soulfire ring

"Been that kind of day," I said. I swapped my blasting rod for my staff. The rod was great for pitching fire around, but I needed to pull off something more complicated than it was really meant to handle, and my wizard's staff was a great deal more versatile, meant for handling a broad range of possibilities. I called forth my will and laced it with the soulfire within me, then thrust the staff ahead and called, "Fuego murus! Fuego vellum!"
Energy rushed out of me, and silver-white fire rose up in a ring nearly sixty feet across, three feet thick, and three or four yards high. The roar of the flames seemed to be somehow intertwined with an odd tone that sounded like nothing so much as the voice of a great bell.
The centipedes (plural - Hell's bells, I needed to stop being so arrogant) rose up onto their rearmost limbs, trying to bridge the wall in a living arch, but they recoiled from the flames even more violently than when I'd slammed the original head with a cannonball of fire.
"Hey, neat working!" Bob said. "The soulfire is a nice touch."
The effort of managing that much energy caught up to me in a rush, and I found myself gasping and sweating. "Yeah," I said. "Thanks."
"Of course, now we're trapped," Bob noted. "And that wall is going to run out of juice soon. You can keep chopping them up for a while. Then they'll eat you."


Changes Chapter 12, Page 108