Mac slowly rose to his feet, his chest heaving as he took deep, laboured breaths. The hammer, which had grown to the size of a regular single handed War Hammer with a wide skull smashing head, felt completely weightless as it rested in his hand.
Inky blackness still covered his hand, and in fact had spread to his other hand, but the creeping black veins didn't go any further than his forearm now. Other than their colour, they had returned to normal, no longer pushing against his skin to tear themselves free. Instead they just carried the power of the Warhammer silently through his blood, mixing it and diluting it as it traversed through his body.
"A Warrior has claimed the cursed weapon," Elder Jeskal shouted to the crowd behind him, "A new Harbinger has been chosen!"
