"Alright, then, everyone." Roman said, addressing the crowd. "I think that the choice here is obvious."
The light comes down and strikes Dact, before surrounding him. Dact can feel his armor fading away, and his clothing turned to trailworn leather than fits tightly accross his body. Any swords he might have on his persons float away from him, and reshape into a broad variety of firearms before returning back to him. His body shifts and molds under the light and he can feel his hair grow out to fall down over his shoulders. When it fades, an
attractive dark-haired woman is in his place. In her mind, visions of guns, weaponry, and a vast number of ways to use them danced. Each gun, once she held it, was now an extension of her own body, and her harsh blue eyes became adept at making all the calculations she needed to fire a shot.
"A gunslinger, ladies and gentlemen." He said with a degree of pride. "You can go now, and let's all give a big round of applause for Mischa, as he comes up to the stage!"
Mischa vanished from his seat, and was instantly standing on stage.
"Let's see...I'll need some time to think of something good for you." He said, "Let's take suggestions from the audience in the meantime."