Match of the Millennium

Description: The Lion and the Dragon meet at last but which of them is destined to reign in this contest of fire, steel and fangs?

[LEO WHITEFANG]
At one point he had half a mind to just leave this ridiculous competition. It wasn't enough that he was blown out of the sky by sabotage over an NOL base and then attacked by their soldiers in an attempt to claim the bounty on his head from that organization.

It wasn't even that he discovered that the insane ninja who set upnn him, seemingly with true murderous intent that incited the full on rage of the king...turned out to be the official match itself causing Leo to question the sanity of this event. That was nothing less then an assisination attempt disguised as a tournament match as far as he was concerned.

No, it was that he then discovered that his peer, The First King, Sir Ky Kiske, had his match back in Illyria. Meaning that Leo Whitefang's rush to depart was never necessary to begin with and he could be home right now despite doing so under the understanding that Ky was leaving to face his own opponent. Such embaressement and frustration is not something Leo manages well.

But then he discovered the double edged sword of information that revealed that Ky unfortunantely lost his first match....but that he was awarded the victory to his. Though disappointed to learn of his friend's loss, the fact of his own victory did cause him to reconsider matters. Of course he won. Naturally that must mean thre's some merit to those running this thing.

And so, now, is next match awaits here before the glorious Arc de Triomphe with a broad open field set aside for the two combatants. Leo emerges from his limo, trench coat trailing behind him as he steps forward and straightens up to grab the lapels of his coat and straighten his garments as he looks about. "Hmph. A much more fitting arena then some dense forest outside some dank NOL facility....".

[FEI LONG]
Leo's opponent this round is no assassin, no bounty hunter, no antagonist-- though he has portrayed all that and more. Fei Long is a name well known in the East, everywhere within the realm of influence of Hong Kong cinema, and several of his most recent films have seen international acclaim, alongside a corresponding surge in Fei Long's wealth and popularity.

Neither of which are why the Flying Dragon does any of this, mind-- but it also increases the influence of the disciplined lifestyle of Hiten-ryu, reinforces good nutrition and fighting for one's dreams, and allows the action star to engage any number of causes that matter to him; something evidenced in his engagement with a very different ninja when he fought Kasumi to a narrow victory in his own first round.

The danger is not something which Fei Long lies oblivious to, however-- it is just part and parcel with this kind of contest... even before the evil psychic dictator gets involved. To better himself, to push his fighting form farther, Fei Long must face off against not only peers, but true masters of all stripes, powerhouses and prodigies.

And so along the southern compass point of the Arc de Triomphe's vast plaza, there is an uproar as the Flying Dragon makes his way along a corridor of fans packed in like sardines, hoping for an autograph-- or a photo. Many of these pursuits are indulged as the Hong Kong star makes his smiling, waving, and posing way to the assigned arena. The streets around them are packed with tour busses and double-decker coaches, fans lining the streets, filling the roads, watching with binoculars from the buildings surrounding them.

Even the Eiffel Tower strains to peek over from its vigil on the horizon. "I have never fought a King before." Fei Long observes with humble respect and forthright frankness as he crosses out into the open area to face the Whitefang. "Well, for real, at least. I am eager to see what you can do; and what you can add to the whole being lifestyle and art of Hiten-ryu!" The audience, at least, clearly agree, a bellow of applause and aplomb filling the air as the announcer begins to introduce the bout at hand.

[LEO WHITEFANG]
The Second King basks in the applause and adoration of the audience. A man with such a high opinion of himself as Leo is certainly apprecative when the rest of the world...

Oh wait. Those weren't for him. Bother.

He feels noticably lacking now, having not brought any of his Sacred Order troops and attendants to this match. Merely a limo driver who cries out: "It's Fei Long!" as if just now realizing who Leo's match is against. Leo frowns.

But the frown doesn't last long. Fei Long's charisma is undeniable and if not downright infectous and the burly king can't help but simply set aside all of the vexing elements and instead make his way towards his side of the combat arena.

His iron cross greatblades melt into existence as he walks and he raises them aloft, whirling them on either arm like pinwheels of flashing light before dropping down into a battle stance before the approaching martial arts master.

"...And I've never faced a man of your talents in cinema before. I think we'll both learn much from this encounter. I look forward to it." he declares with a broadening grin. "At your leisure then."

COMBATSYS: Leo Whitefang has started a fight here.

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Leo Whitefang    0/-------/-------|

[FEI LONG]
The Flying Dragon against the Whitefang. The rising star versus the King of Illyria! Perhaps Fei Long is more overtly famous-- perhaps... but there are surely no shortage of cheers for Leo alongside it.

"Some art imitates life!" It's the closest to boastful Fei Long gets in this moment-- and in truth, it's less of a warning... than a statement of the level on which the Hong Kong star seeks to compete. Honorifics are left to the announcements as the Flying Dragon simply offers his opponent a polite bow, cracking his neck as he then settles into a fluidly tensing, lithe ready stance.

Fei Long breathes in, he breathes out-- the countdown comes, then continues. He breathes in-- and /flashes/ from that ready stance at the ringing of the bell, crossing the distance between himself and the Whitefang in a flash of instant momentum. At the last span, Fei Long launches himself into the air, just high enough to center a snapping kick on Leo's ribcage.

Should that probing snap find purchase, Fei Long's entire form inverts in another instant, driving his opposite leg up and around, then with crashing, brain-rattling impact into the King of Illyria's noble skull. "HAAAH-YAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

COMBATSYS: Fei Long has joined the fight here.

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Fei Long         0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0    Leo Whitefang

COMBATSYS: Leo Whitefang blocks Fei Long's Engekishu.

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Fei Long         0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0    Leo Whitefang

[LEO WHITEFANG]
A resounding *CLANG* ripples through the battlefield as Fei's kick lands powerfully against the flats of one of Leo's outstretched blades. The impact forces him back, sliding a few paces with a whirlwind of dust and Leo grins and grimaces from the force of it. This is, indeed, more what he signed up for. There was the frenetic battle that was a clear attempt on his life in the name of entertainment....and then there is this. A clash of titans seeking to test their skills against one another for the benefit of all.

One might presume, at first glance, for this to be a slight mismatch as well. Leo's gigantic blades seem practically the equal to Fei Long's whole figure and yet the martial artist wouldn't be on the World Warrior stage if his capabilities were not equally the same threat that a swinging swipe from one of those swords would be. THere is magic at work here to keep his striikes from being deadly but make no mistake, Fei Long is just as dangerous a weapon as his swords. Perhaps more so.

This is put to the test as Leo pushes back against the unarmed fighter, attempting to shove him into the air and away from him ont he momentum of his own assault. He then dashes forward in a rush down of movement, following after Fei with his blades trailing chi of gold and silver as he seeks to cross him up with a slashing strike that'd end up leaving him with his back to the superstar in the aftermath.

COMBATSYS: Fei Long blocks Leo Whitefang's Kaltes Gestober Erst.

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Fei Long         0/-------/-----==|=------\-------\0    Leo Whitefang

[FEI LONG]
Another flash of motion, another resounding report of mystical steel against resilent muscle. Again, the plaza is filled with a wind produced only through immovable object meeting impossible force.

This time it's Fei Long's braced arm that intercepts the flat of Leo's blade as the pair of warriors cross in an instant, shoving off of the point of impact and twisting through the air as the sheer force of said launches the Flying Dragon clear. He spins back to a ready footing for only another half-breath, shaking away the pain in his blocking arm in the same movement.

From that recovered stance, the action star rejoins the fray /directly/... and abruptly. With a fervent kiai, a tremulous flexing of exposed musculature, and a mighty leap into the air, Fei Long seems propelled like a missile at his adversary's face in a classic, iconic kung-fu flying kick.

In the parlance of Hiten-ryu, this is the Rending Air Kick. In some less respectful fandom circles, it's called the Fei Long Chicken Wing! Either way, any impact is followed by a tightly coiled, forward roll, axing his opposite foot down atop Leo in a tremendous, slamming double-tap that carries the Flying Dragon's full weight and momentum behind both in turn.

COMBATSYS: Leo Whitefang blocks Fei Long's Rekkukyaku.

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Fei Long         0/-------/----===|==-----\-------\0    Leo Whitefang

[LEO WHITEFANG]
Two fighters could not be so different and yet, from appearances thus far at least, so evenly matched. For one, despite their size differences, Leo moves like a flash of lightning threaded with silver and gold. His offensive strike against Fei has him sliding to a stop in his back facing stance from which he then whirls into a defensive posture in anticipation of Fei's incoming counter strike without even seeing where the man is at. The effort pays off as the diving attack is caught again by Leo's blades acting as a vast defensive shield as the stalwart monarch brings his swords up behind him. In a blink and you miss it moment the follow up attack is blocked again as his body turns to shoulder the brunt of the axe kick. Leo braces against its force as Fei Long descends downward upon him with the force of a sledgehammer forcing a grimace from him though it soon turns into a tight lipped smile.

His blades whirl about again, gleaming in the bright sunlight as he presses the assault against Fei in a flurry of movements and bears down upon the martial artist with relentless movements. This time a single sword swipe whirls its way in as Leo dips into his stance once more and turns with a violent side swiping assault that drags silver and gold through the air behind like jagged claw slashes.

COMBATSYS: Fei Long parries Leo Whitefang's Kahn Schild!

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Fei Long         0/-------/--=====|=------\-------\0    Leo Whitefang

[FEI LONG]
As an old master once noted, size and gender are poor predicters of one's martial arts! "Stalwart!" The Flying Dragon congratulates the larger-framed fellow, as resilient, perfectly aligned steel quashes much of the impact of his honed Hiten-ryu hits. The King of Illyria is a monolithic maelstrom, at once a fortress and its lightning defense-in-depth, giving just enough room to punish. For a moment, that is the plight Fei Long finds himself in. He lands, overextended, in that maelstrom.

The cleaving blade strikes out, threatens to bisect him... as Fei Long bends, in tandem with the flash of steel, backwards until his shoulderblades -actually- touch the plaza beneath their feet. The stroke passes above him, the blades of chi rip through air, and in the wake of the strike the Flying Dragon kips to strong footing without missing a single beat. Pressed, threatened, some would say caught dead to rights, the Flying Dragon remains like the Water.

He flows beneath the stroke, and then the currents rush in to fill the gap, and with that kick to solid footing comes a snapping right aligned squarely with Leo's face. "HAAAAH!!!" It's followed by a second, Fei Long's left striking low, underhand for a swift triphammer at Leo's ribcage. "YAAAAH!!!" That would be followed by a sharp, instantaneous spin, carrying the right around in a brutal, skull-vectored backfist. "KKKKH-YAAAH!"

COMBATSYS: Fei Long successfully hits Leo Whitefang with Rekkaken EX.
- Power hit! -

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Fei Long         1/-------/=======|====---\-------\0    Leo Whitefang

[LEO WHITEFANG]
It was inevitable that this sort of dance wasns't going to continue, despite the speed of the king. For one, Fei Long's flowing evasion of his previous strike catches Leo off guard. His eyes widen as time seems to slow around the two warriors. Sparks fly from his blades as they rend against the concrete and Leo's large body lunges into the momentum of the blow as he utters, "..Fascinating---"

And that's all the time he has for any sort of compliment as an instnat later his world goes white hot and red hot as flames burst about him accompanying the wallo battering strikes of each of Fei Long's fists. The first blow alone nearly enough to send him skidding backwards but the second and then the third and that flash of flames that sends embers spiraling up wildly into the air and about the kings bat battered body sends him into a wild tumble with a clattering clang of his weapons and more sparks flying as he drags them across the ground.

His eyes squint shut and then fly back open as he goes into a roll that sets him back upright again and then vaults into a leaping spin that brings his blades whipping around him in a whirlwind of flashing steel. The attack isn't powerful but seems meant to push Fei Long back away from him as he resets the battlefield and regains his wits.

"Hungh. Well done! I wasn't expecting -that- by any means!"

COMBATSYS: Fei Long counters Evasive Strike from Leo Whitefang with Shoenryu EX.

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Fei Long         1/-----==/=======|=======\-------\0    Leo Whitefang

[FEI LONG]
"Expect everything, yet nothing." Fei Long swiftly advises, as if any of that was according to HIS plan, rather than pulled directly from unspoken nethers. Then again, that chaotic turn is also in-line with his advice, isn't it?

The Flying Dragon is quick to capitalize, not giving the space Leo desires over to the Illyrian Overlord. Instead, the blade comes down, and Fei Long sweeps it aside, a precise, forceful palm to the flat of the deadly artifact.

With that motion, the Flying Dragon fluidly steps in on Whitefang, twisting a half-turn in momentum-building tandem before his right fist, wreathed in fire, -snaps- outwards like a jackhammer, delivering a one-inch punch to Leo's solar plexus as the King lands. Fiery energy erupts into, around the strike, forceful enough to send most hurtling back from whene they came. Fei Long's kiai rings in harmony with the shock and awe of the crowd, watching the chaotic turn of this bout... and demanding more.

[LEO WHITEFANG]
He's wide open for that. The blow slams into him thunderously, roaring into him with an explosion of chi that makes it seem almost as if Fei had planted a booster engine of some sort right on the large mans torso and ignited it with his strike. Blood is yanked from his mouth as he gasps from the force and his eyes s quint and then bug out slightly as the assault sends The Second King skids backwards, arms raising upwards and then plunging downwards to bring his blades to the ground in an attempt to arrest his backwards momentum. Sparks fly as grooves and skidmarks are scorched into the earth. Leo's eyes squint and his teeth grit and it looks almost as if he's poised to double over.

Until his eyes fly open and he launches forward back at Fei Long again. His baritone voice echoes loudly, as if trying to keep up with his movements as he calls out, "The dragon is truly showing its fangs--!"

Another raging pass through attempt occurs as Leo dashes into and past Fei Long, skids and then comes back the other way with flashing chi whirling around the two combatants as his swords whipcrack into action on the strikes.

"But the lion is still king!"

On the final pass through he turns and lunges into a leaping spin. Both of his swords whirling out once again as he lifts skywards with a trail of energy behind him and his swords attempting to catch Fei Long in their buzzsaw like movements as he spins them into a flashing pinwheel of an assault.

"EISEN STURM!"

COMBATSYS: Leo Whitefang blitzes into action and acts again!

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Fei Long         1/-----==/=======|=======\-------\0    Leo Whitefang

COMBATSYS: Fei Long blocks Leo Whitefang's Kaltes Gestober Zweit.

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Fei Long         1/--=====/=======|======-\-------\0    Leo Whitefang

COMBATSYS: Leo Whitefang knocks away Fei Long with Eisen Sturm.

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Fei Long         2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|=======\=------\1    Leo Whitefang

[FEI LONG]
Back, forth, a flashing bolt of cutting steel stalks in the name of the Whitefang. It is appropriate nomenclature. Hardened forearms and deflecting elbows and palms meet many of those strokes with impressive speed on the part of the Flying Dragon in turn.

Over and again Leo meets only hardened guard, draws only shallow wounds in tensed, tempered muscle. For those moments, in those blurs of attack and defense, it might seem the action star is truly invincible, truly on an unstoppable roll-- and then the Flying Dragon takes a very different sort of cartwheeling flight.

Up and away in a reaving bladestorm, Fei Long's torso and arms are cut, an almost stylish slice opening shallowly across his left eye, and despite the bloodied pain the Hiten-ryu progenitor backflips clear of the aftermath, landing hard on one knee and its opposite foot and catching his face inches from the ground with one flexed arm. He heaves a deep, steadying breath, tenses and stretches his muscles as he rises, and-- grins over to the King of Illyria.

No assassin, indeed. His dark eyes study the swordsman, his inner chi flares as he stands resolute in the face of this newest, perhaps most dangerous test on his path along the course of the World Warrior.

"Noble beasts, both; but this is far from finished, yet!" Perhaps not 'far', Fei Long-- but the sentiment is true, and virtuous. This is what matters more.

COMBATSYS: Fei Long focuses on his next action.

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Fei Long         1/---<<<</<<<<<<<|=======\=------\1    Leo Whitefang

[LEO WHITEFANG]
The gap is closed it seems but Fei Long is correct. It's not over yet....and Leo is ready to change that.

His body staggers a bit, feeling the battering and scorch marches inflicted across his frame but he straightens back up again. He practically feels the determination of Fei Long as a palpable force resonating over the arena and he grins, pointing one blade at him as he shoulders the other.

"Right you are, sir Fei Long....and for that reason I commit my all to this in order to bring this to a close! Prepare yourself!"

Hardly have the words left his mouth ihas he lunged forward like a shell from a battleship, attempting to close that distance between himself and the martial artist in the space of a heartbeat before Fei Long can finish centering hinself.

"Noble beasts they both are but it is the king that must stand triumphant!"

His blades whirl out as he draws in again, a flashing flurry of strikes that send sparks hurtling through the air and blazing aura's chi arcing about in seemingly every possible direction at once. The flurry of strikes descending on and around Fei Long in a blur of speeds the cameras themselves would struggle to keep pace with, let alone the untrained eye.

At the end of it all, the roaring king pivots into another leaping assault that seeks to carry Fei Long with him if successful, for another cross bladed assault that leaves an iron cross shaped slash of energy in the air behind him at the apex of the leap.

"Leidenschaft Dirigent!!

COMBATSYS: Fei Long interrupts Leidenschaft Dirigent from Leo Whitefang with Shien Renkyaku EX.
-* CRITICAL HIT! *-

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Fei Long         0/-------/=======|====---\-------\0    Leo Whitefang

[FEI LONG]
Leo is true to his word. He brings his all. The King of Illyria seeks to End this Fight. On this, and the hierarchy of beasts, though? "We may just have to agree to disagree, on this." Fei Long murmurs as much to himself as to Leo, or anyone else. Blades and blazing chi erupt at the Flying Dragon in a fearsome flurry, and even his trained eyes have difficulty keeping up.

The blazing blades raise bloody cuts across the Hong Kong star's bare torso, up both of his arms-- though these cuts are centered on his forearms and bloodied knuckles as time and again amidst the swift staccato the Flying Dragon manages to deflect and diminish hits. The agile action star's footing follows the onslaught, twists and weaves, his entire frame tenses... more than focusing past the pain, he uses it.

"HAAAAAAAH--" Leo seeks to take the battle airborne-- and in a way, the King gets his mandate fulfilled. Except just before that collision-- just as Whitefang commits to his final leap-- Fei Long's footing erupts in an instantaneous bonfire. The progenitor of Hiten-ryu inverts in nearly that same instant, driving the first of his fiery feet upwards and into Leo.

A superheated shockwave erupts outwards from this impact, washing across the awed crowd. Suddenly, with the force of that vertical flip-kick and the gold-cored, roaring flames, Whitefang is instead launched into the air by Fei Long, punished again by the cartwheeling addition of a second inferno of a kicking limb. The King finds himself robbed of that final, fight-ending momentum in its absolute last frames before that photo finish. Bloodied, but not beaten, it is the Flying Dragon who descends lightly, lithely, prepared for more.

"Clearly... we require... more /debate/." The chuckle that follows is pained; but not out of any quipping shame.

[LEO WHITEFANG]
A bloodied bruised fireball.

The King of Illyria falls to the earth, enflamed and teeth gritting in agony. He's not sure what hurt more. The impacts or the fire.

Both. Both hurt more.

His touchdown upon the earth is thunderous, His blades clatter violently and fire ripples out in every direction., trailing after im like some sort of comets tail as he rolls and then attempts to use the momentum of his movements to push himself back to a standing position to land upright.

He nearly fails, almost coming down to his knees and only able to arrest his fall all together by using hsi sword to brace his weight.

"Urgh.." is all he manages to grunt out in response to Fei Long's quip. Not exactly very kingly of him that. But when he finally pulls it together and looks up, his blue eyes are sharp once more and he grins at Fei Long, the bloodied mess of his face still beaming wih the monarch's pride.

"I take it you paid for that..but nevertheless I took the greater cost. Well done Fei Long. But we're not done."

He staggers, straightening up to his full height, despite the arche in his bones and the searing burn scars scorched across his burly frame. He lifts one of the great swords up and points it towards Fei Long now. "The lion's pride will not yield so easily. You've earned yourself one final encore performance so come. Finish this script!"
%His wits and bad quips are about him once again at the least.

COMBATSYS: Leo Whitefang focuses on his next action.

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Fei Long         0/-------/=======|====---\-------\0    Leo Whitefang

COMBATSYS: Fei Long issues a challenge!!

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Fei Long         0/-------/-======|====---\-------\0    Leo Whitefang

[FEI LONG]
"I pay it gladly."

Fei Long's observation rings more humble than boastful. It is this kind of test, this kind of trial that he is here to undergo. "I have learned much from you already, King of Illyria." Eloquence and sharp wit notwithstanding, the Whitefang's combat prowess is a rare breed indeed. Fei Long waits on lithe footing while Leo regains his own-- but he does not wait long.

"But neither of our spirit totems or namesakes will win the day /here/." The Flying Dragon breathes in, his musculature tenses, his inner chi focuses. He's running along the border of exhaustion, he's still bleeding, his body cries out for rest... and tea. Tea would be nice. The Hong Kong star is not quite calm, but he is /intense/ about it; no trepidation detected.

"When all is said and done, the winner is decided by the strength of one's spirit and kung-fu!!" And in a flash, Fei Long is upon Whitefang. His weight comes around as if to carry into a potent uppercut, but instead it's the right foot that snaps around, a sweeping hook for Leo's leading ankle, meant to abruptly unbalance the King of Illyria forwards towards his opponent.

Leo's opponent then would, with cat-like grace, flip right overtop of Leo, back to back, landing in a fluid crouch with the intention to sweep -both- of Leo's feet from beneath him, just as abruptly and -substantially- more violently, with a roaring kiai.

COMBATSYS: Fei Long successfully hits Leo Whitefang with Tenshin EX.

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Fei Long         1/-------/=======|=====--\-------\0    Leo Whitefang

[LEO WHITEFANG]
A blur of silver. a flash of gold. Leo charges. A bolt of lightning, ripping and roaring across the battlefield - right into Fei Long's rapid fire flurry of blows. Just a -hair- too slow to gain the momentum needed to pre-empt Fei Long's attacks with his own.

He adjusts, at the very last instant, hardening his body and twisting his form as the martial arts master lands his first series of blows against him, causing his feet to be swept up and his great body to go tumbling forward and then again violently into a full on cartwheel as his world is up ended and he crashes violently earthwards from the barrage of Fei Long's sweeping assault. His crash rings with metal and the heavy thud of his flesh with a sense of finality as his face plants directly into the unforgiving ground and his world flashes white and red hot.

But the lion is not quite tamed yet. Almost so. Practically so.

A sudden burst of power roars into him as he rolls forward and then pushes to his feet again, whipping his coat around as he lands, spinning to face Fei Long and then he dashes forward once more. The movement is fluid, continuous and almost like liquid metal as his blades flash out in close quarters. His dash rushes past the star, kicking up violent dust, stone and splatters of blood in one stroke - and then another as he comes back the opposite way and then another stroke as he comes again and then another stroke as he spins his weapons about in a final pass through attempt that sends him leaping skywards with the assault - and then back down again to the ground to crash to his knees and tumble forward, failing to even catch himself with his swords or arms. It's such a fast series of assaults it's like a dashing array of light that culminates in the Second King's ultimate faill.

COMBATSYS: Leo Whitefang can no longer fight.

[                     \\\\\\\\\  <
Fei Long         1/-------/=======|

COMBATSYS: Fei Long blocks Leo Whitefang's Kaltes Gestober Dritt.

[                        \\\\\\  <
Fei Long         1/-======/=======|

[FEI LONG]
The Lion strikes swiftly-- but the Dragon is coiled, ready, dangerous even bloodied; perhaps moreso. Fei Long flows around his opponent like the water, a swift surge, a sudden shifting current, a swift rush around a bend-- and a roaring clash that steals Whitefang's very footing.

The action star remains stalwart in the aftermath, certain the King of Illyria's final challenge will not go unfulfilled-- and indeed, Fei Long is not disappointed. With a rush of clarity alongside practiced acuity, the Flying Dragon simply flows with those finishing strokes rather than seeking to predict them, or fully analyze the technique.

Fei Long retains his zen in the heart of the storm, and time and again blurring, light-flaring blades are deflected high, driven low, the Hong Kong superstar dancing and weaving away from each potentially final impact. One mis-step, and he would join Leo in collapse at the technique's ebb; and likely far more violently so.

There is no mis-step, however. Only new, shallow cuts. Blood seeping from a myriad wounds, trailing down and across the Hiten-ryu progenitor's lithely corded musculature. As Leo collapses, Fei Long wobbles. Side-steps. Catches himself, and draws a deep, steadying breath. His head is ringing too loudly to hear what the announcer declares, his lips musing a murmured, "Welcome to the Jungle..." addressed to no one in particular.

COMBATSYS: Fei Long has ended the fight here.

Log created on 17:29:28 09/28/2023 by Leo Whitefang, and last modified on 21:06:08 10/07/2023.