“Chapter 6


Well over a thousand pounds of hot, sweaty fur and muscle lumbered its way up to the line of scrimmage with a collection of grunts and growls.
“What the heck is that?” asked Heart of Glass.
“That,” replied Peace Frog, “is their offensive line.”
Heart of Glass gulped and took up his position safely back from the line.
One More Cup of Coffee stretched his legs and flexed his fingers.
“Remind me to have a little chat with Coach Robsson after the game. I would very much like to ask him why on earth he offered to play us against this bunch of maniacs.”
“And what makes you think you’ll survive the game?” said Beds are Burning. It sounded like a joke, but the were no smiles anywhere to be seen.
And then the whistle blew and all hell broke loose.

The Lion and the Unicorn, as the only player actually taller than the opposition, was on duty up front and he swung a quick hit against the opposing team’s ogre while the brute was still picking his nose. The arm was knocked upwards, the fat finger was forced further inside the bulbous nose and there was a somewhat unpleasant squishy sound from deep inside the ogre’s skull. It took a few seconds for him to realise, but eventually the beast keeled over and remained motionless.
“Yay!” shouted Coach Robsson from the sidelines. “That’s the spirit. Now, two more of those and we’ve got this game wrapped up.”
The Lion and the Unicorn shook some loose flakes of bark from his fist and lumbered onwards.

Meanwhile the wood elves had been doing what they did best and no sooner had So Much for the Afterglow picked up the ball, deep in his own half, than it was sailing across the line of scrimmage and One More Cup of Coffee was carrying it safely over the line into the opposition’s endzone.

The wood elves lined up more confidently second time around. Things were going nicely so far. But the chaos pact team were not called Warped Mayhem for nothing. They shrugged off a lost ogre and a quick touchdown as if they meant nothing and set about tearing the White Men to pieces as if it was nothing more than a training match for them. Wood elves lay scattered about the field and Coach Robsson noticed with annoyance that one or two of them seemed reluctant to leap back up and follow the action.

Suddenly the chaos minotaur let out a chilling growl and hurtled himself at Heart of Glass. The poor wood elf could find nowhere to run to, despite trying very, very hard, and a great hairy fist the size of a Halfling crashed down on his skull with a sickening snap. Heart of Glass crumpled and Coach Robsson screamed for an apothecary. Unfortunately the team’s regular medic, Doc Onholiday, was still busy patching up The Lion and the Unicorn, who had been carted off moments before with a broken branch, and only the wandering quack doctor Robsson had hired as a precaution before the game was available.
“You,” he shouted. “Go fix.”
The apothecary grabbed his bag of potions and rushed onto the field, took one look at the angry minotaur who was still standing drooling over his victim, and continued running across the field and out of the turnstile. Laughter erupted from the stands and Robsson cursed loudly until he began to go hoarse. Once the referee confirmed Heart of Glass was near enough dead, the minotaur took hold of the limp body and dragged it back to his dugout for later, as was his right according to Rule 1187*.

With no protection up front the wood elf defence crumbled and now more and more of them were taking longer and longer to get back up after a knock down. So Much for the Afterglow made one last attempt to run for a loose ball and throw it downfield for Beds are Burning, but when it appeared he was actually going to have to fight for the ball he seemed to stumble and fall, and the game was lost.


* * * * *


“Heart of Glass?” complained Coach Robsson as they sat morosely in the back of their travelling wagon. “more like Skull of Glass if you ask me. I knew that boy never had much to offer, right from the start. He was a boy, wasn’t he?”
The other players nodded.
“It’s just that after all those revelations the other day, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to tell… you know, for certain…” he gave a slight laugh. “Unless I spend a bit more time in the washing pool after the match perhaps.”
“To be honest, Coach,” said Beds are Burning, “you really could do with spending a bit more time in the washing pool after our matches.”
For a long, deathly silent moment Coach Robsson stared at the wardancer in surprise and not a single member of the team dared even to breath loudly. Finally, Robsson began to chuckle.
“Phew,” he said, wafting his shirt and sniffing his armpit. “You know, you’re not wrong. It was hot out there today, and I did run up and down the line a fair bit.”
The players relaxed. One or two even smiled.
“But I’ll tell you what,” Robsson continued. “That minotaur… he really knew how to smell. There’s one definite soap dodger if ever I saw one.”
Now the wood elves began to laugh.
“And as for that troll,” said One More Cup of Coffee, “I’m not sure he’d ever had a bath!”
“Although to be fair,” added So Much for the Afterglow, “he did look like he could have eaten one.”
The laughter grew. The wagon rumbled on. Heart of Glass was quickly forgotten.




*Rule 1187 states that any carnivorous player who kills an opponent during a match may keep his victim for later consumption unless the deceased player’s coach chooses to contest the action by forcibly recovering the body himself. This has been attempted on numerous occasions, but never, to date, successfully.
”