When Nero did his impression of dynamite ( ... dynamite? ... dyno might? ... ) the invisible barrier shimmered with St. Elmo's Fire for a few seconds. The concussion did not reach us inside the barrier, but for some reason:
[color:"orange"]Foooom![/color] my little Bag of Tricks burst wide open, spewing diamonds everywhere.
"Ach! Those things sting!" said Hypatia. "What did you do? Are those ... diamonds?"
"I didn't do anything!" I protested. I guessed that the mana cost of the explosion must have been paid out of our collective mana purses (whatever that means), and released the little spell that keeps my Bag of Tricks closed. "The bag just flew open on it's own."
While we stood there in stunned silence, letting our credulity catch up with our senses, the diamonds lay on the ground in a perfectly round mound trying to look like a snowdrift. As we all began to verbally assess Nero's performance with words like "Wow!", "What the ... ?", and "Holy bomblast, Batman!", the diamonds decided to join the fun. As if listening to some silent version of the Nutcracker Suite, they rose off the ground and began twirling and swarming like gnats or pixies dancing around their queen.
Hypatia scolded me gently, "BG, if you don't stop that, I'll never kiss your 'boo boo' again."
"But, Hypatia, I didn't *[color:"yellow"]do[/color]* anything!" I complained in self-defense. "Honest!" She wasn't convinced. "And, besides, you always kiss my nose or my noggin. You never kiss my booboo." And I turned around, bent over, and innocently pointed at my rear end, to make sure she knew which part of an Imp is his or her booboo. She just crossed her arms and looked disapprovingly at me, but the smile in her eyes gave her away.
