“It began as another friendly with the Major League team. A great day for a game, uncharacteristic for the elves. A little earlier Ironface had had to release Amroth. He just hadn't recovered from his smashed kneecap, and with the new, bigger team, they didn’t have a place for him anymore. Still, he took it well, even offering to polish the famous iron mask that he wore.

The crowd was happy as ever to see the elves. He even noticed some of the humans had a likeness of him made up, which they were waving. When the elves kicked off, they showed the humans what real speed was, breaking through their lines with dexterity and ease. Another win for the elves.

It was about the time Ironface was thinking it was starting to get all too easy, and that the manikin the supporters had looked a little like they were burning his effigy, and that the soft-looking lineman’s gloves glinted almost like they were bronzed gauntlets, that things really went badly.

Within the next two minutes Ironface was dead. Somehow his mask had been replaced with a papier-mâché replica. The doc worked wonders, and yet by the second half a full third of the team was in intensive care. As they say, wood elves are only ever one bad game from disaster. How the mighty have fallen.
”