A Battle of Wills:

The rules are simple: dim your opponent's light with images, memories, and sensations. Once your opponent's light has died out, the victor is either free or has dominated the loser, depending on who initiated it.

Outside forces will not be a factor, nor will time. Any ailments caused here will not be reflected in reality. However, extreme trauma can cause the mind to break. You have been warned.

The Battle of Wills will now commence!

A die will be rolled for the order.

Defender is odd

Aggressor is even

Aldrin read as did Bohr before they both saw an ethereal six-sided red and black die appear in the middle above them. It rolled in place, spinning faster than their eyes could keep track of before landing on 1.

The Defender goes first!

Play your first strike!

Bohr grinned, but then it faltered when he realized he didn't exactly know how to play what he wanted. "Uh…er… how do I play?" he asked aloud, staring up at the die that remained in place between them.

What surprised them both is that the System actually responded.

Just speak it into existence

What you play is limited only by the user's imagination and by the constraints of this world and plane only.

No otherworldly images, memories, and sensations may be played

Images are Head Attacks

Memories are Spirit Attacks

Sensations are Body Attacks

Bohr nodded once with a profound look on his features — well at least Aldrin thought it was profound, but the goblin and bestial mixture of Bohr threw him for a loop. Though, the profound look quickly turned into a feral grin.

"Troll Smash!" Bohr shouted immediately, setting the tone for the rest of the game.

In between them, below the die, an image of a hulking troll carrying a tree trunk for a weapon gripped in its massive hand materialized. It roared silently once then did a run and jump towards Aldrin, whose first instinct was to dodge out of the way. However, his feet remained rooted in place by a force greater than he had ever encountered. Aldrin raised his hands and looked away as the club came careening down with a force that would have made him into a pancake.

Yet instead of physical pain he was expecting, the impact struck at him mentally, forcing a splitting headache that frayed any coherent thought. It took everything within him not to lose focus. From Bohr's perspective, the impact of the image made Aldrin's light waver and dim slightly. The image of the troll faded away, leaving Aldrin on his knees, massaging his temples.

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Bohr chuckled evilly at seeing an infamous Vampire on its knees. His people had tales of the Vampires of old and how they were built to be warriors and mages of unparalleled stature. The one in front of Bohr shattered that illusion entirely. Little did he know, Aldrin wasn't considered a fully trained Vampire, nor did he grasp the full scope of what he was capable of.

Aldrin stood after the sharp pain of the headache receded. He gritted his teeth as his mind pulled itself back together. "The memory of my brother's death!" Aldrin countered as the memory of that day bubbled in a misty blue haze underneath the die. It rushed forth, entering through the nose of Bohr.

Bohr stiffened as the crushing weight of loss pressed down upon him. His heart seized as the sadness took root, and his eyes glistened from the torrent of pain that cascaded through his soul. He clutched at his heart, feeling it break and mend over and over, his light dimming with each wave. For what lasted only two seconds felt like years worth of it being carried around.

Bohr wiped his eyes as his heart resumed its normal pace. "Spider Matriarch Venom!" He returned, and a large flask of the bottled venom formed under the die, then moved to hover over Aldrin's head and tilted slightly, letting a single drop fall onto his head.

Fierce burning raced over Aldrin's skin as he felt it dissolve only to see it still attached to him. He pushed through the pain, but his light dimmed some more. "Dragon's fire!" Aldrin returned. The image of an enormous dragon's head materialized under the die and belched reddish-orange flames towards Bohr.

Bohr screamed as he watched the gouge of flames race toward him. They washed over him, and his head split and felt like it was on fire, like dragon fire. His light flickered in and out before snapping back into focus. The flicker didn't escape Aldrin's notice, and thought of another fire-based attack for his next round.

When the fire vanished, Bohr shakily stood, clenching his teeth and balled fists. "Daybreak!" He shouted with hate-filled eyes, hoping the sun would snuff the light of the Vampire.

Behind Bohr, amidst the darkness that surrounded them in the mental duel, the rising sun dawned. Its rays pierced through the darkness, angling themselves towards Aldrin in beams of light. To Aldrin, the beams didn't hurt; they simply welcomed him. The warmth of the sun washed over him, enveloping him in its embrace. His Daywalker Skill allowed him to walk in the sun, but the downside of it was that he could no longer feel its warmth like when he was alive.

Bohr's eyes bulged in astonishment when Aldrin closed his eyes with a smile etched on his face and opened his arms wide as if he was hugging the rays that beamed towards him. "Im-Impossible!" He stuttered. "That should have fried you!"

When the attack was over, Aldrin opened his eyes, and they blazed green in cold fury. "I play by a distinct set of rules. Phoenix Rebirth!" Aldrin commanded as a ruby red egg formed underneath the die then hovered over Bohr, who watched in horror at both what was about to happen and what Aldrin told him.

The egg cracked and, beneath Bohr's feet, flickers of flames ignited before engulfing him in a column of fire, snuffing out the light of Bohr's Willpower. He had no time to scream as Aldrin's mind rushed in through the cracks like water seeping through.

The Battle of Wills has concluded!

Winner: Aggressor

Aldrin read it as time resumed back to normal. He blinked, remembering that he was in the Ash Vultures' underground fighting arena with the Ghoul Baron hunched over the Pinkish-White Goblin. He quickly looked at Bohr to see a glazed-over look, then he felt for the tendril that connected them together. "There you are," he said to himself, then tugged at the strand. The now dominated Bohr twitched once in response, and Aldrin grinned. "Resume like you were. Don't deviate," he commanded through the strand, and Bohr's glazed look vanished as he snapped back into his usual self.

Aldrin turned his attention to the Ghoul Baron. "Spare him. But be ready to spring into action at any moment."

"Yes, my Master," the Ghoul Baron replied and backed away from the resigned Goblin, and the crowd booed and threw food at the fighters.

The Goblin stared in disbelief before starting its grunting form of speech. "What are you doing?! Why spare me?!" he asked as he stood, putting his arms back down to his sides.

"Because you have been wronged and I'm going to help you make it right," Aldrin stated, surprising the Goblin in more ways than one.

The Goblin looked between the cloaked figure and the green-eyed man, who understood him. It was unheard of for a Human to understand Old Goblish.

"How..?" the Goblin asked in disbelief from a multitude of questions.

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