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Human The mighty Middenheim Magic

Discussion in 'Team Blogs' started by Coach Xerwox, Apr 17, 2018.

  1. Coach Xerwox

    Coach Xerwox Active Member

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    The mighty Middenheim Magic

    Bite like wolves, shoot like stars!

    523344387_preview_BBLoading_Human.png

    "We're the Middenheim Magic - run, when you see our star-sprangled helmets shine!

    None so fierce, none so proud like the White Wolf's sons of Middenheim!"

    - Middenheim Magic's pre-game anthem


    Middenheim's Seasons

    Season 11 - Indus


    Finishing Indus #1 with a record of 8-0-1

    The Team

    Middenheim Magic.jpg

    (f.t.l: † Russ, † Benfred, Carl, Bjorn, Kurt, Lutz, † Wulf, Willy, Urswyck, Wies and † Peter)

    Middenheimmagic 2.jpg

    (f.t.l: † Russ, † Wulf, Carl, Yoren, Urswyck, † Wenzel, Kurt, Brenn, Lutz, Willy, Bjorn, Wies and † Peter)

    Season 20 line up

    Middenheim s20.jpg



    Beardy Bjorn Eislauf, Lineman - Always somewhat crabby, he's incessantly complaining about something and if he isn't, it's prohably because of being knocked unconscious - about which he will heavily complain later on. Miraculously outlived all his fellow Linemen of the original Lineup, when he was the first to collect a permanent Injury.

    Handsome Brenn Hochfels, Lineman - A mountain of a man, Brenn descended from the old house of Hochfels. His particular weakness for women of any sort earned him his taunting nickname and way worse - a disinherit from his high father, whose footsteps he failed to follow after being caught with a cheerleader. Drinking himself to forget the shame, Big Brenn stumbled into Middenheim Magic in the Twin-tailed Wolf and beat up their beefiest guys, earning him an immidiate hirement by Coach Barayurn the Blue.

    Wild Hans Gans, Lineman - The hiring of Hans as a lineman is an ode to acting on the first look. Standing almost seven feet tall, Hans turned out to act like a wild goose when confronted with danger - he just turns crazy. Frantically flailing his arms everywhere and crashing into people of both teams, making Hans Gans nervous is the last chance gamble Coach Barayurn takes when things turn bad.

    Sneaky Kasimir Tatz, Lineman - Apparently not as sneaky as his name suggests, Kasimir got caught smuggling black powder and spices and thus ordered to work the horrendous bail in the city of Middenheim. Thus not really a fan of the true sport, Kasimir is known for always needing money and taking everything he can to turn it into the latter as well as sneaking many things the referee wouldn't approve of onto the field to make it through the game.

    Yoren the Loaf, Lineman - Yoren's head, in many ways, has anstonishing similarities with a giant loaf of bread. It looks like it, it is seemingly stuffed with it and if you punch it it doesn't seem to have that much of an effect - just like on a loaf of bread. Hated across the League for not really knowing how to play Blood Bowl but showing great prowess in stepping on people on the ground. We all wish there'd be more men like Yoren out there.

    Urswyck "the Bear" Brugg, Blitzer - Like all Bruggs known for being particularly strong, Urswyck is way too quick for his massive physique. His innate Instinct for taking down people even through the thickest cages earned him his name, honoring the primal force he is on the pitch. Also he eats for three people, which seems to be the real origin of his nickname.

    "White Lightning" Willy, Blitzer - They say Gold doesn't rust and by that old Willy must've been cast in gold because even Coach Barayurn watched this Middenheim legend play bloodbowl in his childhood days - and all of us know who's retired by now. Being one of the old style, the white Lightning is always up for a rant on the modernization of Bloodbowl due to safer armours or new techniques for broadcasting it across the land. A stern worshipper of Ulric, he follows the warrior god's codex even in Bloodbowl, where it's rubbing off on his team. Rumour has it that he's been wearing the same old shoes for decades and that their smell is strong enough to knock out a troll - which is exactly what he is said to have utilized them for.

    "Northstar" Lutz Lustig, Blitzer - A display of what the people of Middenheim regard as humour, Lutz Lustig's gnarly comments on the imcompetence of his enemies as well as fellow team members are almost as famed as his staggering blows, frequently leaving opponents seeing stars face down on the field. Once a burglar and scallywag, a priest of Ulric saw the spirit of the warrior god in young Lutz' agility and knack for knocking people out of their socks, thus giving him a second chance in the ranks of Middenheim Magic since "Blue Bolt" Barayurn's retirement.

    Kullgrenn "Stillborn", Blitzer - Left in a kurgan tent of an abandoned chaos siege on Middenheim, he was almost overlooked because he didn't cry even though surrounded by flames. Staying true to himself, Kull grew up to almost never speak, with a glare that could melt hardened steel and a brooding aura. As "Northstar" Lutz fittingly put it, not even he would snatch something off Kullgrenn's plate, you don't want to mess with Kull - firstly because he won't stop staring at you, secondly because he'll break your Hands so you can't do it again.

    Grinning Wies Langbein, Catcher- Hailing from far Whisenland, Wies' don't exactly fit the sheme of his fellow team by constantly sporting a somewhat cramped smile to the point where people are speculating if he once was hit by lightning in the fields of Whisenland. If so, it didn't take any of his irrepressible high spirits and spectacular speed passed through his family of messengers ever since.

    "Curt" Kurt Knapp, Catcher - Call it destiny but his parents might have been onto something when they named their little sunshine Kurt; because ever since he could speak he wouldn't ... and he's never been much of a sunshine as well. Known for making short work, Kurt quickly (pun intended) became a part of Middenheim Magic's offense and recipient for Carls soaring passes.

    "Snow" Errol Hatz, Catcher - Nobody ever wants to be the shortest in a Blood Bowl-Team and Errol is no exception on that matter, except that he is, in fact, the shortest on the team. Trying to make up for what he lacks in strength, Errol shines with remarkable speed and impatience to match, constantly prowling the opponent's backfield like a bird of prey. Although the latter comparison, much to his dismay, arose mainly because he looks around like a damn owl while doing it.


    Carl the Comet, Thrower - Heir to a highborn bloodline, Carl has been schooled in athletics and tactics since he could walk, making him a splendid choice for a team leader and thrower in bloodbowl, which he, because of his highborn bloodline, proceeded to be without a hitch. Despite everything malicious toungues might say about him, of which there is many, he is a more than capable player, known for his tactical prowess and astronomical passes which earned him his name in the end.

    † The gone but never forgotten †

    † Blind Benfred Hill, Lineman, dead by a vile foul of a shrewd norse barbarian
    - Nobody knows why and how Ben joined Middenheim Magic, and if Benfred could see who he's facing on Line of Scrimmage every match, he prohably wouldn't either. But as Nuffle works in mysterious ways he's still standing tall and and blind as on the day he first marched on the pitch, clinging onto irritated enemies and loudly asking for what's going on ever since.
    "He was a brave yet unknowing soul, always there, where he was needed - mostly by chance. He went far too late and yet way too soon."

    "Icewolf" Wulf Hartheim, Blitzer, killed by a Danish Yheti - This fella was as tough as they come. And if getting thrown out of the Teutogen Guard for being too brutal doesn't make you hard, originating from one of the oldest and most honorable houses the Faustschlag has to offer, literally having 'hard' as a component of their Name, most certainly will. A fearsome player known for his fighting spirit and his habit of barking curses and spitting on the pitch, Wulf seems to be the only one that talks to the White Lightning at some sort of eye level.
    "Tough as a nail with the humor of a dead bird. We will miss Wulf dearly even though he wouldn't miss us at all."

    Peter the Defeater, Ogre, can-opened by the same Yheti- While Peter doesn't know much about Bloodbowl, he's making a living off of making peoples teeth fly, which gives him a grasp of the very essence of bloodbowl per se. Once a sellsword in the armies of Middenheim, he has been undefeated but once, when he lost a game of cards and his freedom to coach Barayurn, who he ever since suspects of having cheated - a trait that speaks for his above ogrish intelligence.
    "Nuffle must've needed a new companion because Peter wouldn't be defeated by someone lesser."

    Russ the Bull, Lineman, hit by a furious Fan's rock - A former smith, Russ sports an eponymous neck, a broad chest and a hefty chin made for taking hits, making him a welcome sight on the pitch for his rather fine-boned team mates. He was made to be hit; you know it and when you see him being sent flying again with that cheeky grin around the corner of his mouth, you know he knows it too.
    "The loudest and nicest guy in the room. It will take some time to fill his place in our team. No really: he drank about 30 percent of Middenheim Magic's Bloodweiser Rations."
     
    Last edited: Mar 30, 2020
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  2. Ilgoth

    Ilgoth Courier Staff

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    Great to see someone filling the empty space my Wardens left. Good luck with your human team.
     
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  3. Arlantry

    Arlantry Active Member

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    Cant wait till you do the report of our match
     
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  4. Spafe

    Spafe New Member

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    Looking forward to the first of (hopefully!) many reports!
     
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  5. Coach Xerwox

    Coach Xerwox Active Member

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    Epiloque

    Dusk fell on the city of the white wolf and threw long shadows into the Stadium of Stars while the ordinary inhabitants of the Faustschlag spent the evening in taverns or at home with their families, two men pondered over the upcoming matches of Middenheim's Bloodbowl team, eponymous Middenheim Magic: Coach Barayurn the Bolt and fellow team captain and thrower Carl the Comet. Looking up from the schedule, Barayurn eyed Carl from across the desk before folding his hands and nodding towards the parchment.

    "So, what do you think?"

    Carl silently glanced down at the names written on the Paper, as if he hadn't done it at least a dozen times in the last hours: "Lizardmen. They're stronger than us, faster too - they're not even wearing armour and being called "The Hard Scales" doesn't leave much space to speculate why."

    "You forgot the worst about them."

    "So? That being ...?"

    "Their stadiums." Barayurn leaned back in his chair and gave him a significant look. "You can be as tough and fast as you want, but it wont matter because half your team will be knocked out by the time the referee draws breath for the starting whistle."

    "Why?" The Comet's masquerade of confidence seemed to brittle as he followed suit and fell back into his chair with a sulked look upon his face.

    "Because your bloody brains will be well done under the lid that are your damn Helmets! Do you know nothing about the damn weather down in Lustria?"

    "Well now i do ... So how are we gonna handle it?"

    "That's exactly the question i asked you earlier." Barayurn smirked like only he could. Like only a person with a jaw broken eight times could.

    Carl shrugged and crossed his arms, waiting for the coach to finish.

    "We don't. You don't go and catch lizards after they've basked in the sun as well, do you?"



    First Matchday of the Season, the Stadium of Stars.


    The Hard Scales vs. Middenheim Magic

    Glaring sunlight flooded the Stadium of Stars, while a tender breeze ran through the slightly billowing grass. One could feel the tension bearing down on the field, a few early fans already sitting in the stands, some birds singing in the warm, vernal air so uncommon for the Midden Mountains - something seemed off.

    Grinning Wies Langbein sat on a bench in front of Middenheim Magic's dressing rooms, squinting into the sun or maybe just having his ordinary facial cramps - prohably both - while Bjorn Eislauf beside him cared to rehash why this indeed was absolutely awful weather for this particular day: "This is absolutely not fair. It hailed on my birthday last year and the year before and just today where we have cold-blooded enemies we have the warmest day in weeks." He sighed and examined his left boot.

    "Ain't fixin' t'stop naggin' are ya? Y'all Middens' pale like milk, crack a dam' smile when sun's out!" Wies smilingly slurred in his broad Wisenlandish dialect as as he shielded his eyes from the sun to look across the pitch.
    "I bet those lizards had one of their fat ass toad kings bring the sun with 'em!" Lutz butted in, stepping out of the dressing room and into the sunlight, closely followed by grim-looking Wulf. As the players of Middenheim one after one gathered up on their sideline, putting on their helmets and making last preparations, their opponents made their way onto the pitch.

    "Fuck." Wulf fittingly put the sight of six towering Saurus, all of whom twice as broad-shouldered as Russ (and Russ was nearly twice as wide as some of his own team mates), a hulking Kroxigor and four fleet-footed Skinks into words. "What?" Blind Benfred Hill asked. "They's a half-orc, half-salamander lookin' bunch 'n gobbers with tails" Wies vividly described their opponents but Benfred just replied he wouldn't know what a salamander was and who could be mad at him for that. The last one to leave the dressing rooms was coach Barayurn himself; limping to the sideline he passed his clipboard to Carl, visibly grinding his teeth.

    "Seems like their gods upset your plans." Middenheim's captain remarked, then looking at the Clipboard. "Are those supposed to be player profiles?" He asked, flipping through the parchments, the Kroxigor's simply reading "Grimlock, Kroxigor, likes to smash" followed by "Snarl, Saurus" and five other Saurus profiles following suit. "Yeah, tools for their gods ... Ulric wants to see what you're made of, at least that's what Willy would say about all of this" Barayurn nodded towards the arriving referee "You better not fail him."

    First Half

    The coin was tossed and Middenheim Magic set themselves up for their offense. As the starting whistle echoed through the stadium, the ball darted high into the air, maybe even a bit higher than it was supposed to, giving Carl time to dash towards it's landing position. While the Comet was busy with getting the ball into his highborn hands, White Lightning Willy buried his fist deep into the nearest saurus' paunch, making way for Catcher Kurt Knapp and his bluff convoy of Lutz and Wulf, the latter crashing head first into a pair of surprised skinks and thus clearing the path for the catcher.
    On the other sideline, Wies long legs carried him deep into the Hard Scales' half but Middenheim Magic's advance seemed to end as one of the Saurus rang the bell that was Bjorn's helmet and instantly sent him off the field, a barrage of curses signalizing Wulf sharing the same fate shortly thereafter. Seeing his team struggle, Carl dashed forwards and threw the Ball to Kurt but a giant Saurus pushed the taciturn catcher aside just in time and the Ball slipped from his hands. Landing in the grass it got scooped up by a nearby Skink who quickly carried it across the pitch, trying to slip through Middenheim's lines on the other Sideline.

    "Fumble!" Carl shouted towards his team mates while trying to close the gap their opponents were breaking through. Freeing him and his fellow Blitzer Urswyck, Lutz lived up to his name by knocking over the towering Kroxigor with one of his staggering blows, rushing to Carl's rescue a second later. Thundering steps heralded Peters incoming aid, urging the Skinks to make short work and break through their enemies' lines.
    As Saahrotaar, the Skink carrying the Ball, slipped past Lutz and Carl he oversaw the Shadow approaching from the right and was hit by Urswyck's armored knee with enough force to knock him off the field and drop the ball. Seeing a chance to make up for his failure, Kurt Knapp fetched it off the ground and bolted towards the Hard Scales' end zone, closely followed by Grimlock and two other Lizards. In a last burst of speed he leaped over the Kroxigors spike-studded tail and rolled into the end zone in a ball of Skink, grass and well - Kurt.

    "Touchdown!" the Masses hollered and the players of Middenheim Magic joined in with excitement, ending the first half with a score of 1 - 0.
     
    Last edited: Jun 22, 2018
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  6. Coach Xerwox

    Coach Xerwox Active Member

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    Second Half

    Their joy didn't last very long however as Bjorn must've taken a good hit as he didn't recover in the mean time. The starting whistle shrilled again and blind Benfred Hill was sent off the field by a fiery punch of Grimlock he didn't see coming. The Hard Scales got hold of the ball charged forwards, pushing through Middenheim's Defence as if it were a bunch of children. The Saurus, spurred on by their hovering coach, sent player after player to the ground, moving forwards like a unstoppable wall of scales and muscle.

    "Get your asses over here!" the White Lightning barked, having Wies and Kurt immobilize one of the advancing Saurus with joint forces as he doffed one of his shoes, stuffing it deep into the saurus jaws. The giant reptile stumbled backwards, visibly puzzled with what just happened as his eyes suddenly rolled back into his head; dropping like a felled tree and unveiling a very surprised Skink with a ball in his fine-boned hands. Lutz' fist on the other hand was anything but delicate as it flew through the gap a second later, knocking the skink to ground. Unfortunately for his team, the Ball scattered behind the remaining Saurus, where another Skink fetched it off the ground, swiftly running around Middenheim's defenders, who were by now swarmed by angered Saurus avenging their fallen comrade. Unable to catch up to the reptile, Sahrotaar made it into Middenheim Magic's end zone, scoring the leveling 1-1 for the Hard Scales!

    The masses went wild and cheered the scorer while Middenheim picked their players off the ground to plan their next offense.

    "This is not the score i'm leaving the field with today, boy." Barayurn muttered as he handed Carl a towel as the latter sunk onto one of the benches on Middenheim Magic's sideline. "We'll go with the twin-tailed comet again, we cant risk running the ball against their Saurus and risk a fumble, got that?" Carl pantingly nodded and wiped the highborn sweat off his face, clarified the next offense with the rest of the team before marching on to the field again.

    As the whistle sounded again and the Ball landed a few feet away from Carl, his team already was on it's bifurcated advance into the Hard Scales' half, Kurt Knapp with guarding Wulf Hartheim and Urswyck, Wies Langbein loning it on the other side, a lurking Saurus quickly shadowing him. As "Icewolf" Hartheim charged towards the defending Skinks though, he stepped into a fateful hole in the ground, flooring him with a lout "Fuck!". It was only a matter seconds till one of the Saurus "accidentaly" clomped over Middenheim's Blitzer, leaving him paralyzed in pain. As Carl stared down the field, seeing the left tail of the comet play being sealed by the lizards, he oversaw the hulking shadow approaching from the line of scrimmage. Suddenly a Saurus pounced on him, swinging his clawed paw after the thrower's head. Dodging it last-minute, Carl evaded the sack and dashed forwards with the Saurus on his tail. Almost despairing, he saw a glove darting up behind a Saurus twenty meters into the Hard Scales' half.

    "Slog that dam' pigskin, Comet" Wies yelled and as Carl delivered one of his famed soaring passes, the catcher leapt up and caught the ball mid-air, slipping through the snatching arms of the Saurus and running off towards the Hard Scales' end zone like only a Langbein could.


    Nice Pass.jpg

    "Touchdown!" The crowd thundered, having even Middenheim Magic's own players turn their heads in disbelief. But there he stood: Wies Langbein, grinning and basking in the sun as well as the crowds applause. The Hard Scales hissed dangerously, as they gathered up on the Line of Scrimmage without further a do, but the sun faded from Wies' face and an chilling breeze went through the stadium of stars, paralyzing the fearsome Reptiles for a second. Looking up, Middenheim's players saw grey clouds racking over the Midden Mountains, freezing winds heralding the approaching snow storm. Returning to the sideline, coach Barayurn already awaited the team with a sly grin on his face, something you couldn't say of him very often because he smiled rarely and if, it mostly looked more like was in pain than in joy.

    "We still have few more seconds to go, so don't get too comfy with the score. Skinks don't need that much time to get into our end zone ... under normal circumstances." The aging coach walked on to the sideline and looked into the sky, where the clouds slowly swallowed the sun and her warming light, a few snowflakes already silently trickling down.

    "Ulric is pleased i'd say." Wulf snarled towards White Lightning Willy, only earning a curt nod though. As both teams set themselves up on the line of scrimmage, the movements of the lizardmen already didn't seem as fluid and swift as they were before, the saurus seeming somewhat ponderous. The whistle echoed through the stadium for the fourth time and the Hard Scales proved that speed wasn't all that detrimental to giving Middenheim Magic a good beating. As time was getting scarce they staked everything on one card and pushed the left sideline open for Sahrotaar to slip through and run a leveling touchdown. Running with everything he'd got though, the Skink, unused to the dropping temperatures, suffered a cramp in his left leg and stumbled when trying run close to the sideline, fumbling the ball and thus ending the Hard Scales' chance for an even score.

    The referee's whistle ended the game, having the crowd go wild and the players of Middenheim Magic take a relieved breath before cutting capers over the hard-earned victory.

    "First one's on me!" Russ rumbled, propping Bjorn as the squard walked of the field and straight into their local pub, the "Twin-Tailed Wolf", to flush away their aches and possible teachings of the first match day!
     
    Last edited: Jun 22, 2018
  7. TravelScrabble

    TravelScrabble Well-Known Member

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    Wonderful report and a hell of a play!
     
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  8. Otherguy

    Otherguy Active Member

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    Great Blog. Keep it up :)
     
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  9. Coach Xerwox

    Coach Xerwox Active Member

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    It's been a while, but the next report is out! Note that the roster changed and there's new player profiles in the first post! I hope you enjoy the read. Over the following weeks the rest of Season 11 will follow surely!

    Somewhere in the frozen steppe of Kislev

    "I- I think my big left toe just froze off ..." Bjorn whined as little white clouds ascended from his ice-covered beard. Sitting between Wulf, who looked like he just ate a dead bird (i.o.w. like he always does) and fire-water-sipping Russ, the frosted lineman has been complaining ever since the Star-Cruiser, famous carriage of Middenheim Magic, left the Empire and rattled and jolted it's way along the frozen roads of the Kislevite Empire. "A-Ain't fixin' to stop na-naggin' are ye?" Wies blueish, frozen-cramped grimace asked him from the opposing bench of the wooden cabin, but the Whisenlandish catcher seemed to handle the cold even worse than the rest of the team, who were used to the cold climate of the Midden Mountains.

    So as the Carriage made it's way through the snow-covered countryside, the brandy changing owners to prevent the player's blood from turning into bloodsicles, Coach Barayurn and Carl the Comet sat in a separate Chamber of the long Wagon, making preparations for the oncoming match.

    "These guys you are gonna face aren't exactly used to losing, boy. And with not used to i mean they never do." Barayurn brushed off a few Snowflakes of the clipboard and tipped his crooked index on it. "High-born just like you, rich and schooled in athletics since they could walk. Basically ..." the coach leaned back on his seat and gave the young captain a distinct smile: "You're about to face eleven of your own kind cutting capers in expensive furs and silk trousers."

    "So?" Carl looked on the first player profile of the clipboard, reading 'Boris Berezovsky'. "So they'll be quick as young bucks and strong like snow lions." The coach made a short pause. "But we've got a carriage full of half-drunken hounds - all you gotta do let them off their leash." Barayurn chuckled.

    "Are we there yet?" Blind Benfred Hill asked in the player cabin. "Yeah, we're on the field already, didn't you notice?" Lutz quipped and reached for the bottle, giving the white-haired lineman a dig with his elbow as the carters voice echoed from the front: "Arriving at Rublyovka Mansion!"
    High, white, onion-domed towers peeked up into the niveous skies, emerging from what looked more like a small castle with extensive but frozen-over gardens. The Star-Cruiser stopped in it's small courtyard, with the little snowman that was the carter stiff-leggedly jumping off the coach box to open the carriage doors.
    As the last players of Middenheim Magic left the Cabin, a servant approached the coach, leading the new guests to their changing rooms, where hot beverages and heated floors welcomed the frosty companions to refresh and equip themselves.

    Second Matchday of the Season, the Rublyovka Mansion's in-house Pitch.
    The Capering Oligarchs vs. Middenheim Magic
    First Half

    A few minutes later the now warmed up bunch of Middeners gathered on the sideline of the playing field, an extensive winter garden with a soaring ceiling. Grass sprouted beneath their shoes, making a sharp contrast to the frozen landscape outside the mansion.

    "Greetings, Men of Middenheim! Welcome to the glorious field that is mine, Boris Berezovsky's, home and soil" a deep, strongly accented voice declared from the locker rooms across the Pitch, where a tall man cloaked in a billowing, luxurious bear pelt walked onto the Line of Scrimmage, followed by his nearly equally well-heeled team mates; catlike, muscled Kislevites with an arrogant trait around their eyes that let their welcoming words seem more like a condescension than an expression of joy.

    With the Teams gathered up on the middle of the field, the referee, an old, hunched yet swiftly moving man, pulled out a big bronze coin, nervously eyeing the noble Kislev Blitzer who'll later turn out to be his lord. "Heads." the Kislevite declared pointing at the coin as to what Carl needlessly responded "Tails ...".

    "Who's taking heads?" Blind Benfred Hill asked, but got ignored by the rest of the team as the coin was flipped and the aging referee slammed it on to the back of his hand, displaying heads to great satisfaction of the Kislev. "Well flipped, Ryurik!" the feudal lord remarked, giving the man a strong slap on the crooked shoulders, making him drop the coin into the grass - where it landed on the other heads.
    "You cheating cunts!" Wulf Hartheim barked, shoving unknowing Benfred Hill (one might remember that he is blind) aside and stepping face to face with with the smugly grinning nobleman. "Nobody said there would be tails" the latter answered much to the merriment of his team mates. "Save it, Baldey, bear ain't outrun wolf with a margin, don't shame ya name." Wies muttered from the second row, holding the curt Blitzer back.

    With Middenheim Magic setting themselves up against the Capering Oligarchs, Ryurik grabbed his referees bugle and let a deafening tone echoe through the high dome of the wintergarden.

    As Carl kicked the ball a little high, Wulf didn't loose any time and crashed head first into Berezovsky with a nasty clatter, leaving the tall but fairly unarmoured Oligarch paralyzed on the floor, a gob of the Icewolf's spit landing on his dazed face a second later.
    Somewhere on the other sideline of the field, "Northstar" Lutz Lustig was sent into the grass by a furious kick of his Kislevite opponent and soon both teams were caught in a brutal melee on the Line of Scrimmage that had Peter the Defeater go down with ground-shaking force. Somewhere within the broil, Lutz got up on his feet again and eyed Boris through the turmoil around him, jumping through a breach and dashing into his direction. The latter just sent Urswyck to the ground with a kick of his iron-shod boots "So they call you the Bear?" The Kislevite asked, spreading out his arms and proudly displaying his huge bear pelt. "I killed this one by myself. Let me show you ho-" was as far as the Kislevite could get, before the Northstars' incoming steel-clad knuckles deformed his face, making his teeth fly into the faces of the by-standing players. As the big nobleman went down like a felled tree, much to the distress and anger of his landsmen, Middenheim Magic used the confusion to pounce on their opponents, forcing the swift Kislev to retreat into their half to reposition themselves as Ryurik waited beside Boris for him to get carried of the field with a not very caring look upon his face.

    The Capering Oligarchs quickly set themselves up again, getting hold of the ball and moving forward, they were trying to use their speed to run around Middenheims defences. They didn't get very far until thundering steps announced Peter, who pushed himself into Kislev's Cage, wrapping his trunk-thick arms around three of their players at once, his giant paunch seemingly everywhere. To his left Lutz knocked a uncautious Linemen out of his socks when he tried to break through the defences of Middenheim Magic. When suddenly the the White Lightning appeared behind Kislev's cage the noble men of the frozen steppe were forced to run close to the sideline to keep their ball carrier safe.

    If there's something you never are, however, it's being safe from White Lightning Willy with the ball in your hands. And thus the Kislev suddenly found the old Blitzer standing withing their cage, where previously their ball carrier had stood, him now laying in the grass in front of Blind Benfred Hill. While the men of Kislev sent Willy off field in a frenzy over their knocked down catcher, Blind Benfred Hill stumbled forwards and, of course completely unknowing, stepped right onto the catcher's head. As the confused lineman was pulled off-field for a foul he clearly didn't mean to do, Kislev used the situation to carry the ball to the other side of the field, where Mikhail Friedman, the second most high-born man of the team and a giant himself, took it and dashed through a gap in Middenheim's defense, knocking Carl unconscious and leaving everyone behind as he sprinted towards Middenheim's end zone with stunning speed.

    It was already too late when the Players of Middenheim saw him bolt towards their touchdown zone and the Kislevites clung onto them like bear traps hindering them from going after him, as a cursing figure broke out of the scuffle on the line of scrimmage and dashed towards the already triumphantly jogging Oligarch.

    Lutz Lustig tackle.jpg


    Lutz Tackle.jpg
    Too late Mikhail heard the heavy panting and hasty steps behind him, too loud already were the cheers of the crowd to hear the clanking armor, as a star-sprangled shadow crashed into him, digging his face into the dirt of the pitch and leaving him paralyzed in the grass, the ball rolling from his hands - mere two meters away from the end zone. "Look's like i still know how to run down a buck." Lutz sneered, shaking the pain off his fist as the whistle heralded the end of the first half.
     
    Last edited: Jun 19, 2018
  10. Coach Xerwox

    Coach Xerwox Active Member

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    Second Half

    But Carl didn't recover from the devastating blow he got from the Kislev Nobleman and so Middenheim Magic had to set up their offense without their most essential piece - their captain and thrower. With their most important and high-born piece missing, the rowdy bunch lined up on the offense, now outnumbering their beat-up hosts.

    "So how we gonna roll?" Urswyck asked, tightening the chin strap of his helmet. "Well, if the Comet stays on the sideline, i guess we'll do it the wolf's way, like real Middenheimers should!" Russ rumbled as he took position on the line of scrimmage, towering over the Kislev-Lineman in front of him. "Punch Ice-People" Peter agreed and clenched his giant, scarred fists as the referee blew his whistle.

    The ball darted high into the dome of the winter garden and landed close to Wies Langbein, who got hold of the "ol' Pigskin" and advanced in the shadow of Wulf Hartheim, making their way to the line of scrimmage. As Peter slowly went on a frenzy and chased after single, scared-to-death Kislevites, the remaining team escorted Wies in a close cage, slowly making their way to their host's endzone, as the first shadow flew above their heads and landed right inside their cage.

    Suddenly the second Boyar, Mikhail Friedman pounced on Wies, trying to pry the ball away from the Whisenlander's sun-tanned hands. However his efforts found a sudden end as strong arms pulled him away and threw him to the ground, where the cage left him, advancing further towards the Capering Oligarchs end zone.
    As Peter continued his thundering, paunch-wobbling and drooling chase after the left-over Kislev players, some of them regained their formation and stopped the cage in his tracks as they closed in on the players of Middenheim.
    With all due respect to the Capering Oligarchs' fighting spirit, it got them into a very bad situation, as they got into a wild melee with Middenheim's players. Lutz dashed through a breach in the cage, his blood-crusted knuckles claiming another victim and Russ smashing heads with a Kislevite who apparently wasn't as thick skulled as the Bull and had to leave the field in the aftermath, while the Bull stood in awe for a few seconds, as if something about the crash had enlightened him.
    Seeing the situation getting risky however, Wies sprinted through the gap Lutz Lustig made for him and sealed the second touchdown for Middenheim Magic. "Touchdown!" the crowd hollered and celebrated what would decide the game as a save win for the guest team.

    As the Referee's Whistle ended the game, the defeated yet proud noblemen of Kislev lined up on the line of scrimmage and bowed heads to their opponents, as their injured players got carried into the castle and the crowd left the ranks to return to their mundane duties in their frozen kingdom.

    Packed with a generous provision for their journey back to Middenheim, the Middeners carried their captain into the Star-Cruiser and made do with the gut-wrenchingly strong liquor the Capering Oligarchs included in the provision to flush away the cold and have a chummy and merry ride home to the city of the white wolf, where they'd surely continue their evening in the "Twin-Tailed Wolf".
     
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  11. TravelScrabble

    TravelScrabble Well-Known Member

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    travelscrabble
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    travelscrabble
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    Great stuff
     
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  12. Coach Xerwox

    Coach Xerwox Active Member

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    Line up updated, Players mourned, Ready for Season 20!

    - Reserved for Epilogue -​
     
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