As the near-record crowd gathered in the Hackers’ woodland stadium (Fire Safety Certificate in the post), the tension between the opposing fans mounted palpably. After all, the dwarfs sneered, these weren’t just posh, silver-clad, poem-reciting, spike-eared, tear-shedding, dress-wearing, horse-loving High Elves... these were Wood Elves, the Friends of the Foliage, the Lovers of the Leaves or, in the ancient dwarfish, Grun Dron Noh-Noh (Trans: Touchers of the Furry Folk). These lunatics didn’t even wear armour!
As the home team faced off against the Dwarf Warhammerers though, the jeers and chants of the crowd were but a distant murmur. The Hackers, having convincingly defeated the Grinning Moons in their last game, were fast hoping to become the giant killers of the league, if their opponents stood but a little taller, at least...
Their morale (and bowel control) loosened a little as they watched Flint Churnblade waddling onto the field, his balance up-ended by the roaring chainsaw that was brandished above his head.
‘Zipper’ Hare-Foot was in fact heard to comment when he saw the smoke billowing from the back of the dread-machine, ‘That can’t be good for the trees!’
Girth the Treeman was however, more worried about the other end.
As the game began, the shout of ‘ONE...! TWO...! THREE...!’ went up on the side-lines. It was not, in fact, the coaching staff timing the start of the elves’ plays, but rather the tally of touchdowns which the Hackers had managed to dance past the dwarf lines in quick succession.
Then the second half began, Flint cranked his chainsaw, and the payback began...
The dwarfs struck at the heart of their opponents with a surgical precision that would make even a Dark Elf assassin proud, with Flint chopping and booting his way through the elf lines until he was finally sent off for a blatant foul that utilized the assistance of no less than six other players!
By half way through the second half, most of the Hackers were languishing in the dug-out, either unconscious or badly hurt – but all of them quite thankful that they were still alive!
Once again, the cursed number 6 journeyman came off worse with a serious injury which ended his career for the Hackers, and all the while, the dwarfs inched slowly towards the end zone, eventually getting the ball over the line as the last of the spectators were donning their cloaks and heading for the exits.
As Bobart Fleetfoot looked up to the stands to celebrate his score, he realised that the Dwarf Warhammerers were the only people left in the stadium and that night had fallen.
Thursday 17 February 2011
Thursday 3 February 2011
Mortalis 3 - 2 Green Glade Hackers
The Hackers suffered their first defeat of the League today and its bitter sting chilled their hearts like the clouding of the sun on the gayest spring afternoon!
Alas! The leaves of Athel Loren wither from the drought of joy whilst the silver-singing rivers swell with the tears of the land!
Woe! The lark-song is silenced from the dawn as the carrion grow restless in the bows of the trees!
Weep, oh Brothers of the Oak and Sisters of the Willow! Weep, for this tale I scribe is the herald of our crashing doom!
Terror filled the hearts of the Wood Elves as the vile dead-things lurched onto the field yet, despite losing the toss, the elves were granted the first drive.
A touchdown came quickly, but it was a hard-fought victory, bought with the blood of the Hackers’ hired help. The team’s relatively novice apothecary shrugged as the journeyman was carried limply from the pitch.
Another touchdown followed, but this time for the undead, who managed to kill the Hackers’ part-time cheerleader, ‘Thoroughly Dubious’ Duran, maim Athelan the Wild and knock unconscious both Helfen Acorn-Doom and Twister Pine-Cone in the process of scoring.
With so few players still standing, Mortalis steamed ahead with a second touchdown, leaving the elves feeling, as Stormwind was to later put it, ‘rather gloomy’.
Half-time could not have come too soon...
As the second half began (foretelling the great calamity that was before them), the Hackers wondered why the recently-expired Duran could be seen in the Mortalis dug-out, chewing on the still-warm limbs of the departed journeyman.
The ball sailed down the pitch after the Hackers’ kick-off and the golden-haired Lady of Loren shone her light onto the elves, filling their hearts with merriment and joy, and they blitzed forward. Stormwind caught the ball before it even touched down and danced past the loping undead defence to score an equalizer.
The undead weren’t exactly quick to respond, but they were certainly relentless. They shambled through the elven defence, knocking them flat as they went. The only player not constantly planted face-first in the pitch was treeman ‘The Outrageous’ Girth, who did little during the match but get mummy-bandages tangled in his branches.
Despite their every effort to stop Mortalis, the Hackers simply couldn’t prevent them from scoring their third touchdown and, try as they might, they were certainly unable to obtain the much-needed equalizer before the referee’s whistle stopped the carnage.
I hope that I did touch you all with this tale of woe as I, in turn, did touch myself while writing it.
Weep now, weep!
Alas! The leaves of Athel Loren wither from the drought of joy whilst the silver-singing rivers swell with the tears of the land!
Woe! The lark-song is silenced from the dawn as the carrion grow restless in the bows of the trees!
Weep, oh Brothers of the Oak and Sisters of the Willow! Weep, for this tale I scribe is the herald of our crashing doom!
Terror filled the hearts of the Wood Elves as the vile dead-things lurched onto the field yet, despite losing the toss, the elves were granted the first drive.
A touchdown came quickly, but it was a hard-fought victory, bought with the blood of the Hackers’ hired help. The team’s relatively novice apothecary shrugged as the journeyman was carried limply from the pitch.
Another touchdown followed, but this time for the undead, who managed to kill the Hackers’ part-time cheerleader, ‘Thoroughly Dubious’ Duran, maim Athelan the Wild and knock unconscious both Helfen Acorn-Doom and Twister Pine-Cone in the process of scoring.
With so few players still standing, Mortalis steamed ahead with a second touchdown, leaving the elves feeling, as Stormwind was to later put it, ‘rather gloomy’.
Half-time could not have come too soon...
As the second half began (foretelling the great calamity that was before them), the Hackers wondered why the recently-expired Duran could be seen in the Mortalis dug-out, chewing on the still-warm limbs of the departed journeyman.
The ball sailed down the pitch after the Hackers’ kick-off and the golden-haired Lady of Loren shone her light onto the elves, filling their hearts with merriment and joy, and they blitzed forward. Stormwind caught the ball before it even touched down and danced past the loping undead defence to score an equalizer.
The undead weren’t exactly quick to respond, but they were certainly relentless. They shambled through the elven defence, knocking them flat as they went. The only player not constantly planted face-first in the pitch was treeman ‘The Outrageous’ Girth, who did little during the match but get mummy-bandages tangled in his branches.
Despite their every effort to stop Mortalis, the Hackers simply couldn’t prevent them from scoring their third touchdown and, try as they might, they were certainly unable to obtain the much-needed equalizer before the referee’s whistle stopped the carnage.
I hope that I did touch you all with this tale of woe as I, in turn, did touch myself while writing it.
Weep now, weep!
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