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Kondor



Joined: Apr 04, 2008

Post   Posted: Mar 27, 2017 - 15:49 Reply with quote Back to top

Archie, the teenager who worked as a courier for the Archers of Avelon found a seat on the bench along side of Kondor. This was the first Blood Bowl match he had been allowed to attend. In fact, since his family were simple miners, they could not afford CabalVision much less a magical mirror necessary to watch games. This would be the first time he actually witnessed a professional match.

Kondor watched the wide eyed lad as he took in as much of the spectacle as he could. The poor bugger. Once you see a match in person you are never quite the same. Either it nips you and you can't get enough or someone finds you outside the arena vomiting before halftime and mumbling about what you just witnessed.

Sliding closer to Archie he noticed the lad eyeballing the dark elf cheerleaders. He patted the lad on the shoulder. “Don't even think about it. If they got their claws into fresh meat like you they would never let go. You would be crying for your mother one second and begging them to be their eternal slave the next. Trust me. Stick with human cheerleaders for now. At least they are predictable.”

Archie shook his head and moved his attention to the dark elf team. To his shock, they were blatantly sharpening an assortment of knives and practicing with some shadow stabbing.

“Isn't that illegal?” he asked.

Kondor pointed to the Archers who were going through the exact same ritual.

“The truth is that it is only illegal if it is a secret weapon that was not agreed upon before the match. The dark elves and high elves hate each other enough that they readily agree to allowing in game knife fights. Don't worry too much though. With all the armor both sides are wearing combined with the agility of the combatants, the blades rarely do any real damage.”

The ogre referee called both teams to mid field and examined the blades. All fell within the designated limits, and no one had slipped in with something like a bomb. Still, that did not stop him from being overly thorough with his pat-down of the witch elf which resulted in two dislocated ogre fingers and a smiling witch elf.

The referee howled in pain and shook his hand until a line judge popped the digits back into place. Kondor laughed knowing that if she had really taken offense she would have chopped the fingers off. No. That was her way of inviting him to the locker room after the match. The referee would be a fool to show up for that party.

With only a few minute until the kick-off a tall, slender, shirtless chap in tight white leather pants sat down next to Kondor. The gold chains around his neck clanked together and jeweled rings glistened on every finger. It looked like he has not shaved in about three days but that fact is easily missed due to the distraction caused by the large white top hat with a peacock feather tucked in the band that rested atop his head.

“C98, I saved you the best seat in the house.” said Kondor.

“No you didn't.” Replied C98. “It is my house. I own this arena and this seat.”

To avoid an argument, Kondor handed him a mug of Buggman's “That is true but I brought enough of this to keep you happy.”

C98 smiled just as a whistle blew in the background signaling the initiation of the match.

The action on the field was hard to follow. Elves ran in every direction. The ball flew back and forth. Yet the crowd paid no attention to the score. At some point, a dark elf blitzer got a clear shot at Iondil who just managed to shoot an arm in front of her face preventing a blade from being lodged in her throat. But the dagger stabbed clean through her leather covered forearm sending her to the bench with blood pouring down her arm.

Corbis immediately picked up his suturing kit. Finally an injury he could handle. By halftime the stitches and bandages were secure and Iondil returned to the field.

In the meantime the blitzer Ares proved to be too skilled the rookie line elf he faced. He knocked her to the turf at the feet of Apollo who did not hesitate. Dropping to a knee he brought his blade down in a coup de gras and buried it between her shoulder blades. Just to add insult he left the blade in his victim, the coolly turned and returned to the match.

C98 stretched out his hand and Kondor filled it with a bag of gold without saying a word.

Moments later there was another cry of pain and the Archer kicker Osonia was carried on a stretcher to the locker room. The word was that there was a deep wound to her back and her career was in jeopardy.

Once again Kondor dropped a bag of gold into C98's outstretched palm.

Finally, it was the Archers who did some damage. Ortalion saw the witch elf Hera at his feet and deftly drove her blade into the opponents abdomen in what looked to be a fatal blow.

This time it Kondor put out his hand palm up but C98 wagged one finger back and forth.

The dark elf apothecary was on the field. He pulled Hera to the sideline, withdrew the dagger. She then dipped a mug into a bloody cauldron and poured the liquid into the wound. Hera screeched in agony and writhed for a few seconds on the turf then pushed herself to her feet. Incredibly, she would return to the game with the next kickoff.

Kondor frowned and put his hands in his pockets.

At last the final whistle blew and the scoreboard showed that the Archers of Avelon had been in the endzone once more than there dark elf opponents.

C98 chuckled and headed for the locker room. “Any time you want to loose some gold we can schedule another match.”

Kondor waved and turned to look for Archie but he was gone. Looking around he saw the boy walking with a pair of dark elf cheerleaders. As much as he hated to be sentimental he couldn't leave the lad to that fate. He tapped ogre referee on the shoulder and suggested he take the place of Archie. The ogre, grinning widely, rushed off to the rescue.


Last edited by Kondor on Mar 27, 2017 - 20:49; edited 1 time in total
Kondor



Joined: Apr 04, 2008

Post   Posted: Mar 27, 2017 - 18:20 Reply with quote Back to top

Spring was coming to Six Feet Mine, corpses were defrosting out of the iced over mud that passes as the Underdogs' pitch, the preserved viscera, entrails and associated gibbets adding a lively splash of colour to the scene. The tranquil cawing of the overfed scavenging birds feasting on the dead is periodically punctuated by the screams of trainee goblins being fired from the salvaged man-mangler catapult positioned on the quarry edge, usually followed by the sort of crunching thud that indicates a sporting career cut short, all in the name of TTM training. One particularly squelshy thud, followed by laughter and jeers from the more experiences green skins manning the catapult, is the result of an unfortunate rookie splattering himself over the gable end of the old tumbled down mine owner’s house that serves as the team’s headquarters.

Inside Gerald barely flinches as several large stones topple through the club house ceiling, having been dislodged by the impact. With him are the two surviving senior skaven of the team – Ba’rat and Xar’anx – planning their next match.

“We need to mark this auspicious occasion with some sort of exhibition game” declared Gerald “it is, after all, our 200th game.”

“BRAINS!” agreed Xar’anx enthusiastically.

“We should do something really BIG – in memory of those who have willingly given their trivial little lives fighting gloriously for me” Gerald starts to solemnly intone the names “Green-goo, once the greatest living Underworld goblin … little Spiriu …”

Lem the rotter-dog mascot of the team whimpers sadly at the mention of his beloved Spiriu, a diminutive runt that the hound treated like a pup.

“Err… I don’ think y’ can say Spiriu died willingly boss” ventures the older of the two Ba’rat heads “I mean you did eat ‘im.”

“An’ we wun’t ‘ave known if it wern’t fer ‘is boot getting’ stuck ‘tween yer teeth” adds the younger.

A momentary look of shame skimmed over the Marquis’s face. “Well I didn’t know I’d eaten him – he was so small, hardly touched the sides, plus it was his fault – he had some breakfast bacon in his pockets, you know how I get when I smell bacon, and it was almost time for the half time snacks. But that is not the point” he rallied “we must celebrate their help in achieving the goal I set you all in the summer, do you remember Ba’rat?”

“’Ow could we forget boss, you in that swimmin’ cozzie, I wanna claw me own eyes out jus’ thinkin’ ‘bout it.”

“Brains” adds Xar’anx nodding agreement, perhaps a little too vigorously as his lower jaw part detaches from his decaying face.

“Ah – but do you recall the nature of the commitment we undertook – to have won or drawn more games than we had lost by the time we reach 200 matches. Something we have achieved wonderfully well. This is truly something we should mark with a particularly memorable event… but what to do?”

“’Ow ‘bout usin’ sum ov tha’ old dynamite stuff to mine the pitch? Should giv’ th’ game a bang” suggests the younger Ba’rat.

“Nah did that for new year – remember ‘ow them stupid orcs got turned into pretty green and red fireworks?” counters the older of the brothers “what about playin’ in one of them tournies for a change?”

“Alas we cannot commit to the extended schedule of matches, you know how stressed the night goblins get if we are away from the caves for more than a day” sighs Gerald, who would secretly like to take the U-dogs into a major tournament but knows in his oversized and distended gut that the team would end up missing matches due to the problems of finding transport willing to carry his rag-tag band of freaks.

“What about…” starts Ba’rat when the door to the senior team room bursts open as T-man and Tooth-pic, two goblins on the team who show an iota of skill, burst through without knocking.

“..rainz!” exclaims Xar’anx in surprise, his mandible still partially disarticulated.

“Boss” shouts the breathless T-man “therz someone commin’ up th’ road, I thinkz iz Mh…. Mh…”

“Iz MOhhh… MOhhh” adds Tooth-pic unhelpfully

“Iz MORG!” finish the overexcited goblins in unison



A few minutes later, after wading through a throng of fan-boy goblins clambering over each other for his autograph, Morg ‘n’ Thorg is sat in pride of place on Gerald’s chaise-lounge sipping tea from the least cracked cup in the house, as Gerald himself bustles around fruitlessly attempting to make the room look presentable. Lem is curled around Morg’s feet, Xar’anx has been dispatched with the team’s apothecary and a sewing kit to attend to his jaw and Ba’rat is herding the goblins back with a large pointy stick usually used for squig wrangling.

“I saw one of your games once on cabalvision, by accident, the magic mirror in my room was stuck on one channel” explains the quietly spoken ogre “you lost, but I was impressed by the way you played; tossing goblins about, eviscerating opponent players, you know, making sure the fans enjoyed themselves. I’ve been following your team off and on ever since. I know that you have a big landmark game coming up and thought I would offer my services to mark the occasion.”

This suggestion stops Gerald in his tracks – he sits down heavily on Ba’rat’s chair, crushing it to kindling. “That would be an honour, truly an honour my dear Morg” he exclaims “tonight I will send out to the Boggart Bottom Bakers for their finest food hamper, we will feast together and tomorrow we will play!”

And so it was that Gerald and the Underdogs stepped out onto the pitch buoyed with the smells of the Halfling Baker’s pie and a stadium resounding to chants of “MORG! MORG! MORG!” and “Ge-rald Ge-rald”.
--------------------------

The author of this installment was Squiglet. The coach of the Six Feet Underdogs.
Kondor



Joined: Apr 04, 2008

Post   Posted: Mar 27, 2017 - 18:21 Reply with quote Back to top

The knocking on the door of the Six Feet Underdogs club house finally got the attention of one of the patrons. An undead night goblin answered the door. In the doorway stood a gnome with a medical bag.

“I’m here to see yer blitzer Xar’anx.” He said.

The goblin shrugged and pointed to the banquet table. The legendary troll who was also the team owner chatted with an elegant ogre whose mug seemed very familiar. Corbis could not quite put his finger on why he should recognize the ogre and it nagged at him. Still he was here on a job so he set himself to the task.

“You must be Xar’anx.” He said to the blitzer. “The Widow and Orphan Guardians have received a donation on the behalf of the deceased Saren of the Senile Salamanders. Due to your unique talents, you have been awarded a complimentary manicure and pedicure. Please sit here and we will get started.”

“Braaains?” queried the zombie rat.

“Indeed, and they have pitched in a helping of barbecued brains.” replied the gnome settling the rat into a recliner a few meters behind his boss. The seat was out of sight but within earshot of the conversation. “You can pick up the brains in the stand outside the locker room before tomorrow’s game. Now just place your feet and claws in these buckets of acid mix to get a good soak. Yer nails will be the envy of the team when I am done.”

The buckets sizzled and popped as they soaked, but as zombies are braindead Xar’anx felt no pain. Meanwhile Corbis pulled a hand grinder and pink polish from the doctor’s bag and listened to the conversation at the table.

Gerald was already in mid conversation. “I’ve already sent a spiked ball to the referee and hired a halfling chef. What else do you recommend?”

The ogre looked pained as he thought about it. “Make sure you pay that ref well. Hopefully he will ignore a couple of fouls, and don’t forget a couple of kegs of Bloodweiser Ale. Ahh, and don’t forget to give a custard pie to Ba’rat. You never know when it will come in handy.”

After twenty minutes in the acid bath, the rats nails had fallen off of both feet and the left hand. The right hand was tricky. This was the mutated claw Corbis had been sent specifically to deal with. First he started with a hammer and pounded the talons until they broke in half. Then he went to work with the grinder. As smoke billowed from the he worried that someone may notice the smell then remembered the stench of death in the air when he walked in the room initially. Fifteen minutes later, the claws had been ground down to the nubs.”

Looking at his mangled claw, Xar’anx almost sobbed “Brainsssss…”
“Ah don’t worry big fella” said Corbis taking pity on the blitzer. “I’ll fixe em up and they’ll regenerate in about a week.”

With that, Corbis opened the can of pink polish and quickly slapped a coat covering all ten toes then the five fingers of the left hand. Then he took the time to apply a nice coat to the manicured stubs on the right hand.
“There you go.” He said with pride.

The beast looked at his digits and smiled in glee “BRAIIINS!!!”

With the work done he gathered his tools and made for the exit glancing back only to see Xar’anx hold his hands in front of Gerald for inspection. Now sprinting out the door Corbis chuckled as he heard the cursing from Gerald and full throated belly laughs from the visiting ogre.

It was a job well done. But to be on the safe side he would be sure that the concession stand offered free brains to all players before the match tomorrow.

When the players took the field the next day, Corbis figured out who the ogre at the club house had been. The announcer holding the megaphone shouted through the cone.

“Now playing in this historic match for the Six Feet Underdogs, wearing number 90, none other than the great MORRRRG ‘N Thorg.”

Some of the rookie elves looked worried. Kondor was impressed. It was the team captain Revwe who kept her composure and rallied the team.

“He is big.” She said looking at Joelena. “So what. Treat him like any other big menace. Stay away. If he can’t reach you, he can’t hit you. The rat would have been the real problem but I paid Corbis well to take care of that. He will hit you as hard as an ogre, but I doubt he will get through your armor. Honestly, if we can get Ba’rat off the field, we will win this match.”

The game itself went exactly as Revwe had predicted. Morg was frustrated and only threw three blocks the entire match. Yet Xar’anx was easily the most infuriated. Sure he was able to temporarily put a few elves on the sideline for a breather but he was unable to do any damage. After each block he looked at his former claw with mixed emotions frowning at his ineptitude the bouncing in glee at the pretty pink fingers.

Unfortunately, the other half of the prediction was equally true. Despite several shots on Ba’rat, the Archers could not bring him down. His efforts single handedly earned the Underdogs a draw.

With the game in the books, the Archers of Avelon were not happy with the results but it could have been worse. Once Corbis calculated that the Underdogs had spent at least a million gold on the game their frustration turned to pride. If it had not been for that lucky rat, this would have been a glorious upset. In actuality, the draw would be talked about in Avelon until Avelon ceased to exist. This was the day that Morg joined the game and all of the Archers lived to tell about it.

While the Archers celebrated, Kondor made his way to the office outside the Underdog locker room and found Gerald.

“Hello Gerald” greeted Kondor. “Or should I call you Coach Squiglet?”

Gerald scowled “I have not been called that in a lifetime or two. What do you want Kondor?”

“Not much. Just a rematch sometime. And I will make sure your star player is not wearing pink to the match.”

Now Gerald smirked. “You’ve got yerself a deal Runt.”
Kondor



Joined: Apr 04, 2008

Post   Posted: Mar 29, 2017 - 12:36 Reply with quote Back to top

“Hello Avelon and welcome Archer Fans to Cabalvision. The home team in tonight’s match is the Dark Elf team that you love to hate, the Blackspine Reapers. Their opponents are an up and coming High Elf team the Archers of Avelon whose efficient style of play has caught the attention of bookies and Blood Bowl junkies alike. While the Reapers have made regular appearances in primetime, this will be the premiere outing for the Archers who hope grab the attention of sponsors and fans alike.

My name is Rhys ‘Sidearm’ Gilroris and I am contractually obligated to announce Archer broadcasts for foreseeable future or until I hang myself from the curtain rod behind me. The beastman sent to announce with me was called Dawnpelt but unfortunately he had an accident upon arrival at the booth today. Yet not to worry. The corpse has been sent to the furrier and I am more than willing to work with the replacement co-host supplied by the Archers of Avelon.”

“Thanks Sidearm, and good work on that beast. I am Neesha Aludra, one of the founding members of the Archers of Avelon. The match-up today should be a good one. Anytime you put these two races on the field together, blood should flow. To date, the Blackspine Reapers have killed or maimed five different high elves, while the Archers have only managed to injure one dark elf. It is a situation the Archers hope to rectify.

For the Archers, as the underdog in today’s match, they have enlisted the support of Soaren Hightower the mercenary star thrower. However the players to watch will be the Archer regular thrower Nienna, and their team captain Revwe. Both are essential to the success of the team. For injuries you will look to #7 Idhrenfineth to bring in your side bets on blood and mayhem. She has s mean streak and could cause problems for the more lightly armored of the dark elves.”

Sidearm picks up the mike.

“For the Reapers, almost all of your attention has to go to Nerulia Sinstealer. Her moniker should be Sindealer as her skills simply should be illegal. She is quicker, more agile, and stronger than any elf on the field, and she packs a whollop of a punch. The Archers will have to figure out what to do with her if they are to have any chance in this match.

The Archers will receive the kick-off and have tilted the field to the Southern side. The kick is a lofty one and Soaren positions himself below the ball. With the efficiency ingrained in their nature, the high elves easily clear a path along the sideline and put multiple players in scoring range. Soaren has done exactly what he was hired to do. The pass to the veteran catcher Throthradir is on the money and she easily steps in for the score.

Well, the Archers have shown they can bring the elfball. Let’s see if they can play defense.”

“Hold on Rhys” said Neeaha. “There is an anomaly on the field. The sprinkler system has been turned on and is coating the entire field. I wondered why you would have a sprinkler system in an underground stadium. I am informed that they are installed not to grow turf but because the stadium is used in the offseason for other dark elf ceremonies and it is not usually water flowing through the pipes. In any case, the field is now soaked and filthy. That is going to make ball handling that much more difficult today.”

“Good reporting Neesha.” Replied Sidearm. “The half is coming to an end and as you predicted the ball is out of control but the Reapers have a shot if only the can pick it up. Wait, the ball has come free from the scrum and Kydeth has it. She will not be stopped. She SCORES to put the Archers up by two. I would not have believed that she could come out of that mess with the ball but somehow she did it.”

Now for a word from Cabalvision.

“Welcome back Blood Bowl Fans.” States sidearm. While you were away, the archers kicked the ball to the Reapers who are looking to set up a drive to get back into the game. Here comes a blitz from Neruilia who has been held in check thus far in the match. She goes straight at the Archer captain pushing her back further and further. She would be wise not to stay there for the counter punch. She dodges away but goes down in a heap! I cannot tell what has happened. Neesha, what did you see.”

“Amazing!!! I can’t believe what just happened. Neruilia came hard and fast at Revwe. She was out of control and it was a rookie mistake. Revwe stepped back and at the last moment lifted her regulation sized dagger. There is no way you could avoid it coming in that fast. Before she dodged away, she had an expression of shock, and in a veteran moment, Revwe gave a hard jerk upward on the blade. There is no way any apothecary of cauldron of blood will heal that. She is DONE!.”

“Both teams are looking on in surprise at what just happened. Look out Joelena. Oh NO! That other witch just impaled poor Joelena. I don’t think she will survive that. What you are now witnessing is a full on knife fight on the field. Both sides got a taste for blood and the hatred is boiling. A couple of Archers are badly hurt on the sideline, but the Reapers are reaping the worst of it. The runner Nisrethg just took a blow to the head, and Throthradir just stomped on the hand of the rookie dark elf Saithor. As a side note, it looks like the Archers are going to make it 3-0.”

“Don’t count the points until they are in the end zone Neesha!” Shouts the agitated Sidearm. “Nisrethg has the ball and is lofting a long bomb to the rookie Droris. Iondil will not catch her. Droris has scored to end the bloodbath and mudbath of a match.

It was a fine debut for the Archers but it looks like my contract will not be canceled due to ratings. Until next week, this is Rhys ‘Sidearm’ Gilroris signing off from Blackspine Stadium.”
Kondor



Joined: Apr 04, 2008

Post   Posted: Mar 30, 2017 - 13:03 Reply with quote Back to top

The sign on the window of the Tarnished Crown read “Under New Management.” Within the inn, Corbis was busy preparing for patrons. The stables were in good order but the nest in the basement was questionable. He just did not know skaven well enough to be certain that Ibaraki would approve. He was nervous. This was a crucial moment. If Coach Ibaraki decided to lodge his team at the Tarnished Crown, chances were that other coaches would follow suit. This place could be as profitable as a gold mine.

Corbis looked the nest over one more time and opened the entrance to the sewer a few meters from the door. A pair of red eyes gleamed from the darkness below and a voice hissed forth. “Excellent. Right on time. Punctuality is not a particularly common quality among my kind.”

From the tunnel below climbed a pitch black Skaven. The creature stood only about five feet in height and was clothed in very loose grey breeches. A black cloak and hood, faded and tattered from use rested on his shoulders. In his belt was tucked a thin blade just wide than a icepick. He nervously paced from side to side and almost involuntarily looked over his shoulder at random intervals. His eyes flicked from side to side as he surveyed the room corner to corner and from top to bottom. His right paw scratched at his thigh, then moved to his shoulder, then to his scalp before moving back to his thigh.

Corbis spoke up. “I hope you find the room to your liking Coach Ibaraki. Is the nest acceptable?”

“The nest is inconsequential. Tell me, is the room safe?” he asked. All the while he continued to scratch.

At that point Corbis saw an opportunity. Ibaraki was an addict and had no way of hiding it. He was going through withdrawals and had dug at his thigh until a patch of pelt had been replaced by an open wound. The paranoia would lessen if he could get a fix.

“Coach Ibaraki,” began Corbis. “I have worked hard to see that everything meets your approval. Notice that the large heavy door to this bedroom in the basement can be barred from the inside. The quality of the door is such that it would take an ogre a day to break through. Likewise, the entrance from the sewer can be bolted from up here and nothing would be able to come in that way.

I also took the liberty to prepare a small snack. Perhaps you would like some fresh fruit and warpstone before we tour the premises. Though my knowledge of skaven is limited, it is my understanding that your kind considers the stone a delicacy.”

Corbis opened the door to the hall and took a plate of apples from a table on the other side. Mixed amongst the apples were three pieces to stone that glowed green and were warm to the touch.

Ibaraki’s eyes widened and brightened when he saw the stones, but the mere presence of the stone helped him improve his composure. Then he looked at Corbis skeptically.

“I think you understand my kind much better than you will admit.” He responded then picked all three stones from the bowl. Two of the stones he tucked in his pocket. The third he popped in his mouth and tucked tightly in his cheek. Immediately he relaxed. Show me the remainder of the place.

Corbis lead the rat through the inn and the tavern until they reached the stables. Your team will rest here. The straw is fresh and will be comfortable. They will be well rested for the game. I understand that unlike most of their kind they are a jovial band of vegetarians. Like all patrons, they will have to pay for their meals but we will be prepared with plenty of alfalfa and bean sprouts. Apples and pears are also in season so they will be available.

Ibaraki nodded his approval. “How about security of the building?”

“The tavern will be closed to the public 24 hours before game day. Normally fans will not cause trouble before the match because they want to see the game. However, after the match anything could happen. I have employed three ogres as mob control. They will man the doors up until game time. You will not be allowed to return to the inn after the match as it will be too dangerous. Therefore, one of the ogres will have an unmarked wagon waiting outside of the arena. No one will know who is inside and he will escort it out of town. From there you are on your own.”

Ibaraki was impressed. “You have yourself a deal gnome. Two wagons carrying the team will be here within the hour. Make sure your ogres do their job. I will be in the nest. Alert me when they arrive.”

As Ibaraki retired to his room, Corbis breathed a sigh of relief. “I love it when a plan comes together.” He muttered. Now he needed to plan for the game.
Kondor



Joined: Apr 04, 2008

Post   Posted: Apr 03, 2017 - 10:40 Reply with quote Back to top

It was starting to look like the decision to purchase the Tarnished Crown would be a good investment for Corbis. Anticipating repeat customers, he installed a doorbell on the entrance to the sewer. A long rope by the entrance ran up through the floorboards, up two floors, and over to the front desk where a cowbell dangled over the clerk's head. A couple of days after Ibaraki's beastman team left town the cowbell rang unexpectedly.

Corbis hurried to the basement to see who had arrived. Below was an entire team of skaven and their coach. The skaven had come from a great distance and chittered away in the Tilean tongue. The coach had only a slight accent when he addressed Corbis.

“I was told that you can arrange a blood bowl match with the Archers of Avelon, and that you can keep us safe until the match.”

Corbis nodded and then settled them into the nests he had prepared. The difficult part was trying to figure out how to get the rat ogre out of the sewer and over to the stable. In the end they determined it would be better to build a nest for him in the sewer. The option was not a bad one since he added an extra level of security to the building.

With the team settled, he hurried to the stadium to arrange a match with the Archers. The two teams clashed three days later.

The game turned into an epic encounter with both sides scoring in the first half but no one able to inflict damage on their opponent. That changed in the second half when La Cofradia took the ball and looked destined to score and wrap up the match. But it was not to be. The ball came loose in the end zone and Throthradir killed the mercenary gutter runner hired for the match. The rat ogre made a pair of saving blitzes to give the skaven a chance. However, with numbers in their favor, the elves swarmed the ball and the ogre. Only the extremely fast gutter runner Brujo had a chance to win the match. He made a move and tried to slip past Kydeth to reach a ball surrounded by four Archers. It was too much to ask. He tripped and died to the approval of the home town crowd.

Kydeth would eventually pick up the ball and pass it to Throthradir who had slipped into the skaven backfield. She scored at the buzzer to give the Archers a thrilling win.

The gutter runner corpses were delivered to the local furrier. Their pelts would hang in the Archer club house for posterity.

After tipping his hat to Coach Arturidas for a well played match, Kondor returned to his office on the upper floor of Avelon Stadium. There he found a familiar Giant Ruby Finch waiting on the window sill with a scroll strapped to its chest.

Kondor signed the outer parchment, and reattached it to the bird which promptly flew into the sunset, and then he took his seat behind his desk and unrolled the scroll. After lighting the candelabra he started to read.

SUBJECT: Official Dossier - Revwë Larereta
FOR: Client – Name Confidential

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION: Race – High Elf, Complexion – Pale, Hair – Auburn, Eyes – Green, Height – 188 cm, Weight 71 Kilos, Age – 103 years

BACKGROUND: Born in the High Elf metropolis of Fathnore to the house of Larereta. Mother, Esta Larereta is a Master Archer and Weaver. Father Castien Balyra is a Master Archer and the Captain of the Fathnore City Guard Force. Revwë Larereta is the third of seven siblings.

STORY: Revwë’s childhood was unremarkable except for the fact that she grew up in a large family. Two children is the norm for elves but Esta and Castien strongly believe that small family size is the only reason for the decline of the elven race.

Revwë began training with the bow at the age of six. Every one of her siblings is a master archer, and she grew up in a competitive environment. She has placed no less than second place in any archery competition since she began competing at the age of 18. In her four second place finishes, first place was always taken by her father Castien. There is some debate about if she purposefully took second place in the last two contests out of respect to him.

At the age of 33 she was the youngest elf to join the Fathnore City Guard Force. During her 48 years on the guard force she accumulated 612 confirmed kills with her bow while on patrol. The numbers are so prolific that her squad came to be known as the Kill-Team as it was rumored that rather than patrolling, they were actively hunting for lesser races in the region. Most of the kills were random orcs, goblins, skaven, beastmen, and occasional trolls. Yet, a few human, dwarven, and even halfling bandits fell under her bow.

Her final patrol was under the blood moon 20 years ago. She and her eight member Kill-Team went out to investigate reported dark elf raids to the farms on the Northern outskirts of Fathnore. The investigation led to a small ravine where the Kill-Team walked into an ambush. When the team did not report back to Fathnore, Captain Castien led the search party that eventually found the ravine. Pierced with 6 dark elf quarrels, Revwe was unconscious from loss of blood but with sword in hand and an empty quiver. She would have received every medal available to the Fathnore City Guard Force as every arrow in her quiver save one was recovered from a dark elf corpse.
Unfortunately, the last arrow was found in the throat of her lover and commanding officer Hoccar Daethana. Adding intrigue, no one knows why Hoccar joined the patrol that night as Revwë was the leader of the team.

As soon as Revwë was strong enough to walk she left the infirmary and the city of Fathnore. The military inquiry into the case was quietly closed with the death ruled an accident in the fog of war. Considering her reputation and skill with the bow the outcome of the inquiry was not well received by the larger part of the City Guard Force.

On a whim, 18 years ago she joined the practice squad of the Nandorians. At her suggestion, a few of the other elves pooled their resources and together they started the Blood Bowl franchise the Archers of Avelon.

POINTS OF INTEREST: Revwë’s family has a representative at every Archer of Avelon game. Normally her mother is present but from time to time it is one of her siblings. Only her father has never attended a match. Guild speculation is that he knows the truth of what happened on her final patrol and it caused a rift between the two of them.

Additionally, someone has placed a bounty on her head. Blood Bowl assassins throughout the realms salivate at the opportunity to bring down the “Kill-Team-Killer.”

SCOUTING REPORT: This elf is the Team Captain and clear leader of the Archers of Avelon. Her athleticism is incredible. Despite the use of full Blood Bowl armor, she is faster than most wood elves. Thus far she has caused 18 casualties and killed two combatants on the field. There is no weakness in her game.

HOBBIES: Revwë is addicted to the thrill of the kill. Upon arrival at a new location for a match she immediately stops at the sheriff’s office to consider the outstanding bounties in the region. She only completes dead or alive contracts, and has never brought in anyone alive.

Recently she began volunteering at halfling orphanages where she teaches archery and tracking lessons in order to provide the children with life ensuring skills.

END DOSSIER.

Kondor let out a low, slow whistle as he closed up the scroll. This was one sick little she-elf. He was lucky that he had thus far walked away with only a few little tattoos to show for her anger.
Kondor



Joined: Apr 04, 2008

Post   Posted: Apr 05, 2017 - 12:59 Reply with quote Back to top

After a couple of successful home games, the Archers of Avelon took a road trip to Tombstone City. The hot desert air was uncomfortable and thin. Tumbleweeds blew in front of the stadium and not a single horse could be seen in the run down old town. The Archers attempted to check-in to the hotel above the saloon only to find it full of cobwebs and without so much as a barkeeper to attend them.

Kydeth looked at Kondor. “Why are we here? There is nothing here.”

“You are correct.” He responded. “The town is almost deserted. A Cholera epidemic came through here about 40 years ago and killed almost everyone in town. The only living you will find in town is the sheriff, the stage coach operator, and a couple of cactus farmers. Most of the current residents are up on old Boot Hill outside of town by the arena. That is where the blood bowl team you will play resides.”

“So it is an undead team.” Stated Idhrenfineth. “Why have a sheriff and a stage coach office in a ghost town?”

“Well bandits like grave robbers come through from time to time, and someone has to deliver mail to the dearly departed. Look on the bright side.” Said Kondor as he handed a bottle of amber liquid to Corbis. “The liquor counter is well stocked and we are the only ones here to drink it. Consider it a welcome present from the owner of the Boot Hill Restless Dead. Also, cholera is probably still in the water, and the game is tomorrow so drink the booze but don’t overdo it unless you want to switch teams during the match”

Most of the elves spread out to explore the saloon, drink, or sleep, but Kondor was not surprised to see that Revwe had already walked across the street to stage coach company where she examined the wanted posters nailed to the wall.

The next day at high noon the archers walked to the center of the field. The small arena was filled to capacity. It was eerily silent except for a pack of about thirty ghouls that chanted vulgarities on the other side of the Restless Dead end zone.

Some of the elves chatted amongst themselves but Revwe was conspicuous in her silence. She stood at the proper defensive spot on the field glaring at her opponents one by one. Kondor recognized the look of the prowling predator and did his best to keep himself out of her line of sight.

The whistle blew, Osonia kicked the ball high into the air and the pandemonium that is Blood Bowl began. Revwe screeched “Fill your hands you sons of b…s” and immediately attacked Wild Bill. Taken off guard, he was unprepared to deal with the ferocity of the attack. With broken bones, the normally heavy handed wight was dragged from the dust covered pitch.

Nienna scored twice in the half but it was inconsequential. Revwe was the force to be dealt with. Sundance tried to fend off the barbarian elf only have her crush his spine and send him to the bench to regenerate.

Headed for the lockerroom a reporter quoted her as muttering “Our bodies are earth and our thoughts are clay and we sleep and eat with death.”

As the second half ticked on the ghoul Doc Holiday cornered Osonia with a hand held crossbow at his side. “Well, if it ain’t little Osonia Larereta.” He chortled as his fingers tickled the hilt of the bow. “Care to dance?”

Knowing she was no match for Doc she backed away. “I’ve got not quarrel with you.” She tried to reason.

“But maybe I’ve got one with you.” He continued to tease.

The match virtually stopped as Revwe stepped between them smiling in a knowing way. “I’m your Huckleberry.” She taunted.

The color of ghoul’s complexion faded as he saw Revwe’s hand hovering inches from her own crossbow. “Well, yer a daisy if you do.” He began to mutter over and over as the pair began to circle one another in a clockwise direction.

After a few eternal seconds she spoke. “Skin that smoke wagon Doc.” She stated and then shouted “Go ahead, skin that Smoke Wagon and see what happens!”

In the blink of an eye Doc’s hand twitched and pulled the bow and the trigger. His quarrel planted harmlessly in the dirt. He took a step and dropped the bow. His left hand drifted towards his gurgling throat where his trachea was now perforated by a bolt from Revwe’s bow. Eyes rolling back in his head, he dropped to one knee and then to the desert earth where his blood muddied the parched and sun cracked pitch.

Revwe walked to the dead ghoul and tore a tarnished tin star from his tunic and put it in her pocket. The action stopped except in the background the referee at last sounded the final whistle.

Hours later, while the other elves were celebrating the victory, Revwe entered the sheriff’s office where she was surprised to find Kondor. She ignored him and tossed the tin star on the desk. The sheriff, an old balding man picked it up and tossed it in a drawer then pointed to a bag of gold on the chair by the door.

Kondor looked at Revwe curiously. She absently picked up the gold bag and moved toward the door. But before leaving she decided to answer his unasked question.

“If God hadn’t meant for them to be sheared, he wouldn’t have made them sheep.”
Rbthma



Joined: Jan 14, 2009

Post   Posted: Apr 05, 2017 - 16:33 Reply with quote Back to top

Guessing that's the "I Choose You" tattoo taken care of. Great reading Kondor, keep it up!
Kondor



Joined: Apr 04, 2008

Post   Posted: Apr 06, 2017 - 12:35 Reply with quote Back to top

In the stands near the press box a sullen figure sat watching the evening match between the Archers of Avelon and the orc team called Earth of Summer. He was alone as his seat was the worst one in the house and without a spy glass, most beings would be unable to see the details of what happened below. He wore a long black duster and a hat that shaded and obscured his pale features.

The orcs were clearly the hardest, strongest, toughest, and fiercest team the Archers had ever faced, and playing in their home stadium, they were dominant. The normally precise Nienna failed to throw the ball with any accuracy and Kydeth could not catch it when the pass was a good one. With a descent reception, the score would have been 1-0 in favor of the Archers going into the half. Instead the score was reversed.

Just before the whistle sounded ending the half, Jorin watched his planned paycheck crumbled to the turf below. A pair of Archers had tied up the young black orc Esperson. Those two alone would have been no match for the beast, but Idhrenfineth was a different matter. As an elf held each arm, she planted a gauntleted fist squarely to the bridge of his nose. The big fella went down with Idhrenfineth atop him still swinging, attempting to pound his eyes into the back of his helmet.

The referee and orc apothecary were so distracted by the blitzer affectionately called Iloveyou scoring that they did not even notice the black blood covering Idhrenfineth. The orcs scored but the Archer Captain Revwe congratulated the trio of elves for their efforts.

In disgust, Jorin went to the concession stand for a bite. At an orc game the pickings were slim. In the end he convinced a strong and healthy orc to follow him back to his seat. Jorin only took a nibble to kill his appetite. Orc blood stank and tasted of refuse, but it was good for an undead body. Leaving a blood drained body in the rafters would have divulged his presence so, after removing the memory, he sent the weakened thrall back to his seat with his chums.

Jorin watched the remainder of the match. The elves popped the ball out a couple of times and had some slim opportunities to make it a competitive game but in the end, Earth of Summer simply out played them.

On the Archer sideline, Kondor had also noticed the murder at midfield, but wisely kept it to himself. In the locker room he knew something was out of place. Sure, the Archers were annoyed at the loss but this time they did not seem angry. They did not make excuse. Then he saw it. Revwe handed the three elves involved in the murder a small bag of gold emblazoned with the letters AK-T. Then she turned to the rest of the team and shrugged.

“Perhaps you will get a share next time.” She said.

Something was afoot and Kondor needed to know what AK-T meant.

https://www.fumbbl.com/p/match?id=3891968
Kondor



Joined: Apr 04, 2008

Post   Posted: Apr 07, 2017 - 10:36 Reply with quote Back to top

Jorin walked into an unnamed inn near a plague infested swamp in the early hours of the morning. A thick fog seemed to rise from the bog and there was a good chance that the region would be overcast for several days. The tavern was all but empty with only one drunk passed out with his head down on the table. The tavern owner and his wife the barmaid were the only other people in the building.

The vampire shook his head. He had not had an enjoyable meal in days. The job was not turning out as he had imagined. Stalking high elves should not have left him drinking ghoul and orc blood for the last two weeks and now he sat in an empty tavern in a swamp. Discouraged he spoke to the owner of the inn who coughed and wheezed throughout the conversation. Clearly he was gripped by some illness.

“I’m feeling charitable.” He told the man. “Let me pick up the drunk’s bill and I will go put him in his bed for a good night’s rest.”

The gaunt sickly man wiped his running nose happy to take the coins. “That will be six gold and a copper.”

Jorin put the money on the bar and then moved to the drunk who was now snoring on the table. It would have been simple to carry the man to the back but a show of strength could arouse suspicion. Instead he helped the scruffy man to his feet and started to walk back to the rooms. He could smell sickness on the man’s breath. Tuberculosis was his best guess. Under any other circumstances this man would not be his choice for diner but times were tough.

As he opened the bedroom door he heard the chimes ring on the front door and the entrance of the Archers of Avelon. The bedroom he chose was adjacent to the tavern and the walls were thin so he could easily eaves drop on the conversation of the elven team. He deposited his prey on the bed and then pulled a chair close to the wall.

Peering through cracks in the bedroom wall he could see Archers as they sat on chairs and stools around the largest table in the room.

Meldalf Aedfaere was the first to speak. “It is a shame what happened to Longstride and Idrenfineth. I never expected star like Longstride to be killed by a Beast of Nurgle. Why would he get to close? Kitty is no pussy cat.”

“Better that than end up like Idhrenfineth.” Responded Aelrue. “I mean, what elf wants to end up as a rotter? To die on the pitch is one thing but to be recruited to Nurgle and slowly decay. That is just ghastly.”

Aelrue’s sister Adresin started thinking out loud. “What if the Archer Kill-Team were to finish the job? What if ATK were to put an arrow in her eye and give her some dignity?”

But Revwe laid down the law. “No. Those are the risks of blood bowl. None of you are to go near her unless there is a contract. At least for now, she is part of Kitty and the Girls. However, tonight let’s raise our glasses to Idhrenfineth Gaendas. With 26 confirmed casualties she has inflicted more pain on our opponents than any of us to date.”

The elves raised their glasses and Jorin turned his attention to the bar where Kondor and Corbis chatted. Both were in uncommonly good moods.

“Coach Kojo sure came through.” Said the gnome Corbis.

Kondor beamed. “Yep. And it is about time. It has been five games since anyone has laid much of a hand on these elves. Sure the Reapers killed an elf that day but a line elf does not compare to this. Kitty and the Girls did a magnificent job infecting Idhrenfineth. I will have to see if Coach Kojo fancies a rematch.”

Jorin listened to the conversations for a few more before boredom overcame him and he turned his attention to the drunk in his bunk. The blood would make him strong enough to go out and hunt that new rotter. It seemed that no one else knew that there was indeed a price on her head.

https://fumbbl.com/p/match?id=3892573
Kondor



Joined: Apr 04, 2008

Post   Posted: Apr 10, 2017 - 10:47 Reply with quote Back to top

https://www.fumbbl.com/p/match?id=3893145

These types of festivities were rare at the Shining Bauble. Sure, after a blood bowl match, the Archers of Avelon would normally retire to their favorite wine bar but they were almost always alone. In the case of a win, there would naturally be jubilation in the air, and after a loss there would be brooding. But in either case, you would normally not see any outsiders. But this was different. This was a game where the Archers of Avelon faced a team they considered to be equals. At least equals outside of the arena.

The High Born Berserkers were a high elf team that came to Avelon for a friendly match. Yes, the competition was fierce, and yes the results of the scoreboard would be reflected in the win/loss statistics of the teams, but even a loss did not feel like the end of the world. Now, with the match in the books, both teams cavorted and swapped stories while soothing their assortment of bruises from the match with copious amounts of alcohol.

Sigarn Emberwarrior was the clear star of the Berserkers and now he made a point of sitting near the Archer catcher Throthradir. In front of him, six empty glasses of grape spirits were turned upside down and he signaled the barmaid for another. He nursed three broken ribs provided by Throthradir in the final moments of the match. With the game all but over someone had knocked him down and the Archer catcher had rushed in to provide one final boot. The gratuitous violence had nearly caused a riot amongst the previously well behaved fans and players.

“I need to know Throthradir.” Stated Sigarn touching his bandaged side and wincing. “Why in the Old World did you kick me? The match was over.”

Throthradir shook his head. “We have orders from Revwe to try to kill someone at the end of every match. If we do, we will paste the Unnecessary Violence badge on Kondor and get one for ourselves. I did not hear Revwe give the order to stand down. Sorry Sigarn, at least it looks like the boot was a good one.”

Revwe came to the table and found a seat. In one hand was a glass. In the other hand she held a bag of ice to her eye. She patted Throthradir on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. An old vet like Sigarn should know to cover up until the whistle sounds. Besides, I sure got a good taste of Osagdiar’s boot in the first half. It was kind of funny actually. There I was on the ground and he called the ref over. I thought he was going to show the ref the knife in my boot. Instead he did a little river dance and stomped on my head. (rolled snake eyes to break armor.) The ogre ref we employ was so angered by the flagrant lack of respect to his authority he put him in a head lock and escorted him to the penalty box to rough him up a bit.”

Osagdiar lay on the sofa next to the table groaning. One bag of ice held to his head and another to his groin. “Yeah, that referee needs to find a sense of humor.” Grumbled the lineman. “The last time I took a beating like that was from band of zombies throwing a boot licking gang foul party on the line of scrimmage.”

“He does have a sense of humor.” Said Revwe. “You should send him a gift for not really hurting you. By the way, did you know a little while ago, that referee went to a witch elf post game party and was back in time to referee out next match? He has mumbled to himself ever since then. Every once in a while he gets this blank stare and snaps out of it with a blood curdling screech. It is very unbecoming in an ogre but we keep him on because he keeps the opposition in line when they decide to foul.”

Everyone listening to the conversation nodded approvingly.

The party continued into the night. Each round of drinks loosened tongues and soothed injuries. By morning the teams were trash talking and ready to play again. Had it not been for other commitments, the Archers may have had a chance at payback. Hopefully, that day will come soon.
Kondor



Joined: Apr 04, 2008

Post   Posted: Apr 10, 2017 - 12:45 Reply with quote Back to top

https://www.fumbbl.com/p/match?id=3893670

It is not the most inventive nickname in the world, but it is fitting. Careca is the hairless dark elf blitzer for the Gammora Thunder. The nickname was given by the Tillean Amazon crowd in his rookie match when a catcher knocked him into the stands. The amazon women went wild in the stadium when he fell into their hands and passed him around amongst them for most of the game. He managed to make it back to his bench with only minor bumps and scrapes but without most of his apparel or any of his pride. You see, the crowd learned that day that Sadoder Bravedran had contracted a skin condition which rendered him hairless. Hence the moniker Careca meaning Baldy in Tillean.

It does not take much to get under the skin of a Dark Elf, and Sadoder was particularly jaded by the handle he had been given. The name stuck and even at home games he is taunted by the merciless chant of “Baaaaldy…. Baaaaaldy….. Baaaaaldy.” Woe, woe, woe unto the opponent who thinks it is wise to provoke old Sadoder.

Aelrue Balrie underestimated Sadoder and began to mock early and often in the match. “You are so bald my ears are harrier than your head.” Later. “God was good to you! He gave you a delicate face and room for a second.” Then. “I guess you found the ultimate cure for dandruff.” Finally. “Was that ostrich at the zoo chasing you because she thought her egg was running away? ….. At least you will never get a hairline fracture…… Are you really bald, or is your neck just blowing a bubble?”

Sadoder could take no more and the depilated one struck from behind as any well trained dark elf will do. His stiletto puncturing 6, 8, 12 times in flashes. Aelrue was dead before her blond locks reached the ground. Sadoder grabed a hand full of her blood soaked mane, tore it off and tied it in his armband.

On the sideline, Aelrue’s twin brother/sister Adresin could only howl in anguish and hatred. With the damage done all she could do was shout threats and obscenities at Careca the remainder of the match. The Archers of Avelon buried another of their own that night, then they plotted their revenge. A bounty was placed on the bald head. 500 pieces of gold or warpstone will go to anyone who can bring me that foul elf’s ears.


Last edited by Kondor on Apr 12, 2017 - 11:03; edited 1 time in total
Kondor



Joined: Apr 04, 2008

Post   Posted: Apr 12, 2017 - 07:21 Reply with quote Back to top

Kondor sat in his office on the upper floor of Avelon Stadium planning and plotting his moves as the “coach” of the Archers of Avelon. The Archers were poised to complete the Elves Leaving the Forest cycle for the first time in their history. They even had a dark horse shot at the trophy. Kondor had lined up a match against a Khemri team called Foul Bandages scheduled for later in the afternoon. Once that game was in the books all that would be needed was a game against some flavor of dwarfs to wrap up the cycle. Happily, this also gave him an excuse to line up the Archers against some real bruisers. After losses to nurgle and orc squads, the Archers would need a rematch and a win to get into the hunt.

Yes, if all went well, there would be blood flowing soon.

Meanwhile, practice had just wrapped up and Kydeth was busy plotting further Archer of Avelon glory to come in the form of Fumbbl Badges. Somehow the team focus on recognition had been lost in the heat of the game. Upon reflection, most badges were out of reach for the time being but inroads had been made. Nienna already had 50 of the 100 completions she needed for the Passer badge. Also, one game against Amazons and the team would have completed their grid. There were a few badges within reach. It was time to remind the team about the glory to be had and the pain to be inflicted on their coach.

The game between The Archers of Avelon and Foul Bandages had the potential to be a brutal match. Coach Serenade of Sorrows brought a team to the field that not only sported a skilled dirty player, but two bullying blitzers with a track record of making a mess of elves. The team even dug deep into the coffers to produce a pair of star players. Hack Enslash brought his guitar shaped chainsaw and Ithaca Benoin was a skilled ball carrier.

Kondor also dug into the team coffers, but his efforts were to appease fans. In a tribute to Coach Serenade he called upon his own Blood Bowl Band of Bones called Arcane Fire to play for the crowd. The home team took the field as the band played their top song Wake up and both crowds started getting warmed up for the match.

A few moments later the Brutal Bandages took to the field to the song Black Wave Bad Vibrations. By now the elves in the stands were chanting lyrics and the skeletal fans were stomping to the beat. Into this concert type atmosphere was inserted a ball, and a referee. The music did not abate over the entire match with Arcane Fire mixing it up with cover songs like Hells Bells, Welcome to the Jungle, and Fear of the Dark in tribute to the visiting players.

In fact, once the chainsaw was removed from the field, the fans completely lost interest in the match and turned their attention to the band. Few even noticed when Ithaca scored the point to even the games. No one cared when the ref blew the final whistle ending what should have been a riveting game. They were busy listening to Arcane Fire’s version of Sympathy for the Devil. (The song was meant as a hint to Coach Serenade for his next recruitment drive.)

As the band continued to play, Kondor crossed the field and shook hands with Serenade Of Sorrows. Both coaches agreed that a couple of injuries here or a completed pass there, and the game would have gone in the favor of either team. With the pleasantries complete, both coaches found a bench and enjoyed the music.

Archers of Avelon vs Foul Bandages 1-1 Draw
Kondor



Joined: Apr 04, 2008

Post   Posted: Apr 14, 2017 - 08:29 Reply with quote Back to top

The mood in the locker room was grim but optimistic. Each Archer made a point of taking a few moments with each of their team mates before taking the field. Teams coached by the organized crime boss C98 had already killed three of the Archers. This very ogre team was responsible for two deaths.

Still, death is in important aspect of Blood Bowl. Without it, fewer fans would tune in, ratings would drop, and teams would go bankrupt. In the end there would be no glory for the Archers if there were no bloodlettings.

Each of the Archers of Avelon had made their peace with this aspect of the game some time ago. The point was abundantly clear before they ever signed a contract or put on a suit of Blood Bowl armor.

Before taking the field, Kydeth called the team together.

“Ok. You all know the game plan. Stay away from the bruisers as much as you can and hit every snot that comes near you. If you do find yourself on the ground be sure to cover up because a boot is coming your way. Everyone keep an eye on Smack. If he hits you, you will not be able to avoid it. He is easily the most dangerous of the blokes.”

The team entered the tunnel and Arcane Fire started playing the Archer of Avelon theme song. The match would soon be underway.

It did not take long for the Archers to feel the pain. The random mercenary line elf they hired had clearly not paid attention in practice. He hit the turf hard and the little snotling Buck stomped on his neck.

The hero of the match was clearly Ortalion who twice single handedly stripped the ball from the ogre Harm. The humiliation at the hands of Ortalion will not be forgotten by the ogre. After stripping the ball she force fed him a custard pie and while he was distracted threw the ball to safety.

Going into the second half elf spirts were high. Kydeth gave a signal and the elves started taunting ogres. Dodging away and then intentionally moving within range only to dodge away again causing the ogres to bellow in rage. On cue, Revwe dodged from the ogre marking her then danced and toyed with a snotling before knocking it to the ground and stepping into the endzone.

On the sideline, Corbis elbowed Kondor. “My guess is that the badging office is going to certify that as a Dodgy Play. You have to admit it was good display of agility. Where does this one go?”

Kondor pointed to his left shoulder blade and scowled. “They are elves. Of course they can dodge but that was just showboating.”

Still, there was reason to celebrate soon enough. Iondil lay on the pitch grasping her knee with a grinning ogre standing over her. Corbis picked up his bag and jogged to the field where he expertly stabilized the knee then helped the elf to her feat. As they walked to the sideline Corbis stumbled over a downed snotling, and fell taking his patient with him. Trying to protect her injured knee she fell awkwardly and twisted her back. The knee would eventually heal completely, but the injury to her back would niggle her for the remainder of her career.

Kondor grinned approvingly and then began to get excited. Smack had a clean, unabated shot on an elf was clearly distracted by the ball. Knowing exactly what to do he took the unsuspecting elf by the back of the neck, picked it up, and crushed it into the turf. The result was never in doubt but Kondor ran to the sideline to see who had just died. The grounds crew rushed out unceremoniously and dragged the corpse to the Archer sideline. Dejected, Kondor returned to the bench talking to himself.

“The journeyman. Just another stinking journeyman. I need to renegotiate the contract with c98 and pay less for journeymen.”

Before the match even came to an end, Kondor found Coach c98. “Let’s go to your office. We need to talk.”

“Sure thing Kondor.” Responded c98. “But be sure to bring your gold.”

https://www.fumbbl.com/p/match?id=3894272

Image
Kondor



Joined: Apr 04, 2008

Post   Posted: Apr 14, 2017 - 11:17 Reply with quote Back to top

Relaxing in front of his magic mirror, Kondor casually watched Nightbreed’s elves playing a team of Nurgle Corsairs. The game was just getting interesting when he was interrupted.

The mirror turned a golden hue and a voice came from the mirror. “Kondor!” it boomed.

Kondor almost fell out of his chair in shock.

“Your request for a match will be granted. My chosen team from Zhufbar will arrive in Avelon on the morrow. I expect a quality effort from the Archers.” Continued the voice.

At last Kondor found some measure of composure. “Yes Lord Sigmar! They will not disappoint.”

As quickly as it had begun, the direction was over and the game came back into focus on the mirror.

Kondor was still stupefied and now he bumbled around his office looking for the next course of action. Sure. He had sent a petition for a match to the high league months ago but he had not expected a response. He certainly did not expect a personal response from Lord Sigmar himself. At last he pulled himself together and shouted for his courier Archie.

“Archie, go get all of the Archers of Avelon and tell them to get to the Avelon Arena immediately. I don’t care how angry they are at being ordered around. Tell them not to delay.” Ordered the coach. “They can find me on the field in one hour.”

Fifty five minutes later, the entire team walked onto the field in unison ready to discipline their upstart coach.

Without waiting for them to speak he spoke. “You will face Lord Sigmar’s Zhufbar Bruisers tomorrow evening. You may want to get prepared.”

Every elf froze and blank stares came to their faces. Kondor had pulled off the impossible. They would be facing the honorable and stalwart dwarfs who were supposedly coached by Sigmar himself.

Still reeling, Nienna spoke up. “You will get a bonus from my part of gate on this one. I can’t believe this is going to happen.”

One by one the other elves spoke similar words and suddenly, Coach Kondor was looking at an amazing payday. Better still, if anyone could bring the haughty high elves to their knees it would be the mighty dwarfs of Sigmar.
The next twenty four hours ticked by agonizingly slowly. Corbis was overjoyed as the Bruisers chose to lodge at the Tarnished Crown even though a better price had been offered by the Shining Bauble. When the game finally arrived, the stands were filled to capacity, and commentators from throughout the Old World broadcast from the press boxes.

Once the match was underway all Kondor could do was spectate.

The Archers were in rare form. They dodged from dwarfs and assisted one another in knocking dwarfs to the ground while Nienna and Throthredir put on a passing clinic in the dwarf backfield to taunt the visiting Dwarfs. Most amazingly, the Zhufbar Bruisers could not manage a single KO through the first half. The elves went into the locker room with a 1-0 lead, and Nienna had 4 completions.

The second half began and the Archers were full of confidence stifling the Bruiser advance. Then out of nowhere, Nargrum the Black hit Revwe near the Archer bench. She went down hard and did not even twitch. Kondor leapt with joy, and Corbis leapt to the field. Corbis found neither a breath nor a heartbeat but as he could not be seen to do nothing, he began to pound on her chest one fist after another to the beat of his own heart.

Inexplicably, she coughed, groaned and rolled over. She would crawl to the sideline badly hurt but otherwise alright.

Kondor’s joy turned to furry. Corbis just starred at his fists in disbelief. “What had he just done they both wondered.”

Meanwhile on the field Kydeth dislodged the ball from the dwarf runner Halmand and Throthradir cleared the ball to Nienna. In the closing moments of the match she would once again pass it back to Throthradir who fled to run out the clock.

Kondor looked on in disbelief. An Archer win. No major injuries. Revwe snatched from the brink of death. Disaster. Archie handed him the stat line. It read Quarterback Badge to Nienna.

In the background Kondor heard the revelry and celebrations. He just wanted to be alone.

https://www.fumbbl.com/p/match?id=3894745

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