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Torm Voss

A man of a new breed of mankind. A mentalist, a protector, and a warrior

0 · 495 views · located in Western Corner: Industrial Zone

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

Description

Physical Description: Torm is like many of the Kiffar race that had recently arrived and established themselves in Zenith. A human in most of they physical rights, save their almost unnaturally flowing and graceful movements. Torm himself seems to bear at around 6'1". Weighing in at an easy 166 pounds, much of his physical stature is muscle, with a healthy medium to maintain physical safety and balance. Torm wears his black, short hair in a slightly shaggy manner, letting it hang loosely without any restriction, and his eyes are a piercing blue, which he has grown quite fond of. Almost all of the mutations that the Kiffar experience, post Destruction, were internal, making certain that they work, biologically similarly to that of humans, but their mental and metaphysical capabilities were jacked up to an extreme many thought impossible by the logic of sheer improbability. Selective breeding and centuries of safety and discipline and forging have brought the race to their spacefaring status.

Personality: The Kiffar race have, through centuries of discovery and training, turned their emissaries, soldiers, and civilians alike, into disciplined men and women. Torm is fairly different. Despite his reliance on his training and the raw calculating intelligence he conducts himself with in most regular conversation, his conduct in a battle is far different. Unlike many of his kind, he draws from his passions, from his emotions. Not from anger, or from hate, or from bloodlust, but from his ability to enjoy a fight, no matter the circumstances. His typical initial stance is defensive, which means he will stonewall or dance around his opposition, gauging their physical, mental, and supernatural capabilities, before eventually switching to an offensive posture, if necessary, and tearing his opponent down. In terms of emotion outside of battle, he will often maintain his stone face, throwing up walls of emotion internally to avoid the probings of other mentalists, but keeping the cool, indifferent facade up for as long as it suits him.

PLEASE RESPECT THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN WRITER KNOWLEDGE AND CHARACTER KNOWLEDGE
Equipment & Abilities: Torm, as many of his kind, does not carry much with him in his travels. What he does carry is listed as such:
Robes: A set of simple, enshrouding robes. Meant to obscure the identity and act as a utility item for travel.
Pouch: A simple pouch he keeps attached to his belt beneath his robes, but over his clothes, carries a modest sum of the local currency, meant for food, board, and small comforts and amenities.
Psychoactive Emitter [PE] (Variant I): The weapon of choice for many of his kind, particularly for emissaries or guardians, due to its utility in battle, allowing for multiple types of grips and the size is comfortable. The Psychoactive Emitter is a set of circuitry and machinery, contained within a powered metal cylinder, with an emitter matrix in the center, which feeds of the wielder's latent psychic energies to generate a contained plasma tube. It takes a mentalist of a relatively decent strength to activate the weapon due to the concentration required to utilize it. The Omni-directional cutting blade generated by the emitter is often dependent on the emitter matrix's configuration. Torm's personal emitter is constructed and configured to generate an icy blue color, and the interior is waterproofed, allowing it to work properly during and after being submerged in water for long periods of time.
Telepathy: All Kiffar retain the ability to communicate telepathically with one-another, and to those with a strong willpower or presence of mind.
Kinetic: All Kiffar are telepaths and kineticists, meaning they have a great understanding of telekinesis and many of its other forms of energy manipulation, including, but not limited to, pyrokinesis and electrokinesis. Torm is a strong kineticist, meaning he is capable of manipulating many hostile forms of energy, magical or nonmagical, to defend himself.
Restorative Telepathy: Some Kiffar are trained to heal injuries through empathic mental energy. Pouring mental energy, along with physical energy, into a wound, to heal the damaged tissues and cells, this means that many Kiffar are also trained to be resilient toward poisons and toxins of a variety of types. Torm happens to be well-versed in the healing arts, as well as the ability to resist poisons and toxins.
Biological Enhancement: All Kiffar are required to have some talent with enhancing their bodies' capabilities through their draw of mental energy, taxing though the process may be if used in long periods of time, if used properly in short bursts, a Kiffar can enhance his or her physical strength, speed, agility, and endurance to far beyond natural levels. However, going too far overboard is hazardous, as the expenditure of so much energy so quickly can potentially result in fatigue or lethal exhaustion. Torm is masterfully-versed in this form of bodily mental manipulation.
Mental Prowess: As experienced psychics and telepaths, Kiffar are very strong psychologically, making it difficult to attack them mentally or dominate their minds and willpower with illusions or raw telepathic attack, making them a hard target for mages who specialize in illusion magic or aggressive mental domination.
Emotion Prediction: Many Kiffar can read the surface emotions of those around them, making it easier to discern lies and deception.
Post-Cognition: Torm has the rare ability to witness events as if he were there, based on contact with items of personal use or importance to others, this allows him to learn more based purely on contact with someone's possessions and, on rare occasions, allows the practitioner to wrench memories from other living beings' minds.

Historical Background: Torm was, like all children of his age, raised on the monastic fleet of the Kiffar, roaming space and being taught the history of his people, among other things. In his teenage years, he expressed his first signs of Post-Cognition, which was nurtured into his later years, where he showed great prowess as a warrior and duelist, as well as an apt negotiator and investigator. He was later posted to the Processional Guard, a set of talented warriors and negotiators meant to guard the emissaries of the Kiffar. He established himself as a worthy member of their society, and a capable warrior and negotiator, able to talk down many aggressors, and cut down those who would not listen, often taking on many as ten blade-wielding opponents at a time with just his single Variant I PE, when so many of his fellow Guardsmen favored the Variant V PE, which was more pike-like, and allow the wielder much more reach, and a solid weapon, should they be too mentally exhausted to activate their weapons' blades. Later on, Torm was promoted to Ambassador in the Procession, negotiated the arrival of the Kiffar on Earth, and their integration into Zenith. He also fought on the front lines of the Cold war, valiantly besting many Frostarian soldiers on the field of battle, before the treaty was created and signed.

So begins...

Torm Voss's Story

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Character Portrait: Jaek Immunem, Anima in de Immortalis Character Portrait: Torm Voss
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#, as written by Jaek
Jaek was not amused. Those telekinetic blasts would be devastating if they kept catching him off balance like that. Had he been on both feet it might have pushed him but this, he sneered at the surroundings passing him by as his armored body flew, was unacceptable.

Twisting around he landed on both feet with the clunk of his armor and brought up both wristblades to block the Kiffar's follow up. Parrying here and there, Jaek quickly went for several slashes at Torm's limbs. Again, weapons such as the ones the Frostarian mercenary was utilizing were not meant for utter destruction and strength, but precision. Should a swipe hit, it wouldn't remove an extremity, but it would surely cause bleeding and possible crippling. In a way, they were like over-sized knives. Then again, could you really say they were over-sized in the hands of a Frostarian?

The Frostarian had his objective in mind while taking any shot he could. It'd keep Torm on offensive defensive position at the least while Jaek remained on the defensive. He'd rather be unleashing an onslaught of nearly un-parriable attacks, however the weapons afforded to him at the moment weren't intent for that purpose. He would make do.

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Character Portrait: Jaek Immunem, Anima in de Immortalis Character Portrait: Torm Voss
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#, as written by Smeath
Torm takes the swipes in-stride, blade continuing to maintain its whirling fury. Jaek's attempts at debilitating his offensive were clever, if a bit rushed. Likely due to just how hard he was being pressed. Torm parries a number of the swings, letting the blows that got through to roll off his limbs, leaving numerous bleeding wounds, but certainly nothing that would slow his offensive. Nor something he couldn't mend if he managed to split the Frostarian's attention for a few moments.

Torm kept up his offensive whilst weathering the Frostarian's attempts at forcing him to start hopping between attack and defense. The mental strain was there, but it wasn't overpowering. He was certainly capable of maintaining this offensive at least long enough to achieve his objective. Utilizing his quick-thinking, Torm starts to change-up his offensive. Switching off between bladework and physical strikes, and actually reaching out and throwing stray objects at Jaek with his telekinesis or manually, attempting to thrash him with trash or other errant objects when he forced the Northerner to backpedal enough for breathing room which, while rare, was certainly something to keep his attention.

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Character Portrait: Jaek Immunem, Anima in de Immortalis Character Portrait: Torm Voss
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#, as written by Jaek
The Frostarian recognized that he was getting backed up against a wall, err, the gate rather, but there was nothing he could do. The Kiffar was putting on effective pressure despite sustaining several minor flesh wounds, and all Jaek could do was parry and riposte.

The Kiffar began mixing up his attacks, alternating between physical strikes, slashes with his psionic weapon, and now throwing objects from their surroundings at the Frostarian. Unless they were something sizable, a trash can here or there would simply bounce off of Jaek. Regardless, those objects were nuisances. Torm kept putting distance between the two in order to gain that space to throw objects. That had to end.

The mercenary threw in several slashes with his carpi laminae then followed up with a roundhouse kick. His long legs gave him quite the wide arc. Perhaps Jaek would throw in some more hand to hand moves in their taught by his kin. The Kiffar had fared decently against him before with weapons, it'd be interesting to see how he adapted to the use of martial art utilized by practical giants.

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Character Portrait: Jaek Immunem, Anima in de Immortalis Character Portrait: Torm Voss
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#, as written by Smeath
Much to the Kiffar's own chagrin, he was caught off-guard for just a moment by the transition to hand-to-hand. Not by the roundhouse kick, but by the first punch that Jaek had thrown after. This had been straight after a series of parries, and then the sudden dodge of a boot aimed for his head. Of course, he was no slouch when it came to hand-to-hand combat, and his light bodyweight and overall muscled form was optimized for much more slippery situations.

The way the Kiffar went about close-range combat was slightly different from how he performed in blade-on-blade. His blade was in a constant flux of on-and-off, utilizing it in many different fashions, as well as his own fists and feet. For a while, he was using it to simply catch the Frostarian's own blade, allowing him an opportunity to slip past his guard by switching the weapon off for a second to sneak in a heavily augmented sucker-punch to his suit's sternum. Wouldn't punch straight through, but it'd dent well, leave a nice welt, and he'd be feeling just a bit winded with each hit. Of course, the Kiffar didn't go without his own occasional hit. That first punch had really left a mark on his face, right across the side. The next punch, he'd gotten lucky, missed his face and glanced off his shoulder. He'd taken a cheap kick to the side, his own fault, let it slip past his guard to catch Jaek by the leg. Once he did, he'd take the fine opportunity to once again, send him flying with a wave of telekinetic energy.

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Character Portrait: Jaek Immunem, Anima in de Immortalis Character Portrait: Torm Voss
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#, as written by Jaek
The loud clang of his armor taking hits from the Kiffar rang loudly in the square of which they fought. There was something to be said for the telekinesis user and his physical abilities, augmented or not. Most lifeforms didn't hold up well against a Frostarian and their fist. Jaek had the privilege of having learned numerous different forms of martial arts given his occupation and adventures in the surrounding lands rather than just the basic hand-to-hand Frostarian infantrymen likely knew. It gave him an edge when fighting others who might be experienced with individuals of his own kind serving in Frostaria's military and even an edge over his own kind. However, the Frostarian had the sinking feeling that wouldn't be the case with Torm. Torm had exceptional skill and though switching styles might throw him off here or there, he'd still be able to hold Jaek off.

The Frostarian threw another right hook and redirected a blow with his left arm before following up with a knee aimed for the Kiffar's center mass as a means to knock him back and get himself some space. He hadn't extended the spike on his knee so that shouldn't be fatal.

The bellum sanguis was still pumping through the Frostarian's veins along with adrenaline and testosterone. Were he human, he'd have lost his mind minutes ago from the amount of hormones his body was producing. Despite the natural help his body was providing, Jaek couldn't help but wheeze a little from the amount of torso shots he took from Torm. There were plenty of visible dents in his breastplate alone and one gauntlet's carpi laminae would be near inoperable if it took too many more hits.

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Character Portrait: Jaek Immunem, Anima in de Immortalis Character Portrait: Torm Voss
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#, as written by Smeath
Torm could tell Jaek was giving ground about as well as he was pressing. Testing their vast amounts of skill, being relatively equaled in terms of raw power, against his own was definitely more enjoyable than much of what he'd been doing in the last month. Torm was fighting hard, and it was showing. The bruises he'd been dealt were starting to burn, his muscles were a muted complaint, quickly squirreled away by his mental discipline. His head was drenched in sweat, and his robes, the worst casualty of all were his robes. But, that aside, he was smiling, and smiling bright, as he looked at the toll his own efforts were taking on his opponent.

Torm gave him the room he wanted, catching the knee but allowing himself to be forced back for a moment. It gave him a chance to close up the more serious wounds that were pressing him, and a moment to catch his breath. But moments later, he was on the war path again, pressing him with his original blade-to-blade and the like. However, he took a moment between strokes to give the little gremlin he was still holding a chance to see just what kind of power-creatures he was dealing with, by pulling him along, giving him a bird's eye view of the fight as it got into the real dirty strikes. It would be fun to sense the creature's confusion and give him a playful scare later. Of course, his intent was still there, no harm should come to the creature's life.

Torm took a moment to notice the opening of the gates, and decided that now would be the perfect time to press the hardest. Or, to cheat and just life and ragdoll Jaek out of the city and follow him. But, that part really didn't seem fair. For now, he'd just start to press harder, making certain to actively press against the weakened portions of the Frostarian's armor to make sure he got just how hard he was doing this particular assault.

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Character Portrait: Jaek Immunem, Anima in de Immortalis Character Portrait: Torm Voss
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#, as written by Jaek
Suddenly, Torm's offensive intensified. They were nearby the gate which began to slowly creak open. What? This was their plan? He only had Torm and the guards as targets, there likely wouldn't have been THAT much collateral damage. Well, not as much as last time. Ironically, Torm was causing much more damage what with his telekinesis pickings things up and tossing them around at Jaek.

"So you plan to give me the boot out of the city, do you!" he roared. "Fine!" He began to mix up his thrown punches by alternating releasing his wristblade here or there. The product was a myriad of punches that otherwise would have been not deadly (to the Kiffar) now rendered even more dangerous with the unpredictability of whether or not the blade would shoot out. Hooks became slashes, jabs became stabs. What might be a block or a redirection may prove more painful than before with the blades as new variables. It would be difficult for the Kiffar to distinguish when a punch to the jaw might end up sending a foot long blade of sharpened Arctic metal through the side of his face.

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Character Portrait: Jaek Immunem, Anima in de Immortalis Character Portrait: Torm Voss
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#, as written by Smeath
This sudden change in tactics caught Torm by surprise, allowing Jaek a few cuts here or there, but didn't staunch his offensive too greatly. In fact, it gave him an excuse to stagger his approach, tossing in less ground-based movements, and applying a greater set of acrobatics. Jaek's fury at being pressed out of the city in this manner made Torm fight to keep his smile from widening into a big pearly target. His anger implied he didn't know exactly what Torm was planning to do when he pushed him out of the city.

Torm's attack methods were much more sporadic than before, rather than solid and driving. He employed much more open and acrobatic movements, much more quickly than most normal creatures would consider reasonably feasible. He'd slowed his reliance on telekinetic shoves and pushes, allowing his own lack of predictability to help the sway of the fight. That's when he finally got it, a clean cut. A nice, hefty strike across the stomach, shredding the armor and leaving a shallow wound on the flesh underneath, followed up immediately by a strike across the head, which rends the Northerner's helmet, cutting his face and sending the arctic metal remains flying off to the side. He takes the opportunity opened by this pair of strikes to throw most of his force into a flat-out telekinetic wave, throwing himself into Jaek in a full-body tackle, and sending the pair of them flying through the gates and crashing into the forest at bullet speeds, certain most of the inevitable crash would be absorbed by the Frostarian's insanely durable armor and the sturdy, if a little bruised, flesh beneath. For the split-second it takes him to do so whilst they're sailing through the air, Torm speaks to Jaek's mind "Listen, when we land, we need to take a short distance, and then I'll explain why exactly I just flat-out threw us both out of the city. It's an unimaginative plan, but a good one. You're gonna like this." he explains shortly.

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Character Portrait: Jaek Immunem, Anima in de Immortalis Character Portrait: Torm Voss
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#, as written by Jaek
All the guards and remaining crowd could hear the outraged roar of the Frostarian and the sound of Torm's impact before they flew out of the gates. The large wooden barriers quickly slammed shut in an attempt to keep the Northern monster out for now. The fact that Jaek's armor was damaged further, even to the point that it had broken near infuriated the Frostarian. However the Kiffar's telepathic words brought him out of his stupor. The hell? he thought. I better like this, Torm.

The two quickly crashed outside the walls with the Frostarian taking the blunt of gravity's punishment. He stood up quickly and tore off what little remained of his helmet, letting his messy black hair fall out. Though his expression was not pleased, it was a little difficult to take him seriously with the helmet head he was suffering.

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Character Portrait: Jaek Immunem, Anima in de Immortalis Character Portrait: Torm Voss
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#, as written by Smeath
Torm rises to his feet, smiling sneakily "Alright, so I couldn't really let you perform the inevitable interrogation you were going to perform, but that restriction only exists within the city, due to the letter dictating my peoples' jurisdiction as part of the city watch." he explains, before raising his hand, and pulling it forward in a fist. A ways away, the gremlin from before is hurtling through the sky, streaking toward the outside of the city. Torm simply stands there, awaiting the arrival of whatever his gesture had just caused.

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Character Portrait: Jaek Immunem, Anima in de Immortalis Character Portrait: Torm Voss
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#, as written by Jaek
Jaek scowled. "I wasn't going to torture him. The little green bastard was scared enough as is by the scene he caused. Your plan better had work." He didn't mind his pride nor hid dignity. Dignity? What dignity? There wasn't much in this line of work.

The Frostarian crossed his arms and stared at the gate walls waiting for Hemsley to appear just as Torm had promised.

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Character Portrait: Jaek Immunem, Anima in de Immortalis Character Portrait: Torm Voss
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#, as written by Smeath
Torm looked puzzled for a moment, before noting the expression of Lars, nodding slowly as an understanding dawned in the span of a moment "I see. So they caught on." Torm notes audibly. He shrugs, and simply slides his emitter back into its place on his belt.

He looks over at Jaek "It appears the guards are not as foolish as they once were, and Hemsley will now be serving a very long sentence in the city prison system." All the while he's explaining this, he still had some reach with Hemsley, and was already digging his way into Hemsley's mind, attempting to pry the necessary information out so violence would not be necessary later.

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Character Portrait: Jaek Immunem, Anima in de Immortalis Character Portrait: Torm Voss
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#, as written by Jaek
Jaek's face flared in a moment of anger and frustration before quickly sputtering out. 'Twas no use. He'd get Lars for sure, in his own special way. The captain would know it too. Hell hath no fury like a Frostarian enraged. If it was a Frostarian woman scorned, then no place in heaven nor hell could hide you.

"All of that for nothing," he huffed, his deep voice now reverberating cleanly without that metallic edge to his voice that his helmet provided. "Good fight, Kiffar. The armor though..." he touched a hand to the slice Torm had made to his abdomen area, his hand coming back with small amounts of blood. "I'm not a fan. Keep that to a minimum in our sparring unless you're actually fighting for your life." To any other individual, sparring with the Frostarian would equate to fighting for one's life. However Jaek had a healthy respect for the Kiffar as warriors, Torm being a prime example as to why. He held them to a higher standard. Sure, it was an unfair generalization to those who hadn't the skill and ability unique to Torm, but Jaek hadn't the time nor the want to spend useful mental space assigning each Kiffar a certain level of restraint the Frostarian would show. In fact, Jaek held every warrior he came across to some sort of expectation in the hopes he'd face someone as strong or stronger than Torm. If the opponent failed to deliver, especially a Kiffar, the Frostarian would simply scoff at their existence as a fighting individual.

So far, Jaek had been disappointed with any he'd come across as of yet.

"I don't suppose they'll let me back into the city, do you?" he asked, wiping off some imaginary dust from his shoulder. "I need to either strip my armor or fetch parts from a back up suit before I go back in anyways."

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Character Portrait: Jaek Immunem, Anima in de Immortalis Character Portrait: Torm Voss
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#, as written by Smeath
Torm calmly closes his eyes, pressing more of his thought into getting what he wanted from Hemsley "Sorry about the armor. Might've gone a bit overboard on that." he begins "That aside, if they won't let you in, I'll just put you there myself. I'm capable of bringing someone over a wall of even that size." he states, leading into a final comment "I suppose I should let you know, I'm trying to dig into the gremlin's mind. I don't know what you were after, but I'm sure if they stay within the city's boundaries, as long as my concentration is undivided, I'll be able to dig it out." he finishes, returning his attention to digging.

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Character Portrait: Jaek Immunem, Anima in de Immortalis Character Portrait: Torm Voss
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#, as written by Jaek
"The Boff gang," Jaek muttered. "That gremlin works for the Boff Gang, one of the largest crime rings in Zenith. I've only ever gotten instruction through messengers like Hemsley, never from Ottaga Boff himself, the bastard. Normally I'd take offense but I can't really blame them. I need to know their main headquarter's location and Boff himself's location, if you can do that."

The sound of twigs snapping sounded behind them as a few White Raven members approached the two hailing from the WR camp that's been residing outside of Zenith's walls.

"I assume it didn't go well?" the familiar voice of Jaek's lieutenant, Abaddon, rang out.
The Frostarian rolled his eyes. "The Kiffar interrupted. Help me with this armor."

Both began to help remove the remaining intact pieces of armor while Torm continued to dig through Hemsley's mind.

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#, as written by Smeath
Torm was already digging into the gremlin's poorly-defended mind. He quietly whispered into Hemsley's mind "Show me your secrets. Show me your master." this was not a direct attempt at communicating with him, but rather him prodding the gremlin's thoughts toward where Torm wanted him to go. He'd already established a foothold, and he planned to follow the path the Gremlin laid out, should his little suggestion work, and the creature decide to become pensive about his boss and where exactly that path may lead. However, should Hemsley choose to resist him, he would simply wrench the information from his mind. The process would be painful, but not lethal or permanently harmful. He'd simply suffer from a mild chronic headache for a week or so, and have the oddest sense of Deja Vu whenever he saw or was spoken to about these particular topics.

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#, as written by Smeath
When Hemsley had given Torm what he had asked for, he simply retreated from the Gremlin's mind. His eyes open, slowly, and he calmly states "I've got what you wanted to know. Hemsley gave it up without much of a fight." and stretches out his limbs a little. Once he'd loosened up once again, he tells them what Hemsley's subconscious told him "Boff's headquarters are in the West Ward, Industrial Zone. He uses a business as a front to keep the Guards away."

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#, as written by Smeath
"That one was just doing his job, let him be." Torm advises, before approaching the wall. He readies himself mentally, waiting for Jaek, if he wanted to come along "I'm going to just carry myself over the wall. If you want to come along, I reccommend saying something before I start." he states, already gathering the necessary strength to levitate himself without exhausting his connection for the evening. If he did this right, he'd be fine. If he did it wrong, he'd be in trouble.

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#, as written by Smeath
The Kiffar nods his head, and takes another deep breath. He was drawing strength from his physical body at the moment, as well as from the connections of his nearby kin. "Then prepare yourself." He states, sternly. After a moment of fair warning and preparation, Torm raises one of his hands, picking up the still relatively hefty weight of Jaek. He hauls the Frostarian upward, following shortly afterword, his own dominant hand facing palm-down as he brings himself up through the air.

Now, lifting someone or something, that was easy. He could be as rough or as precise as he wanted. It didn't matter, either it was strong enough to withstand his force, or he was outside of the situation, and could maintain his concentration. However, self-levitation was a bit of a challenge. Some people would perform the feat at a rudimentary level, maintaining a constant level of kinetic force against the ground to propel themselves upward, as though they were simply using thrusters to hover and fly about. He, however, was quite literally pulling himself upward at a slow pace. This was the easiest way to move himself without sustaining collateral damage. Otherwise, he would've simply launched himself over the wall and allowed himself to decimate whatever he'd come into contact with on the other side to preserve himself.

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#, as written by Smeath
Torm touches down shortly, letting the small breeze of the evening blow across his back. The evening was beautiful, but he really didn't have long to spend enjoying it. After all, he was barely clothed at this point, the Northerner's weapons had practically decimated his clothing. Torn pants, shirt barely even capable of being called as such "In fact." the Kiffar mused, before taking the shirt off and just tossing it to the wind, exposing his cut-up but well-formed chest to the air.

"Industrial Zone is that way, you're looking for the West Ward. Just kick in the door, they won't be able to stop you for long, even now. I'm returning to my quarters to retrieve a change of robes, and then I'll join you there. Provided I'm there, it'll make everything official." the Psion stated, taking a moment to mend his injuries. His strength was flagging, if only a little. But he would still be a more than formidable opponent to just about anybody he could come across in the city, save the King or his own peoples' Grand Mind.

If Jaek would not stop him, Torm would choose simply to dart off for the Kiffar embassy. Granted, the ship would be easier to reach. But he'd have to pass through security, and it would take ages for him to do so there. He would likely grab something to eat as well, something to chew on while he made his way to the West Ward.