Mumbling under her breath, her shoulders slumped forward.
“Jorgand hate war…”
Her voice became more orcish with each syllable she uttered. As if reverting to some primitive form, vines began to slowly peel away from her skin. Her hair began to stand on end, a slight green glow covering her.
The minotaur took a step back, readying himself for what might be coming. Veins popped across her face and forehead, not due to muscular enlargement, but in sheer rage. Slowly, Jorgand’s head rose. Her bangs wildly hung over her now-bloodshot black eyes. Her pupils dilated into harlequin-green irregular heptagons. “War makes Jorgand…. ANGRYYYY!”
Releasing a shrill yet diabolical scream, the very air vibrated as the sound resonated around them. Enemies, of smaller stature began to rise in the air as
