With every attack Baron Glorfile struck into the purple sphere, the denser and more lively it became, radiating an innate air of pure and utter destruction….a move you should do your upmost to avoid lest you wish to experience a swift death.
Unfortunately Rathborne had already made his choice. By the time he recognised his folly his left arm was already striking against Cavalish, to retreat now would only serve to open him up for a more disastrous counter.
"Roar!!!!" To embolden his nerves Rathborne roared with all the air held in his lungs, his every muscle became taught, and his aggressive forward steps were laced with a weight that even a mammoth would struggle to match.
A lot happened within the space of a couple seconds, but Frost and his allies didn't miss a beat, their eyes glued to their screens as the somewhat blurry and chaotic forms of Rathborne, Cavalish and Baron Glorfile made ruinous contact.
