Alaric's Full Power

The battle raged on within the chamber.

Alaric, right now, found himself firmly on the defensive.

Brita, currently wielding her ornate staff, was a force to be reckoned with.

Her movements were fluid and precise, the staff an extension of her will, weaving intricate patterns of dark energy and ice.

Alaric evaded a sweeping strike of the staff, the obsidian gem at its head pulsing with malevolent light.

'This staff,' he thought, 'it's not just a focus for her magic. It's absorbing the ambient magical energy, amplifying her spells, and giving her an insane degree of control.'

Brita followed up with a thrust, the staff aimed at Alaric's chest. He ducked under the blow, feeling the rush of dark energy as it passed overhead.