You decide this is too much, whatever this change may be. Life as Gorvind the Terror just seems to get worse and worse, and it's time to get away before you have to go through death again. You take a deep breath and, tail nervously twitching, you recite:
"I seek neither heaven or hell
but the Earth between to be well
So I ask to be granted new life
And I hope to forever escape strife."
You brace yourself for the sense of vertigo you know is coming, and try to convince yourself this is for the best. You ready yourself and wait...and wait some more...and keep waiting. Slowly, you open your eyes a bit and glance around. Nothing appears to have changed around you. You look down at your strangely transformed body and are met with the still-shocking sight of your furry legs ending in huge hooves. The sun is still shining down from above, and birds twitter obliviously in nearby trees. You are not sure what went wrong, but you decide to try again. After all, the Grim Reaper did say you could leave at any time, right?
"I seek neither heaven or hell
but the Earth between to be well
So I ask to be granted new life
And I hope to forever escape strife."
This time you enunciate each word carefully and slowly, certain that you remembered the entire chant. You keep your eyes open, straining for the slightest sensation of your soul leaving this accursed body. Nevertheless, it seems your wait is in vain. There is no sudden jerk, no feeling of falling, and no change in the scene before your eyes. You are starting to become truly nervous. Are you stuck here?
"I SEEK NEITHER HEAVEN OR...HELL...."
You bellow at top of your lungs, but your voice trails off at the mention of hell. What if demons exist, and the curse has made you one? Does that mean your soul is damned to hell? Is that why you can't leave this life? Your soul is no longer human? You drop to your hands and knees, afraid of the possible implications. A gleam catches your eye. It is the sheath of your sword, which you cast aside when you began to change. A desperate notion begins to take ahold of your mind.
If you cannot leave this life via the incantation, there is always the other way. You scramble to your hooves - not an easy task even without two new wings extending out from your back - and reach for the sheath to draw your sword. Pulling the sword out, you hesitate a moment. You are not a big fan of pain, no matter how desperate you are, and you are certainly not sure of the best way to end your life with a blade. You have no intention of impaling yourself, since if you did it incorrectly, all you would be left with would be a slow, agonizing death due to a gut wound. You glance at your wrists, but you are not sure if you can wield such a large blade accurately enough to slice them open. Annoyed at the amount of thought you are putting into this, you grip the the sword handle tightly and rest the blade against the base of your own neck, steeling yourself to slice open your carotid. You tense yourself...and find your hands releasing the sword, which slides to the ground with a thud. You stare at your empty clawed hands, and realize that whether due to a desire to live or just mere cowardice, you cannot take your own life. Your hands drop to your sides, and you hang your head in utter defeat.
You dare not risk going back to the army like this. You are not even sure how you woud begin to explain such a change, let alone convince others to accept it. Moreover, what memories of Gorvind's you can make sense of do not provide much help. You do know one thing for certain: you are now well and truly alone in this strange world. You are almost tempted to crawl into a hole somewhere, but you shake your head at the thought. You asked for another chance at life, and even if this is the life you received, how can you just waste it? You turn away from the path that would lead you back to the army, and decide to...