The Umbral Warlord
S’imba took in several deep breaths clutching a deep slash across his chest. Looking down on the white haired female he had just defeated in a sparring match of the falling stars. From what he understood normally the other warlords of the falling stars didn’t spar due to the possibility of being defeated. However S’imba felt that as an outsider he needed to continually prove himself. To remind them why X’zarann had chosen him to be the warlord of the golden prints. He also sought to stand out among them. Though it did tend to mean he ended up with quite a few extra injuries, and the battles were never easy. Suddenly there was a loud shout at the door to their warehouse. It sounded hostile. With a growl S’imba walked over to the entrance and pulled the door back.
Outside there was a little Lalafell Thaumaturge with a pencil thin mustache with a pair of Roe thugs that had their swords drawn.
“Ah greetings, Mongoloidian Tribal.†The Thaumaturge said in a surprisingly smooth voice that had an extremely matter of fact business like tone to it. “We represent a group of concerned citizens that have taken issue with your residence here. We ask that you surrender yourselves to the proper authorities concerning your various criminal activities.â€
“You must be mistaken.†S’imba growled at the Lalafell, clutching the wound on his chest. “We’re just a band of strays that have sought refuge to raise our young.â€
The lalafell gave a sneer. “Regardless you are all a blight on our fair city, and it falls to me to see it cleansed.â€
S’imba narrowed his eyes, baring his fangs. Acting slightly more aggressive than normal to keep up his appearances as the rest of the golden prints watched the scene unfold. “I think you would be wise to turn and walk the other way, outsider.†He said with a growl. “Unless you wish to have your very soul torn from your body to burn for an eternity in the depths of the abyss.â€
The Lalafell grinned. “Do not try to intimidate me with your tribal superstitions, cat. I am no stranger to dabbling in darkness.â€
S’imba twisted his lips into a sneer, putting on the best show he could. Trying to appear as dark and over the top edgy as he could. “Cute, but you should know that -I- am darkness itself, I wield power that you could merely dream of.â€
The lalafell sighed and gestured to the Roe on either side of him. “Kill him then seal the door so I can burn this eyesore and the vermin inside to the ground.â€
The Roe nodded and took a step towards S’imba. They drew their swords and continued advancing.
“So you have elected destruction and damnation?†S’imba said with a shake of his head, flicks his wrists, and raised his palm towards them. Without another word he fired a red bolt at them that exploded in a burst of red aether, ripping the aether from their bodies and causing both to fall lifeless to the ground.
The Lalafell stared in horror as his men fell. Losing his composure he simply turned to flee as fast as he could. S’imba was tempted to finish him but decided against it. Turning to walk back inside he without a word to the others he made his way to a back office that he had fashioned into a sort of personal chamber for himself. He’d filled it with various trophies from his adventures to at least try and look the part of warlord. While it certainly wasn’t as extravagant as the Nunh’s personal chambers S’imba couldn’t help feel a bit proud of it. Even if most of it was just stupid junk and a bunch of fancy swords he had collected.
He shut the door behind himself and gave a sigh. This whole act tended to be exhausting, spending so much time trying to be this terrifying being. Thankfully all that time he had spent with Sven gave him plenty of intimidating dialogue to draw on. Mixed with trying to emulate X’zarann he felt he hoped he was at least having some success. He spent much of his time acting like he was some kind of deity like X’zarann, that this “abyss†he wielded was a power that was the opposite of the Nunh’s radiance. If he could get them to see him as some sort of dark god of destruction maybe they would stop worshipping X’zarann to offer their prayers to the new deity. Hopefully to weaken X’zarann from making his ascension. Since S’imba had no intention of using their prayers to gain power he felt he didn’t have to worry if the sept actually started worshiping him, they may as well pray to a statue of Halone. He walked over and grabbed some bandaging, starting to treat his wounds and gave a heavy sigh. “It’s really hard to try and be a god.†He muttered to himself.
S’imba took in several deep breaths clutching a deep slash across his chest. Looking down on the white haired female he had just defeated in a sparring match of the falling stars. From what he understood normally the other warlords of the falling stars didn’t spar due to the possibility of being defeated. However S’imba felt that as an outsider he needed to continually prove himself. To remind them why X’zarann had chosen him to be the warlord of the golden prints. He also sought to stand out among them. Though it did tend to mean he ended up with quite a few extra injuries, and the battles were never easy. Suddenly there was a loud shout at the door to their warehouse. It sounded hostile. With a growl S’imba walked over to the entrance and pulled the door back.
Outside there was a little Lalafell Thaumaturge with a pencil thin mustache with a pair of Roe thugs that had their swords drawn.
“Ah greetings, Mongoloidian Tribal.†The Thaumaturge said in a surprisingly smooth voice that had an extremely matter of fact business like tone to it. “We represent a group of concerned citizens that have taken issue with your residence here. We ask that you surrender yourselves to the proper authorities concerning your various criminal activities.â€
“You must be mistaken.†S’imba growled at the Lalafell, clutching the wound on his chest. “We’re just a band of strays that have sought refuge to raise our young.â€
The lalafell gave a sneer. “Regardless you are all a blight on our fair city, and it falls to me to see it cleansed.â€
S’imba narrowed his eyes, baring his fangs. Acting slightly more aggressive than normal to keep up his appearances as the rest of the golden prints watched the scene unfold. “I think you would be wise to turn and walk the other way, outsider.†He said with a growl. “Unless you wish to have your very soul torn from your body to burn for an eternity in the depths of the abyss.â€
The Lalafell grinned. “Do not try to intimidate me with your tribal superstitions, cat. I am no stranger to dabbling in darkness.â€
S’imba twisted his lips into a sneer, putting on the best show he could. Trying to appear as dark and over the top edgy as he could. “Cute, but you should know that -I- am darkness itself, I wield power that you could merely dream of.â€
The lalafell sighed and gestured to the Roe on either side of him. “Kill him then seal the door so I can burn this eyesore and the vermin inside to the ground.â€
The Roe nodded and took a step towards S’imba. They drew their swords and continued advancing.
“So you have elected destruction and damnation?†S’imba said with a shake of his head, flicks his wrists, and raised his palm towards them. Without another word he fired a red bolt at them that exploded in a burst of red aether, ripping the aether from their bodies and causing both to fall lifeless to the ground.
The Lalafell stared in horror as his men fell. Losing his composure he simply turned to flee as fast as he could. S’imba was tempted to finish him but decided against it. Turning to walk back inside he without a word to the others he made his way to a back office that he had fashioned into a sort of personal chamber for himself. He’d filled it with various trophies from his adventures to at least try and look the part of warlord. While it certainly wasn’t as extravagant as the Nunh’s personal chambers S’imba couldn’t help feel a bit proud of it. Even if most of it was just stupid junk and a bunch of fancy swords he had collected.
He shut the door behind himself and gave a sigh. This whole act tended to be exhausting, spending so much time trying to be this terrifying being. Thankfully all that time he had spent with Sven gave him plenty of intimidating dialogue to draw on. Mixed with trying to emulate X’zarann he felt he hoped he was at least having some success. He spent much of his time acting like he was some kind of deity like X’zarann, that this “abyss†he wielded was a power that was the opposite of the Nunh’s radiance. If he could get them to see him as some sort of dark god of destruction maybe they would stop worshipping X’zarann to offer their prayers to the new deity. Hopefully to weaken X’zarann from making his ascension. Since S’imba had no intention of using their prayers to gain power he felt he didn’t have to worry if the sept actually started worshiping him, they may as well pray to a statue of Halone. He walked over and grabbed some bandaging, starting to treat his wounds and gave a heavy sigh. “It’s really hard to try and be a god.†He muttered to himself.
Wikis       Â
S'imba Tia S'imba Fate-14 Sheet                Â
K'ovu Tia
Mateus character:Â Simb'a Sarabi
S'imba Tia S'imba Fate-14 Sheet                Â
K'ovu Tia
Mateus character:Â Simb'a Sarabi
