“Despite Johanna still recovering from the last match, the Vienna Vanguard ran onto the pitch with high hopes. Dwarves are a hardy little folk, but that shouldn't stop a well-coached human team from grabbing the ball, outrunning and scoring. Right?

The dwarves hit hard, but so did the humans, only not to much avail. Either their armor was extra greasy today, or their arms were weak. The scrum devolved into an endless stalemate, with neither side gaining the upper hand or, nuffle-forbid, moving the ball into the other team's half of the pitch.

When Karl made a run for it through the dwarves, a single pesky dwarf runner was enough to halt the advance. And when in the second half that same dwarf tried to slide by the sideline and score, four of our men immediately put a stop to it. Both coaches scratched their heads and went on with it.

Without a touchdown, and without any serious injuries, the Vienna Vanguard swore that next time they faced the Lamenters, there'd be blood.”