food here impresses me, but right now, I am,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically sincere.

Julian allowed himself to smile, glad that she was at least finding ways to enjoy herself. If he was going to bend those around him to his Will, he at least owed it to them to ensure that their enslavement to him was not miserable. Power hungry he may have been, but liked to believe that he was neither capricious nor cruel.

There is no enjoyment to be gained from the suffering of others, unless they deserve it.

Valda's evil, sneering face appeared in his mind.

“I most certainly will, Lady Izel. The cooks will be pleased,” Ebbeth said warmly.

Conscious of his limited time, Julian cut a slice of the meat, mishanna, and ate the piece. He groaned appreciatively, enjoying the sweet meat. It practically melted in his mouth as he chewed and swallowed.

“Wow, that’s actually really good.”

Izel finished another piece and nudged him. “Of course it is. So, are you ready to admit the superiority of Tenlani cuisine?”

Julian chuckled. “Well, it was prepared by Aemari chefs, so is it technically Tenlani cuisine?”

That earned him an angry glare, which only made him laugh.

“Alright, relax. The food’s really good, but I’m not quite ready to give up on Aemari food just yet. This is just one meal, after all,” he said. He tried the grimmis, moaning as he consumed the warm meal. It tasted much like porridge, only it was much richer in flavor than he was used to. “Damn, that’s good. What’s this called, grimmis? I could eat this for breakfast every day.”

Izel grinned. “You and most Tenlani. There may be hope for you yet, Julian.”

The rest of the meal went by quickly, with Julian and Izel cleaning their plates. Petra had finished before them and moved towards the doorway, casting one last glance towards Julian.

"My lord..." she began quietly.

Julian swallowed a mouthful.

"Go get some sleep, Petra. Your punishment is over."

The muscular girl nodded stiffly before quickly leaving the room.

The two serving girls hurriedly cleaned up their trays neatly and efficiently. They left the room, closing the door behind them leaving Julian and Izel alone with Ebbeth.

The older woman’s eyes raked over Julian’s chest. She licked her plush lips, her eyes radiating warmth.

“Do you want help getting dressed, Master Julian?” she said, a bit of eagerness seeping into her tone.

He grinned. His penis stiffened slightly as he imagined Ebbeth’s delicate fingers touching him, her body being close to his. “Sure, if we have time.”

Izel rolled her eyes exasperatedly. “Do Aemari nobles ever do anything themselves?”

“We do,” Julian said as he got out of bed. Ebbeth had already gone into his closet and produced a white, long-sleeved cotton shirt and a pair of rugged black pants. He nodded with approval, but such was a mere formality for servants like Ebbeth who had long since learned to anticipate the wishes and needs of their masters. “But when a servant offers to help her master, sometimes it's about more than just carrying out her duties.”

Ebbeth smiled at that. “It’s true, Lady Izel. I may be a servant, but I take great pride in my work. Caring for a noble family as accomplished and generous as the Imerdans is a dream to many classless with few prospects besides tilling on farms in the baking heat, working in textile factories, or serving as laborers. Or being sent into the mines.”

Ebbeth’s eyes darkened, and Julian nodded with sympathy. The Empire was always hungry for resources, including various ores, including magical ones. Classed miners were a stark rarity, and often sold their stocks at exorbitantly high prices. The only suitable alternative was to send the classless to mine valuable mineral ores down holes dug into the ground above resource-rich lands or on the tops of mountains. Cave-ins were frequent and since most mining companies viewed their classless workforces with somehow greater contempt than Clevis had ever shown, little was done to remedy the various hazards miners came across. He had heard horror stories of mining companies accidentally digging their way into a subterranean monster den, where even the weakest of the horrors that dwelled within could easily slaughter dozens of classless men and women before being felled.

It’s easy to see why Ebbeth has always appreciated her line of work, and has driven herself to excel at it. Maybe we're not so different from the Tenlani in how we treat our servants, when the alternatives to their role are sometimes far worse.

“But never mind that. Let’s get you dressed,” Ebbeth said warmly. He held up his arms almost automatically, and felt every female eye in the room observing him keenly. Ebbeth pulled his shirt over him, smiling as her fingers brushed against his hard torso. She reached lower and undid the button on his pants, sliding them down. He hadn’t been wearing any underwear, and his erect penis sprang into view, nearly hitting Ebbeth in the face. She gaped at him, her eyes transfixed by the organ in front of her. She backed off slightly, her cheeks flushed. “Oh… oh, Master. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know…”

Beside him, Izel grinned.

“Wow. I had no idea the service in Aemar was this good. No wonder the nobles here are so decadent,” the Tenlani japed, her voice brimming with satisfaction. She leaned back on the bed, an amused smile playing at her lips, content to watch for now.

“I-it’s okay, Ebbeth,” Julian said.

Ebbeth shook her head and looked away. “No, it’s not. It is improper.”

A sudden confidence seized him, and he reached down and grasped her chin, making her look up at him. Her warm brown eyes stared into his as she surrendered to his touch. In this position, with her on her knees, he had an amazing view down the top of her dress. Her melon-like boobs were almost entirely visible to him.

He reflexively glanced towards his door. It was still closed, but theoretically any of the serving staff or his mother could walk in at any moment.

I… I can’t afford to be reckless now. Not when Brianna is waiting for me. Pleasure will come later, after today's work is done.

Releasing Ebbeth’s chin, he bent over to grasp his pants and put them on, covering his erection. A brief look of disappointment came across Ebbeth’s features. She shook her head and hurried to his closet, returning with the set of boots he’d worn the day before. He took them from her and put them on.

Meanwhile, Izel had gotten off the bed. She wore a blue shirt that was a couple sizes too big on her. The unbuttoned neckline dropped down almost to the middle of her breasts, and they threatened to tumble free with her every movement. She wore one of his pairs of black training pants. Tailored to Julian’s wiry build, they clung to Izel’s prodigiously thick thighs like a second skin. She’s also pilfered a pair of brown leather sandals from his closet.

He stared at her, thinking that she looked incredibly cute in his clothes. His lips twitched upward as an appealing thought occurred to him.

Izel’s officially my consort. She’ll be expected to live with me, wherever I go, and our property is shared unless I deem otherwise. It’s like an unofficial marriage with far fewer constraints, but much less legal power. But still, some.

The thought of waking up next to her every day made him smile, because despite the fact that he had used her, gained dominion over her by violating her mind, he had finally after long last seized something for himself. After having been deprived of power for so long, having at least some of it within his grasp felt euphoric.

And I don't have to be alone anymore.

He tried to ignore the sense that he had done something unforgivable.

“Are we ready to go?” Izel asked, tying her hair into a cute ponytail. Where had she gotten the band? The dress she’d worn yesterday didn't have any pockets.

“Yeah.” He faced Ebbeth. The older woman swallowed, nodding after a few moments.

“I’ll lead you to the servants’ quarters. Follow me,” she said.

They followed Ebbeth into the hallway and down the stairs, through a path of winding corridors that he had extensively explored during childhood. Eventually, they came upon a large, narrow room with stone walls adorned with flickering mana torches. Several doors lined the room, a few of which were open. White-clad men and women exited different rooms, conversing with one another. They stopped when they saw the new arrivals.

“These are the servants’ quarters,” Julian whispered to Izel, who walked right next to him.

“I figured that,” she responded. She looked around. “Do they all live here?”

He shook his head as they walked. Servants bowed obediently to him as they passed.

“Our domestic servants do. Usually it’ll be three or four to a room. Those who have families and have worked here a while and wish to do so are usually permitted to build homes in certain sections of our land. We even have a small village going on the other end of the property with a few hundred people and growing, as well as some farmsteads where servants harvest produce for the estate and care for livestock in exchange for protection. The excess goods are sold off in markets or traded to our vassals who have estates nearby. Every once in a while, a classed will be born among them, but that's very rare. They will foster with us or our vassals, depending on what their class is, strengthening our ranks and our family’s influence among the noble houses.”

Izel nodded, a bit of grudging respect in her gaze. “Sounds like a forgiving system. Back in Tenlan, servants either work or they’re thrown out into the cold to starve or freeze, classed or not. Whether they’re injured or sick doesn’t matter either.”

Ebbeth glanced back at her, her eyes wide with alarm.

“Sorry, Ebbeth,” Izel offered quietly, an uncharacteristic tinge of regret in her voice.

The servant shook her head and murmured softly, “You don’t owe me an apology, my lady. It is I who sometimes forgets how cruel the world can be.”

The room widened into a communal area with various wooden tables arranged neatly. There seemed to be enough space to comfortably seat more than fifty people, with room for more tables to be brought in if necessary. Household supplies and tools were arranged on the left side of the room. Servants milled about them, grabbing the tools and supplies they would need for their workdays.

Julian stopped when he saw the tall, muscular woman standing in the center of the room. She had dark hair, blue eyes, and dusky skin the same shade as her daughter’s. She wore a set of thin brown leather armor that clung to her breasts and showed off her toned midriff and pants that hugged her thick thighs.

Brianna Ulner’s eyes found him almost immediately and flared angrily.

Shit.

“Look who finally decided to grace us with his presence,” she said coldly. She walked towards him with a grace that belied her size and build. A large double bladed axe gleamed threateningly alongside her back.

Izel tensed beside him. Ebbeth’s eyes met his sympathetically, a hint of protectiveness in her gaze.

Julian's hands felt clammy as he took a deep breath and mentally prepared himself for what was to come.

---

Julian Imerdan (lv. 7 Psion)

HP: 142/142

ST: 119/119

WP: 470/470

Skills...

Attributes…

Effects…

Julian's Skills

[Manipulation] Suggestion (cost: 20 WP) - Telepathically implant a suggestion in the mind of a target to influence or induce an action, thought, or emotion.

[Manipulation] Hypnosis (cost: 30 WP) – Lull someone into a hypnotic trance. Requires the use of a pendant or other foci to draw the target’s gaze.

[Affliction] Mind Jab (cost: 15 WP): Project a weak bolt of psionic energy that attacks the mind of an opponent, causing crippling mental pain that lasts for a few moments.

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

[Connection] Detect Mind (cost: 2 WP/s): Focus your awareness outward to detect the minds of sentient organic beings within ten feet.

[Connection] Connect Mind (cost: 5 WP) – Choose two minds glimpsed with Detect Mind and link them together for a time, allowing a psionic Skill used on one mind to affect the other.

[Matter] Piercing Field (cost: 15 WP) – Imbue a weapon or projectile within range with an impossibly narrow telekinetic field, allowing it to cut through armor. The field dissipates after a single attack.

[Knowledge] Safe Fall (cost: free) - You have learned how to shift your body mid-air to significantly mitigate falling damage.

[Knowledge] Meditation (cost: free) - Clear your thoughts and retreat into an introspective state within your own mind. Your WP regeneration is significantly increased while meditating. Meditation is a viable substitute for the equivalent amount of sleep.

[Innate] Focus (cost: free) - When in combat, enter a state of emotional detachment which allows you to ignore pain and resist negative mental effects.

Julian’s Attributes

Human - As a member of the human species, your body is more resilient than most other sapient races.

Magical Ancestry - Several of your ancestors possessed powerful magical abilities and talents. The barest hint of their talent resides within you, granting you easier use of magical items.

Psionic - You are capable of affecting physical and nonphysical reality through Will alone. You are resistant to mental effects and psionic damage. You can perceive all spectrums of psionic energy.

Fardreamer - While you sleep, you may randomly send your mental awareness to another place in the universe.

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