Description
“AGAIN!”
--- Bio
Full Name: Torsten
Pronunciation: TORSH-ten
Alias: “Sir.”
Meaning: Swedish variant of Þórsteinn, meaning "Thor's stone" (not that it holds any relevance)
Age: 52 years
Sex / Gender: Male / Stallion
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Build: Swedish Warmblood
Species: Pegasus (Bat)
Height: 17 hands
----- Ties
Born Within: Talori
Loyal To: Perseus / Freedom’s Flight faction of the Vagabonds.
Rank: Trainer
Patron God: Alya
Blessings: Sonic Voice (LOCKED)
Talent: Weapon Master
---Family
Sire: Magnus (deceased, 78)
Dam: Jessa (deceased, 72)
Siblings: none
Spouse: Lisbet (deceased, 42)
Relationship: Widower; Single
Offspring: Clark (deceased, 22)
History: (first to better understand his personality)
Torsten’s aversion to disclosing his life story has lead to rumors circulating the palomino weapon master. One suggests he learned his trade after being sold to the pits of Aodh, street fighting under the eyes of the wealthy. Another that he was a feared barbaric Raider, braving the mountains and cruel snow of Onea. The pegasus neither confirms nor denies these claims, as any fabrication is less shameful to him than the actual truth
0-10
Torsten grew into his legs as any other tenderfoot would, his parents an arranged match in Talori fashion. Jessa was a timid yet lovely unicorn whose family held a little more than the average wealth of the second class, and they signed her life away to Magnus, a pegasus, as punishment for her constant disobedience to the family. If she bore a unicorn child, she would be redeemed in the eyes of the family and forgiven by Cascade, but should she produce a pegasus child, she was banished. Magnus was a stern but good-natured stallion who paraded his wife around the surrounding villages, taking her to visit Inaria when deemed appropriate and to watch the Solstice Celebrations. They waited years to bear a child, Jessa balking at the idea until rumors began to spread of their infertility.
Her nightmares were corporealized the moment tiny Torsten stretched his tiny webbed appendages for the first time, sealing her fate at the lower rank of society. Magnus was immediately proud and let Jessa’s wails slide off his back. He had never seen wings like his son’s, and he took it as a sign from Alya that her kind had not been forsaken. With time, he coaxed Jessa into loving the colt as well, and Torsten grew up happy, never knowing he was ever unwanted.
10-20
Magnus was a craftsman, and he took pride in his work building homes, his wings giving him ability to build heights and stories faster than the other species, while Jessa continued on as a brewer, specializing in allergy and common sickness remedies. But Magnus wanted more for his son than the commoner life, pushing young Torsten to train under the Guardians in aim to become one of them. Jessa was skeptical, the Talori wouldn’t trust a pegasus enough to hold their secrets, to protect their borders? But Magnus persisted, seeing Torsten had a knack with his building tools, and an earnestness about him that the Guardians could not ignore.
They did, however, and denied him the rank long after he grew past the age of 15. Anger cropped up in his pubescent heart, and fits of uncontrolled rage began to show themselves. Again, Magnus shielded him and guided him, teaching him discipline and how to channel the rage into productive energy. It would not be until he was 25 that he would finally be accepted as Guardian.
It wasn’t until he was 18 that he witnessed his first Solstice Celebration sacrifice. He was taught to be happy for the chosen, jealous even, as the alternative was too heart-wrenching. It was the only way to cope with such things. He was taught his entire life to worship Alya, but to hold reverence for Cascade as well, lest his name be chosen and he be reincarnated as a hippocampus. At 20, he was married to Lisbet, a pegasus mare he had never spoken two words prior, but whose family held pleasant relations with Magnus and Jessa. He was exuberated to have a wife of his own, something to be proud of as his father was proud of his mother. They got along swimmingly, as good friends might, and Lisbet was pregnant the following year.
20-30
Lisbet and Torsten grew to love each other over time, but he had not realized true and unconditional love until his son was born. Clark was perfection personified, a sooty buckskin pegasus colt with flawless feathered wings. Torsten’s ferocity to protect his family swelled to a peak and he threw himself into his training to become a Guardian with new veracity. Having finally proven himself, at 25 he joined the ranks under a suspicious watch, and trained along those he admired so greatly, including a then pre-Defender Thaumas Anereus.
Torsten trained harder than ever, his superiors recognizing the stallion had been blessed with a deftness for weapons. Scars found their way onto the palomino’s body, and he wore them proudly, going home to explain the story to his toddler son in romantic, glorious detail. Lisbet looked on him proudly, having taken over his mother’s business in Jessa’s retirement, and Magnus praised his son to anyone who would listen. It was during this period that Torsten remembers being truly happy.
Clark was raised in the same manner as Torsten, praise Alya, respect Cascade, but the young colt’s curiosity far outweighed Torsten’s as a child. The colt was once caught wandering around an edge of Kiephis with some friends,, and it was only by the skin of his teeth that Torsten returned home with him, unpunished. It was the same curiosity, that led the foal to Pegasi’s Leap the night Perseus was chosen.
Now 30, Torsten had no plans of his son seeing any sacrifice before he was 18, just as Magnus had done for him, but the curious foal had pulled a houdini once again and Torsten found the 8 year old among the crowd, watching young Perseus as he was paraded through the city. Torsten began herding the colt back home when the ceremony started, and to interrupt or look away was to disgrace the goddess. It was not the first time a Fall had gone badly, but this time was different. Perseus was barely a stallion. The idea that the boy’s mother or father looked on as the scythe was drawn made his stomach lurch. Clark stood between Torsten’s front legs as Perseus suddenly bolted forward and jumped into the abyss.
The sound of him hitting the water sounded off like a crack of thunder, rather than a splash. Raucous noise suddenly filled his ears as the festivities continued, and he turned the little Clark with questioning eyes towards home.
30-40
To keep his developing world from shattering, they explained to Clark the importance and honor it was to be chosen as the sacrifice, the legend that the fallen would return as a child of Cascade, and that there was no higher blessing as a pegasus than to be sacrificed, but for the first time, Torsten doubted it. He had seen the terror in Perseus’s eyes as black wings disappeared over the edge. Where was the glory in that? Was Alya, in fact, supporting the deaths of her children? The palomino shook his head and buried all ill thoughts that arose from that night and never spoke of it again.
Clark grew into a handsome, able-bodied stallion, deciding his calling was agriculturalist, having a talent for tracking and enjoying ventures into the woods in search of herbs and fungi for the brewers. Magnus lived long enough to praise his grandson the way he praised Torsten, but years of construction work had been hard on the stallion and he passed away peacefully at 78. Jessa followed of unknown but seemingly natural causes in the same year.
Torsten was now a mildly respected guardian, and when the Defender was announced as his comrade Thaumas Anereus, he swore he respected no mortal being more than he. New meaning was given into his life and he only saw bright future ahead for his family.
40-current
Lisbet had begun searching for a suitable wife for Clark, who had resisted marriage until he was 22, amusing his father that he “couldn’t decide between all the beautiful mares” but it proved all for naught, as it was Clark’s name that was chosen that winter solstice night.
Much to his parents’ horror, Clark was ecstatic, telling them he had been praying for this day to come ever since that fateful Perseus fall. That he would become the most beautiful hippocampus Aquore had yet seen. Torsten would have none of it, going to the Defender, going to the Divine, pleading to them to take his life in his son’s place. At 44, the palomino had lived long enough, Clark had yet lived at all. His pleas went unheard, it was Cascade’s way, the sacrifice was chosen for a reason. Torsten was to see it as an honor to have raised the sacrifice.
He told Clark to fly away, far from Aquore, but Clark couldn’t understand why his father who had taught him so much about the prestige and honor of this ceremony was suddenly a coward, suddenly turning away from Cascade. Clark turned from him in disgust. Unable to handle the news, Lisbet folded in on herself, chattering to Clark about how he would be the most beautiful of all pegasi to fall, and began brushing his mane to prepare him for the festivities. There was nothing to do now but look on.
The sound of his only son hitting the waves and rocks below wakes him up at night.
The couple looked on through a haze of the fever dream that was their son standing at the cliff’s edge, head high, Alya’s breath streaming through his thick mane. He didn’t even wince as the scythe wrenched through his flawless, strong falcon wings. The tonic made him look delirious as he grinned, looking back once before somersaulting out of view. Lisbet let out a scream. It was the last sign of life Torsten ever saw in her.
Torsten defected from the Guardians and tried to take his wife into the Wilds, into hiding. The once lovely pegasus he married was now hollow-eyed and chitted nonsense to herself at night. He was faring no better internally, kicking himself that he was the reason Clark glorified the Solstice Celebrations, HE chose to fall in line rather than show his son the corruption of the Talorians. Deep down, Torsten knew all along the practice was wrong, and Clark’s words cut him to the core. He was a coward. A coward that looked on when a young Perseus flailed off the cliff in terror, and how many had before him.
He was constantly on the lookout for Lisbet, fighting off predators and those who found them, earning new scars. Each day Lisbet grew more frantic, saying their son was visiting her dreams, pulling her into the sea with him. One day Torsten found her covered in blood, unsure of how she had gotten that way. Eventually, she stopped talking altogether, despite Torsten’s efforts. One night, she wandered off into the darkness. Torsten found her in the morning, drowned in a small pond no deeper than to his chest. His anger rose up in his throat like bile, and he used what few weapons he brought with him to decimate the surrounding area, all the heartbreak of Clark and fury over failing Lisbet unleashed on the large oaks and pines, screaming so hard and loud a tree uprooted (plan on having his sonic voice to level 3 at this point in his life). It did not go unnoticed.
He buried his wife near the hidden shrine of Alya, trekking through the night to find where his father had taught him it stood. Once he had finished, he went to lay in front of the shrine. He did not move for several days.
Torsten was later found by (a member) of the growing Freedom’s Flight faction and brought to Perseus in the Barrier Mountains. Shocked to see the stallion alive, Torsten fell to his knees, consumed by guilt. His son’s face flashed in Perseus’s, and the palomino swore vengeance for Clark through the survivor. He pledged his fealty to Perseus and Freedom’s Flight. He has been a loyal member for 8 years now, enough time to become part of the inner circle as well as trainer to new recruits as the Primary’s army grows.
News of the child sacrifice hit Torsten like a bullet train, resurfacing nightmares and panic attacks he thought were finally quelled by the healing of time. A child Clark falls from the Leap rather than the strapping young stallion. Torsten takes his fury out on his students, riding them harder than ever before that this monstrous act must finally cease. His shame over defecting from the Guardians has turned to hate that the Defender could allow such a heinous act to occur.
A Summary
Torsten harbors heavy guilt believing he failed his son and wife. He also feels shame for turning away from his culture and teachings of his parents. He struggles with the death of his wife as a sign of weakness or sign of strength, as he cannot bear to kill himself. He projects Clark onto Perseus often, seeing the Primary as a son figure who he refuses to let down this time. He sees his own reflection in the faces of his students and that is why he is so unforgiving with their training, they cannot fail or he too shall fail.
Personality:
Relentless | Brutal | Bigoted | Seasoned | Ornery | Brusque | Stoic | Morose | Obsessive | Unstable
From an omniscient perspective, Torsten is a deeply emotional being anchored in loyalty and dedication. His will to persevere is projected onto his students, their failure is his failure. At times he will cross the line drilling and the Bodyguard or Blacksmith will have to reel him back in. His control over his anger is bridled in all other aspects, but during training or alone he tends to go over the line. Is often woken up by night terrors of his wife and child, uses sleeping herbs or booze to a point of abuse to fall asleep. Obsessive compulsive when he has set his mind to something, one goal is simply a step to another. His tastes are very plain and modest, choosing function over fashion. He once had an unyielding respect for the Guardians and the Defender in particular, but that has since been replaced with loathing. Deep down he hopes it is the Defender he faces when the war begins.
Romance is a foreign concept for him, as his arranged marriage was void of that, mirroring a healthy platonic love rather than the awe-inspiring concept of true love. Thus, it is not improbable that he will remarry, but any advances are seen as distractions before the war.
While not every hippocampus is guilty, the casualties should equal those slaughtered in the sacrifices. One hippocampus for every pegasus slain.
Weapons are to be treated like living beings and with the same respect. They may choose to aid or hinder, depending on their mood. A warrior who cannot respect his weapon may fight without any.
Torsten treats everyone within Freedom’s Flight with the same respect within the circumstances. Outside of training, a student will be regarded with the same respect as he would regard the Primary, children are also given this regard. His rhetoric is concise and to-the-point sentences, often coming off as blunt or rude, which he does not mind. If he has nothing to say, he will not say it, and does not hesitate to interrupt someone babbling. He puts on a dauntless face for his faction, as he is the face of war to some, and all must be prepared.
Cowardice is a trigger, the trait he despises the most within himself. When a student or member of the faction shows cowardice, it is the rare time Torsten’s anger breaks loose. He is immediately ashamed if in presence of the Primary, but is often cruel in this state.
Those who are not pegasi that reside within the faction are regarded suspiciously, and he is often forced to meditate and pray to Alya not to show the same prejudice shown to his kind by the Talori.
Amazing design and character art (C) Queerly
+0 ap