Legends of TFF Furthermore

Discussion in 'Fan Fiction' started by Meteorain, Aug 6, 2008.

  1. Meteorain

    Meteorain Magical & Mystical

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    Same as with the Legends of TFF move, I'm just moving the stories over to here. This way people can read all the stories without having to wade through non story user posts and what not. SO DON'T POST HERE

    Also it allows for new readers to read them in order and stuff lol.

    Note: All character histories will be written under the General Title of "Origins", so it is easier to identify that it is a character's history

    The Order so far (canon):

    Origins - Mirror Mirror on the Wall...
    12 Disciples (1) - Darkness Approaches
     
    Last edited: Sep 16, 2008
  2. Meteorain

    Meteorain Magical & Mystical

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    Origins – Mirror, Mirror on the wall…

    He felt the essence of the Ether weave as he cast his will upon it. It was so subtly different from element magic yet so immensely different. The contradiction was an unexplainable phenomenon that only few could understand yet not explain. The Ether, the purest and most raw form of magic was beautiful as it filled up and coursed through him, but without care it could be unconsciously fickle and rend a man’s soul from his body or worse. He was careful though, the weave of the spell becoming more defined and stronger before eventually it achieved its pattern and was released from thin, long and regal fingers. The spell cast burst forth and took form in the massive domed room. A Dragon of pure magic swam around the room, in a cavalcade of rich gold, yellow and orange. Its body was long like a worm’s but infinitely more impressive as it filled the room with an aura of power and majestic presence. The body was scaled with the finest scales of gold and yellow as it glided effortlessly around the room and capture all within it in a state of pride and even a small sense of awe. Never had so young a mage been able to cast such a spell for it was no much a spell of power but that which showed the skill in which the mage could manipulate the magic.

    The Dragon flew around the room for a few more minutes before dissipating and leaving the room’s occupants in a state of admiration.
    “Most impressive master Cephalon” spoke one of the mages. His name was Senaris Elben and he was old but certainly not frail, his body was still held straight where others his age would be bent over or even dead. His was the title of Supreme Loremaster of Ether; the highest attainable level for any wizard, mage, sorcerer or magic user in the entire known world, and the White Tower of Belan had the honour of having such a man. That man’s prominence was most keenly felt and understood by Dragn9 than he ever had before, for he was the one presiding over Dragn9’s exam.

    Normally such a task would have been handled by Masters of Lore –one from each element- and not by the leader of the White Tower. Yet, such was the case as the White Tower was still recovering from a large Mage-war that had pulled in magic users from all around. The White Tower was lacking in Masters, High Masters, Loremasters, High Loremasters, all those who were above him in the hierarchy. So it was that when the time came for Dragn9 to take his exam to be initiated into the ranks of Master that the most highly decorated in the White Tower had to be present to judge him.

    “Yes, a finely cast spell” added another mage after Senaris, and the others nodded in agreement. A small sense of relief crept into Dragn9, it seemed they were happy and that was always a good sign. Either white balls of light hung in the air in front of each mage, a unanimous decision by all present that Dragn9 had passed the exam. In that moment he nearly let himself burst into celebration but at the sight of Senaris he reigned himself in, allowing but a small smile on his face as he bowed in thanks to the mages.
    “I thank you for your time” he said in an expected obsequious bow as fitting the ceremony.
    The mages returned the bow with a short nod of the head and began to leave the room, Dragn9 standing in the centre to let them leave before he could move.
    “High Master SenKin will see you in his office” said his old tutor Master Ravos, the last mage to leave as he walked past Dragn9, stopping briefly to give him this message and a pat on the shoulder.

    After the mages left, Dragn9 allowed himself his small celebration as he pumped he formed a fist and pumped his arm back accompanied by the ‘Oh yeah’ and a grin that would have had many a girl fawning. His celebration over, he too exited the large room and headed straight for the office of High Master SenKin. Dragn9 had not come into contact with the High Master much, but he seemed fairly warm in comparison to most and Dragn9 was not particularly worried.

    It did not take him long to reach the office, and he soon found himself entering the after he had knocked and been invited in. He took a seat at the High Master’s request in front of the table the man sat behind. Not quite knowing why he was here, he never the less remained silent as he waited for SenKin to finish whatever paper work he was working on.
    A few moments later and Dragn9 became the focus of the High Master’s attention.

    “You are probably wondering why you are here, but first let me congratulate you on becoming a Master of Ether” began SenKin to which Dragn9 gave his thanks and let the man continue. “That though has become in it’s own way a problem. You are undoubtedly aware that the White Tower is suffering from a shortage of higher level magi and as a result we do not have the sufficient manpower as it were to teach those of Master level who are aspiring to become High Masters, a position we undoubtedly know you are working towards.”
    An understanding began to form in Dragn9’s mind which SenKin could see from the change in the Dragn9’s expression.
    “Due to this situation and rank we are suspending any learning’s from those above you and instead are leaving you to undertake full time self instruction. Now we know this is not a particularly easy task due to the nature of magic and it’s need for experimentation to learn, but an incident concerning Belan politics has arisen that requires the help of the White Tower. Fortunately such is the nature of the incident that you maybe find yourself in a position to undertake self instruction in a much more positive manner”. At this point, SenKin has arisen from his chair and walked over to a pigeon hole on the wall nearby to retrieve a letter. Sitting back down, he handed the letter to Dragn9 who took it with a curious hand.

    “In that letter you will find a more detailed account of what is expected but I will tell you the more necessary facts. An allied country of Belan known as TFF has requested the aid of a Magus of the White Tower of Belan to help bolster their Defence Force against an influx of unwarranted activity, more specifically a large city known as Spamopolis. You will be required to aid the Defence Force in quelling riots and the such, which we believe is an excellent opportunity for one as gifted as yourself to advance in the lore of magic. In this task you will also act as an ambassador of Belan to TFF, but that it not so important. I do not expect an answer straight away and you may speak with your family regarding this subject, but I will expect an answer within the week”. The explanation was short and directly to the point, and it caught Dragn9 off guard. He had never truly been left to his own doings and now here was an opportunity to do so, and more importantly, make himself known. The rest of the meeting went quickly and Dragn9 exited the office with a bow and headed straight for his room to collect a few necessary items before he made his way into the city and to his home.

    ***​

    News of the offer was not foremost in the Cephalon household as Dragn9 was dressed formally and ushered into the main hall where his father and the rest of the family awaited his arrival. They knew of his test, and were expecting the results as it was an important matter regarding their house’s station. The first son was already a prominent leader within the Belan army, and now the second son was rising to fairly high ranking within the White Tower, and at such a young age at that.

    Dragn9 entered the room and stood before his father who sat on his chair at one end of the room as though he were the King of Belan himself. A mannerism not uncommon amongst the higher houses of Belan. His mother sat beside him, and his brothers and sisters were lined on either side of him creating a short path from himself to his father.

    “The result?” asked his father, his voice controlled and not letting through the anxiousness he felt inside. There was a moment of pause from Dragn9 before he let loose his aware winning smile, “I passed with a unanimous decision. Super Loremaster Senaris himself saying that my spell was impressive”.
    “A most pleasing thing to hear my son” replied his father and beckoned for Dragn9 to come closer. “You bring much honour to the Cephalon house Dragn9, we shall have a party to celebrate this occasion” and with that his father produced a smile so magnificent that the legendary glint of the Cephalon family appeared in it; an achievement that Dragn9 was strongly aspiring towards. Like himself, the rest of the Cephalon family was narcissistic in varying degrees aesthetics were as important to them as power amongst the houses of Belan. A subject quite bemusing to most, and only really understood by the family members themselves.

    “Wait, before you start to prepare this celebration, I have some more news to tell you” interjected Dragn9 remembering what he had been told earlier as his father began to call over a maid. His father stop, a slightly confused look on his face, but waited for Dragn9 to continue. “The White Tower has made me an offer you should be aware of.” Dragn9 pulled the scroll out from within his robes and handed it to his father to read. There was a silence as his father read through the scroll, carefully reading its contents before he looked up at Dragn9.

    “It seems that the White Tower is giving you a somewhat important role. You would have to leave this house behind but what is being asked of you I believe will be an important stepping stone for you. Rarely have you been left to rely on yourself, and this will be a good lesson for you. It is not also entirely unfortunate for us since such a task will bring more honour upon the Cephalon house as you have been chosen for such a task. Amabassador! The other houses will be envious.” His father grinned then at the thought of the political gain. The Cephalon family were not fond of the political game, but they found it necessary to play and as such took certain steps towards gaining a good foothold.

    As for Dragn9, he finally let the day’s events wash over him and he was glad. He was now a Master, and on top of that going to be leaving for a foreign land, the idea excited him. His thoughts though were stopped short though as his mother finally spoke. “What of your new attire?” she asked.

    Robes! An important thing he had forgotten. Finally he would be able to attain a robe with any form of grandeur. It would be the most plain of the grand robes, but far better than the one’s he currently wore at the White Tower.
    “I believe it they will be White and Blue denoting my lore” he answered and imagined them now.
    “You will look great my son” continued his mother.
    “But of course” he replied, and before he could finish the rest of the family spoke in chorus: “Not even Merlin will look this good”.

    ***​

    A few days later and Dragn9 had officially accepted his new role, and was gifted a moon staff, a sword and armour. The gifts fitted in perfectly with the robes, and indeed Dragn9 did look like regal and impressive, a true mage.

    So it was that Dragn9 began his first steps that would lead him down a most interesting road and deliver him into the heart of TFF where he come to call Spamopolis him home.
     
  3. Meteorain

    Meteorain Magical & Mystical

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    12 Disciples (1) – Darkness Approaches

    All that remained of the old fishing city of Oboha were the charred timbers of the small outer towers, half buried beneath the wet marshes that bordered the city. Such a sight was common place now across the land of Bion.

    Oboha which had remained untouched for countless centuries had been ravaged by the sword of destruction that carved its way through Bion. Entire communities that had lived in peace with the land were forced to flee their settlements as battle spread across the isolated island. Sacred sites that had stood undisturbed for millennia had been destroyed overnight. Even the Avatha, the sacred guardians of the isle, had been unable to prevent the wanton destruction that had fallen upon their homeland.

    An unknown evil buried deep within the ground and marshes of the island long before the first settlers even came to Bion had resurged, the cause unknown. All that was known was that from the black pit from where the evil came arose twelve creatures calling themselves Dark Envoy’s and theirs was the power to hold dominion over creatures summoned from the surroundings and given life by the dead souls that were trapped there or they held themselves.

    One such creature stood in the marsh, and beneath its ragged cowl it let a malicious grin play across its face. All was as planned; just as the Master had foreseen mused the thing. Each drop of blood spilled in violence has tainted the sacred grounds, blighting it and brining the plans of the Master one step closer to completion. Slowly and surely more lands would fall as the tide of darkness grows stronger and eventually envelops the world. It will sweep away all before it and those that stand against us would be helpless against the waves of terror and despair that came with it.

    The Dark Envoy, Ga’atar its name, dug the tip of his crooked staff into the soil, tracing a mark into the wet earth. An ‘S’ shape that ended in a spiral, the mark of his brethren. All that saw it would know that this place has been claimed by his kind. Each day such a mark would appear all across Bion, and dominance over the island would soon be complete.

    From above on a stone outcrop hid a man, an Avatha, a guardian of Bion and he had watched the Dark Envoy as he finished an all too familiar marking. Veyral had followed the evil thing after spotting it from a place of hiding he had to use in these recent days. Many hours he had followed but he could standby no longer, this thing was a black stain on the land and it had to be removed.

    “This land is not yours vile creature”. Veyral stared down from the outcrop in full view now where Ga’atar could see the half naked warrior druid standing with a grim expression.

    “You fellow men are not here and you have no army under your control now. I am Veyral Daynathos and I command you to leave this isle lest I be forced to follute this land further with your blood”. Veyral motioned for Ga’atar to leave, pointing his staff towards the stormy seas.

    “Stupid man! Do you truly think that I fear to walk alone?” spat Ga’atar. He recognised the man as an Avatha and scorned their kind. In combat Ga’atar was no match and would easily fall, but he would not give the man the chance. With a quick motion of his hand, a thick fog rose from the ground, and hid the Dark Envoy from the eyes of Veyral. All he needed were the few seconds of distraction to throw a carved stone into the bog that lay nearby, finally finishing the ritual the Avatha had interrupted. The souls of the dead were trapped in the moors from a battle long past.

    It was moments later that the Avatha burst from the fog, his staff now a formidable weapon and a killing blow aimed at Ga’atar. Veyral closed in and as he did so, a moan that came from no human froze him where he stood.

    From the moor behind Ga’atar a great shadow loomed in the fog. The ground shook and it felt as though it were coming alive to destroy Veyral. Long tendrils of weed clung to rocks, ancient bones and large clumps of soil moved in the form of a large crude humanoid shape. The nightmarish creature was easily twice the height of a man and now it bore down on Veyral with a speed belied by its appearance.

    “Kill him! Kill him now!” Ga’atar shouted at his creation. It was a creature made from the moor, and earthly manifestation of the tormented souls of the dead. Whilst Ga’atar lived this Moorbeast would be held under his spell, obeying his ever word; a mindless being serving the Dark Envoy until it was destroyed or dismissed by Ga’atar.

    An arm like protrusion ruptures out of the monster’s side and Veyral dodged to the side as it thrust out at him. Once more the Moorbeast struck out with its unnatural speed and huge arm, this time catching the Avatha squarely in the chest and sending him flying away. As te blow landed the arm disintegrated a fraction of a second later, and the pendant that hung around Veyral’s neck glowed defiantly. The small triumph was short lived though as bits of soil and mud detached from the ground flying towards the creature and regenerating its arm to Veyral’s horror. Seemingly unfazed the Moorbeast barrelled forward and smashed Veyral to the floor like a battering ram. Pinned under the beast, a second arm burst out from the creature and rose ominously to deliver the killing blow as Veyral was cut multiple thorns and stray bits of branch.

    With the sun blotted out by the creature, fog and trees, Veyral blindly struck out with his staff, thrusting it into the midriff of the Moorbeast. It was not a blow powerful to fell the creature but it granted him a few moments to mouth the words of power taught to him and channelled his energy into his staff and completely blowing away the midsection of the creature. In a manner of seconds the creature collapsed to the floor with no main body to support it, landing in a pile of mud, rock and bone.

    Veyral then turned to face the Dark Envoy but it was nowhere to be seen. Gripping his staff he chanted a few words and calmly swung his staff in an arc around him and the fog dissipated in a few moments. Even with the mist cleared he could not see the sorcerer, but with the parting of fog a small cave was revealed beneath the rocks he had been standing upon earlier.

    Cautiously Veyral stepped into the shadowed tunnel, his eyes trying to pierce the dim light. His prudence was well placed for even though the Dark Envoy’s were weak and frail in body, he knew from experience there were as deadly if not more so than the Moorbeast he had just fought. They had a strong grasp of magic, better than even his own, and he did not doubt that this one could destroy him were he to lower his guard for even a moment.

    At his words the end of his staff shone brightly, illuminating the small cave and casting shadows further along the walls. All sorts of glyphs had been carved into the walls and there a stink of death in the air. The tunnel continued for a short while then eventually led him to a larger room. The room was filled with the remains of humans, their bloodied bones and rags strewn randomly across the floor. Their presence suggesting they had been savagely killed. They must have been the unlucky one’s who had been unable to flee. It was in the far corner of this room that the Dark Envoy was crouched and his hunched form mostly blocking a purple glow that seem to radiate from his chest.

    “There is no escaping me now evil thing” Veyral spoke calmly now that he could see his enemy. At his words the emissary stood, and Veyral could see that it clutched an overly large gauntleted hand that emanated an unnatural purple against his chest. From it he could hear a soft hum, now that he was closer. The gauntlet shot out menacingly as the Dark Envoy aimed a punch at Veyral’s broad chest. He brought up his staff to deflect the blow, but even as the enchanted wood met the gauntlet, it was blasted into splinters. Veyral was sent flying across the chamber, smashing into the wall with a heavy impact.

    Even as he pushed himself off the ground, and regained his senses he knew that a rib was broken. Yet with pain flashing through his body he forced himself back onto his feet and saw that the Dark Envoy had thrown yet another punch at him, but this time aimed at his head. He ducked under the gauntlet and it smashed into the wall of the cavern. The force of the blow shook the ground that he stood on and even the cave began to tremble from the impact.

    Veyral saw the wall split and chunk of rock began to fall from the ceiling where the crack had reached. The malicious grin that the Envoy usually wore was now replaced by a look of sheer horror as he realised that the gauntlet had become wedged deep into the rock.

    Not bothering to finish the Dark Envoy he began to sprint from the cavern as the chamber began to collapse and so did the tunnel behind him. The Envoy’s own wickedness would kill him, and he at last dived out of the cave into the light, a cloud of dust billowing up behind him. After the debris had settled and the entrance close up the pile of rubble that had once been the cave mouth he wondered what strange magical artefact the Dark Envoy had used in those last moments. Yet now, it was sealed forever in the collapsed cave and he knew he must travel at once away from Bion to search for aid. There were few Avatha left and they could not save Bion by themselves.

    Making his way to the shores, he took out a small boat that he had hidden in the dire case that he needed to leave the island. He pushed on through the pain he felt and tugged the boat to the choppy waters that awaited him. East he must go. There he will seek help to save his beloved land.
     
    Last edited: Sep 16, 2008
  4. Meteorain

    Meteorain Magical & Mystical

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    12 Disciples (12) – Into the Fray

    “Right so first things first, we need to get Veyral. Where’s the infirmary he was sent to?” said Meteorain looking at the two groups that were now under his ‘guidance’. The first was led by Rosgwak and included Dragn9, Sevi, Kakashi and Alchemist. The second was under the leadership of Wolf and included Overread, RunningWolf, Blackness and Arelin.

    It was Ros who addressed his question, “The infirmary is located in the Library”. Met gave him a quizzical look before gesturing for him to go on, “I can show you the way”.

    “Good. Let’s get on then” replied Met and let Ros lead the way to the Library. The building came into view as they entered one of the city’s promenade’s. It was a gargantuan structure made of white brick and featured several domes, with one much larger and higher dome at the centre that held a large icon of a sun on a stand. Most people took a moment to take in the sight of the magnificence of the building but Met just followed Ros into the building with only a glance at the structure as the others waited outside.

    Following Ros through the various rooms of the library Met eventually found himself in the infirmary and standing next to Veyral who was sitting in a chair as a doctor checked him over. Upon seeing Meteorain he stood up and approached them.

    “Old man, we’ll be needing you to come along back to the forest to help us hunt some of these bad guys of yours” Met told the man, and Veyral nodded in response. “You good to go though?”

    “Yes, the treatment combined with my natural healing abilities mean that I am fine. It was merely a rib that needed fixing”.

    “Good. Then let’s get going” said Met and followed Ros back out of the library with Veyral after he was discharged. As they left the library Met did not bother waiting for them to group up, he instead headed straight for the city gates in full expectation that they would follow. The others watched him, and held back annoyed words as they reluctantly followed him. In Met’s mind they had already wasted enough time with finding Veyral and waiting for him to be allowed to leave.

    Mounting the pre-arranged horses for the journey to the forest, they exited the city of Spamopolis at a quick pace. Wolf and his group ran on either side of the horses in their animal forms, easily keeping up with the rest of the group. They kept on the main road since it was the fastest method to the forest, as well as the most logical. Met intended for them to leave their mounts about a mile away from the forest so that when they reached the forest there would be no hassle and they would be less likely to be detected.

    It wasn’t long before that plan was put into effect, and they were gathered just inside the forest’s edge to plan out the next part of the mission.

    “Ok so we need to sort out what we’re going to do from here on” said Met to the rest of them as they huddled in a loose circle, “The first point of call is that all orders from me are absolute. I can navigate, hunt and utilise this forest better than any of you, and because of that I can’t have you screwing up because you didn’t listen”. There was silence, but nobody disagreed.

    “Better than a wolf?” said the one voice that spoke out, and it was Overread.

    “If it’s in this forest, then yes” replied Met looking directly at Overread, his words full of confidence, “We’ve already wasted several hours, and I don’t feel like wasting any more time proving the fact to you”. A throaty growl buzzed in Overread’s throat, but Wolf put a hand on his shoulder. They didn’t have time to fight amongst themselves, so it was best to just comply for now.

    “Now, next thing is aiming where to go” said Met finally getting down to the details, “There are only a few sites where there have been battles, and only a half dozen sites of accumulated magic presence before we start heading into heavily guarded Elven land. Other than there is but one place of strong magical presence, but I do not believe that these Dark Envoy’s will be able to access that area, so we can rule that out and focus on battle areas first and then move onto the magic sites”.

    “Why? Surely they will head for the strongest magical area to utilise the power there?” asked Ros

    “That area is special. It’s impossible to get in there, unless the forest allows you. It’s what you could call the heart of the forest. I’ve tried getting in, and I didn’t get anywhere close to entering the place”

    “Maybe you were too weak?” quipped Overread.

    “More like it was too powerful. Not even the Wood Elves can enter unless they have a special task to complete in there, and so must seek permission to enter”.

    “Fine. So we should start heading out to these sites then” said Ros bringing an end to that topic, “Unfortunately we will have to move as one large group since only Met knows where these places are. This means good team work, so let’s try not to act like children and get this done properly”. The others nodded their head, the more stoic one’s merely staying quiet as their method of agreement.

    “Then the last thing is to just get final details on how to fight these guys. Veyral, the stage is yours” said Met and turned to Veyral.

    “The Dark Envoy’s as you know are prominent magic users, and focus on domination and necromancy. They use their surroundings to summon up minions which they control and send forth to destroy anything in their path. They more minions they control the weaker each minion is unless they link together and the creatures get somewhat stronger. We are lucky because all of them together would increase their power tremendously. The creatures themselves cannot be judged by those you have already encountered. They are capable of sprouting limbs and all manner of things when you think you have them, so you must almost maintain the utmost concentration. Other than that I cannot suggest much more except that if you happen to find the Envoy without being targeted by a minion you should take him out as soon as possible”.

    “Well that’s it then. Right I don’t know how you guys work, so I’ll leave it up to your individual captains to sort you out as to how you will be following me. Just try not to do things without asking me” said Met as he gave the two Defence Force groups some time to sort themselves out.

    A few minutes were spent as Ros and Wolf arranged their respective teams as they saw fit, keeping appropriate distances without straying too far from each other, allowing for communication and visual contact without being too clustered so that movement was poor due to them stumbling over each other. Ros and Wolf then nodded at Met who immediately began to make his way through the forest; if he had his way he would say that it began as a forest but ended up as a jungle.

    ***

    No sign of the Dark Envoy’s had been found at the last three sites they had visited, and Met was getting impatient. He had visited what he thought were the most magically potent sights for these magi but there wasn’t even a whiff of them. He crouched in frustrated thought at the situation. Where the hell else could they be? The rest of the sites aren’t really that worthwhile for them and there’s no way they are getting inside the Heart..........wait, inside?

    “Shit” he said in a voice just above a whisper. Ros who was nearby though heard his disquiet and probed into it.

    “What’s wrong?”

    “They’re at Av’ilon” replied Met and began to signal to the others as he changed his heading.

    “Av’ilon?” asked Ros
    “The Heart of the Forest” was the hasty reply

    “But I thought....”

    “I don’t have time to explain, we have to get there quickly” he said cutting off Ros and began to head off at a strong pace. The others, confused but unable to do anything else quickly followed after him.

    It wasn’t long before they came into a clearing and looked upon a sight that was beyond what all of them had seen before. Even Met had never seen such a sight, for it was not what he had seen before. It was scarred though now, and unlike what it should have been. The place held a darkness to it and all manner of creatures and abominations occupied the area with the Dark Envoy’s chanting their magic in unison to raise the creatures.

    “I had forgotten...” began Met as Ros and Wolf stood on either side of him, “That so many have tried to enter this place and have failed. A perfect place for these Dark Envoy’s”.

    “Atleast we have found them” said Ros, his face now grim and black at the sight. What he saw offended his instincts and even the wolves were snarling and on edge.

    “Let us take down these things then” said Wolf and turned to organise the rest of them.

    As he did so, Met rushed down into the throng of creatures his fist filled with energy and threw a punch that smashed a skeleton into pieces. Turning he fired off a beam of energy that seared through beasts made from the land and brought upon himself the attention of the Dark Envoy’s.

    “That fool!” snarled Wolf, “Quickly, we must rush in aswell” he said to the others and everyone else piled into the fray, a battle now erupting in the inconsistent terrain turning the battle into a hectic and disarrayed set of fights.

    The initially stunned Dark Envoy’s were caught off guard and their minions fell quickly before the attackers, but they soon regained themselves and began to launch a counter attack, and slowly the Defence Force found themselves being pushed to their limits.