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Chapter 2 by GenericEditor168 GenericEditor168

What form do you will into existence for yourself?

A hybrid, a Drake with an Incubus's power.

You let your mind go over the material floating around you, contemplating the many options and perks of the many combinations, once your mind is made up you quickly start gather the pieces of the puzzle that will be your body. Bones form, snapping together into a tall skeleton, flesh and raw magical power swirl around it, creating your organs, skin and binding your form together. As you feel the body nears completeness you start to take control of it...

But something's missing. This form you've built for yourself might be a true terror in hand to hand fighting, but you need something... more. Some way of dominating the enemies of your master without tearing them to pieces, which would be a waste of good toys...

Quickly, you drag a blob of energy up from the depths of the pool and push it into your form. Much better.

Then, taking control of your form, you rise to meet your maker.

You burst through the surface and gasp for air. You step up and out of the pool, into the cool air of the cavern. Before you stand two figures. You blink pool-fluid from your eyes, trying to get a better look at them...

"Interesting! It's a Drake, mixed with something else. Interesting, but possible unstable. Too many components. There's dragon and human and something magical in there, so there's no way to tell how it could react. I'd melt it down and see if we could get an orc, master." The first figure, and first speaker, is a small androgynous bundle of rags.

"No, Uldar. He was made this way for a reason. He will live, unless he proves unsuitable." This figure (you mentally readjust him to first figure, putting him second in anything just jars) is the exact opposite. He towers above the bundle of rags and even above you. He's dressed in a suit of black iron plate, with a helmet in the shape of a roaring demon. Through the vision slits, you can see a pair of burning red eyes.

This, you innately understand, is your master.

"Minion, I have a task for you. But first, you must be properly equipped. Stop by the armoury and take whatever weapons and armour you wish. Then I will tell you what to do."

You bow, wings outstretched, before walking out the door.

It's an easy walk to the armoury, the way seems to have been etched into your mind. The doors are unlocked, and the goblin quartermaster seems to be expecting your arrival. Behind him, rows upon rows of weapons and armour stretch out...

What sort of loadout would you like?

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