08-06-2015, 05:07 PM
Shang scowled as he turned his attention away from the two ‘sparring’ warriors. The sorcerer was all for mortal combat every now and again, but he was never one to just wantonly want to batter around strangers or have someone swing a kusarigama at his head.
Turning his focus from the bout between the Grecian and the green man, the sorcerer took note of other individuals crowded into the vicinity. They all seemed unique in some way or another, but none of them seemed to stand out. There were some more green people, a dog-looking creature, and a few individuals who looked like they were no more than twenty years old.
Nothing impressive.
As they often did at this point in time, Shang’s thoughts moved to Darkshire. Once they were finished here in the Tangled Green, they’d have to return to the Pale Moors. Given their recent accomplishments and the dearth of champions, the sorcerer expected that they would be hailed as heroes, which was fine by him. With the resources of that place at his disposal, Shang knew he could accomplish whatever he set out to do in the Omniverse. Having met with the actual creator of this place, the sorcerer’s beliefs had all been vindicated—there was no return.
It felt weird to think that he was little more than a carefully crafted replication, spawned by some weird little creature with the mannerisms of an overgrown child. With the knowledge that the real Shang Tsung was either dead or rotting away in a dungeon in Outworld, this Shang felt the most freedom he’d ever felt since his days as a mere human.
What could stop him? As long as he continued to amuse some creature in the sky, he’d be immortal, with death just a temporary setback to anything he wanted to plan. And banishment? Shang had lived in the Netherrealm for a decade… he had nothing to fear from demons and monsters.
The Omniverse was his tabula rasa, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to paint the picture he wanted. No one would stand in his way.
Turning his focus from the bout between the Grecian and the green man, the sorcerer took note of other individuals crowded into the vicinity. They all seemed unique in some way or another, but none of them seemed to stand out. There were some more green people, a dog-looking creature, and a few individuals who looked like they were no more than twenty years old.
Nothing impressive.
As they often did at this point in time, Shang’s thoughts moved to Darkshire. Once they were finished here in the Tangled Green, they’d have to return to the Pale Moors. Given their recent accomplishments and the dearth of champions, the sorcerer expected that they would be hailed as heroes, which was fine by him. With the resources of that place at his disposal, Shang knew he could accomplish whatever he set out to do in the Omniverse. Having met with the actual creator of this place, the sorcerer’s beliefs had all been vindicated—there was no return.
It felt weird to think that he was little more than a carefully crafted replication, spawned by some weird little creature with the mannerisms of an overgrown child. With the knowledge that the real Shang Tsung was either dead or rotting away in a dungeon in Outworld, this Shang felt the most freedom he’d ever felt since his days as a mere human.
What could stop him? As long as he continued to amuse some creature in the sky, he’d be immortal, with death just a temporary setback to anything he wanted to plan. And banishment? Shang had lived in the Netherrealm for a decade… he had nothing to fear from demons and monsters.
The Omniverse was his tabula rasa, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to paint the picture he wanted. No one would stand in his way.
![[Image: Shang.jpg]](http://www.omniverse-rpg.com/images/Shang.jpg)