“After practice, Revwe called a meeting of the Archer Kill Team to discuss the upcoming “game.”

“As you know, Kondor has booked a match against the Cult of Shadow.” Revwe began. “This is no coincidence. To most of the Old World, the Cult of Shadow is a legendary yet moderately successful team with a healthy fan following. However, I am here to tell you that the rumors are true. The Cult of Shadow is an assassin guild with the audacity to declare their existence to the world through a Blood Bowl Team. This means that tonight’s match will be particularly treacherous. They will play to win tonight in order to keep their cover, but be warned, if you give them an opportunity they will kill you.

Luckily for us, every one of them has a bounty on their head. For example, the Killer of Queensbury will be on the field, as will the Stalker of Lamont. Through my source, I have established a value for each head, and a mechanism for payment through back channels. This is a chance for the Kill-Team to make a very public statement as bounty hunters.”

Nienna spoke up. “It is a chaos team. Are they beastmen?”

Revwe shook her head in response. “No. You will know their rank based on the furs they wear, but they are mostly men. The ‘Minotaur’ is an ogre draped in a mino pelt with a horned helm, and the ‘beastmen’ are neophyte assassins in skins and horned helmets.”

A few hours later, both teams took the field with murder on their minds. The Archers were very aware of the dangers they faced and did a fair job avoiding the Cult’s slashing blades and punishing gauntlets. Yet, their caution opened too many opportunities on the field. As a result, the Archers could manage no better than a draw resulting in understandable jeering from the crowd.

Still, not all was lost. The assassins did not realize the dangers they faced. More than once they dropped their guard while playing the ball, and the Kill-Team did not hesitate. Revwe lead the way. As the assassin called Grizzly Bear screened the ball carrier, she saw an opening and smoothly slid a stiletto blade between his ribs. Expertly placed, the assassin knew exactly what had happened. As he slumped to the ground he nodded to his foe in acknowledgment of a job well done.

Yet it was Throthradir that would collect the largest purse of the day. The lightly armored catcher looked like an easy target for the frenzied “Minotaur” named Rottweiler. As the ogre lowered his head to utilize his makeshift horns, Throthradir expertly side stepped the blow and buried a blade in the fellow’s midsection. This kill was not clean. The ogre writhed in agony knocking the medic unconscious that had been sent to tend his wounds.

When the final horn sounded to end the game both teams left the field unsatisfied with the result. However, while the Cult of Shadows was now shorthanded, The Archers of Avelon were a bit richer. At least the entire Old World had seen the match. With any luck, the result would bring further contracts to the Archer’s doorstep.
”