Danny's fourteen and he's having trouble gripping a fork with his left hand. His fingers have begun to merge and his thumb grows suckers. But he can split tree trunks with invisible blades created by his mind, and more. He's to be the first of the akropolia, an extension of the Akropolis itself, a force with the power to bring order to the world.
— Akropolis, by Matt Wallace
For years, Nagash lived like a hermit in a cave in the side of Cripple Peak, meditating on the nature of magic, drawing wisdom from the dark well of his corrupt soul. He explored the lightless lake beside which the great bulk of the warpstone lay. He mixed the powdered Chaos stuff with certain nameless herbs and the leaf of the Black Lotus and used it to enhance his power and make his mind more keen in its questing.
The years wore relentlessly on, and the constant exposure to warpstone wrought terrible changes in the Great Necromancer. His skin withered and cracked and sloughed away from his bones. In places it became translucent, leaving muscles and veins exposed. His eyes melted and became pools of luminous pus in their sockets. His nails grew longer and became talons, his fingers curled into claws. His heart stopped and his blood ceased to flow. His body continued to walk, driven by his dark will and the power of his evil sorcery. As he had so long desired, he had gone beyond death's reach, or so he believed.
The years wore relentlessly on, and the constant exposure to warpstone wrought terrible changes in the Great Necromancer. His skin withered and cracked and sloughed away from his bones. In places it became translucent, leaving muscles and veins exposed. His eyes melted and became pools of luminous pus in their sockets. His nails grew longer and became talons, his fingers curled into claws. His heart stopped and his blood ceased to flow. His body continued to walk, driven by his dark will and the power of his evil sorcery. As he had so long desired, he had gone beyond death's reach, or so he believed.
— Warhammer: Undead Army Book (4th edition)
My power was swelling, my Gift grown stronger. I found it much easier to reach into people's minds than I could ever remember. Breaking into those stolid and unimaginative guards outside Lynas' warehouse should have proven troublesome, and yet I'd cracked them open as easily as tossing eggs at a rock. I healed quicker than I should and as the years ground on, I was growing increasingly resistant to alcohol and alchemics. Every magus lived with the fear of change — we had all seen the warped flesh and bizarre mutations, the seeping wounds and howling madness that resulted from somebody using more power than their Gift could handle. Even if they somehow pulled back from going over the edge, it always changed a magus.
— The Traitor God, by Cameron Johnston
Rocksteady: Uh, y-you sure this is gonna give us all them, um, powers you promised us, man?
Shredder: Absolutely! Of course, you may have a little trouble getting a date on Saturday night.
Shredder: Absolutely! Of course, you may have a little trouble getting a date on Saturday night.
