I'll totally name new members of the Cricket Club after everyone's favorite cricketeers. Keep 'em coming! --- Crunch! The members of the Cedarwood Cricket Club suddenly turned their faces towards the corner, where a pile of ripped apart linen, spilling wool and splintered wood, formerly a training dummy, slumped to the floor. Garefiel hummed and proceeded to broom up the remains. Shaking off a cold shiver, they resumed their work. Dun threw open the doors of the official meeting hall of the Cedarwood Cricket Club, or in more mundane terms, the barn. "All right, lads, meeting-" His eyes grew wide. "What are you doing?" Alawen went beet red and hid something behind his back. "We thought we could make this place a little..." "You know... more like back home." Dun stared at the bales of hay, covered all over with the most colorful arrangement of flowers. "How did you get these?" "We're wood elves!" protested Alawen. "Sure we are, but nothing grows around here for us to find! It's not like we shi- excrete flowers!" Dun narrowed his eyes. "Is that why there's almost nothing left in the treasury?!" The silence told the truth better than words. "So you, a bunch of wood elves, went into town and bought flowers from humans? Are you trying to embarrass the entirety of our people?" "We wore disguises!" protested Rhee Kipontinn. "Magnificent. What kind of disguises?" Rhee proudly held aloft a patch made of tied-together black hair and held it above his upper lip. "Oh, for crying out loud." "Well, have you ever seen an elf with facial hair, let alone a moustache as unkempt as this one? Clearly wearing this I would be utterly indistinguishable from your average human." "Rhee, get over here." Rhee eyed Dun warily, but slowly stepped closer until he was within arm's reach, trying to find something to read in his captain's completely blank expression. "What-" Dun grabbed him by the ears and pulled. "Ow!" "Anyway..." Dun sighed. "I suppose it's about right for us. They are very pretty. And we're going to have to start earning money anyway." He held aloft a sheet of paper. "I have with me here the schedule for our first season here in Ostland. We don't really have time to talk about all of it, but we do have to talk about our first opponent. It's a team that calls itself Fendship is Magic." "Are they orcs?" asked Giac, shivering. "...Undead?" "Cultists of Khorne?" "Nurgle?!" "Khemri?!" "D-d-dwarves?" A collective gasp went through the Club. One of the lineselves fainted. "Says here they're a team of Amazons. A warlike culture of Human women." Silence again. One by one, the eyes of the Cricket Club wandered over to Wilien Gilbereth and Garefiel, who as usual paid little attention to the meeting. Wilien Gilbereth was hoisting dumbbells, whistling, while Garefiel hummed a little song while she sowed the obliterated training dummy back together. One of the lineselves raised his hand. "Yes, Rahul?" "I don't suppose we could play against some dwarves instead...?" --- Not much for me to do in this match but hang on and not get utterly destroyed. 230k inducements are waiting to be wasted on ineffectual things. Wizard + Babe? Eldril Sidewinder? Mercenary tree to hide behind...?