The sorcerer leaps aside to dodge the strike, with only limited success; the Scythe cuts a slit through the red robes, and a few threads of purple-brownish blood begin to seep through.
It's not a mortal wound, or even close to one, but the demon snarls -- more in rage than in pain. He brings up both hands in a peculiar gesture, as though holding an invisible ball and crushing it between his palms.
Yellow light blooms in the empty space, and rapidly intensifies into an eye-searing glare. There's barely time to see that it's happening before the core of light shoots out a beam at Sam.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2008-01-31 07:52 pm (UTC)It's not a mortal wound, or even close to one, but the demon snarls -- more in rage than in pain. He brings up both hands in a peculiar gesture, as though holding an invisible ball and crushing it between his palms.
Yellow light blooms in the empty space, and rapidly intensifies into an eye-searing glare. There's barely time to see that it's happening before the core of light shoots out a beam at Sam.