Yes, barely.

You exert your will on the bane worms, and it is hideously difficult. It goes against their every instinct to move away from the flailing halfling but with a supreme effort of will you **** them to back off: though not before they have savagely mauled her with a hundred hundred tiny bites.

Her friend comes running up seconds later and hauls her from the sludge. "By Armok's Beard, are you alright?!?" The dwarven cleric of the God of Blood asks backing away from the stagnant pool.

"Yes, and I promise to never blaspheme against Armok again!" The halfling says with a reverential awe that galls you.

Dammit, that self righteous bastard Armok had nothing to do with it! You fume.

Surely there is a way I can turn this around again...

You mutter to yourself.