The Cold Awakens
Long ago, in a quadrant not far from North Shore...
Rain lashes down on the misty plains of North Willoughby, cloaking the battlefield in shadows. Cold winds howl through the gum trees. Somewhere deep within the mud and the mist, a new war brews — one not of planets, but of pride.
The Jedi of Bellevue Hill, Cranbrook, descend from their mountaintop temple, led by warriors of speed and steel. They do not come for ceremony. They come to fight.
But waiting for them in the sleet, blades already drawn, is the Aloysian Syndicate — an ancient brotherhood cloaked in flair, their movements elegant, their attack surgical. Light clashes with shadow. Footwork with fury. Mud with menace.
It is Round 1.
It is cold.
It is Rugby.
Cranbrook by 15+