Tengshe Lo (羅騰蛇) is pandaren monk and quixotic youxia. He is known by some for his philosophy of heroic apotheosis, in which it is the duty of heroes to transform themselves into something like gods in order to rid the world at long last of the Old Gods and their remnants.
“There is only one evil in the world. One evil with many faces,” Tengshe Lo’s father Zhichuan used to advise him.
But Tengshe has heard enough stories from older generations on the Wandering Isle to know that what his father told him wasn’t true — there were other malefic beings like Y’Shaarj, buried throughout Azeroth. And probably still are.
These Laoshen were ultimately responsible for nearly every ill, every negative emotion, every divergence from ziran — that primordial state of naturalness and simplicity once common to all things, free of all selfishness and desire. Kill the Laoshen, Tengshe reasons, and one can return the universe to the edenic balance it once had.
To do that, Tengshe has committed his every waking moment to transforming himself into a wuxian, an enlightened, super-pandaren and immortal martial hero — one that could, with help if not alone, find and destroy all Laoshen and their remnants.
Growing up, some of Tengshe’s fellow pandaren used to make fun of him for his hubristic ambitions, and mockingly called him Shen-Shashou, or God-Killer. But Tengshe believed the stories the older pandaren used to tell — even if the older pandaren themselves didn’t — in which mortal foreigners brought down a Laoshen buried in sand, and another in snow.
And if unenlightened foreigners could do that, was there anything a pandaren wuxian couldn’t?
On the surface, Tengshe is much like any other pandaren in that he’s a cheerfully serene epicure who measures time by the great meals he’s had and is a bottomless source of ancient, folksy wisdom that he mostly makes up.
But Tengshe also harbors a grandiose sense of destiny and purpose: he was put on this earth not just to fight evil wherever it lurks, but to slay the source of all evil — the mysterious, chthonic Old Gods. And in this capacity Tengshe assumes a different persona altogether — a grim, vindicator-like avenging angel, one who talks to himself in a continuous heroic narrative:
He stands in silence — stoic, godlike — the mysterious rotund avenger who has become legend to the simple folk of this noodle hut. But glory will not distract him from his vigil.
The wuxian’s righteous rage echoes through the hills.
The wuxian’s courage burns everlasting.
And also to others:
Who am I, fruit vendor? I am the avenging blade in the shadows. The front line in a never-ending battle between good and not-so-good. Together with my associates in The Sodality, we form the yin to villainy’s malevolent yang. Destiny has chosen us. Wicked woman, you face The God-Killer.
Still, Tengshe remains a pandaren at his core, and sometimes his Bruce Wayne intrudes on his Batman:
Now I am become Death, the destroyer of — ooh, cookies!