“The stands were full, and the teams were ready to take to the field. Smells of local cuisine rose to the staff's lips, the fresh blood of the orc food appealing to their sinuses. Cheerleaders performed on the pitch, and fans brawled in the stands. Four thousand of the stromfels' ultras were massed at one end of the stands, and rose in song.

"We're the stromfels, we're the sharks,
We're the terrors in the dark,
Swimming, stomping, running, chomping,
Run while you still can..."

Scogma smoothed down his robes and settled in to watch the match, as the two squads charged onto the pitch. Hulking orcs clad in armour rumbled on and stood in line, grunting and picking their noses. The big 'uns stood tall over the others whilst the blitzers eyed up targets, itching for the match to start. All were dwarved like halflings though, when the sharkmen lined up. Towering hunks of rippling, unnatural muscle with mouths reminisint of dropping a collection of kitchen knives into a blender. The pirates flanked them, comparing the orcs to their own sharks in hope of survival.

The match finally kicked off, with the orcs recieving the ball and caging up, largely avoiding the line of scrimmage muscle put forth. The sharkmen charged forwards to retaliate, engaging the big uns in a one sided scrum. Coach treetree directed his players around the scrum, largely consigning the remainers to their fate. The brutes started to make their mark with a lineorc and blocker removed in quick succession. The high priest noticed a particular visciousness in the actions of Graro, and noted to watch him closely. Despite the excitement of the blood, the orc ball was largely unchallenged until the referee called a touchdown when the carrier stumbled into the endzone.

With in stromfel hands, the offense started well. The ball was duly secured and placed in a cage whilst the Sharks smahed the los up. Once again, a scrum duly formed after Orc to me made contact with the ball and were pushed away. Thinking the orcs too engaged to react, a pirate legged it away and tailed only by an overly intelligent blitzer and a lineorc following. However, a shark coming in, a deft dodge and the pirate danced over the line...

Only to trip on a clod of earth and fall down. Despite protest, the touchdown was disallowed and the half began with the score a 1-0 to Orc to Me. Disgruntled, the sharkmen reordered themselves for a second attempt. Another huge scrum and the orcs started to leave the field in the face of the onlsaught. Eyes rolling upwards in a green face became a common sight, before the crunch of neck heralded the death of Dubok Mummystone at the hands of Graro. The sight of blood enfused the pirates to attempt another power play, only to be swamped again by orcs. The now tired humans went for a well drilled move with the ball carrier pushing away the marking orc...

Only to awkwardly flail at thin air and be expertly put down by the orc! With so little time remaining, all hope was lost. Bloodfin;s Grief's debut was chalked down as an unfortunate loss... but match tea next week was sorted.”