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The Concrete Citadel sits amidst the many buildings of downtown Durem, deep within the heart of the city. It stands nearly twice as tall as every building around it, singling it out by towering over the other structures.




Standing twelve stories tall at its highest, the Concrete Citadel towers over the buildings that surround it; some of which being only two or three stories, the tallest being only seven. Still a far cry from many of the skyscrapers that rise to the heavens in other parts of the city, the Citadel still makes itself a memorable mark on the city skyline.

The upper levels of the Citadel are littered with intricate stonework and carvings. Statues the like of which can be found nowhere else on Gaia, and a host of stone gargoyles perched from every corner; as if the building itself were a nesting ground for the winged carvings.

The lower levels contrast even more starkly with the surroundings. The base of the Citadel is nestled in so tightly against the surrounding buildings that there is hardly any space between them at all. The entire structure seems to have poured in to fit exactly between the buildings surrounding it. On the lower floors there are no more gargoyle statues decorating the walls, nor are there any carvings or statues set around the edges. There is only one; the bust of a muscular figure set above the front stairs, arms stretched wide under an archway like Atlas holding up the world.

However... there are no doors or windows on the Concrete Citadel. The building stands like a great obelisk in the city with no openings to the outside world and no way to see what it holds inside.




The Lobby encompasses the first three floors of the Citadel. It is an expansive room that takes up nearly the entire floor of the building. The Citadel center is a large open space within the Lobby that extends up to the third floor before finally ending. The second and third floors of the Citadel are merely accessories to the Lobby; surrounding the large area with two squared balconies with waist-high railings. Each floor also holds a two-meter wide walkway that extends across the center of the gap: the second floor running North-South, the third floor running East-West.

Supporting each balcony from the level below it is a set of stone pillars three feet in diameter that stretch from floor to ceiling on the first and second floor. In each of the Citadel's corners there is a stairwell that runs from the 4th floor down to the Treasury.

The Treasury sits beneath ground level. It is a massive vault made of steel and stone that contains the wealth of Draeger inside. There is only one entrance... a massive steel vault door that seems to open and close of its own accord. Men are allowed into the treasury to view the mountains of gold contained within, but none are ever allowed to leave if they attempt to take what does not belong to them.

Inside the Treasury bricks of gold are stacked in piles taller than houses, gemstones are heaped into mounds the size of desert dunes, and precious artifacts from ages long past litter the area.

The Cavern sits far below the foundations of the Citadel. It is a natural stone cave that houses the ruins of an ancient civilization within it. There are only two ways to reach the Cavern: either by following the winding series of dark corridors that descend below the Treasury into the bowels of Gaia itself, or through one of the portals that connect the ruins to others of the same type throughout the world.

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Within the Cavern are the aged remains of an ancient stadium that has survived the tests of time... barely. The cavern walls meld with those of the stadium, blocking some hallways with stone walls and others with collapsed rock. Over the ages many pillars have tilted or fallen, and of the many carved statues of heroes and kings that decorate the arena there is only one that remains intact:

A colossus made of stone, sitting upon a throne twice as tall as any man as he watches with unblinking eyes and a furrowed brow at the arena ring below him. Empty for millenia... waiting for new blood to be spilled upon it.

The Upper Levels consist of the fourth through eleventh floors. They are each connected by a spiral stairway that runs through the center of the building from the fourth floor up. Each new set of floors presents a different situation to one attempting to climb the tower.

The fourth, fifth, and sixth floors are like any other building. There are hallways, rooms, and doors of all shapes and sizes. Some connecting to others, some leading only to a dead end. With no windows to the outside these two floors more closely resemble a maze than a building.

The seventh, eighth, and ninth floors are divided into four sections each and filled completely with stone statues of various types. Some of warriors, some of animals, but all resemble some manner of living creature.

The tenth and eleventh floors are a garden of carvings. Delicately sculpted sprigs and leaves adorn the trees and foliage. The floor is covered in etchings and sculpture that resemble grass, brush, and even a brook running through the center of the garden.

There are no stairs that reach the twelfth floor.




The Durem Underground is the name of a gambling ring that operates out of the Red Light District. Through Draeger they have arranged for a circuit of CCTV cameras to be set up within the Concrete Citadel on nearly every floor.

Through these cameras the fights are broadcast in seedy back-alley gambling parlors and bets are placed on who will win, who will lose, and who may not survive. Like all illegal fight gambling, the odds are stacked in favor of the bookies and the fighters never get a cut of the profits themselves.

However, it is due to this gambling ring that the fights that take place in the Concrete Citadel quickly become the talk of the town in hushed words and cautious whispers. Fights that take place within the Citadel contribute to a fighter's public image and popularity.




The man called Draeger is the owner of the Citadel. Little is known about him except that he never leaves his tower, that he is a man of unimaginable wealth and power, and that he welcomes to his Citadel any who wish to prove their worth on the battlefield.

Draeger has promised a bar of gold from his Treasury to any fighter that proves his worth. Because of this boast and the tales of untold wealth that emerge from the tower with every combatant that returns, many would-be fighters have flocked to the Citadel in recent weeks, hoping to take home a treasure of their own.




The Concrete Citadel has become the center of a great number of urban legends and superstition since it was first constructed in the city of Durem.

It is said that the Citadel appeared overnight. No crew was ever hired to construct it, and no zoning permits were ever filed for it. There are no records at all of it's construction or who owns the building and the land. Nevertheless, the Citadel stands where it does now, and anyone that asks who owns it is told simply "Draeger".

There are no doors or windows on the outside of the tower. However, there have been those who swear they have seen both, at times. There are also those who have been inside and returned alive to tell about it, swearing that there was nothing special about the entrance and that it was always exactly where it was meant to be.

Some people profess that the entrance to the tower will only appear for those that have the soul of a warrior and carry battle in their hearts.

Many claim to have seen windows in the tower at certain times of day. Some even have proof in the form of photographs that they have taken of the Citadel. However, if there ever was a window it never seems to be there when reexamined.

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A man crumpled an envelope in his hand, shoving it into his pocket as he stared up at the Citadel. Green eyes shone brightly, the golden flecks of yellow swirling gently as he tried to focus at its pinnacle. Shrugging, he began to move forward, taking each step in stride. He ignored the statue in every action except one: running his fingers across the base of it as he stepped around the sculpture.

"If you saw Atlas, the giant who holds the world on his shoulders, if you saw that he stood, blood running down his chest, his knees buckling, his arms trembling but still trying to hold the world aloft with the last of his strength, and the greater his effort the heavier the world bore down upon his shoulders-- what would you tell him to do?"

"I... don't know. What... could he do? What would you tell him?"

"To shrug."

Smirking, Shouyin looked at the blank wall in front of him and rapped stone knuckles against it.

You've been asleep a long time, Velvel. It's almost your birthday.

Shouyin took a step back as the door began to morph, still kind of smiling as it went through its motions. For some reason his expression seemed a little... understated. This was an awe-inspiring moment, a church without doors peeling away to reveal majesty and gold, and yet he was unaffected by its glory.

Was it hero's disillusionment? Had this man experienced too much, even within his short years, and finally become tired of it? This certainly might have explained his sudden 'retirement', whatever or wherever that had been. However, all that experience had only really taught him one thing: that he wasn't a hero. Not of any sort.

Maybe the knowledge that you weren't great, special, or much of anything made the world seem more dull.

"Whatever you say," he went on in.

"Well, we're of an understanding then, that you have ears. Jolly good."

Shouyin eyed the man with a curious look. This was an old hat sort of situation; the clichéd, mysterious building and its halfway omnipotent, arch-villain owner accosting the young and oblivious entrant. Despite the familiarity though, something felt different, as if this was not a situation that could be taken as lightly as all the others, regardless of how many there had been.

It was late fall, and the man with green eyes was wearing blue jeans, skate shoes, a black t-shirt, and a cheap, brown suede jacket that hugged his shoulders tightly, while still providing the necessary warmth. However, in spite of all the provisions made in defense of the season, he felt uncomfortably chill. In the middle of the city, where the heat of over population was an unforgiving constant, he felt the cold of the mountains where he'd decided he'd spend the rest of his days not long ago. Until, of course, he got a letter telling him to come to this very place.

This Citadel wasn't a place true religion, in other words hollow words and blind faith. This was a church of the mountains: of stone and trees and dirt and iron ore. This was a church of the earth, where words were a last resort, because so much had already been said by its presence. Suddenly, the half-golem felt a little inspired, a bit more -alive-.

"But y'know, when I get a letter promising untold riches, I gotta realize something...

I'm just gonna see another big guy who thinks he can take me down."

Shouyin eyed the gold suspiciously, flinching as the bar struck the floor and slid to a stop at his feet. The half-golem frowned and returned his gaze to the man ahead of him.

"..." The theme of this encounter was a bit confusing for him. Was he to be persecuted, or rewarded? He shivered as the citadel, in the true fashion of pathetic fallacy, answered. Little bumps scattered down his forearms as the lights dimmed, tiny hairs brushing uncomfortably against his sleeves as they seemed to go rigid.

For a brief moment Shouyin put his back to his accuser, turning his eyes upwards to view his audience. The man was noticeably unnerved, but human will was the ability to defeat your own emotions, and the half-golem was ******** loaded with will.

"Depends on how much you want me to."

It wasn't that Shou was unmotivated by the gold, he just wasn't sure what his motivation was supposed to be for. The contradiction between the man's words and his attitude had the half-golem off guard. Riches he didn't need: gold he could probably pull out of the ground himself, and a man who was going to make his life Hell unless he killed him?

... Time to quit playing deadwolf.

"You must want it a lot," he said, grinning as he slid his left foot back and put his hands up, taking a basic fighting stance. The gargoyles no longer bothered him; they were stone automatons, and stone was what he worked with best. Vultures that circled overhead when he had no plans on dying.

"That makes things simple."

Shrugging as the constructs leaped at him, Shouyin abandoned his stance, standing up straight and taking a step forward. Immediately the gargoyles were upon him, the most eager one in the vanguard flying directly at his right shoulder.

In a simple motion, as if catching a set of keys tossed gently through the air, the half-golem brought up his right hand, and 'caught' said gargoyle's face. With a gentle squeeze and a self-confident smile, he turned the assailant to dust. He continued to step forward, throwing his arms about in liberal smacks and grabs and punches, casting every attacker aside with granular disdain.

He disregarded the fact that his jacket and shirt were slowly being clawed away, 'cause anyways, the more bare skin there was a'showing, the more those gargoyle claws dissipated against his back.

So, in a cloud of dust, he came closer and closer to his goal.

Nevertheless, Shouyin kept up, matching the rate of creation with that of destruction one for one. However, it was easy to notice the mistakes he was now making under the exponential increase in pressure. Every so often a claw would reach his skin without dissolving, drawing a thin red line across his body. And he might grab a gargoyle and hold it longer than necessary, crushing its face through means of brute force rather than a chemical or elemental finesse.

This hardly mattered though, because by now the man would be within arm's reach, and the half-golem would make a point of this by stepping forward with his right and throwing a good old fashioned stone-fisted straight.