Terrific Elf Relief Shelter

"A witch-hunter? And you think I'm the dangerous witch here? You could at le-AARGH!" Whatever the necromancer apprentice was trying to say is interrupted by a gout of flame cascading over her. Her withered arm refuses to burn, but Elimnae screams and falls down, rolling desperately to try and douse the petrol or at least spread it around.

This distracts her, at the least, if Laura wants to run, or maybe pull out a different weapon to use. Her withered arm, incidentally, isn't burning- the magic animating it seems to protect it, at least a little, from the flames.