Lobo

"The most redonkulously awesome Lizardman ever. Period." -Div

Mekoot Lob'o is not amused.

Race: Lizardman
Realm: Dur-Demarion
Slave Name: Trevor S. Johnson
Started: Summer '03
Unit: Horde
Weapon of Choice: Spear

Hailing from the harsh, sweltering jungles of Lustria is the lizardman known in the Horde as Lob'o. Born in an ancient spawning pool on the Great Fuming Serpent many centuries ago, the Skink Priest rose to infamy among Lizardman society. Blessed with the prophetic white hide, Lob'o quickly rose to become a great spiritual leader as one of the few Lizardman Priests. Lob'o witnessed firsthand the coming of Sotek and the eradication of the Skaven from Lustria. After learning that their homeland was under attack on multiple fronts, the Lizardmen realized that diplomacy would be needed to secure their jungle home for centuries to come. The time had come to forge relationships with other races of the World. A small band of the greatest Lizardman warriors was dispatched to the world outside of Lustria -- a world never before seen by reptilian eyes. This diplomatic trek was not without hardships, however, and many Lizardmen died in the process. Among the survivors was Lob'o, who always kept faith that the mighty Sotek would lead them true. Making their way through the vast Elven forests, the sprawling Dwarven mountains, and the great Human plains, the Lizardmen found no solace. Having tangled with Humans in the past, no trust was to be found there. Anyone that would ally themselves with these encroachers was certainly no friend of the Lizardmen either. All they had were each other...that is until they made their way to the far East...

"(I fear this campaign could be a failure. We have ventured for over three lunar cycles at this point with no sign of what we have come here for. While scouting this land for assistance we have found nothing but more pink-skinned aggressors and harsh environments. We are not used to these conditions -- I miss the comfort of the jungles and marshes back in Lustria. Why must we place so much faith in those slovenly, arrogant Slann? They were wrong before, so why not now? I'm still not convinced that they have adopted the teachings of Sotek. Witnessing something more powerful than they can't be a boost for their morale. So, when the opportunity presents itself to be rid of Sotek's most loyal subject, Lob'o of The Great Fuming Serpent, I imagine they jumped at it quicker than the wart-infested toads they represent. What better way than to send him, along with fifty of his most loyal followers, into the vast wilderness to die? Furthermore...)"

Darvax: "(Lob'o, up ahead! It sounds like a battle of some type!)"
Lob'o: "(Investigate, but do not alert them to our presence! With our numbers as low as they are, I don't want to make any foolish mistakes. Not another one us dies! Fall into scouting positions! Huanchi guide us.)"

"(The sound of clanging swords is all I need right now. But, at least the conditions are tolerable. I couldn't stand another trek through the white-covered mountains. Not only does it freeze our already cold blood solid, but we were ambushed by short, long-haired pinkies wielding their giant, sharp hunks of metal. Because of them we lost thirteen more of our brothers -- they will pay. I will eat their puny, red hearts while they pray for Sotek's forgiveness.)"

Lob'o: (Finally gazing upon the battle) "(More pinkskins! The same type that have been raiding our sacred temples!)" (Getting closer) "(But the creatures they are fighting...I do not recognize them. They are quite small and their skin appears to be a mixture of green and earth -- almost like they grew right out of the ground itself! Darvax, do you recognize these creatures?)"
Darvax: "(No, Lob'o, but anyone fighting these pinkskins can't be all bad. I say we take out our aggression and frustration while the opportunity presents itself! These pinkskins have been nothing but a thorn in our sides since we landed upon this forsaken World. We must release the fury and anger of Sotek against these pink scum if only to avenge our fallen brothers!)"
Lob'o: "(You are too quick to jump into battle, Darvax -- calm yourself. I will not risk losing another old child. So far these small, green fellows appear to be holding them at bay. I'm taking particular interest in the largest of them -- the one wearing the hat who appears to be doing nothing but barking orders.)"
Darvax: "(Yes, and he just looked over here.)"
Lob'o: "(What? Impossible! We're hiding.)"
Izareth: "Hey, you!"
Lo'bo: "(Don't say anything.)"
Izareth: "You lizards! I see you, you know!"
Darvax: "(I told you.)"
Lob'o: (Coming from behind the bushes) "(No use hiding now. Draw your weapons! Approach with caution, brothers!)"
Izareth: "What, you don't trust me?"
Lob'o: (Getting closer) "(You understand Lustrian?)"
Izareth: "Sure, Lizardman, but that's not important right now. I am Izareth Voldranai ak ni Rered Naw of the Closed Door Tribe."

(Suddenly, another of the small, green creatures falls dead beside Lob'o's feet -- slain by one of the Humans. Izareth is either unaware or unaffected by this -- most likely the latter.)

Izareth: "You are far away from home, Lizardman."
Lob'o: "(This is true, we have travelled many moons to make it to this land. Are you not concerned with the battle at hand?)"
Izareth: (Looking Lob'o up and down) "What? Oh, sure. Listen, Lizardman, your presence here is very intriguing to me. It is not uncommon to see an upstanding goblyn such as myself wandering these particular forests. But, an old child from the lands of Lustria? Yes, very intriguing indeed."
Lob'o: "(Wait, I never mentioned anything about Lustria. How is it that...)"

(Another green-skinned creature hits the ground like a bloody, limp ragdoll. But not before screaming "Izareth!")

Lob'o: "(It appears your fellow...goblyns are losing number rather quickly. Perhaps we should...)"
Izareth: (Indifferent to the battle) "Oh, they're fine. Isn't it funny how a minor disagreement over some small trinkets can become heated, and so quickly? Say for instance I start fiddling around in your pouches like so...(starts reaching into the pouches attached to Lob'o's waist)
Darvax: (Draws sword) "(Hands off!)"
Izareth: "And now we have a friendly dispute." (Also draws a sword)
Darvax: "(Not wise.)"
Izareth: "Maybe not for you, red-skin."
Lob'o: (Stepping in before a fight begins) "(Darvax, please. What exactly is your point, Izareth?)"
Izareth: "I think you just proved it. One minute you're minding your own business, rustling around in someone else's belongings. Next thing you know they're after your head. Am I not allowed to share in the wealth of others? I'm a living creature, no? With needs we all share. I just happen to have a more practical approach to earning wealth. Cut out the middle man, sometimes literally, and avoid breaking your own back. Is that so wrong, Lizardman? Should I be punished for only trying to survive in this harsh World?"
Lob'o: "(Umm...)"

(Another goblyn hits the ground. "Aaayyyeeeuughhh!")

Izareth: "Hey! Can't you see we're trying to have a conversation here! Forgive my loud, impetuous friends, Lizardman. Oh, pardon my manners, what is your name, scaled-one? All this time we've been getting to know each other and I haven't even dispensed with the common formalities."
Lob'o: "(Yes, well, I am Lob'o of the Great Fuming Serpent. Servant and High Priest of Sotek, savior of the Children of the Old Ones. My war party and I have travelled to these lands seeking...)"
Izareth: Lob'o. Great. Listen, it's obvious you've come here seeking something. As fate would have it, you've encountered me and my skryll. Normally we would have brought a blade down your backs before you knew we were there."
Darvax: "Hrmmph!"
Izareth: "But, I see something in you, Lizardman. Perhaps you even see you in me as well". Lob'o: "(What?)"
Izareth: "Nothing. I have been in search of a new means lately. These lands are dying and it's becoming increasingly more difficult to live the life of excess I have become so accustomed to. These pink-skins are growing like cabbages while my skryll is down to meager proportions. I can longer rely solely on my own kin alone to serve my purposes."

("Izareth, you treacherous dog! Aaeeuugh!" The last goblyn falls victim to the Humans--who now turn their attention towards Izareth and the Lizardmen and begin advancement.)

Lob'o: "(What exactly are you saying, Izareth?)"
Izareth: "I'm saying my goblyns are now all dead and I now need the help to kill these Humans I tried to raid. You in?"
Lob'o: (Looks around to his fellow Lizardmen.)
Darvax: "(It's about time! YAAAA!)" (Darvax thrusts his dual-swords into the chest of the first advancing Human. All out war soon follows as Human limbs and heads begin flying in all directions. A final blow is delivered by Lob'o himself, smashing his mace upon the brow of the party leader, crushing his head like a pumpkin.)

Izareth: "You and your kin fight well, Lob'o. Naturally without my guidance you would have surely perished at the hands of these pinkies. I have a knack for harnessing the absolute full potential of the abilities of others, yes?"
Lob'o: "(Well, actually...)"
Izareth: "Please help yourself to the spoils of war, after my cut of course. Do follow me once you are finished, we have much to discuss concerning this new "band" I've started."
Lob'o: "(New band?)"
Izareth: "Yes, the one we just started. Now come, my head is spinning far too fast for this barrage of questions. Follow." (Izareth begins down the path.)
Lob'o: (Turning to Darvax) "(Darvax, what say you? Do we trust this mad hatted-creature or continue on?)" Darvax: "(Trust? Not on your life. I doubt this is what the prophetic ones saw in their visions. However, he's the only one that hasn't attempted to lob our heads off either. I doubt he has our interests in mind for this "opreration" he's formulating, but there's nothing that says we can't use this to serve our purposes either.)"
Lob'o: "(Indeed. Besides, there's something about this goblyn I can't quite grasp. It's almost as if he's been where we've been--I can't shake the feeling we're connected some how. But, we'll discuss this later, he's not aware we're not on his heels right now. Children! Fall in line! Behind the goblyn!")

The rest is history.