Type

Spell

Position

Standing

Save

Fortitude

Exhale a cloud of pestilent miasma that settles over the room and lingers. Every few moments the cloud pulses, gnawing at everyone fighting you or your companions with a low, creeping Poison -- and those who cannot shrug it off are left ill, their strength sapped and their wounds slow to close. The haze ignores the idle and the unwary; it answers only to a fight already joined. One cloud to a room; cast again to renew it.