<center><b>Game 1 </b>- After extensive brawling on and off the field during the first half, Orcalot's first game was hotting up. He could feel the waagh in him, the crimson spilt and the smell of sweat in the air had gotten his own blood up. <b>"Waaaagh"</b> he screamed, as he charged the nearest high elf lineman. <b>"Aaaagh"</b> he shouted as he tripped over his own feet and fell flat on his face. Well, what would have been left of his face had he not nearly decapitated himself. His team shocked, they immediately called in an air taxi to take Orcalot to the nearest shaman village. There, the witchdoctors made their way by performimg healing rituals on the injured <i>(although the price was a discount for Orcalot. Hed done them a favor last summer involving a wood elf maiden and <b>ALOT</b> of sacrifical silverwear.) </i>Now fit and ready to brawl again, <i>(though missing a large portion of his neck and head)</i> Orcalot is back and looking for trouble.

<b>Game 5 </b>- The game was bloody fast, and he knew he was too bloody old for all this excitment. Two years away from retirment back in the trading district, and now here he was bloody running around with a bunch of blooody maniacs trying to get a squig skin past alot of people who wanted it off him in the most brutal manor possible. Bloody hell, he thought as he sped past four beastmen, being flanked by two of the Beeg family ogres. How did that bloody Orcalot convince him into this. He saw a beastmen quicken his pace and aim his run towards him. <b>"Trouble"</b>, he yellowed, <b>"Get Him" </B>pointing at the oncoming beastment. The lumbering ogre turned and intercepted the beastmen a few feet away from Dazla. Lifes not that bad he thought to himself safe now and able to watch the rest of his team clear up the opposition. Atleast im getting fitter, having to run for my life every weekend seems to have given me a little speed boost.

<B><u>Injuries</b></u>
<BR>
<b>BH</b> -

<B>SI </b>-

<b>RIP</b> -

<B><u>Injuries</b></u>
<BR>
<b>BH</b> - <a href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v652/Peetus/uzombie3b.gif" border="0" alt="Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting"></a>

<B>SI </b>-

<b>RIP</b> -

<B><u>Injuries</b></u>
<BR>
<b>BH</b> - <a href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v652/Peetus/hblitzer1b.gif" border="0" alt="Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting"></a>

<B>SI </b>- <a href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v652/Peetus/dlongbeard1b.gif" border="0" alt="Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting"></a><a href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v652/Peetus/dgrim1b.gif" border="0" alt="Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting"></a>

<b>RIP</b> -

<B><u>Injuries</b></u>
<BR>
<b>BH</b> -<a href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v652/Peetus/helineman2b.gif" border="0" alt="Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting"></a>

<B>SI </b>- <a href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v652/Peetus/oblackorc1b.gif" border="0" alt="Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting"></a>

<b>RIP</b> -

<B><u>Injuries</b></u>
<BR>
<b>BH</b> - <a href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v652/Peetus/dethrower1b.gif" border="0" alt="Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting"></a><a href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v652/Peetus/cbeastman1b.gif" border="0" alt="Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting"></a>

<B>SI </b>- <a href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v652/Peetus/troll1b.gif" border="0" alt="Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting"></a>
<BR>
<b>RIP</b> -


<BR><b>Game 1</b> - Trouble was amazed...All this carnage, and yet he couldn't get in trouble for any of it. He felt his heart pounding, <b>"Me Smash Elves, You No Live Long"</b> he taunted as he crashed into the elf line of scimmage where two of them collapsed under his bulk, ceasing to move. The whistle blew. In the momentary pause whilst the medics and apothecaries removed the casualties from the field, Trouble took a while to admire himself. He could feel his muscles bulging, his career just beginning. The wind blew softly against his face and body. From the mellowed silence that the stoppage brang, the crowd began to chant. <b>"TROUBLE. TROUBLE. TROUBLE" </b>they bellowed over one another. This would be a long summer he thought to himself, as the whistle blew again...

<B><u>Injuries</b></u>
<BR>
<b>BH</b> -

<B>SI </b>- <a href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v652/Peetus/cbeastman1b.gif" border="0" alt="Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting"></a>
<BR>

<b>RIP</b> -<a href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v652/Peetus/delineman1b.gif" border="0" alt="Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting"></a>