Belgarath the Sorcerer. David Eddings

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      I didn’t bother to mutter. Nobody in his right mind would attempt to duplicate what I was about to do. I spoke the incantation quite precisely. This wasn’t a good time for blunders. I was concentrating very hard, and my illusion flickered and went out, leaving me with nothing but the moon to work with.

      There was another shimmering in the air, much too close to me for my comfort – and this particular shimmering glowed a sooty red. Then it congealed and became solid. I’d decided not to try to be exotic. Most Morind magicians get very creative when they devise the shape into which they plan to imprison their demon. I didn’t bother with tentacles or scales or any of that nonsense. I chose to use a human shape, and about all I did to modify the thing was to add horns. I really concentrated on those horns, since my very life hung on them.