30
With the Moonstone and your Staff held aloft you shout down at the demon horde, ‘Begone creatures of darkness, minions of hell, slaves of terror! Beware the might of the Shianti and the sacred Moonstone of old.’
Many of the smaller demons begin to whimper obscenely, while others vanish, blinking out like candles snuffed by the wind. You step onto the next stair and note with satisfaction that they hasten away with anguished cries, endeavouring to remain outside the protective ring of the Moonstone. Just as you begin to think that your ploy will work, a large shadow looms at the far end of the hall. A winged form stands silhouetted by the sunlight streaming through the entrance to the tomb. The sea of deformity parts before you and the timid moans and cries become crowing gloats of pleasure. To your dismay, the protective light of the Moonstone gutters as the power of your incantation begins to fade.
