[color=f26522]Magnumus Agoston, Centurion.[/color] Level 3 - (2/30) EXP (still thinking of what new power to get) Location: MegaDragonBowser castle Word Count: 470 --- [color=f26522]"Very well. Thank you, Tora." [/color]He said, filled with grim determination. He placed the spirit against his chest, right over his heart, and it vanished within his breastplate. Suddenly he was all alight, and he could see nothing but flames. He cried out in fear, assuming he had totally ignited. But there was no pain, just heat. An uncomfortable level of heat. His helmet shifted, and there was the crunching of metal as two horns burst from his forehead and pierced the flat, steel face of his helm. He felt himself grow larger and stronger. [color=f26522]"Dear God! I'm on fire!"[/color] He called out, attempting to pat out the flames. But they subsided shortly, and the astonished armored warrior was left looking over himself in disbelief. The black pits of his helm's eye holes were now glowing embers. An armored gauntlet came up and gingerly touched the horns. [color=f26522]"Oh, my." [/color]Something felt wrong in his mouth. He ran his tongue over his teeth, and they were sharper. If he had hair, it would be red and spikey. [color=f26522]"I'm a demon."[/color] He mourned regretfully. But he did not feel like sacrificing goats, or pillaging the innocent. He only felt stronger. [color=f26522]"The powers of Hell are granted upon me..."[/color] He clenched his fist, and then sheathed his gladius, which now seemed like a dagger in his hands. [color=f26522]"I'll need a bigger blade."[/color] He mumbled to himself. No, he thought. This was important. [color=f26522]"I need a bigger sword!"[/color] Agoston demanded proudly.[color=f26522]"But now, we feast. A just reward for such a fierce battle."[/color] The Centurion plopped himself down in a chair, the poor piece of furniture almost crumbling beneath his now much larger form. He attempted to remove his helmet, only for the article of armor to be stuck on his horns. Grunting, he tore it off, ruining the poor thing. [color=f26522]"I need another helmet, too. With horn holes."[/color] He wondered if there was a blacksmith. For the first time, everyone could see his face. It was battered, scarred, and rugged from years of conflict, and now his teeth were razor sharp, horns burst from his head and his eyes were burning coals. Were it not for his relaxed body language and face, he could easily be mistaken for some horrible villain. The Centurion rapped his knuckles on the table. [color=f26522]"Come on! A feast! The Princess commands it."[/color] He looked down a Tora and winked. [color=f26522]"And a toast as well. To our fallen friends."[/color] As he prepared to gulp down whatever drink he had in mind, a ruckus was approaching. An intruder of some kind. He grumbled and downed his drink in one go. [color=f26522]"What's this!?" [/color]The horned man called out. [color=f26522]"Be quiet!"[/color] He chucked the mug as hard as he could at the stranger.