>>5359631The priest removes the bones he wears as a testament to his kills and allows his staff to fall to the ground, revealing his robust and scar-ugly physique. "The gods will it. May you die a painful death, drow." The Malarites believe that a violent death is the only one worthwhile - an indication that you have earned his respect.
The Huntlord undergoes a horrendous transformation. His muscles swell as his height doubles, accompanied by cries of pain as brutal claws jut forth from his digits to take the place of fingernails. Completing the transmogrification is a heavy pelt that sprouts forth from his exposed skin; the resultant monster is an order of magnitude more weighty than you, yet no slower. With the velocity to put a nimble athlete to shame, he shoots toward you with blinding speed.
The color drains from the High Ranger's face as she tries to urges the group to put distance between it and themselves. "Werebear!" She yelps, sparing you a pleading glance while on the retreat. No, it is too late for you to back down now.
