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<blockquote data-quote="RangerWickett" data-source="post: 7984646" data-attributes="member: 63">DM: &quot;The wizard sweeps a hand before him, as if his gnarled fingers are slicing apart the air itself. Some unnatural paralysis grips your body and terror floods your mind as he chants for what feels like minutes, his voice droning over every sound in the world, drawing the light from the sky, pulling the heat from your veins until you feel your skin burn with the cold inside you. His eyes flare wide, but there is nothing within them but infinite darkness, drawing your soul into an abyss where reality is just the plaything of demons. Your spirit clutches the edges of his eye sockets, desperately holding onto what little sanity you have left, screaming against the void that you will not give in to this madness. &quot;Then . . . with a exhalation like the guttering of a candle in its last moments of light . . . he finishes that single sweep of his hand, those brief syllables of incantation. Only an instant has passed, but in that instant you glimpsed and perhaps could understand a fraction of the horrific truth of the universe, of the chaotic power he tapped in order to shape reality to his will. &quot;You feel the bolt of invisible force as it flies from his gnarled fingers to strike your heart.&quot;Player: &quot;Oh crap. Um . . . do I need to make a Con save?&quot;DM: &quot;No, he just cast magic missile. You take, . . .&quot; {rolls} &quot;. . . four damage.&quot;</blockquote>

[QUOTE="RangerWickett, post: 7984646, member: 63"] DM: "The wizard sweeps a hand before him, as if his gnarled fingers are slicing apart the air itself. Some unnatural paralysis grips your body and terror floods your mind as he chants for what feels like minutes, his voice droning over every sound in the world, drawing the light from the sky, pulling the heat from your veins until you feel your skin burn with the cold inside you. His eyes flare wide, but there is nothing within them but infinite darkness, drawing your soul into an abyss where reality is just the plaything of demons. Your spirit clutches the edges of his eye sockets, desperately holding onto what little sanity you have left, screaming against the void that you will not give in to this madness. "Then . . . with a exhalation like the guttering of a candle in its last moments of light . . . he finishes that single sweep of his hand, those brief syllables of incantation. Only an instant has passed, but in that instant you glimpsed and perhaps could understand a fraction of the horrific truth of the universe, of the chaotic power he tapped in order to shape reality to his will. "You [I]feel [/I]the bolt of invisible force as it flies from his gnarled fingers to strike your heart." Player: "Oh crap. Um . . . do I need to make a Con save?" DM: "No, he just cast [I]magic missile[/I]. You take, . . ." {rolls} ". . . four damage." [/QUOTE]

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