Measure Twice, Firestorm Once
Combat against the small group of mutants is going very much in our favour. My power blade has made one tingle to death, with a single spray of automatic fire Dariel's autogun has splattered two mutants in to Verhoeven patterns on the wall, and Matthias has despatched a fourth before any of them have even managed to pick up a gun. This is how the Inquisition works.
Mordecai the Canary wants to enact some righteous anger himself, and begins to summon the psychic energy to call down a firestorm. 'I shall centre it... here!'
'It's a six metre radius in a ten metre room, you're going to hit me if you do that. Please don't.'
'Okay. Then I shall centre it... uh, here?'
'One, two, three, four, five, six. That still hits me.'
'Okay, here.' A voice rumbles from above, forcing the Canary to make an intelligence check, which he manages to fail. 'No, apparently I think my second guess was good enough. Firestorm!'
Most of the room is engulfed in fire, mutants and me alike caught in the flames. Luckily I am agile enough to prevent being set alight, even if the mutants aren't, which is good because I know how bad the situation gets when on fire. Still, I can't help thinking that a theme is emerging here, as the Canary 'forgets' to apply his inspiring aura before I encounter a fearful sight, and then 'mistakes' me for a mutant to engulf in flames. I hope we don't have a traitor in our midst.