electric chain

The prime rule of combat wizardry is simple too: Be prepared.
Wizards can potentially wield tremendous power against just about anything that might come along-if we're ready to handle it. The problem is that the things that come after us know that too, so the favored tactic is the sudden ambush. Wizards might live a long time, but we aren't rend-proof. You've got to think ahead in order to have enough time to act when the heat is on.
I'd made myself ready and taught young wizards with even less experience than me how to be ready too-for an occasion just such as this.
The coil of steel chain in my coat pocket came out smoothly as I drew it, because I'd practiced the draw thousands of times, and I whipped one end at the mantis-thing's face.
It was faster than me, of course. They usually are. Those two clamps seized the end of the chain. The mantis's jaws clamped down on it, and the creature ripped the chain from my hands with a wrench of its head and upper body, quicker than thought.
That was a positive thing, really. The mantis hadn't had time to notice two important details about the chain: first, that the whole thing was coated in copper.
Second, that a standard electrical plug was attached to the other end.
I flipped my fingers at the nearest wall outlet and barked, "Galvineus!"
The plug shot toward the outlet like a striking snake and slammed home.
The lights flickered and went dim. The Denarian hopped abruptly into the air and then came down, thrashing and twitching madly. The electricity had forced the muscles in its jaws and clamps to contract, and it couldn't release the chain. Acrid smoke began to drift up from various points on its carapace.
"Wizard!" Gard gasped. She gripped the wooden handle of her ax and tossed it weakly toward me. I heard shouting and the bellow of a shotgun coming from downstairs. It stayed in the background, unimportant information. Everything that mattered to me was nearly within an arm's length.
The ax bounced and struck against my leg, but my duster prevented it from cutting into me. I picked up the ax-Christ, was it heavy-hauled off, and brought it straight down on the Denarian, as if I'd been splitting cordwood.
The ax crunched home, sinking to the eye somewhere in the Denarian's thorax. The thing's convulsions ripped the weapon out of my hands-and the plug from the wall outlet.


Small Favor Chapter 13, Page 102-103