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.
He retaliated with a quick 'Flame Burst', hoping to create some distance. The flames erupted from his hand, but Brita simply twirled her staff, creating a swirling vortex of dark energy that absorbed the flames with ease.
