Former General of the Scythe of the Sun division.
- Eyes
- Amber flame
- Hair
- Bison style horns
- Skin Tone/Pigmentation
- Brass
- Height
- 6'2"
- Weight
- 260lbs
The desert sun bakes Mubeasau's gilded minarets, but on the obsidian rooftops, General Xylax, commander of the Zluugka's Scythe of the Sun, basks in its warmth like a sun-baked rock. He is dragonborn, not of metallic sheen or chromatic fire, but of the desert's own essence - sun-forged bronze scales whispering ancient secrets, his horns curving like the horns of desert gazelles.
Scales like Shimmering Dunes: Beneath the midday sun, Xylax's scales shift from ochre to molten gold, mimicking the ever-shifting sands. Sand clings to the ridges and cracks, a reminder of his ancestral home beyond the shimmering mirage of Mubeasau. Scars, etching their stories across his hide, speak of skirmishes won and battles endured, each a testament to his warrior's spirit.
Eyes Glowing with Embers: His eyes, burning like desert emeralds, pierce through the gilded city's façade, sensing the greed and despair simmering beneath the opulent surface. Yet, within their depths, flicker embers of a deeper fire - a quiet yearning for the vastness of the desert, for the wind whipping through his scales, for the freedom he left behind to guard this gilded cage.
A Tongue of Steel and Sand: While Zluugka clicks and hisses flow easily from his lips, Xylax speaks Mubeasau with a desert-forged smoothness. His words, laced with dry wit and veiled barbs, cut through the city's flattery and deceit. He navigates its perfumed-laced alleys with the detached grace of a predator amidst prey, a silent judge observing the city's decadent rituals with amusement tinged with contempt.
Duty's Sun, Pleasure's Moon: The Scythe of the Sun hangs heavy on his shoulders, a constant reminder of his mission - to control, not succumb. He navigates Mubeasau's gilded temptations with an ironclad will, indulging only in strategically placed bouts of pleasure, lest the city's siren song lull him into its embrace. In the plush courtyards and smoky dens, he gathers intel, observes power plays, and cultivates alliances, all while playing the city's seductive game with a dragonborn's poker face.
Will the Sun Rise or Set?: General Xylax, a son of the desert trapped in a gilded cage, stands at a crossroads. Will he remain loyal to the Zluugka, maintaining their iron grip on Mubeasau even as it chips away at his soul? Or will he succumb to the city's seductive whispers, trading his desert pride for gilded pleasures and sun-drenched oblivion? Only the ever-shifting sands of Mubeasau hold the answer, waiting to be revealed in the dance between a dragonborn's duty and the city's intoxicating desires.
Scales like Shimmering Dunes: Beneath the midday sun, Xylax's scales shift from ochre to molten gold, mimicking the ever-shifting sands. Sand clings to the ridges and cracks, a reminder of his ancestral home beyond the shimmering mirage of Mubeasau. Scars, etching their stories across his hide, speak of skirmishes won and battles endured, each a testament to his warrior's spirit.
Eyes Glowing with Embers: His eyes, burning like desert emeralds, pierce through the gilded city's façade, sensing the greed and despair simmering beneath the opulent surface. Yet, within their depths, flicker embers of a deeper fire - a quiet yearning for the vastness of the desert, for the wind whipping through his scales, for the freedom he left behind to guard this gilded cage.
A Tongue of Steel and Sand: While Zluugka clicks and hisses flow easily from his lips, Xylax speaks Mubeasau with a desert-forged smoothness. His words, laced with dry wit and veiled barbs, cut through the city's flattery and deceit. He navigates its perfumed-laced alleys with the detached grace of a predator amidst prey, a silent judge observing the city's decadent rituals with amusement tinged with contempt.
Duty's Sun, Pleasure's Moon: The Scythe of the Sun hangs heavy on his shoulders, a constant reminder of his mission - to control, not succumb. He navigates Mubeasau's gilded temptations with an ironclad will, indulging only in strategically placed bouts of pleasure, lest the city's siren song lull him into its embrace. In the plush courtyards and smoky dens, he gathers intel, observes power plays, and cultivates alliances, all while playing the city's seductive game with a dragonborn's poker face.
Will the Sun Rise or Set?: General Xylax, a son of the desert trapped in a gilded cage, stands at a crossroads. Will he remain loyal to the Zluugka, maintaining their iron grip on Mubeasau even as it chips away at his soul? Or will he succumb to the city's seductive whispers, trading his desert pride for gilded pleasures and sun-drenched oblivion? Only the ever-shifting sands of Mubeasau hold the answer, waiting to be revealed in the dance between a dragonborn's duty and the city's intoxicating desires.
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