04-21-2016, 08:19 AM
Harry pocketed his blasting rod as the ground shook, gathering his energy and preparing some ice magic within his staff. Originally, the plan was to cast Arctispinae, thin the horde's numbers quickly, but the sudden onslaught of too many dragons to count was... frightening, to say the least. Harry strode in front of the others, staff raised, Winter chilling his blood as it numbed the fear, and all he could think of was killing, maiming, fighting and fighting until he couldn't fight anymore. But that wasn't the way a wizard did things. Harry growled and clamped down on those instincts, instead planting his staff in the ground with a loud snapping noise from the ash crunching underneath it. "If anyone's got the big guns, now's the time to use 'em. Then get behind me." His shouted instructions to the rest of Gamma were cold as the ice that had begun creeping on the ground outwards from him, spiraling lazily from his staff. He poured all the fear that was trying to gnaw at the edges of winter into one spell, along with a good bit of energy from both his normal reserves and Winter, as he raised his right hand, free of any focus, and cast the spell.
"GLACIVALLARE"
The shouted incantation released ice into the volcanic air, weathering the heat without a care in the world. The ice of Arctis Tor was strong, though its Fae nature meant this wasn't to be a permanent fixture. The spiraling shards of ice coalesced into a wall, and the dragon horde took his shouted incantation as a challenge, a good segment of them breathing fire at it, hacking at it with claws, and battering it with tails. The Winter ice cracked somewhat, but, for now, it held. Harry, for his part, had already started preparing his next spell. If he was going to reforge this wall when it cracked, he'd need to time it exactly. He held the spell construct in his mind, and scraps of bastardized Latin and Spanish fell from his lips in a steady chant, a solemn song of cold and darkness, turning the evocation into a halfway-thaumaturgical working so that he could control it a little better, when the time came to cast it.
"GLACIVALLARE"
The shouted incantation released ice into the volcanic air, weathering the heat without a care in the world. The ice of Arctis Tor was strong, though its Fae nature meant this wasn't to be a permanent fixture. The spiraling shards of ice coalesced into a wall, and the dragon horde took his shouted incantation as a challenge, a good segment of them breathing fire at it, hacking at it with claws, and battering it with tails. The Winter ice cracked somewhat, but, for now, it held. Harry, for his part, had already started preparing his next spell. If he was going to reforge this wall when it cracked, he'd need to time it exactly. He held the spell construct in his mind, and scraps of bastardized Latin and Spanish fell from his lips in a steady chant, a solemn song of cold and darkness, turning the evocation into a halfway-thaumaturgical working so that he could control it a little better, when the time came to cast it.
![[Image: u17lb3R.gif]](http://i.imgur.com/u17lb3R.gif)