The bone spurs on its skull flared outward, and I felt a pulse of essence that made my vision blur for half a second. Some kind of area attack. Concussive force, spiritual pressure, something. It hit like a wall of hot air, and I planted the Frostfang point-down in the stone to anchor myself against it.
The pulse passed. I was still standing.
And a crimson wall of fog had rolled forth from me, slamming against the spiritual pressure and pushing back against it. It wasn't exactly matching it, certainly not overpowering it, but creating enough resistance that I could breathe and move.
Around me, mercenaries who'd been caught in the pulse were picking themselves up off the ground. Some weren't getting up at all.
The creature lunged.
