My new squad of Wood Elf nutters, named and themed after this series. Just completed their first match against Ravers' crippled (and now dead) Nurgle team. Quick note - Visyna is the team's thrower, and Konowa and Kritton are the wardancers. Everyone else is a lineelf. Major Konowa Swift Dragon felt rather cheered when he looked over the pitch, his eyes easily able to see the motley crew staffing the far sideline. "Hmm. Four warriors, a single of those rancid beastmen creatures, and the rest are merely shuffling corpses. Quite decomposed corpses, at that. That's hardly going to prove a challenge for the mobility of the Iron Elves." Visyna, his partner and the team's leading passer, was somewhat less sanguine. "Look at the clouds of flies and pestilence that's scattering off the warriors. That's going to make passing damned difficult. And if you think I'm going to run up and punch one of those creatures, you're a fool. I'll be doing my level best to make sure they never lay a finger on me." "As you should, dear, as you should. For we of the Iron Elves are protected most of all by our ability to avoid contact, to strike where the opponent is not and to fade away from where he is. That's why we wear these fetching leathers, and not that gaudy steel and chainmail of our elven cousins. Plus, form fitting leather just looks better on a woman. It's so supple..." "Ahem. Konowa. Mind on the game. You're our captain, not our lecher in chief." The Major snorted. "I am both. And I'll show you. Right after the match." His wink could have been no more lewd had it come from a phallic demon. Simply shaking her head, Visyna shoved Konowa in the direction of the referee, who was attempting to call the teams together for the traditional coin flip. Well, it was a usually a coin. Sometimes it had been a small goblin, maybe a snotling. This time, though, it was just a coin. Konowa was thankful for that. Snotlings made such a mess when they landed. Given that his counterpart was one of those disgusting warriors, permanently surrounded by a cloud of vermin, the Major did his best to keep his mouth closed during the coin toss. Not that that prevented a fly or two from attempting to explore his perfectly shaped nostrils. Despite such an intolerable intrusion, his calm was able to hold until he returned to the huddle, having chosen to receive the ball. Visyna was there to greet him. "Aren't you supposed to kick off and take the advantage for the second half?" "Oh, quite possibly. But offense wins the day, and always has! Plus, it means we can run away more effectively." "Right. Good thinking." Unfortunately, what the Iron Elves had forgotten to run away from was the crowd, which took the moment of the kickoff to throw various objects onto the pitch. One such object cracked Visyna upside the head, just as the ball was coming down to land next to her. Corporal Kritton, the other star player for the Iron Elves, glanced over at the Major. "Do you think that was the other team cheating or just a regular Blood Bowl crowd?" "Regular crowd, I think. Now pay attention, the ball's practically at your feet!" "Yes sir!" And with that, the Iron Elves were off, most of them sprinting to the right, Corporal Kritton having retrieved the ball and handed it off to Major Swift Dragon, with a few hanging back in case of a need to swing the ball across the pitch. Unfortunately, the doctrine of mobility hadn't quite been employed properly, with a few of the more eager lineelves having charged over to get a good whack in on a warrior near the sideline. Or, more properly, to fail to get a good whack in, since the smelly bugger was so foul the player who'd tried to hit him drew back in disgust at the last moment. "Hah, look at them! They're trying to man mark elves! Don't those daft creatures know we're far more nimble than they are?" Kritton pointed. "Major? I don't think that's man marking. I think that's just punching us in the face." "Ah, so it is. And look at that horned creature! He's charging right into Private Alwyn points first, that's hardly fair." The aforementioned private, being somewhat more talented than expected, pirouetted out of range of the oncoming pestigor, turning it so it drove its horns into the ground. With an echoing crack, the creature's neck snapped and it crumpled, dead on the pitch. Alwyn, so excited by his dodge, fell over himself. "Lorian! Over here. I want you to hit that ugly bastard as hard as you can in the chops. Do try and make it convincing this time, Lorian." Being a somewhat excitable fellow, Lorian launched himself full speed into the warrior. The effort was admirable. The execution, mostly flawless. The warrior stumbled out of bounds, although not particularly hurt. "Lorian, next time you hit someone, use a fist. Your face isn't a good striking surface. Especially against a chest." "Sir, didn't want to get my hands dirty." Konowa was still shaking his head as he made a break across the pitch, stopping just short of Visyna to lob an easy pass to her. She, still a little groggy from the rock, promptly dropped it to the ground. "Ahem. Konowa. Throw to my hands. Not my groin!" "It's just where the eyes go, dear. "Why you little... Oh hell." Visyna flew away from the ball as a decayed corpse charged into her, it leading a wedge of its fellows followed by one of the warriors, all flooding over now that the ball was safely on the ground. Not that such a thing stopped Visyna from retrieving the football from where she'd dropped it. "I see they made you angry." "What's making me angry is where you keep positioning my defenders. Look at this lot, you've left a gap over by the sideline. Stop being distracted!" "Umm... Major?" The Corporal pointed. "Not this shit again." Visyna did fly through the air in such a pretty manner though. Unfortunately, the ball didn't fly with her, having been ripped from her grasp by the rotter that had punched her but good. "Sometimes, you just have to do things yourselves." Konowa Swift Dragon lived up to his name as he darted through the opposition, ducking past the reaching arms of a warrior, hopping over the legs of a rotter, and then tossing himself bodily through the air to punch the ball carrying rotter straight off of the pitch. This magnificent effort he followed up with a rude gesture, and a retreat to a safe distance. Sadly, the supporters the ball had landed amongst had been mostly in favour of the opposing team, and so tossed it up the field, near many of their players. During all this fracas, a rotter had snuck up Corporal Kritton, and not only knocked him over as he tried to get away, but then kicked him when he was down. "Referee! That's entirely unsportsmanlike conduct! Plus, I donated to your retirement fund before the match..." Understanding dawned on the umpire's face, and he tweeted on his whistle, pointing at the rotter and telling it to get off the pitch. "Much obliged. You'll get a bigger donation if you can do that again. Now team, get to that ball!" The Iron Elves charged up the pitch, doing their best to stay out of contact with the opposing squad, and a few of them were even able to stand over the ball. Not without risking the presence of a warrior or two, sadly. Which they promptly suffered as the slower moving but stronger opponents arrived and battered a few of them to the ground. Not without some effort, it must be said. "Good lads, making them waste energy like that." "Sir, they're being kicked in the head again." Corporal Kritton was doing a lot of pointing this match. Mostly because he had to keep distracting the Major from Visyna's lovely... assets. "Yes, well, that's called taking one for the team. And they're admirable at it." "Maybe we should get our own back?" "Very good. See that it's done." "Private Scolly! Punch that rotter. I want to see it off the pitch!" Scolly, much to the amazement of the crowd, and the Iron Elves, did exactly that, hitting the rotter so hard its brain stopped working. What was left of it, anyway. Stirred by his accomplishment, a few teammates marked up on the warrior nearest the ball, leaving it open for Major Swift Dragon to punch him in the back. Not very sporting, but he was an elf, not an idiot. He'd take his chances where he could. And he did, dodging into the thicket of rotting flesh around the ball, snagging it from the ground, and skipping away to hide behind a screen. The effect of his magnificence was somewhat lessened when Rallie stumbled trying to get away from a warrior, and ended up howling on the pitch with a fractured arm. Not a very soldierly response that. Whatever happened to stiff upper lip and elven dignity? All that said, it was hardly enough to given the opponent's an opening, and after arranging a nicely done set of screens, Konowa found himself handing the ball off to Private N'Bhat for the touchdown. "Good lad that one, solid at marking. Gave me a hand when I had to knock the rotter out of bounds. And he's got our first official touchdown." The Major then addressed himself to the whole team. "Good work, all of you. Aside from you, Rallie. That was dreadful. Do try and be more elven. Now, I want a hot cup of tea and a nice biscuit, and then we can discuss our plans for the second half. We're going to have to play defense." There was a solid round of boos at this.