“On a cool May, Friday eve, the Tacit Urns made their way to the the Warfield Stadium Fortress, known as 'The Fortress'. As the players lined up, one could tell something special was about to be witnessed. Play started and there was the inevitable usual bags at dawn, until the game settled. Half way through the first half an opening came. It was the Warriors that took advantage as Sanctuary Man grabbed the ball, juggled, stumbled and then found his footing to speed away. 'Look' he cried, 'look into my mouth'- with a spoonful of miracles, he's the guaranteed eternal sanctuary man!!! 1-0.
Second half and it's getting rough out there. Tom Good, the most kind hearted, fragile man to walk the Bloodbowl turf gets thrown to the ground- crunch- there goes his hand. Pushing, shoveing- another opening- this time it's Greystoke whose on the run. Nobody can touch him. Run Greystoke, Run. And he does. All the way to the touchline, touchdown- cashback! Back of the net. 2-0
The acid turds, sorry, Tacit Urns, do not like this. Their bitter. Look at them raging. Raaa. Another crunching tackle. 'How dare you score Greystoke, here's a smashed ankle for your troubles'. Cruel. Shocking. Inevitable.
Final whistle. Finally Coach Mead gets back into winning mode. A good game. A good Friday...for the Warriors.”