High above the misery and destruction, Varrus, the dark envoy, appeared amidst a cloud of thick black smoke. His mount Death snorted furiously as he held position above the Magical Isle and surveyed the carnage his forces had wrought.

"Curses! What has he done to my beautiful army!"

Even from a distance the dark mage could sense the tremendous power being wielded so very far below. Every so often a flash of pure brilliant light would shine up from the 'Isle and cause ...