Harrigan Zhent, Imperial Psyker
Zhent was tired. This was meant to have been a simple message run. But first there was the bloodbath. Then that ... thing ... invading him. And now that they'd finally rid themselves of the cursed thing, this new whoever-he-was, locked on and ready for more trouble. Then there was the street rabble milling about, smelling of taint and corruption and not one of them feeling how their own nasty souls fed the hungry mouths of the warp.
The greasy souls, yes, they are lovely
But, God-Emporer save him, he was most tired of holding that hungry warp at bay.
So very, very hungry
Guns or bombs, everyone here would see. But if he was careful. If he just let go a little, he could give them all a head start without any of these filthy meatsacks knowing what had happened.
Quieter than mice or lice or plague, yes, if you only let us...
Fine Zhent thinks, his cold gaze falling on the man who had the misfortune of paying him attention. Him. Show him what you are.
He feels the power surge forth through him, revels in it, in fact, as his mind reaches out to snag the other's nerves and pull them like nothing more than puppet strings. The young psyker feels the surge of power and twists...
[sblock=ooc]Trying this psychic stuff again. Hopefully I've got it right. Hoping Spasm might provide enough delay / distraction that the party can either make a break for it or ready themselves.
Psy Rating 2 = 2d10
Will bonus = +5
Power Threshold = 7
ETA: Saved by fate...[/sblock]