Dozens of magic circles activated as all the remaining mages used their mana. All four main elements flew right at Doevm, but he did not move a muscle. The Guriant raised its arms of ash and soot, shield itself and its master from the barrage of spells. Doevm crouched lower on the Guriant's shoulder as fire spread around the arms, searing a bit of his hair and armor. Sections of the Guriant's arms exploded under the violent swirling force. Bits of ash fell to the floor, limp.
Despite the unrelenting flow of random spells, the Guriant remained on its feet, enduring, waiting. "Keep firing!" the leader said as he formed fire, air, and water magic circles and activated them all in one breath. His spells, by far, took off far more chunks of the Guriant's arms than any others. "The giant Undead can't last forever! We can do this!" The blaze reflected in his wide-open eyes, drunk with power.
I always change my moods depending on what my characters go through or how intense the book gets. For example, after I wrote about Hopi's death, I became negative and saw the worst in things. It is a sort of state of empathy I have to develop when writing a scene in order to better describe what is happening. I always like writing the fights where the character barely wins or he does so in a mannor that completely dominates the competition so I feel good as well. Go Doevm go!