Mage rage

As you pant from the exhaustion of holding off the horde of strange bug-like monsters, the few drops of rain from before turn into a downpour. Memphis, the valta's resident mage, shakes the water out of his now drenched hair before throwing a wave of sparks and flames in an arc in front of him, setting alight some of the bugs. Ren backs him up, knocking an arrow in his compound bow and letting it loose towards the crowd, cutting through the shell of a monster and toppling it. Before Chris can even contribute to the barrage, Memphis has had enough. Throwing down, his sword, he slowly marches towards the horde, puffing visible hot breath into the air. He reaches an arm high in the sky and a ball of flame forms over his palm, growing larger and brighter. The sheer heat sizzles all the water droplets off of his clothes as well as yours. The light is enough to cause the horde to cower in fear. He throws it like a bowling ball and, in the chaos of bugs being crushed and engulfed in the fire, launches as many spells as he can sling with the energy left inside of him. Within seconds, the whole swarm is turned to shreds and all that's left are a couple of monsters who scurry off into the wasteland. The rain doesn't let up, but at least it's the worst of your problems now and it can be handled. Memphis falls to his knees, his flowing leather jacket now stained in mud, and catches his breath