“Chapter 7

The kick was long and accurate. Silas the Unclean positioned himself directly underneath it and caught it like a pro. The whole team moved forward, pressing ahead down the right flank with a useful enough, if somewhat messy and over-large cage to protect the ball-carrier, and already it looked as if the wood elves of Los Fruitis SA were on the back foot.

A fair number of the wood elf players appeared to be freebooters. Having been in the same situation many times during his long years as a wood elf coach, Robsson knew the signs - that fresh, eager look on a face free of scars, the undamaged armour over a somewhat ill-fitting team tunic, the slight hesitation before attempting to do anything because they couldn't quite remember the team's playbook yet. Robsson smiled. All the signs pointed to a comfortable win for Da Hui.

And then suddenly it all started to go wrong. A wardancer appeared out of nowhere, then another popped up right behind the first and the cage disintegrated. As the team's primary blitzer, it was Kornelius's job to deal with threats like this. He stepped forward, took a swing, and promptly had his legs cut away from beneath him, falling face first into the dirt. There was a sudden flurry of activity around him, and when Robsson next saw him, Kornelius was face-up in the dugout.
"No problem," he told the coach. "Just a little winded."
"What? You don't breathe."
"Metaphorically."
"Gah!" Coach Robsson had more to say, but he had other problems right now. Los Fruitis had the ball. How did that happen? And why were so many of his players lying down? These were wood elves. Yes, they were fast, and agile, and slippery, but they weren't supposed to be punchy as well. And certainly not if they were just freebooters.
Berengariax was doing what she could to prevent the score. She charged after the wardancer who had the ball and brought him down, but wasn't able to control the bouncing ball. Silas rushed in, but it was too little too late. The wardancer leapt up, cleared some space around the ball and the second wardancer ran in, collected the ball and easily threw a quick pass to the catcher waiting further downfield who ran it in.

Everyone was a little subdued during the halftime break. It wasn't that they were playing badly - actually, Robsson thought their performance had been pretty good, all things considered - it was just that the wood elves were playing even better. And with Los Fruitis about to receive, he couldn't see any way of preventing it becoming 0-2. He had to say something though, otherwise it wouldn't be a pep-talk.
"Kornelius, you've had your rest, so I don't want to see you in the dug out again until the end of the match. Sanjfrntyg, Number Eight, your hitting was a bit on the weak side. See if you can dial it up a notch for the second half. You know what wood elves are like. If you can actually land a blow, it ought to be decisive. Berengariax - " The werewolf growled menacingly and Robsson effortless changed what he had been about to say. "Great work, especially on that attempt to stop the touchdown. If you'd had a bit more support I'm sure we wouldn't be a score down right now. Celandril, you were a bit quiet out there. Maybe take a leaf out of Berengariax's book and get in there a bit more. Flex those leg muscles. Pop out those claws. Come on people, if we can't win this thing, we can at least make the woodies work a bit harder for it.

Celandril was looking angry. Robsson knew the elf didn't like being put down in front of the rest of the team but he was hoping he would take out his frustrations on the opposition, rather than saving it up for the coaching staff once the match was over. Luckily, he didn't have long to wait. As soon as the wood elves surged forward, Celandril leapt into the centre of the action, snapping the neck of one of the freebooters with a sickening crack that had the crowd gasping and cheering in equal measure.
Robsson looked questioningly at Ebeneezer. The necromancer gave him a quick nod and hurried off to where the poor elf's body had been abandoned at the side of the pitch, his spell book clutched firmly in both hands.

Now it was the elves who were struggling. One after another they were being carted off the pitch. Mostly they were just knockouts, but Celandril's blood were clearly up and he tore into another one of the linemen in a frenzy of teeth and claws which left little more than a pile of mush and a couple of shoulder pads and a big red stain on the grass. The ball bounced out of play and was hurled back in by an over-enthusiastic fan so far that it bounced all the way back to the wood elf endzone. Gazpacho, their star wardancer easily made it back to cover the loose ball, but taking a quick glance downfield, he was shocked to see that only two other wood elves remained on the pitch, and neither of them was on their feet. Still, he looked like he was prepared to pick up the ball and run it the entire length of the pitch on his own if that's what it was going to take. But then Celandril - still in the depths of his blood frenzy - barged him right out the back of the endzone, leaving an undefended ball. All he had to do was pick it up and the score would be his. On the second attempt, he succeeded.

The wood elves were not giving up. They still had half a team, and half a team duly set up to receive the kick. But there was nothing they could do. Too few players, too little time. And the fact that they came close enough to a second score to have Coach Robsson screaming obscenities and jumping up and down in a mad panic was a testament to their sheer grit and determination. But in the end it was the teeth and claws that settled the result.


* * *


Robsson and Ebeneezer sat on the front seat of the team cart as it trundled its way slowly along the dirt track, pulled by a team of skeletal oxen that had most definitely seen better days. The players walked, limped or shambled behind, still celebrating a draw which felt like a win - all except Kornelius Kane, who rode alongside on his magnificent white warhorse and the two ghouls, who were scuttling about in the scrub catching rats for their dinner.
"So," Robsson asked. "Where to next?"
Ebeneezer smiled. "Up the road a ways."
Robsson turned to the necromancer - and official team owner - and glared at him. "You know I don't like surprises.If you've booked us in against a tooled-up team of dwarves, I want to know about it. I need to plan my strategy. And find a couple of reserve players," he added to himself.
"No dwarves," was all Ebeneezer would say. And each time Robsson tried to prise more information out of him, the replies were always the same. "No ogres. No Nurgles. No orcs. No, not even any halflings." Eventually Robsson got bored and sat in a sulky silence until he fell asleep.

He woke with a start as the wagon came to a stop and looking around he saw that they had arrived at the venue for their next match. It was flat enough, the grass was still there in most places, there were dugouts on either side and even a dubious-looking wooden structure which might have been a stand for supporters. But the place was deserted, and looked like it had been deserted for several months, if not years.
"Where are we?" he asked.
"It's a little place called North Shore," Ebeneezer told him. "There's a town - well, large village - just over the hills there, and as you can see, they have their very own Bloodbowl pitch."
"It looks like it hasn't been used in a while."
"No, not since the Waikiki Welterweights - a halfling team who vowed never to have a treeman on their roster - were wiped in a single match by The Gouged Eye. The villagers didn't have the heart to rebuild from scratch so they just abandoned the place."
"Alright, so who are we here to play? Surely the Gouged Eye aren't still here?"
"No."
"Did the halflings all come back as a team of zombies?"
"No."
"Then what are we doing here?"
"This," Ebeneezer said, standing up and spreading his arms wide, "is our new home."
Robsson was speechless. Then he found something to say. "How did you manage it?"
Ebeneezer shrugged. "It was going cheap. All I had to do was sign a contract to say that the more adventurous members of our team - " he looked down at Berengariax, " - would leave the villagers alone and hunt a little further afield, and promise to spruce the place up a bit, and it was a done deal."
Coach Robsson stepped down from the wagon and pressed his face into the dirt of his new home.
"And," Ebeneezer continued. "In case you're wondering, the sea is just on the other side of those trees. If you shut your eyes and listen carefully, you can even hear the waves."
Robsson did shut his eyes, and he did listen carefully, and he did hear the sound of the waves, and just for an instant, he imagined it was the roar of the crowd.”