WMDF/ELVINA/LICH.
"I found something a touch more glamorous," Divina replied, holding up the great sword with both hands. While the moods of her allies were dampened by the Dark, the fell knight found herself buoyed. She welcomed the Dark-stained air in her lungs, well-acquainted with the hollow yearning it left in the pit of her stomach, in her very bones. The Dark would harm her, certainly, but she was no stranger to it, had learned to freely offer herself to it. While sustaining attacks was not Divina's forte, in this situation, where the opponent thrived off the same sustenance as she, she knew she would find herself more resistant than usual.
Unfortunately, the situation also put her at an offensive disadvantage. Or perhaps fortunately—the excitement built up in Divina like a wild thing, setting her senses ablaze, her fists clenching and unclenching around the hilt of her weapon, weight shifting from foot to foot. She had been practicing Hone Senses for Faram knew how long, and here at last was the opportunity to see the payoff.
With every sensation heightened, Divina bounded up to the Lich and slammed the great sword on it with Furore. The blow knocked the Lich back a few paces. Before it could retaliate, noting that Rictor was already standing by one mage, Divina moved in to take a defensive position in front of the other. Darius, she recognized, before returning her attention to the battle at hand.