“Chapter 10

“So where in the nine realms of chaos is he?” barked Coach Robsson to his wardancer, Beds are Burning. The wardancer was gazing across towards the main gate with a look which was equal parts concern, frustration, annoyance and excitement, with possibly just a little hunger thrown in for good measure.
“Honestly, Boss, I don’t know. I gave him the message, and the gold, just like you said, and he promised to be here an hour before kick-off.”
Robsson groaned.
“You gave him the gold up front?”
The wardancer added a look of confusion to his already struggling face.
“But, Boss. I did just what you said.”
The wardancer struggled to recall the exact words his coach had used.
“You said… pay him to get a uniform before he sneezes with cold.”
He smiled with the triumph of remembering.
“And that’s exactly what I did. I gave him the gold and told him to get something appropriate. Of course, I didn’t actually wait around to see what he bought, but I’m sure he will have chosen something tasteful and practical. He has a good eye for these things, you know.”
“What I said was…” muttered Robsson through gritted teeth, “…it pays to get him in uniform before he sees the gold. Honestly, you never give a player the money before he signs the contract. Don’t you know anything?”
Coach and wardancer looked at each other in silence for several seconds.
“Never mind,” continued Robsson. “You don’t have to answer that one, I already know the answer. But just be aware that your stupidity and incompetence have not only lost the team a great deal of gold, but almost certainly lost them the services of Talebor Floatingleaf, the only available wardancer for hire this side of the Mountains of Monotony!”
“Someone call?”
Coach Robsson spun round and came face-to-face with a tall, lean wood elf, already kitted out for BloodBowl in bright new armour and already wearing the team colours of the White Men in Black Suits. The wood elf took one cursory look at the human and then glanced over at Beds are Burning.
“Beds! My main elf! Put it there!”
The two wardancers performed an overly complicated greeting involving all their limbs. It was stylish and balletic, but it went on far too long and soon became annoying.
“Enough!” snapped Robsson, and the two elves brought their dance to a perfectly-balanced end.
“Talebor Floatingleaf, I presume?”
The new wardancer took a small bow.
“But not for long. My blood elf, Beds here, he tells me we take on a new title when we take to the pitch.”
He made a strange movement, as if ripping off some part of his clothing.
“There! The old me is gone, man. Now I stand before you name-naked. Give me my moniker.”
Beds are Burning stepped in quickly.
“Hey, Talebor, slow burn for a mo’, guy. This Monica, she sounds fine, but we got a rule here. No catch till after the match. You gonna have to play some ball first, dude.”
“Play with what?”
Coach Robsson shook his head. One fool of a wardancer was bad enough, but two? Two was simply a disaster waiting to happen.
“Right,” he said, interrupting the circular conversation unravelling in front of him. “From now on you shall be known as…”
“No, wait. I’ve got it, Coach,” said Beds are Burning. “I’ve been thinking about it all night. I spent hours talking with the bards, trying to find just the right name, and I think I found a winner. Bullet with Butterfly Wings.”
“Oh wow, elf. That name really barks. Good work.”
“Clan!”
“Clan!”
And they ran off to take up their positions.
“Fine,” muttered Coach Robsson as they left. “Bullet with Butterfly Wings it is. It’s a damned sight better than the one I’d chosen anyway.” And he scribbled out the word ‘Layla’ from his note pad.


* * * * *


The whole team were in fits of uncontrollable laughter as Bullet with Butterfly Wings hopped comically across the changing room before falling flat on his face.
“Look at me,” he squeaked. “I’m a slann. Argh!”
“Hey look,” added Beds are Burning. “He frog-ot how to slann-d up!”
Coach Robsson could not help laughing along with his players. What had looked like being a disaster of a game had turned out pretty well in the end. Another draw, a fair bit of gold and not a single scratch on the entire team. But better still was their new wardancer. He could have taken the money and never turned up, but he didn’t. He could have sat back and taken it slow to begin with, but he didn’t. Two touchdowns and the MVP in his first match. That was pretty good going for someone who clearly appeared to be several sticks short of a bundle. Perhaps it was a one-off, or perhaps he just had BloodBowl flowing through his veins. Time would tell.

“Uh, coach?” asked Beds are Burning. The wardancer had followed him out of the dressing room and was now looking at the coach expectantly. He’d been paid already. Robsson could not think what the elf was waiting for.
“It’s just that, well, I know Bullet played really well and all, but I’ve done pretty well myself in the past.”
“Yes.”
“And, well, it’s not good to have favourites and stuff like that.”
“Go on.”
“Well, I was just wondering if, maybe, I could have a Monica as well?”
“Monica?” The coach thought for a moment and then smiled. “No, not Monica, but play your cards right, and I’m sure you’ll get to enjoy Gloria Skarier.”
And he wandered of, leaving the wardancer as confused as ever.
”