It is a dreary day as Olorian Eldamril walks up to the pitch. As a veteran of 79 matches and team captain of the legendary Gladius Argentum, Olorian is considered by many to be one of the greatest players to ever play in the EBBL. For some reason though, to Olorian, something is different today. The clouds blow ominously across the pitch and it almost seems that a faint laughter can be heard in the gusts of the winds. Olorian knows where he is and who he plays for. Gladius Argentum is the most decorated team in EBBL history. With 5 league championships and 4 cup victories, they are the standing image of nobility, grace, and excellence on the EBBL pitch. A team record of 125-11-14 exclaims there continued dominance over their league rivals and they have proven they have the strength, endurance, and agility to outplay all races and coaches that have come before them....but today....something seems different.

Olorian looks to the sky as the occasional rain drop begins to patter off his armour. The landscape has changed in the league, and Olorian knows it. A new team Rottie Whilers, with a new coach, has been growing in strength and power, building a reputation as they smash their way through Olorian's rivals with a brutal efficiency that has him alarmed. Olorian is not afraid, for Olorian does not fear any living being in the realm, but are these foes truly "living?" Olorian looks across the pitch and sees his opponents approach. There, shambling in the rear of the team he see's him. Netz Nobblescrew. All the elves heard the story of how, The Prague Impalers, Gladius Argentum's previous biggest rival and the second most decorated team in EBBL history, were devestated during the regular season. The elves all heard how Netz, the most reviled and hated of Orcs, was held down and viciously stomped to death during a league match that resulted in the breaking of the Orcs playoff aspirations, and status as a preeminent title contender. The elves also heard, in horror, how the legend Orc's body was reanimated with the blessing of decay and disease and rose again to continue his rampage across the EBBL. Olorian hated that orc, but he respected him, and knows that Netz's fate is to low for a player of his stature to suffer. Netz doesn't have the same passion but when Netz and Olorian's eyes meet, Olorian swears he sees a flash of recognition in the shambling creatures eyes. In that moment, almost as a quiet sigh on the wind, Olorian hears the words "brother....we have come for you..." At that moment, Olorian reflexively reaches for the small of his back as that old injury starts to throb again, an injury that simply never goes away.

Olorian tears his gaze away from the Nurgle horde gathering on the other side of the pitch and looks to his team mates. They stand with the nobility of Elves born of Ulthuan. They stand proud and their eyes shine with an intensity Olorian has not seen. They know there is something different this day, with a foresight known only to elves, they know. This will be a day that changes the EBBL, a day that the elves will never forget. On the outside of the team, Riodan Celedor stands. The old veteran, former team captain, and grizzled warrior of so many matches holds his collarbone and grimaces. His face is a mess of scars and his body simply cannot support the continued stress of the pitch. This will be Riodan's final match. His old friend and coach, CraftnBurn has agreed to leave him on for one last chance at a title. Next to Riodan stands Cuthalion and Camalkar, both great players on their way to legendary status. They look like carven statues, some kind of pagan gods stoically standing side by side, facing an opponent that is hungry to take what the elves have.

The laughter is still in the wind, and the roar of the crowd builds.....Olorian takes his first step on the pitch and heads to midfield for the coin toss. He see's Typhumbble and Influenzanity approaching from the other side. One is flexing his multiple arms, the other is scraping his claws together and giggling. Olorian sees the tells of madness in the warrior of nurgle but knows he must not waver. His teammates are looking to him for strength and he will not fall. Olorian thinks he hears the purr of a chainsaw from the other sideline but continues his approach....no matter what happens this day, when it is over, there will be a champion crowned. Olorian must focus if he is to be champion.....

to be continued.....