“With Avelon Stadium having been cursed, the Archers were forced into a long and painful road-trip culminating in catastrophe. In the Under-Empire, the high elves took the pitch against Coach Soul Thief’s ratmen known as the Skavenblight Heroes.

There was nothing heroic in the Archer performance. Again and again the rats charged and blitzed stealing the ball and making the Archers look like amateurs.

Still they fought on. In a heroic effort, Nienna reached the ball and tried to make a move down the sideline. It was not to be. The reaper had come to Skavenblight and this time he would not be denied. Having thinned the elf ranks, the rats surrounded her and gave her a final push into the hands of their ravenous fans.

Suddenly, the ball was unimportant as the legendary thrower fought for her life. A slave grabbed her by the hair only to have her reflexively crush his snout. A towering six foot black rat punched her in the ear only to have her respond by kicking him in the knee that supported most of his weight and he dropped like a sack of wet manure. But it was the skilled assassin’s blade that she could not avoid while distracted by so many other threats. It slipped cleanly into her unarmored side, through her liver and into her spleen. The kill was anything but clean yet it was effective.

Nienna turned quickly hoping to catch the attacker but he faded back into the crowd. The rest of the crowd had been cowed by her savagery and placated at the sight of blood from the fatal wound. She fought free and reached the Archer dugout.

Corbis assessed the wound, looked at Nienna and shook his head gravely. She nodded acknowledging the situation then asked if he could help her watch the remainder of the game. He did what he could by packing the wound as tightly as possible and restricting blood flow to the lower part of her body. Thankfully, the game ended quickly.

With the loss, the Archers went to 1-1-7 for their road stretch marking their worst record in team history.

When the team slogged back to the sideline, they stood around their team mate with little to say.

She was weak but she addressed Kydeth, Revwe, and Throthradir. “Help me to the pitch. I am not going to bleed out here in the dugout.”

Leaning on Kydeth and Revwe for support she walked several meters onto the field before wavering and slowly lowering herself into a seated position. She smiled at Revwe. “Now I know what all those marks felt like.”

She shook her head no. “You are a professional. Your marks never felt anything.”

Nienna looked at Meldalf. The two of them had an on again off again fling since he joined the team. Now he was on one knee in front of her stoic. She reached out and took is hand giving him a tender squeeze. Then she reached to the belt tightly cinched to restrict blood flow. She loosened it and started to sing. No one had ever heard her sing before, and a surprisingly perfect pitch sang the chorus of an Ancient Elven celebratory tune as Nienna looked heavenward. When the final words cleared her lips her features were pale. A moment later she was gone.

Throthradir produced a elven ceremonial cloak woven with bloodbowl symbols. In the coming hours, it would accompany her to the funeral pyre.

When company carried their comrade from the field, Throthradir hung back to chat with Kondor. “This is my last match.” He said. “Tell the others I’ve returned to my family. I will spend the remainder of my days with them and enjoy the riches I have acquired. I have no desire to die on the pitch.”

Kondor was slightly surprised considering the fact that Throthradir was a legend in his own right, but he nodded at the catcher with approval. “I bare you no ill will Throthradir. Go and be well. I will tell the others.”

Later that night, when the funeral pyre was only embers Kondor allowed himself to realize the situation. His grudge against the Archers was gone. Nienna was dead, Throthradir retired, Revwe was at his command, and Kydeth had often been an ally. For the first time since joining the team he would largely be in command of the team.

A chapter in Archer history was about to unfold.
”