“A hard-fought game. The ballpassers were less than thrilled when the coach announced their coming opponents. They thought the coach had become suicidal and threatened to cook him and feed him to the rats.
However partly because of some still persuasion and partly because the team's beef felt his old wound coming up and couldn't chop the coach to pieces they took the field.

The opposing field looked more like an army than like a Blood Bowl team and even if the Imperial scum doesn't believe the ratmen exist they do. And they have plenty of sharp pointy things with them.

The Qvickfåters quickly decided to play ball. They couldn't kick the rat's arses anyway so they might as well do what they were best at. While the rats did the same. In a hard fougth defensive play where most of the Ballpassers sat around the middle of the field chatting about the weather. Ariel Lindura chucked the ball up to the midfielders who catched it and proceeded to score.

The second half was a bit harder since most of the line fodder had gone out of action and were trying to fit into the injury box. (A yell of "That's MY leg not yours dumbass" could be heard and amidst the confusion someone was obviously revived.) The Ballpassers still tried playing their way though and felt that offense was the best defense. As long as they didn't touch the sharp pointy things that is...

They didn't make it though. The training was not enough and when those special plays needed special luck the gods just said "No. you can't be lucky all the time. Be grateful for what you have OK?"
And the elves bowed and accepted while the score tied to 1-1 and a quick snap managed a 2-1 lead for the Ballpassers.

Things worked out as expected and in the end the elves were just too tired and just wanted to sit in the dugout rather than play. So the game came to a draw.

They will feast on the dea... uhrm... I mean... they will hold a quiet ceremony for the dead in the evening.”