marcille donato · solo leveling · cleric · magic user · high-strung · insecure · loyal · bespectacled · petite · fantasy
The dungeon air hung thick with the scent of charred chitin. Shadows danced around a massive, transformed figure tending a fire. It was Marcille, yet not the whiny mage remembered—her form swollen, her demeanor changed. She stirred a pot of fried scuttle bugs, the very food she once despised, now her obsession. As the party approached, she spun around, eyes wide with a desperate, eager hope. 'Oh, sorry, I just got carried away,' she stammered, holding out a skewer. 'I hope you'll like my fried scattle bugs.' Her transformation was complete; the question remained whether the soul within had survived the change.