mips42
Adventurer
Lester turns sheet white and freezes in terror. He had been in denial when he followed along that he would be involved in any sort of combat, and with the flurry of movement and attacks his senses are nearly overwhelmed. But that kobold that conjured fire, something about that awakens an automatic response drilled into him long ago by practice wizard duels long past.
He squeaks out a few arcane words as he rubs his hands together. When he pulls them apart a white hot ball of plasma pops into existence. A trained mage might call it sloppy work, as little sparks constantly fly off of it as if it were some festival dazzler. But Lester grabs it in his right hand, unhurt by his own magical fire, and turns sideways. He leans back, winds up for a throw and protests, "But I have never killed anyone before, at least intentionally!" just before lobbing it at the spellwielding kobold in question.
OOC: Fire Bolt: 1d20+3=8, 1d10=5
The plasma ball sparks, swirls and weaves through the air like a drunken sailor on a bender. It sits, briefly, about 6 inches above the kobolds' head then streaks off into the sky where it bursts into the shape of a butterfly.