Re: Into the Lion's Den
Madras looks up at the orc, meeting its gaze and refusing to flinch. A corner of his mouth quirks up, and he says two words in the Celestial tongue. In response, a shaft of sunlight beams down from the ceiling, and when it fades, the cleric is over ten feet tall. The dagger he'd been holding now more closely resembles a pike, and the morningstar held in his off-hand is nearly as big as the orc's head.
"Who's weak now, toothless?"
[Starting the festivities by casting enlarge person on myself. Clobberin' time.]