Human The mighty Middenheim Magic

[Coach Xerwox]

The mighty Middenheim Magic
Bite like wolves, shoot like stars!

​

"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

Spoiler: The original season 11 line up

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

Spoiler: Season 16 line up

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

Spoiler: Season 20 Line up

Season 24 Line up​

(f.t.l.: Wild Hans Gans, "Oak" Barapaz Eichler, Carl the Comet, Bernd Bärbeiß, Ewald Eisbein, Herr Kahl, "Curt" Kurt Knapp, Mild Franz Gans, Gerren the Gentle, White Lightning Willy, Smokin' Hans Dampf, Ernst Eysenhardt and Big Belly O'Malley)

​

Carl the Comet, Thrower - Heir to a highborn bloodline, Carl has been schooled in athletics and tactics since he could walk, making the tall Middenheimer a splendid choice for a team leader and thrower for the city's Blood Bowl team. Taken under the Wing by Coach Barayurn the Blue, the young aristocrat quickly made a name for himself, known for his inhuman strength and astronomical passes which earned him his name in the end. Despite what malicious toungues might say about him, this high, wide and handsome guy is doing his job quite alright.

"White Lightning" Willy, Blitzer - They say Gold doesn't rust and by that Willy must've been cast in it because even Coach Barayurn watched this Middenheim legend play Blood Bowl in his childhood days - and all of us know who's retired by now. Being one of the old style, the White Lightning knows all the dirty tricks there are in this game, combined with a toughness and dedication to the sport that makes people say "They just don't make 'em like that anymore".
As a stern worshipper of Ulric, he follows the warrior god's codex even in Bloodbowl, where it's rubbing off on his team, which looks up to him in a mix of fear and admiration. So when the Magic gets in trouble on field, it's often his curt commands that gets the players into the needed positions. 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.

Ernst "Bell" Eysenhardt, Blitzer - When people talk about the bells of Middenheim, they're not the hollow metallic devices found in most city towers, but rather to the sound of helmets getting rung like bells by Eysenhardts punches. Descendant of the old House of Eysenhardt and a Knight in the Service of Boris Todbringer, the war-seasoned veteran was ordered by the latter to pull the city's team out of the mud after an especially disastrous season, which had Boris fuming (it is rumored he lost quite a sum to a fellow elector count). While Ernst's stern attidude and absolute dedication to his lord's orders often make him difficult to coordinate, his superb fighting skills and ability to incapacitate opponents completely make up for it.

Smokin' Hans Dampf, Blitzer - A transfer player from the Nuln Cannoneers, Hans Dampf moves like a fine-tuned machine, twisting through tacklezones with almost unnatural precision und speed. Once Dampf has started smoking, there's no stopping for this steam-powered excellence player from far Nuln.

"Oak" Barapaz Eichler, Blitzer - Barapaz shares many characteristics with the trees he used to fell before he joined the magic: he doesn't talk, he's stands firm as if hes grown roots and when he decides to hit you he will most likely squash you like an egg.

Big Belly O'Malley, Ogre-Blitzer - O'Malley really puts emphasis on not being just an Ogre, he might be an Ogre, but plays as a Blitzer. His other team mates aren't just humans after all, too. Nobody is really in the position to effectively discuss that with him without getting sat on by a pouting Ogre. Ogre-Blitzer.

Bernd Bärbeiß, Lineman - "Bernd is just a total animal, man. He'll bite your fucking fingers off. That guy's seriously messed up, why is he even allowed to play?!." - Galandel Eightfingers, one-time opponent.

We don't know actually, he's just there and everyones really terrified of him, honestly.

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 possesses the strength to brawl with Black Orcs and other creatures towering over most other men. He's always a bit on the edge, however, which sometimes leads to him losing his composure and becoming more of a threat to his own team.

Mild Franz Gans, Lineman - Hans' brother, who unlike his Brother, is a very reliable and overall decent lineman who happens to step on floored opponents by bad luck quite often. He also by chance inherited Vile Wenzel Gantz' custom shoes with the inch-long steel cleats.

Ewald Eisbein, Lineman - Ewalds not really fast, not really big or strong as well, but he's really doing his best out there - looking a little bit frozen in his too big armour because he can't handle the cold, and pretty out of breath. But Ewald never complains and takes punishment like a champ, a runny-nosed champ.

Herr Kahl, Lineman - The man only known as Kahl is another gift from Boris Todbringer. God knows where he got him, but he does his job well, even if he doesn't speak a word in the tongue of man. He's got a good singing voice, though, once he's had enough beer in the Twin-Tailed Wolf.

Gerren the Gentle, Catcher - Ah, Gerren - the dashing Star-Catcher with the famous shock of silver hair and the heartbreaker smile he's flashing when he's prancing over the sideline of the field. There's no player like Gerren when its about putting on a show: the man has fanclubs entirely about him alone - husbands hate him.

"Gerren stole my Woman! Who could be mad at him for it? Who could be mad at her for it?" - Fan

"Curt" Kurt Knapp, Catcher - Much less charming than his fellow colleague, 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 is a nightmare for other ball carriers, prowling the the backfield and pouncing on them once their team mates leave a gap for him for the blink of an eye.

Honorary Members
​

★ Urswyck "the Bear" Brugg, former Blitzer, retired -

Spoiler

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.

★ "Northstar" Lutz Lustig, Blitzer, retired -

Spoiler

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.

Lutz went on to be one of the most infamous and brutal Players in the Divisions he played in and never lost his touch of death. Unfortunately the years in the Big Crunch got the best of him, after breaking his neck and a knee injury he retired from the sport to pursue a career as a coach himself, although still closely in contact with his former team.

† The gone but never forgotten †
Obituaries by Coach Barayurn the Blue
​

† Grinning Wies Langbein, Catcher, killed by Amazons -

Spoiler

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.

"Langbein let his legs do the talking. Which was good, because you didn't understand a word that was coming out of his mouth."​

​

† Blind Benfred Hill, Lineman, dead by a vile foul of a shrewd norse barbarian -

Spoiler

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 -

Spoiler

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-

Spoiler

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 -

Spoiler

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."

† Yoren the Loaf, Lineman -

Spoiler

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.

"Nobody knows how long this guy had played with us, but i'll tell you, theres noone with a heel like yorens when its about injuring laying opponents."

 

[Ilgoth]

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

 

[Arlantry]

Cant wait till you do the report of our match

 

[Spafe]

Looking forward to the first of (hopefully!) many reports!

 

[Coach Xerwox]

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.

 

[Coach Xerwox]

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.

Spoiler

"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!

 

[TravelScrabble]

Wonderful report and a hell of a play!

 

[Otherguy]

Great Blog. Keep it up

 

[Coach Xerwox]

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.

Spoiler: the saving tackle: failed 3+ dodge, 2 GFIs into a stunning one dice

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.

 

[Coach Xerwox]

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".

 

[TravelScrabble]

Great stuff

 

[Coach Xerwox]

Dusk fell on the city of the white wolf and while ordinary people slept, two considerably tired men sat hunched over a parchment in the broom closet that was the coach office at Middenheim‘s Stadium of Stars.


„Isn‘t that illegal?“ Carl said, while sifting through player profiles of the upcoming season.

„They can‘t just field an elf skeleton along with whatever these 10 foot skeletons were before. I thought mixed teams aren‘t allowed in this competition?“

„Doesn‘t matter once they‘re dead. Been saying it for years, but i have the suspicion that one of the bigwigs in the NAF secretly is a vampire and they have ties with pretty much everything that‘s been six feet under.“ Coach Barayurn ran his knotted fingers along his uneven jawline. „Still … you know what they say about elves and their light-footedness: It‘s in the tendons – and you don‘t see too much of those on teams from Nehekhara. So i‘d be more wary of what those Tomb Guardians could do to our linemen, because they look like they could‘ve been Big Belly O‘Malleys Grandparents, and they got four of them.“

Carl the Comet nodded and fell quiet for a moment. Middenheim Magic has fought in the underdog divisons for two years and its been two weeks since they‘ve sealed their place in the second-tier division of Reikland. There were not many left of the ones who set out to bring the sport of Blood Bowl back to the Midden lands to see what the team had accomplished. There was him, Kurt and White Lightning Willy, who outlived players less than half this age in this brutal sport. The rest was dead, or retired if fortunate enough, like Urswyck or Lutz.

Still, the Team looked stronger than it ever did and was ready to take on whatever obstacles the new season would throw at them. Well, the Nehekhrarans of Immortal Mayhem would be a good test if that was actually true or just a nice sounding phrase for the books.

Matchday, somewhere beyond the dunes​

Three days later, the Star-Cruiser, Magic‘s blue and yellow painted coach, came to a halt in far Nehekhara, drifting sand already piling up on every protrusion of the wooden vehicle.

Out the Carriage‘s Door came 13 cursing players, shielding their eyes against the howling winds, running into the sheltering corridors of the Boneyard, a towering Arena entirely built out of sandstone. Eerie silence weighed down on the labyrinth of tunnels that led them past empty locker rooms, most of them covered in dust that indicated noone had set a foot in them for decades. „So which one is for us, the one with only two skeletons in it?“ Barapaz broke the silence, drawing a few nervous laughters from the rest. „I don‘t care as long as it has got water, got sand in me teeth ...“ Ewald Eisbein whined, picking his nose and spitting in an attempt to get rid of the fine sediment that seemingly got everywhere on the short way into the stadium.

After what seemed hours of looking, „Bell“ Eysenhardt suddenly stopped dead in his tracks next to a doorway and pulled out a piece of parchment, now looking closely at one of the thousands of hieroglyphics decorating the walls. „ I reckon it is this one.“ He turned and showed them a crude drawing of a twin tailed comet next to what appeared to be a wolfs head. The doorway was decorated with the same hieroglyphics, leading to a room with two skeletons in it.

„That looks more like a rat than a wolf!“ White Lightning Willy scoffed.

„I think it looks a little bit like Bernd.“ someone said.

„Why didn‘t you tell us, what we are looking for? We easily walked past that for three times!“ Carl shouted, clearly a bit peeved, because highborns never handle not being in the know too well.

„I can‘t let us be embarassed in this ‘ere lands, elector count Boris didn‘t send a knight to your aid for no reason. Play aways are political terrain.“ Eysenhardt retortet. Stuffing the parchment back into his pocket, the tall blitzer strutted into the room, blowing up thick clouds of dust in his wake.

Carl turned beet-red but was pushed into the room by the rest of the team before he could say anything and by the time he caught himself, he and the others were too busy fanning the billowing dust away from their faces while putting on their armour.

As it turned out, the hosts apparently didn‘t find it necessary to provide water for their opponents -possibly because dead people don‘t think about water too much, and so a pretty contrite team left the lockers to make their way onto the field.

Lined up like statues along the Line of Scrimmage, they were awaited by Immortal Mayhem, motionless skeletons of all sizes, some up to 12 Feet, only accompanied by the howling winds whistling through the cracks and holes of the stadium. Although being greeted by silence, the ranks turned out to be filled with hundreds of undead from all over the old world, ranging from a majority of skeletons to hulking flesh golems and, under a thick, green brocade baldachin, some vampires lounging in the shade.

„Told ya, the counts are in on it.“ Coach Barayurn murmured next to Carl and nodded in the direction of the Bloodsucker‘s Tent as one of them got up and walked to the front of the baldachin, close to where it‘s shadow ended.

„Greetings, Mortals of Middenheim! My name is Count Gonçalão Strigoi, head of the BBQAoUP (Blood Bowl‘s Questionable Association of Undead Players) and i‘d like to welcome you to the Boneyard, home of Immortal Mayhem!“ He exclaimed, raising his arms in a grand gesture. „I hope you had a pleasant journey and are refreshed and ready to play! Believe me when i say, all of us are DYING in anticipation of this match.“ the vampire laughed, before stepping back into the darkness of the baldachin.

The ancient walls of the stadium echoed with the rattling of bones as movement came into the audience and opponent players alike, who now got into formation on their side of the pitch. The captains met up on the line of scrimmage and a coin was tossed: Immortal Mayhem went for the first offense.

First Half​

„Get behind their lines if you can.“ Carl the Comet muttered to Kurt Knapp, their ballhawk catcher, who nodded and jogged off. The whistle signaled the start of the game and the thrower kicked the ball high into the air, deep into the backfield of Immortal Mayhem, where at the same time the roaring sound of a chainsaw started filling the air.

„Oh god, they snuck a chainsaw onto the field …“ Barapaz moaned, but the words of the Blitzer where already drowned out by the sounds of crashing metal. Buto the Forsaken, the biggest of the towering Tomb Guardians, plowed through the lines of Middenheim‘s defense, swinging his giant claw right into White Lightning Willy‘s Visor, who was sent flying and landed in the sand unconscious.

„Close the right side!“ Ernst ‘Bell‘ Eysenhardt yelled, crashing into a Skeleton following in Buto‘s wake, but little did that matter, as the attacking Tomb Guardians flung his team mates around with daunting ease. Between the mayhem (pun intended) of billowing sand, bones and blue helmets, the spluttering noise of the chainsaw disrupted the last bit of coordination the Magic had left and soon, the humans were pushed back and encircled in their own half by gapless advance of their undead opponent.

In their backfield, the Skeletons of Immortal Mayhem secured the Ball: Blitzer Maaiamthys Renhet got the ball into his once-elven fingers and turned to catch up to the forward-pressing rest of his team. Suddenly, a flash of blue shot out of the dust-cloaked melee‘s left and with a hoarse cough, Kurt Knapp dashed at the ball carriers convoy, his eyes already fixed on the ball.

Back in the brawl, Middenheim tried to push back their opponents, Knight-turned-Blitzer Ernst Eysenhardt sending teeth fly out their sun bleached jaws left and right, but where one Skeleton was sent to the ground, two got up, set their necks and jumped back into the scuffle. On the right flank, a Tomb Guardian broke through Middenheims lines with other Skeletons quickly forming a cage, waiting for the ball carrier to arrive on the right sideline of Middenheims half.

While Middenheim barely managed to close the mid field with everything they had, no one was left to stop the advance on the right except Star-Catcher Gerren the Gentle, who looked a little bit lost there without fans cheering for him or a ball to carry. In fact, he must‘ve been so perplexed with the situation that the Tomb Guardian clomping past him simply oversaw the small Catcher. Gerren seized the moment, jumping cleats first into the giant‘s lumbering steps and felling him with a thundering noise that had the brawling players turn their heads - just enough time for Middenheim to collect themselves and fight back!

Gerrens heroism came with a price though, as the catcher now got tackled by an Blitzer of Immortal Mayhem, but „Oak“ Barapaz Eichler and fellow Blitzer Smokin‘ Hans Dampf already rushed over and blocked the advance of the cage, while the other players forced the blindsided Undead to the left, now slowly rolling up the opponents lines. Kurt Knapp darted towards the Ball in an Attempt to stop him from reaching the cage, but a wary Skeleton sweeped the catcher off his feet just before Hack Enslash, the Skeleton wielding the Chainsaw emerged from the dust, raising the roaring weapon over his head. Luckily, someone stumbled right into him as he brought down the weapon, making both of them go down in a mix of arms, legs and chainsaw.

Sensing the shifting power balance, Maaiamthys Renhet and his convoy of Skeletons tried to push through the blockade on the right flank, as the comparably small Humans were no Match for the Tomb Guardians. It was just now, that Middenheims most unreliable player sensed his hour, and Wild Hans Gans lived up to his name once again, as the hulking lineman dauntlessly took on the Tomb Guardian attacking Middenheim‘s Blitzers, opening a gap just big enough for White Lightning Willy to slip through and take down the surprised ball carrier of Immortal Mayhem. The latter lost control over the ball, which now scattered and landed directly in front of the goal post of Middenheim Magic … the rattling of bones in the ranks of the stadium became deafening.

In a scene that would afterwards often be recalled as to why Middenheim now is more open to buying actual professional players, Smokin‘ Hans Dampf broke free from the sideline brawl, sprinted towards the goal post, before swooping up the ball and throwing it directly into Kurt Knapp‘s glove, raised high beneath the Line of Scrimmage. The catcher took off and before most of the players, Middenheim Magic included, could even turn their heads, he was already at the opposite side of the field.

Touchdown! Is what no one hollered. Instead, Bloodweiser and McMurtys Sandwiches got thrown onto the field as Zombies groaned in contempt and ghouls howled angrily.


With the end of the first half already near, Immortal Mayhem didn‘t waste any more time however and now began to show their guests the way they normally acted with their opponents. The referee blew his whistle and for the last few moments, nobody gave a damn about the ball, as the undead jumped right into a bloody brawl with Middenheim Magic. Gerren the Gentle got caught in a scuffle and was knocked unconscious, while the Tomb Guardians took on Big Belly O‘Malley and left him on the ground counting stars. Hack Enslash, the chainsaw wielding Goblin-Skeleton, chased Middenheim‘s poor linemen across the field, before getting fouled by one of the latter, which the referee surely would‘ve loved to penalize, if he hadn‘t miraculously looked past Hack and his roaring chainsaw for the entire first half.


With 1-0 for the guests, the teams went into their lockers to refresh themselves (at least those who were breathing), while Coach Barayurn waited for Captain Carl the Comet on the Sidelines.


„You see? They might get up faster than our toughest Linemen, but they can‘t outrun Kurt and Gerren. Let the guys run deep on both sidelines, go for the twin-tailed comet.“ Barayurn vaguely gestured the routes without waiting for an answer.


„About Gerren though, he‘s looking in two directions right now. I don‘t think we can field him next half ...“ Carl said, wiping the sweat from his forehead.


„He‘s a showman, Comet, he‘d run with one leg if it meant the possibilty of showing off to a bunch of corpses.“ the old coach chuckled and walked away.

 

[Coach Xerwox]

Second Half​

And indeed, as the teams left their locker rooms again, Gerren the Gentle strutted onto the field, altough still looking a bit roughed up. But Hack Enslash had gotten on his legs as well after the foul, and now, to the horror of Middenheim Magic, waddled right onto the field again too - past the referee who didn‘t seem to notice.

Before anyone could object, the whistle sounded and a Thro-Ra of Immortal Payhem kicked the ball over the line of scrimmage and right in front of Carls feet.

„Run!“ he shouted while fetching the ball off the ground and taking a few steps back.

Middenheims Players rushed into their opponents backfield, going around the defense in a twin-tailed advance. Immortal Mayhem fell back and encircled the catchers quickly, sending Kurt to the ground immediately. The recievers got tangled up in smaller scuffles and suddenly, a Blitz-Ra made his way into The Comets direction, who didn‘t find anyone to pass to behind the walls of bone and bronze. Beyond those lines, our knightly Blitzer Ernst „Bell“ Eysenhardt was struggling with a skeleton.

„Out of the way, ye olde bone!“ He barked, cracking the Nehekharan‘s Jaw with his iron-clad knuckles „You‘ve had your time in this sport, don‘t waste mine in your afterlife!“

Now free, Eysenhardt crashed into the Skeletons holding down Gerren the Gentle a second later.

„Pass, Comet!“ Gerren yelled, jumping high enough to make himself seen by the thrower, who sent the ball on his way in a high arch that captured the audience and some players alike.

„Touchdown!“ Gerren now cheered himself as he pranced into the end zone with the Ball held high above his head, even drawing a few cheers from skeletons that got carried away by the play.

With 2-0 well into the second half, Immortal Mayhem set up for their last offense in the second half, quickly thinning out Middenheims lines with Hack Enslash sawing down the Blitzers early in their drive and pushing past the line of scrimmage in a cage of Tomb Guardians.

Fending of the weaker players of their Human opponents, their lines were unexpectedly broken by Big Belly O‘Malley, using his Momentum to make a gap in the seamless defense of the Nehekharans. With the Ball Carrier Exposed, Smoking Hans Dampf dashed through the gap and sacked the Thro-Ra, while the fumbled ball was grabbed by White Lightning Willy, who now darted towards the End Zone of Immortal Mayhem, twisting and turning out of the defense maneuvers of the undead defendants.

„Touchdown ...“ The Counts groaned under their emerald baldachin as the Blitzer ripped the helmet from his head and stared down the audience with the ball held high into the air.


The whistle followed soon after and whatever Middenheim Magic must‘ve done to be that blessed by the gods to leave the stadium almost in one peace, they haven‘t gotten that lucky ever since.

_________________________________

„If the season goes on like this we might as well make it to Altdwarf“ Gerren gushed in the rumbling cabin of the Star Cruiser, who made his way back to the empire through dunes of shifting sands.

„Nah, Humans don‘t go to Altdwarf“ Smokin‘ Hans Dampf muttered, shaking sand out of his shoes.

„And if they do, they‘re more like supplies“ White Lightning Willy nodded and then stared into the distance, creating a short pause.

„Yeah and Middenheim has never had a team invited into Altdwarf. You know the westerners don‘t like the way we play the game“ Barapaz joked, earning a stern look by Ernst Eysenhardt, who didn‘t seem to enjoy the tone of this conversation.

„Middenheim has never had a knight lead it there, i will lead it there or it will be the last thing i do. Mark my words.“

„Well, Wulf Hartheim technically was a knight, but you know …“

„With Wulf we definitely wouldn‘t get to altdwarf ...“ Laughter engulfed the conversation.

In the next Cabin, where the voices could only be heard muffled by the partition, Carl and Barayurn sat across from each other. The coach smiled, like only a guy with a jaw broken 8 Times could smile.



„Mark his words, Comet.“

Thanks for reading, and of course thanks to @Kindrin and @Regor for lending me their characters