It crept upon me, its icy-cold touch a vice on my soul. Light, it said. Give me light, it craved.
The creature’s desire was too strong, and its psychic hold tightening around my heart compelled me. I shall give it light, I thought.
But then I fought back. I cast Fireball. I was a goddamned wizard, after all. Even if the Fireball was more of a potion than a spell.
That evocation only spurred on the creature’s anger, so I brought forward the power of light, whispering the arcane words that summoned it from the ether as I twisted my fingers in sublimation.
And I fell, slipping from cool granite and into oblivion.
Okay, okay… 🙂
Cliché experiment done!
I attempted to change a lightbulb the other day by climbing atop the bathroom sink, slipped, and nearly killed myself, which would be extremely inconvenient for anyone waiting to see Freewoman’s completion.
A few shots of Fireball may have helped this. At least there wasn’t a concussion, just… ZOMBIE FOOT!
