Random writing prompt found online: “The wizard’s terror bolt lances overhead.”
Whoever called battles “firefights” really knew what they were talking about. And this was the mother of all firefights. Lightning flashed in jagged, random directions. Fireballs streaked across the sky, leaving trails of smoke. Beams of laser-like light stabbed from one end of the heavens to the other. Staccato missile fire slashed dashed lines through the maelstrom. And then, cutting a wide purple swath across it all, the wizard’s terror bolt lanced overhead.
Instantly, the firefight stopped, the purple glow fading to the inky starlight of nighttime. Visually, the chaos had turned to peaceful darkness. But the cacophony of explosions and weapons fire transformed to the equally loud sounds of screaming and shouting. On the ground, the combatants ran every which way, suddenly swerving into new directions, terrified, whenever their paths threatened to cross. Intending to sway the course of battle for his side, the wizard had inadvertently leveled the playing field by instilling equal measures of terror on both sides.
He looked down on the confusion, shrugged his shoulders. While the anarchy playing out on the battlefield could be characterized as anything but peaceful, he had in fact created a temporary peace. Everyone was possessed by abject terror, but at least they weren’t fighting and killing each other anymore. If nothing else, it bought him some time to tinker with the battle plan and ready a new spell.
One that he would be sure to target more accurately this time.