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Jaek Immunem, Anima in de Immortalis

A Frostarian pariah turned mercenary.

0 · 439 views · located in Western Corner: Industrial Zone

a character in “Zenith Empire”, as played by Jaek

Description

Jaek is a prime specimen of his species, standing at exactly eight feet tall. He has a decent muscular build due to his violent occupation as a mercenary. He sports jet black hair, signature of his people, that lies as a shaggy mess atop his head that falls into his face. His skin is of a light grey tone, also a testimony to the well known paleness of his people. Jaek's eyes are two vibrant shades of green. One, his left, is a bright royal emerald. The other has a scar starting right above his brow that which runs vertically downwards, through the eye, ending on his upper cheek. The result is a diamond-shaped slit for his pupil much like a feline's and a very faded, cloudy jade-colored iris. Three dots of indigo appear on his cheek beneath his left eye in a horizontal line. A large swirl of indigo is present on his left shoulder blade and a thick line of indigo also begins at the top center of his upper lip and streaks down to end on his bottom lip.

Jaek holds in his possession a suit of armor that he wears nearly all of the time when out and about. The piece includes a full encompassing helmet that betrays no sight of the wearer's face or emotion to observers. With a steady shade of steel as the main color, the fringes are laced with argent silver and a saffron gold color. The knee, elbow, and shoulder pauldrons bear spikes. Aside from the two shortswords at his hip and longsword resting in a scabbard on Jaek's back, various weapons are hidden within the confines of the Frostarian's exquisite armor as a result of his own personal tinkering. These are often used as last resorts if ever disarmed or in precarious situations. A small patch in the shape resembling a shield is on the right shoulder of his armor bearing the self-chosen Immunem crest of the white Arctic Raven with talons outstretched outlined by a twinge of gold on a sable plane. Aside from the various swirling designs matching the markings on his armor's body and other ornaments, a single circle faintly shows, etched into his armor's breastplate in the upper chest towards the left. This is a seal consisting of a pentagram-like shape in the center surrounded by ancient runic writing from his people's language meant to ward off magic. The same exact seal sits etched into his skin on his right rib cage.

Despite the cold exterior that often makes him uneasy to approach, Jaek is actually quite warm and amicable once gotten known to. He's often silent and calculating when around those he personally does not know but will often appear to be an entirely different individual if alone with close friends as if an icy shell had just been cracked and shattered to reveal the real a new interior. Though rejected by his own kind at some point in his history, he still prides himself in his heritage as seen by the traditional armor made of the trademark mix of Arctic metals and the visage of a family crest on his armor's shoulder. The male is rather intelligent and often considers his options for various actions in pursuit of what is best for the men of his mercenary company in the long run. What might be a seemingly brash and emotionally-heated decision may actually be a play towards bringing him and his men ahead in this game of life for the future to come.

So begins...

Jaek Immunem, Anima in de Immortalis's Story

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#, as written by Jaek
The man ignored the girl but kept his cloak close to him. Pickpockets might be disappointed at the lack of coin he had on his person, they were the least of his concerns. Then again, their kleptic hands might happen upon something else problematic.

--

All the while a certain individual had been slowly making his own way to the gates of Zenith which fed directly into the Marketplace. With his troop sent ahead just in case, he trudged along with the many individuals ranging from pilgrims to merchants that went back and forth between Zenith and neighboring lands. Despite the enormous cloak he wore over his massive frame to conceal most of his armor beneath, the metal pieces still clanked with his movement. One particular old woman kept staring at him noticeable. It got to a point that as he waited in his place in line to be admitted into the Zenith's kingdom grounds he wanted to give her roar just to frighten her off. It'd show her to stare. How rude.

Eventually his place in line had approached the gate. Although Zenith's guardians gave him extremely uneasy looks, something he'd been accustomed to for a long time, they permitted his admittance into the Kingdom of the Sun. Phase Two had been completed. Now it was time for the fun to begin.

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Character Portrait: Narrator Character Portrait: Hakon Paleflame Character Portrait: Jaek Immunem, Anima in de Immortalis Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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Swish swish. Sway sway. Wiggle wiggle. Inside the shop, fairly close to the market to nab some of the business but a bit away from it to reduce the noise and the crowd. It sometimes became too much for one shop owner. As Hakon stepped into the well lit, wooden building, he would see a big brown bottom swaying in the air and a tiny, stubby, brown tail wiggling. There was snuffing and the scratching and clanking of things being pulled out from shelves and rummaged through. This all went on behind the counter though. As Hakon drew closer, all movement stopped and the obviously round being sniffed quietly. And then he stood up, big and brown and a Bear. Jok the Bear. Jok the Butcher Bear. He specialized in Fish but what bear didn't like tender meat. He had a big black nose and small black eyes, round fuzzy ears and massive fuzzy paws, a long snout, a pink tongue to lick his nose and sharp bear teeth. And Jok was loud. Jok was very loud, as any bear should be. And he didn't wear pants. He only wore a button up and a leather vest. "Why hello there!! Don't you smell new!! Welcome to Jok's shop! I sell all types of Fish and all types of meats!! I catch em' all myself!! Hahahahaw!!! What would you like?! Come now, speak up! Never seen a Bear before?!" He bellowed when he talked and roared as he laughed, huffing and wiggling his nose to take in Hakon's scent. His tiny black eyes were wide and staring as he grinned.

Once the guards let Jaek past, they gave eachother an uneasy look. That cloak and clanking wasn't very innocent. They just hoped he didn't have any explosives. Sighing, they all returned to their checking of visitors, giving them a gentle nudge when they passed or sending them to the side for further investigation.

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#, as written by Jaek
It wasn't difficult for his men to spot him. Many villages in the countryside of various lands had witnessed he and his troop pass by. It wasn't rare to hear a gossiper here or there aptly refer to him as a Frost Giant. The cloaked and armored being stood at eight feet tall. Though not at all a sight to see in terms of the fauna these days. Your average grizzly or kodiak bear could stand at near nine feet tall on their hind legs. The average draconian ferals would fair at much larger heights on all fours alone.

No, Jaek was sentient, and for a sentient species, his height was enormous even to the exotic non-Human or near-Humans of Zenith. The Frostarian quietly lumbered down through the marketplace, observing all the sights there were to see. Where a city glimmered and shined like gold during the day, there was absolutely a flipside that was as black as onyx. There was a thriving underground and the underground was where he found the majority of his kind of work.

The only difficult part of this was finding the underground.

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Character Portrait: Narrator Character Portrait: Hakon Paleflame Character Portrait: Jaek Immunem, Anima in de Immortalis Character Portrait: Torm Voss Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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The thick crowd of the market slowed slightly in order to make a path for Jaek. He was large and intimidating. The few who had challenged him during his time in Zenith had half of the fame of a celebrity. Rumors, whispers and talks of his feats and habits were always laced into Zenithian conversations. As the Frost Giant passed by, donned in his armor, the citizens were pretty good about not staring. For the most part, they were becoming used to his presence but still careful. From a few men in the crowd he recieved passive glances from narrowed eyes and from the women he recieved sighs and long stares, giggles, whispers and suggestive waves.

Once the moment of him entering the marketplace passed, the bustling continued but Jaek still had his space. The only one who interrupted this was the little blue female quietly slipping about his legs. She was a child so she had no sexual interest in him. She was a growing pickpocket, her interest was simply to gain something from his person. Hopefully something good. His sparkling and shiny armor had made her pupils dilate and her fingers itch. As he moved, she stuck with him, examining him and trying to find pockets or shiny weapons, she even ran her soft blue fingers against his cool armor a few times in awe.

Not only did Jaek recieve whispers but so did Torm. His whispers were more restricted to curiosity and fear. Zenithians knew nothing about him or his race. Species in Zenith who had come from the endlessness of space didn't even know what planet or galaxy they were from. So for him, people stared a little too long and stayed out of his way.

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#, as written by Jaek
Jaek silently grumbled in his helm. Of course he noticed the little cretin running about his legs. There was nothing she'd gain but a smack to the side of the street if she continued to bother him. His armor had no "conventional" pockets and the pouches in his robes held nothing. The Frostarian figured his best course of action was to ignore the little blueskin. She was just a child trying to make it under the shadow of the city's grandeur. How deceptive, the mercenary mused. A city with the appearance of perfection, yet with its own slimy underbelly. Jaek knew it all. Despite his feats for the sake of Zenith during the Cold War, his services had not been used in any way by the city leadership. Resulting in my dirtying myself with places like these, the Nephilim scowled as he ducked into a nearby narrow alleyway.

Being a mercenary wasn't glorious. They were by far lower than bounty hunters or even assassins and spies for higher. Being a sword for higher that cared more about coffers than loyalties often meant that your position was seen less than honorable more often than not. Monarchical enemies could be easily made if your mercenary band was the sole cause of the scales tipping in the tide of a war. Enemies of royal stature weren't the only friends one could make in the mercenary business. The filth of urban areas also often held mercenaries in contempt if they weren't being hired by the gangs. Mafias, triads, and the likes often saw mercenary bands as competition.

The Frostarian quietly made his way down the alleyway walking past several bums hiding out in the alley's shadows during the daylight. The smell of alcohol and shit permeated the air but had no affect on his heightened senses thanks to both the helmet and him having smelled worse. Jaek continued down the alley until it opened up into a small square of space between several buildings. Many of the bums had left as soon as they saw him enter the area. Several others began to take their leave as soon as they could. A few figures standing about and lounging on a few crates stood up immediately and watched the eight foot tall cloaked being approach them.

The party was a diverse group, as expected of Zenith. Several were human of descent of the kind that made up the majority of this continent, a few blue and greenskins amongst them, even an elf to Jaek's mild surprise. For such an uppity species like his own an elf definitely was a rare sight to see in one of Zenith's major crime triads. The Frostarian wasn't really interested in any of them. What he was interested was one of their members. One of the humans, a man in his early twenties it seemed with spiked black hair, basic leather armor, and a rather unkempt mustache made his way to Jaek.

"Hey man you can't just co- Oof!" The mercenary promptly shoved him out of his way and into the nearby brick wall, prompting the others to draw their swords.

"Relax," boomed the Frostarian's muffled voice. "I'm not here to kill you." Their swords wavered as they looked at each other. "I'm here for him."

The gang members stopped and let the unrobed armored figure walk past them and take hold of a small creature with green spotted skin and pointy ears.

"OH! Hiiii J-Jaek. Fancy seeing you h-"
"Shut up, Hemsley. You can spare me the gremlin charm. I've had enough of your kind throughout my stay in Blackfell. Now tell me," he brought the gremlin close to his helmeted face, the faceless steel piece staring the greenling down, "Does your boss have another job for me and my group or do we need to go to the" Kandoke Clan?"
"It's funny you mention that..."
An unseen eyebrow rose. "Why."
"W-Well... He's found another group to work the jobs he- HNGH!"

The denizens of Zenith's marketplace were milling about, doing what they did best: look at stalls, purchase items, take up space, etc. Suddenly a body flew from one of the alley's and landed into one of the merchant carts followed by another. Several men seemed to run out from one of the alleys and into the crowd. Follow them was the thundering footsteps of Jaek as the crowd split almost instantly to allow him unmolested passage. The Frostarian quickly drop kicked the gremlin into the nearest building as he pursued the few remaining triad members.

"Your asses are mine!" he roared. "I'll make sure your boss wish he hadn't passed the White Ravens over!"

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Character Portrait: Hakon Paleflame Character Portrait: Jaek Immunem, Anima in de Immortalis Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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When Jaek departed the scene, the female blueskin decided not to follow him into such a sketchy alley. She knew where it went but she didn't want to visit, so she scampered home to examine her winnings.

When the crafty Goblin went flying into a Fruit stall, the merchant cried out and barely had time to escape. Rising from the remnants of his income, his pink skin darkened a few shades and the black pupils of his blue eyes narrowed. He started to curse the Goblin and the Frostarian in the words of his people, waving his arms about.

Almost immediately, three guards were tensed and armed assessing the situation. Jaek was steadily approaching Hemsley, who was groaning and slowly getting to his feet. The armored Titan bellowed and the guards jump and look at one another. Then, in a blink two of them stepped back, leaving the middle man to look from one to the other in shock. "Wha-?! I can't do that! Look at that!" He whines. Gesturing to the scene.
"Nono. We'll get help and you stall..!" The first guard says, already backing away.
"Yeah! It's been done before! It can't be that hard!" He smiles encouragingly but his eyes betray it.
The guard who had been elected pants and stares at the Frostarian, gulping and his eyes wide.

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#, as written by Jaek
The Frostarian turned to look where he had thrown Hemsley and the chaos that surrounded the area of his impact. A lone guard stood in his path, knees wobbling and armor shaking, clearly new on the job. Jaek grinned behind his helmet. The Frostarian slowly stalked towards the guard until he came within a few feet of the man and had to actually bend forwards a bit to get face to face with him.

"Excuse me," came his deep, muffled voice. "You're in my way."

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The pink Fruit Vendor continued to curse and go on while trying to pick up his fruits. His words although in a different language sounded angry and then sad, and then despair and then angry again as he shook his fist.

The two guards were still trying to convince they're colleague to stall Jaek when the giant started coming over. They saw this over the Guard's shoulder and started backing away faster before ultimately running away. But not before clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Just don't freeze up." Said one who lingered for a bit before scuttling off.

Turning about the last man came face to face with Jaek, he inwardly whimpered as he stared at his armored face, his own face mask pushed up. "U-uhm.." He stutters, gulping. But, he soon holds the hilt of his broadsword tighter. "I.. I cannot let you go any further, Frostarian!! So.. so please turn around and leave Hemsley to the Zenithian Guard..!" He finds his voice and stands straighter.

Of course by now a circle was forming, citizens coming to watch the scene play out but keeping a safe distance. But this making of a ring only made the Guard more nervous.

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The guard tensed as the Frostarian raised a hand towards him. When he opened his eyes, he had only been moved aside like a small child. Puffing, he drew his sword and put a little pep in his step to get between Jaek and the Goblin once more. "You have already caused a scene in the Market and destroyed property of one of the Merchants! I cannot allow you to continue!" He raises his voice a bit louder to get his point accross. Stories about this Frostarian said he was battle hungry but smart. Hopefully the intelligence part of him took over and this Guard could live another day.

The vendor was cursing to himself, too upset to see the potential danger building before his very eyes. When Torm came over and quietly stacked his fruits, he moved back in surprise. Tipping his head, he watched as all his unharmed merchandise was neatly piled together, grinning, he bounces up and down and thanks Torm many times over. Now all he needed was a cart to transport the fruit out of the market and back home.

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#, as written by Smeath
Torm quietly steps into the circle, and draws his Emitter, letting it show clearly as he approaches the two. He calmly says "Guardsman, stand down. I will handle Him." as he arrives finally. He takes a good, long look over Jaek, noting that time had hardly taken any toll on the Northerner. He questions "So, why are you out here, beating up Goblins now?" before punctuating it with a casual ignition of his Emitter's glowing, silvery-blue blade revealing his already-prepared weaponry. He says "And if you're planning on killing him, I will stop you. Your kind are not supposed to harm anyone in this city, not without being assaulted first. Frostarian relations are already tenuous, and I'm certain you would rather not have to suffer a public lynching." While he was speaking, he was whispering into the guard's mind, encouraging him to run, to go and find the more confident of his brothers, or to at least get out of the way. This was not a fight he would allow the helpless to participate in. And fear crippled far more viciously than any wound.

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#, as written by Jaek
"Firstly," came the Nephilim's deep muffled tones. "He's a Gremlin. Secondly," the armored individual slowly turned to face the Kiffar. "I wasn't going to kill him, I was going to extract information from the little scoundrel. And thirdly," the Frostarian's carpi lamina shot out from his gauntlet with a SHING! in answer to the Kiffar's Emitter igniting. "I'm not with the Frostarian Tribes, those political stipulations do not apply to me as an independent party."

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The guard gave a thankful, inward sigh as he heard Torm'S voice. Turning to see he was a Kiffar, he was more than relieved. He was joyous. Soon after, he heard the voice in his mind and, in a bit of awe, he slowly stepped back. When he gathered himself he started to urge the curious crowd to back away or better yet, leave. "Move along people! This is not something to stare at! You could possibly be seriously injured!" He urges, successfully thinning the crowd and, in turn, making more room for the upcoming battle.

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#, as written by Smeath
Torm takes a single, calm step back, adjusting his footing and shrugging off his cloak, revealing his robed body and firm exterior "All the same, your race and their social standing means something to these people. And some of them are likely planning to use anything to get you into trouble." He grasps his emitter with both hands, assuming a combat stance "Simply going around killing people, scum and cowards though they may be, is no way to help anybody in the long-term. Even yourself." He was stalling, and he was fairly certain The Guard, a number of the people, and even Jaek himself, knew. He prepared himself mentally for what would be the Northerner's onslaught. From what he remembered, this one's fighting style was certainly something of a martial hurricane, relying on speed, strength, and the sturdiness of his equipment over technical prowess or precision. He hadn't seen what would happen if he pressed the Frostarian into a full defensive, but he doubted that Frostarian warriors themselves were even capable of being completely defensive without some form of shield. Torm would need to be fast, faster than he'd had to be in at least a month, and on his toes the entire time. One slip-up and he may just be caught in a situation he wouldn't be capable of recovering from.

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#, as written by Jaek
The Frostarian could only shake his head. Was anyone even listening? "I'm going to interrogate the stupid little imp, not kill him." As long as he tells me all he knows, he added mentally. "The people here can do what they will to defame Frostaria's name, I am no citizen of it. The only thing I share now with the Father kingdom is my race, nothing more," he hissed. The Northerner, easily two or three heads taller than the Kiffar male, began to slowly advance towards the discombobulated Hemsley. "Talk all you wish, Kiffar. I'll continue on with my business unless you wish to stop me."

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#, as written by Smeath
Torm quietly steps back in his way "Either way, you shouldn't try to do these things on your own." he argues, now trying to anger the Frostarian more than anything "I'm sure whatever he's done, he's done more than that. It'd be easier to take him in and join the interrogation. I would think you've garnered at least that much respect and influence. An unnecessarily vicious public interrogation like this would produce about as much in terms of results as shooting yourself in the foot." he adopts a much more relaxed pose. Now he was attempting to speak to the Northerner telepathically "But, if you're really that insistent on interrogating him on your own, I'm sure I can tie him down and we can have a fair sparring match. Some of these people want to see us fight, and call me crazy, I want to see just how much better we've gotten after the Cold War." if his message were to get through, he would actually smile cockily. As if to put emphasis on the whole thing, he lifted two fingers from his off-hand, and up floated the Gremlin, held aloft by a tether of his mind. Certainly high up enough that he were to drop him, the little man wouldn't be going very far, very soon. He genuinely wanted a fair fight, he hadn't had something even close to it with his own kin, or with anybody else Post-Cold War, and the silence and contemplation of his people after such a war bored him.

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"Make way! Move citizens! Return to your daily activities at once!" a deep voice belowed. Members of the crowd gasped and the tallest beings could see the gleam and shimmer of the armor from a group of Zenithian guards. The crowd thinned as singular members of the group broke off and herded them away from the scene. From the center emerged a man in slim armor, a short sword at his hip and an engraved sun on his shoulder. Five of them actually. He was a pale-skinned Nymph. Dark brown hair was pushed back into handsome curls and his eyes were a piercing blue, his face set in stone as he placed his left hand on the hilt of his sword and raised his right to point to Hemsley.

His gaze flit from Jaek to Torm. "From what I understand this all started with that Goblin." His voice was loud and clear and needed no push to give it volume. This was natural. "Release him and take this fight elsewhere. Beings of your name should not sink to lowly brawls in the marketplace." His voice sunk at the word lowly, it dripping with disgust. Dropping his arm, he moved his right foot and started a pace to the left. "Especially not you Frostarian." His eyes narrowed. "...Not after the prowess your people displayed during the Cold War." He left a small silence before turning and pacing towards Torm but keeping his distance. His eyes glanced at the wide-eyed Hemsley. "And you. I don't know much of your people but I'm sure they do not condone behaviors such as this. Not after the hospitality of our King."

The man moves back to his position at the center of the two, his place making a triangle. Flexing his hands he clears his throat. "I am Lars. General and Captain of the 4th Tower Guard and I am ordering you two to leave the premises." He looks from one to the other.

The rain continued to patter down, tinking off of the armor and quietly thumping on the cloth of others, splashing into the puddles on the ground. The guards were blocking off this section of the market, directing rubber-neckers away with a quiet glare.

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#, as written by Jaek
"U-Ummm, actually, I'm a Gremli-" Hemsley flinched at the sound of the guard's voice. For a pretty boy Nymph, this guy was pretty scary. He obviously meant business, almost more than the captain of the White Ravens did. He had to smile inwardly, however. Obviously the guardsman hadn't the slightest clue of what his people were known for. I mean, for crying out loud, thought Hemsley. I'm a Gremlin. People use our name to describe mischievous children.

Jaek had already been preparing to advance on Torm when a voice came booming across the Marketplace from the crowd. The Frostarian's helmeted head turned to the source of the sound to find the proclaimed Captain of the 4th Tower Guard. 'Tower Guard.' The title rang a bell. The guardsmen that manned the ramparts, the walls, and the towers. Good archers, excellent in confined space. At least that's what Jaek thought they were. Given his extended absences, he couldn't be bothered to remember anymore after the Cold War.

He scowled at his association with his race. He didn't exactly go around shouting his life's story in the streets, but surely people noticed he was an outcast, a loner, independent of his people. His race hadn't brought him any prestige when he first came here, only mystery and wonder. Now with an embassy in the city and his kin revered as the royal guards of Zeus himself it was like he couldn't escape the shadow Frostaria had cast over him.

Just the simple thought of this angered the mercenary further. "Change of the plans, Kiffar," he roared. "The Guardsman is mine." With near blinding burst of speed, the Frostarian was practically in Captain Lars' face in mere seconds. His wristblade wasn't intended for highly aggressive maneuvers, but he figured he'd throw the dear Captain off with a ferocious onslaught first off before he'd begin to use carpi lamina for what they were meant; precision.

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#, as written by Smeath
Torm had hardly registered what the Captain had said, before the Frostarian's roaring charge led him right on past toward the guard captain. The Nymph had made a point, and it was fair enough. He was Kiffar, dammit! Calm, collected, and peaceful were the three words that described the core tenants of his peoples' philosophy. But none of that could stop what was happening. But he could at least abate this so they didn't get into any more trouble than they already were in.

Torm raises a hand "I don't think so." and lashes out at Jaek before he can strike the Guard Captain "Your opponent." But rather than unleash a full telekinetic strike, he leashed the Northerner, by the plates on his armor, and hauled him backwards with a mighty pull "Is me! he declares, mind steeled. The moment Jaek had come back, he was certain the Frostarian would be on him, he planned to meet him blow-for-blow, weapon a swirling flurry of strikes. A full-out assault to keep him occupied. All the while, he was speaking to the Nymph's mind "Stay back. He's enraged, nothing you can do without serious firepower can keep him down. Just let me fight him out of the city." he whispered.

And that's exactly what he was doing. Torm's entire barrage would be keyed to force the Northerner back toward the gates. Targeting him at his hands, in spots his armor couldn't cover as well, and other key points like his footwork. All of these strikes were his method of forcing Jaek to dodge and evade, to move rather than simply defend. If he could work in a throw at any point in their sequence, he certainly would. Anything keep him going toward the gate would make absolute priority for his current engagement strategy.

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Character Portrait: Jaek Immunem, Anima in de Immortalis Character Portrait: Torm Voss Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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Lars put one foot back at the sound of the Frostarian's roar, his hand tightening on the hilt of his blade. When Jaek was breathing in his face, his ears catching the sound of it bouncing around in his helmet, his weapon was halfway out of the sheath. The guards who weren't creating the circle barrier were tensed and had drawn their weapons, an archer's bow notched. But, Lars' tense person relaxed a bit in confusion as the beast suddenly stopped his advance. His dark brows furrowed and he quickly looked at the Kiffar. "You..? Uh-" He went still again as he stared at Torm and listened to the voice in his head. "Telepathy..? Let my men stand by you incase of a need for assistance." He replies to Torm without moving his lips.

All the while, Hemsley had actually relaxed in his current position and was boredly watching the show. He'd actually started contimplating totally irrelevant things.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jaek Immunem, Anima in de Immortalis Character Portrait: Torm Voss Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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#, as written by Jaek
Jaek had just been about to introduce the lovely Nymph captain to his left fist when he felt himself freeze in motion. Had his armor not been so close to his body, practically part of his skin, he'd have rebounded within his own suit. "Grrr..." Lars could easily hear the Frostarian's discomfort.

The Nephilim soon felt himself being dragged backwards against his will. He protested, of course. Nobody told him what to do or where to go, especially through manipulative means such as this Kiffar's telekinesis. I always forget they have that.

Jaek thought about thrashing but decided against it. The Kiffar was his opponent now and he wanted a fight. The Frostarian decided this would provide him just the momentum he needed. Jaek managed to crouch down under the strain of the telekinesis and pushed off the ground with his feet, sending him flying back. "TORM!" he roared as he spiraled back at the Kiffar.