A ball of green fire shot past Mozenrath, narrowly missing the door and striking a nearby tree. Debris and smoke and ash burst forward with the impact and sent his cape and headdress fluttering in the hot, musky breeze it created. Oddly he didn't flinch -- not in fear anyway; there was an uncomfortable twitch when some ash got in his eye. He held up a hand and the air around him appeared to give him a wide berth.

He didn't have the impressive aspects of his power anymore, but at least he had little things to maintain his personal space and comfort. At least it helped him look calm.

After all, if there was one thing he was accustomed to, it was throwing firey tantrums.

"Does that feel a little better?" he asked.