Sunlight streamed through a nearby window, casting a bright square on the rough wooden table. The light reflected off red liquid within a clear glass bottle near where Ulrich's guantleted hand rested. He gingerly picked the bottle up, holding the liquid between the sun and his eye. It settled within the bottle and glittered subtly as Ulrich watched it swirl gently.<span style="font-style: italic"> Strange to think that such a simple thing could be so costly. </span>He knew it wasn't the liquid that was so valued, but the magic imbued into it. With a small sigh he carefully set the elixir back upon the table. Armor creaked as he stood up, his six foot frame towering in the low space. A shift of coarse blankets caused Ulrich to look across the room to his grandmother's bed where her once bright blue eyes stared back at him.<br/><br/>"Ulrich, what are you doing here? It's a training day isn't it?"<br/><br/>He nodded in agreement, and replied in a low voice.<br/><br/>"Aye, it's mid day gran, I came back to eat and sit in quiet for awhile."<br/><br/>Truthfully he wanted to check in on her; he worried throughout the day. Ulrich trusted the power of the elixir, but still felt the need to ensure she was alright. At this point he feared it was the only thing keeping her alive. Nearly all of his knight's pay went straight to the magic healers who provided the life giving elixir. While other knight's did quite well for themselves, Ulrich lead a simple life. His small cottage was a short walk from the castle gates mixed in with the peasant's hovels. It was enough.<br/><br/>"I've got to go now, get some more rest. I'll be back before sunfall."<br/><br/>A quick goodbye and Ulrich began the walk back up the beaten dirt path to the castle, his double bladed great-ax slung over his back and helmet under his arm. Guards stood either side of the gate and nodded to Ulrich as he walked through; while he outranked them, Ulrich had hammered into them not to salute when he walked by. It grew tiresome over time. Eventually his trek lead him to the training yard settled between squat barracks buildings. Other knights stood about talking while watching practice duels.<br/><br/>"Oye ya soft bastard, have a good tea party with your gran?"<br/><br/>Raff, a large red bearded knight called out to Ulrich as he approached. Raff was a good friend, though a bit rough around the edges. He held a love for Ulrich's grandmother and had been over for dinner on occasion. It was his way of checking up on her. Ulrich replied, his tone a bit gruffer than it had been with his granny.<br/><br/>"Aye ya ginger tart, we had crumpets and sat about reminiscing when she was a young girl and lads like you had their arses reddened for such foul tongues."<br/><br/>They both smiled at each other and Raff gestured toward an empty space on the training field where the grass had been flattened by armored feet circling one another in mock combat. Ulrich nodded and placed his helmet on his head, tightening the straps as they squared off. Raff roared and charged with his long sword raised up high.<br/><br/>Ulrich saw this for what it was; a feint that would catch him when he threw up his block. He did anyway, but angled the ax more into Raff's face than one would expect. When Raff tried to disengage his sword, Ulrich lifted up and twisted, catching the blade of the long sword high and tight. Raff back pedaled, but Ulrich followed, not allowing him to retrieve his weapon. A few more seconds passed, Raff's frustration growing evident. Urlich timed it so that he disengaged his ax right as Raff did a particularly hard tug, at the same time planting his leather booted foot into Raff's chainmailed chest. The pull and push over balanced Raff and he tumbled backwards. To his credit he tried to regain his composure by sitting up quickly, but the movement was arrested by the haft of a great-ax to his helmet, knocking him back to the ground. The two men laughed as Ulrich helped him to his feet, a few knights nearby nodded at the display and continued their talk.<br/><br/>It was no surprise that Ulrich had won. He was easily one of the best fighters in the kingdom, but he hid this fact from many. To be the best fighter in the kingdom meant you would be recruited to guard the healers and other magic users. Ulrich held no love for them. Once his grandmother had fallen ill they were the only ones he could turn to no matter how loathe he was to do so. They kept her alive, but at an exorbitant price. Urlich was all too happy to pay it though he wondered sometimes if they didn't keep her partially sick. She was still weaker than she had been before the illness came upon her two winters ago. Ulrich's thoughts turned to the little glass bottle; it was nearly time for a refill.