One fit for a master of seduction.

Well, you think, you added an incubus's power to my body for a reason, you may as well follow through with it.

You walk through the armoury, past the endless rows of cleavers, axes and crude plate, until you reach what you're after. An oak chest, bound in gold, and with the faded symbol of a human noble house on it. You reach down and open it. It's locked, but the lock breaks in half as you pull the lid open. Inside, you find clothes which, though as faded as the symbol, are finely-made and tastefully decorated. Perfect for your needs.

In a matter of minutes, you're dressed and admiring yourself and your clothes in the mirror. You're a Drake, draconic blood mixing with demonic power and whatever you drew your base from, standing seven feet tall, with black scales that turn to a deep red at the tips. A pair of horns sweep back from your head, giving you an imposing appearance and focusing attention on your face which is, even with the blood-red, slitted eyes and fanged maw, is quite attractive. Your hands end in razor-sharp claws, which are at present retracted so as not to tear up your new riding gloves.

You have two claw like feet, three bent nails in front and one in the back help you keep in balance and let you grab something should the opportunity arise. Finally, you let your eyes return to your clothes, a matching pair of a red shirt and brown breeches. Tucked inside the shirt is several knife holsters, all filled, while tucked inside the pants is an equally deadly weapon, a cock that reaches to ten ridged inches when fully erect, and tucks back into a slit for safety when not.

All in all, you look like a dragon that decided to cosplay as an English fox-hunter (wait, what do the words cosplay and English mean?) Still, you do have hunting in mind, just not the sort the original owner intended.

A voice echoes in your head. "You have chosen? Good, then it is time for your first task."