The imp did gad about impatiently, then suddenly sat cross legged before a torch, taking it within his tiny, furr covered paws. It moaned, and then held aloft this Torch of Rhadamanthys, crying out in a man's voice that ' . . . the spell that held me is broken!' <?>
His eyes glowing even more deeply red than before, hsi huddled form suddenly began to stand upright!
The Forest Imp began to dart about, as if searching, still waving about the Torch. Suddenly a shaft light, with no apparent source, appeared. The imp played to and fro, thru the light, and began to whirl, leaving a trail of light behind the torch
Suddenly, I was wrested across a great distance, to the inner sanctum sanctorum of the the Sorcerer's Guild, by macros the Black, who promptly thrashed my still stunned arse.
To this day, i wonder if that imp is not still in that very spot, playing with his shaft of light, dancing in the night.