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Torm Voss

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

0 · 481 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

Setting

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#, as written by Smeath
Torm quietly moves across the marketplace toward his home embassy, practically disappearing with how quickly he was moving. He makes an effort to scoop up his cloak to cover himself up on his way in. A necessary measure for him to avoid drawing the suspicion of his colleagues.

The Kiffar takes in his surroundings, allowing himself to perceive solely through the minds of others. He uses this insight to make certain he is unseen on his way. All the while, he's reaching out to his friend Johnathan, asking him to keep one of the upstairs windows open for him to enter. Confident of his secured entrance, he picks up his pacing even more so, actually starting to launch himself upwards, allowing himself to momentarily soar through the air and land softly in clear, if a bit obscured locations to cover ground faster.

He hoped, if for a moment, that nobody would pay too much attention to him whilst he was temporarily exposed in the air. After all, he couldn't keep himself hidden all the time, despite his ability to quite literally tune himself out of the perceptions of others.

The setting changes from Marketplace to Western Corner: Industrial Zone

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#, as written by Smeath
Torm arrived shortly after Jaek, keeping behind the Northern mercenary, but also keeping himself well hidden, judging by the near-invisible shimmer surrounding his body. It was a more advanced ability, and one he could not utilize for long spans of time. He clouded the perceptions of the people around him, making him seem invisible. However, rather than actually becoming invisible, he was merely an afterthought. A man moving in the corner of one's vision that would be difficult to recall and would likely shift position, should he be gazed upon.

However, once he'd stepped into position, he took a moment to finish off a small strip of some kind of meat, dried and preserved, clearly, but his presence seemed to grow once he had finally finished it. The Kiffar's strength was restored, and his connection flared up, allowing him further access to his more favorable abilities. Such as the Remote Viewing he was about to perform, should his current companion not stop him. This would hopefully get him an opportunity to scout ahead and make certain of their entrance's validity before they struck.

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#, as written by Smeath
"Well it was this, or nothing. And nobody will pay attention to me this way." the Kiffar retorts, as his vision sweeps through the Northerner's most likely path. Although things got a bit hazy, he could tell just how many people there'd be on his way through. It wouldn't exactly be the easiest of infiltrations, but it wouldn't be the loudest of infiltrations, either.

"I'm seeing two on your route. One should be coming to the window in ten seconds, the other is waiting outside in the hallways between the upstairs rooms. The first one should be an easy takedown. Just grab him and throw him up to me. Get in there right after, wait at the door, and grab the other one when he gets in. Choke him out, and you'll have a run to the entrance. I'll walk in the front, distract the topside guards under the inspection policy, and by the time you're down there, I'll have them all asleep, provided there's nobody with my level of willpower down there. Then, prepare for a bit of a loud entrance." Torm states, formulating a potential approach for them on-the-fly with relative ease.

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Torm caught the ragdolled guard with ease, hauling him up and quietly covering his mouth. For a moment, all the man would see is the nigh-emotionless expression on his face, before blacking out. Once he was dealt with, Torm quietly sets him aside, sliding him out of view of anybody on the roof. Weapons stripped of him and tossed away into a nearby trash bin.

Once that was dealt with, Torm leapt across to an intersecting roof, and dropped down out of view of the building. For a moment, the Kiffar focused, allowing his small influence on the world to fade, and hiding his face with the race's fairly typical brown robes, before approaching the building. He approaches the guards in front, and when questioned about his presence, he calmly waves his hand, stating that he was here to perform a simple routine inspection. The gesture held more subtle connotations, allowing him the briefest of moments to influence their decision-making patterns, and allow himself past.

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#, as written by Smeath
Torm quietly moved through the Crime Lord's front, talking down or even flat-out taking down the men who stood in his way. All the while, performing deep scans of their minds, and pulling what information they would give with the amount of force he was providing.

Granted, he was fairly willful when it came to these types of situations, but some would find the force he thrust upon the minds of these men to be perhaps a little excessive. However, he saw it as necessary. A measure needed to get the job done. Particularly so when he discovered just what kinds of criminal activities were going on beneath the building. Drugs, debauchery, all manner of hedonistic activities, harmful or otherwise. Then, moments later, he came to the stairway leading down, and followed it, carrying one of the men from upstairs by his shirt collar.

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"And judging from the information I'm pulling from your men, assassination doesn't seem to be the end of it." Torm adds, walking down the stairs and setting aside the semi-conscious worker he was carrying. The Kiffar quietly taps the man on the head, noting "You have much to account for, Ottaga Boff. I do not blame you for following the nature of every sentient and sapient, but Jaek is correct. You're under arrest."

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Torm simply stands at the Northerner's side, already drawing his weapon. This was going to take some doing, particularly if the Minotaur decided to lead the fight off with a charge. Size meant nothing to him, but velocity certainly did. Minotaur could get up and charge quickly, almost as fast as a Kiffar could concentrate to get a hold of them. It would take some doing indeed.

Torm was visibly sizing up every single individual in the room in a manner of moments, going straight from Ottaga to the next goon closest to him, flicking his gaze back-and-forth as he took the measure of each of them as best he could, doubtless the fighting would take mere minutes to begin, and he wanted to study up on his targets as soon as possible before he so much as ignited his blade.

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#, as written by Smeath
Torm steps forward alongside his cold compadre, drawing his weapon and igniting its cool silver-and-blue blade. He calmly states "Justice is blind, but revenge is only missing one eye." and readies his poise. The Kiffar is already staring holes into the Minotaur second in command. This one would be his first target, he was ready to cut this room apart man-by-man, starting with this particular man.

He was tensed up like taught rope, ready to snap at any second, ready to let loose all that energy he was bundling up. This minotaur was marked, and if he was at all paying attention, he knew it.

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#, as written by Smeath
Tom could sense the blow seconds before it came, and that was all the time he'd needed to throw himself backwards and ignite his weapon. The telepath lands with a light clack and engages the two men to his sides, parrying a bright-orange humanoid's broad strokes with a broadsword, before stepping to the side and dishing out an off-hand strike to his head, providing enough blunt force to put him unconscious, but not kill him. These men were to receive justice, not mindless death.

Next, he approaches a well-muscled, red-skinned humanoid with a handaxe. He side-steps his opponent's first blow, an overhead strike, ducks under a horizontal cut, and simply brings his weapon up, cutting off the head of the axe before delivering a swift kick into his chest, sending him flying backwards into a now-split table.

After a moment, he spins to focus on the Minotaur, weapon raised.

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Torm was already anticipating the shot, despite the quiet nature and rather theatrical timing of the gunshot. Torm almost wanted to take the bullet so the Minotaur wouldn't be disappointed in his choice of tactical decision. However, that did not mean he wouldn't stop it. The psychic shifts to his right, his sliding footwork affording him the reach to slip the blade of his emitter into the path of the bullet, which melted on impact with his weapon, sending a splotch of melted lead off to collide with a wall or an unfortunate victim elsewhere.

Should Tehran fire a second time before he could reach out and grasp the bull's gun, Torm would simply deflect it with a small sheet of energy, which would send it glancing off to the side. Once Torm had thoroughly avoided melted lead, he reached out with his mind and grasped the Minotaur's gun, before throwing it sideways, attempting to rip it out of his grasp and send it skittering off to the side.

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Torm deflected many of the shots send his way, using the other additions to the fray as cover whilst engaging them as well, forcing Tehran to cease fire for a few moments to give him an opening. After quickly dispatching his most recent opponent, Torm picks him up by the shirt, and throws him at Tehran with a hefty velocity. The Psychic uses this forced lapse in fire to rush the minotaur, blade humming through the air.

Once he'd gotten up close, he went for a vertical blow, bringing his weapon upwards to hopefully cut through the barrel of the minotaur's weapon, if not simply take him down with a moderately deep cut across the torso.

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Torm is unsurprised when the minotaur uses his accomplice as a shield, he assumed that would happen. However, what did catch him off-guard was the immediate sucker-punch to the side of his head upon being spun sideways. Granted, the body of the brute did not split, but he was certainly impaled by the weapon. When the brute fell by the wayside, it took Torm's weapon with it, deactivating mid-fall for a nice fling across the room, only to clatter against a wall, a light-blue smoke wafting from the weapon.

Suddenly weaponless, Torm is caught momentarily out of the loop when he takes that blow to the head. However, he recovers quickly. Rather than being ragdolled to a distance, like the minotaur had likely been thinking, the Psychic instead turns on his opponent. For a moment, there is a vacuous sound, as if the air itself was being sucked away in a moment. Before he raises both hands, fingertips splayed forward, unleashing a burst of electrokinetic energy, shocking Tehran with a furious amount of bright blue lightning. The sudden shock, and the sudden convulsion of his muscles, would likely fling the gun from his opponent's hands. Granted, even if he held onto it, the voltage would not only cause him more harm than simply tossing the weapon (both due to the additional conductivity of electricity into his hands, and the potential nerve damage of forcing himself to grip a metal object being electrocuted. The latter being potentially permanent.), but the barrel was now warped by the sudden transfer of energy and heat and the rifling was ruined, rendering it useless and even outright hazardous to attempt to fire for fear of simply detonating.

After a moment, the Kiffar takes a step back, breathing in a slightly more labored manner than before, and says "If you give up now, I promise you some leniency in the court. Don't make this worse for us both." It was fairly clear the psychic still had much of his strength left, but perhaps there was something he knew that the minotaur didn't. Maybe that burst of energy made him weaker in some fashion.

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#, as written by Smeath
As Tehran charged him, the psychic was prepared. However, doubtless to the surprise of the charging bull, he did not evade his opponent. Instead, he caught him and stopped him dead in his tracks. The Kiffar had the bull's horns in his grip, and was actively pressuring his head downward, held for just a moment to speak "Warned you." before delivering a vicious knee to his opponent's jaw, which would no doubt send him stumbling backwards. A moment later, Torm spins around for a vicious kick to send his opponent sprawling.

Either he would beat this bull at his own game and demoralize him, or he'd break him by hand if necessary. Lethal force was always the last answer.

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Torm calmly reaches his hand out, and his weapon jumps from its location on the floor into his grasp. For a moment, it ignites, before he simply shuts it down and affixes it to his belt. All the while, gazing around at the people surrounding them. With his weapon retrieved, now he had options. His first move, deal with the gaggle of idiots who decided to stand around a telepath who has achieved any manifestation of telekinetic ability, and expect to be fine.

The Kiffar starts walking toward the minotaur, calmly taking steps, hands in fists. His gait was surprisingly intimidating for someone with such a deceptively thin frame. He wasn't charging this creature, that would be stupid on a multitude of levels for someone of his stature and natural physical strength. No, he was just going to walk up and punch Tehran through a wall, or a ceiling, it didn't matter at this point.