Blood Bowl: 'Ere We Go, vI

by maddokgrotsnik

The Orctown Oldboyz - and their reluctant dwarf coach, Edwyrd Kettlebelly - are headed to the Chaos Cup. They're not expecting to win, but they are looking forward to bashing a few heads. Little do they know just what they'll find themselves up against: an implacable new foe, and a terrifying threat to the Old World. It's time for a plucky underdog story.

21. Chapter 21

"Damien," Mister Nush said. "Damien, turn that off, son. I want to talk to you."

His son sat cross-legged in front of the Cabalvision box and did not respond.

Onscreen, the Athelorn Avengers appeared to be losing to the Darkside Cowboys.

Mister Nush reached for the remote and switched it off.

Damien turned around.

His eyes were silver, and shining, and nothing like his mother's. Or his father's, either, if it came to it.

"Hello, Dad," he said.

"Damien," Mister Nush snapped, "we've had enough of it. Enough, d'you hear?"

"Enough of what, Dad?"

"Enough of you sat in front of that blasted game, that's what. Your mother and I are both very worried about you - aren't we, Elsa?"

"Mmm?" Mrs Nush said, vaguely, from the kitchen.

"It's time you found yourself a proper hobby, my lad. Something healthy, something active. Whether it's tilling the fields or crawling dungeons, you're old enough to get out of the house and discover what you're really passionate about."

Damien watched him, head tilted to one side.

"Really passionate about?" he asked, softly.

Mister Nush stared deep into those extraordinary silver eyes - and felt his courage falter.

"Just...not in front of that box, son," he said. "We can make it your birthday present, if you like. Whatever you like. It's just not healthy for you to be cooped up like this."

Damien turned back towards the black void of the deactivated Cabalvision screen. He seemed to be considering.

"All right, Dad," he said. "Since you mention it...I think I'd like to see a match up close."

"A...Blood Bowl match?" Mister Nush asked, hopelessly.

"That's right," said Damien. "Out in the open air. Nice and healthy, Dad. It's the Chaos Cup soon, I believe."

"Right," said Mister Nush. Somehow, he felt, he'd rather lost control of this conversation. "Right. Of course. It's just that - son - those tickets are quite expensive. And you know, maybe you'd prefer a nice jousting tourney, or a pit fight-"

"The Chaos Cup," Damien said, and turned to face his father.

Those silver eyes, those strange silver eyes, could swallow the world.

"Yes," said Mister Nush, quite hypnotised. "All right, then. I'll see what I can do."

His son smiled.

"Thanks, Dad," he said. "You're the best."