Blood Bowl: Making the Team- The Rise of the Tierheim Tigers

by Nate Ball

Blood Bowl is an alternate Warhammer Fantasy setting and a combination of American football and Rugby. Within Blood Bowl, teams of many races compete in a brutal and humuorous to get fame, glory, and gold. For Tierheim, a small town in Averland who are ardent fans, a wealthy nobleman wants to build a team with grit, money, and humor. Welcome, to the Tierheim Tigers!

Blood Bowl: Making the Team

Chapter One

"What do you call an Averlander surrounded by fifty sheep? Pimp."

-Classic Reiklander Joke

Although most of the grasslands of central Averland were smooth, save for the rolling hills that dotted the landscape, the stagecoach sought out as many rocks and bumps along the road as possible. And although the driver and crossbowman were well travelled along the Dwarf Old Road, having ridden its length more times than they could remember, even they began to get a little sick and bruised. The driver could only imagine how his fancy passengers could have felt, even if they had cushions.

"Apologies for the ride, sirs," the driver called.

"Merely a massage for the lower back and hindquarters," replied the fanciest passenger.

Sebastian Ginter, clad in subtle niceties, acted similar to a small boy going on his first adventure. His smile was known to glow to an annoying level such that anyone around him was made to smile themselves sometimes out of hope that the sheer idiocy of joy would be contagious. Leon seemed disinterested in travel or the countryside. In his defense, though, he rarely expressed emotions outside of general boredom.

Leon turned his eyes towards a cow munching on the grass. She brought her head up as the wagon passed and made eye contact with the man whose close-cropped black hair was in stark contrast to his blonde haired companion. Both cow and man seemed to silently agree that ennui was the correct choice of reaction to each other. Sebastian spent most of the trip busying himself with various paperwork interrupted by minutes of studying the hills and farmlands that made up a good portion of Averland, despite the irritating swaying and lurching of the wagon. Satchels of various colors and sizes were strewn about the small cabin and although it looked as if there were no rhyme or reason to the order of things, Sebastian knew exactly what was in each one and where he could find every item of information he needed. It is true he didn't gain his wealth simply by being lucky, but through his heritage. However, thanks to his organizational skills and business acumen, what small fortune he did inherit grew into a thriving shipping business.

The afternoon sun made its way into the wagon from the west. Farms in the distance began to appear more frequently, and soon the road began to smooth on the approach to Tierheim, the new home of Sebastian and Leon. Situated between Grenzstadt to the southeast and Heideck to the northwest, Tierheim had seen an early rush of prosperity but had steadily declined when the demand for cattle manure in the Empire market plummeted combined with losing the rights to mining to the town of Heideck.

Making their way slowly through the outskirts of town, although many travelers would seriously debate that designation and would prefer the term "village", Sebastian pointed out the dilapidated resemblance to a Blood Bowl pitch at the top of one of the mediocre hills in what was surely a point of depression for the local populace. "There, Leon. A beauty!"

Leon stoically moved his head and cocked it to one side, unsure if Sebastian was pointing to the leaning, wooden tower overlooking the field, as if it was so embarrassed at the state of the pitch, it was trying to make a retreat from being associated with it.

The wagon trudged along at the pace of another wagon in front of them. Tierheim may have seen better days, but it still was a resting stop for some who were travelling to purchase the famed Grenzstadter wines at market, or setting out on any adventure in the Black Mountains. Sebastian had a cheeky grin the entire way through town, nodding at any person who happened to look into the back of the stagecoach. Leon did neither of those things.

There were many buildings in Tierheim, most of them abandoned, but surprisingly, they were not in awful shape. In fact. Tierheim did not seem to suffer the fate of towns with dwindling populations, as the townsfolk seemed to keep the streets clear, and the trash from becoming an eyesore. Although the town seemed sparse with people, several places had a few horses tied up in front of them with an intermittent parked wagon or cart to break up the monotony. Outside the errant blacksmith or general stores, most of the structures were either boarded up or were simple dwellings. Coming to the town square, a lone statue to Nuffle was the prominent focal point of the roundabout. Since no one in the Old World knew what Nuffle looked like, most statues were of the famous spiked ball or a generic Blood Bowl player. Tierheim seemed to have decided on a clenched fist wearing a gauntlet of spikes. Sebastian positively beamed. Leon did not.

The two men passed Tierheim proper smoothly at a slow pace since there wasn't much to see outside of the statue and the regular small town fare. Making their way farther southeast, the coach pulled off to the left going up a slight incline towards a newly built mansion. There were palaces around the Empire larger than the town, and even villas of some of the more prosperous stars in Blood Bowl could claim to be larger in area, but to Tierheim, a three bedroom home was a mansion. The smell of freshly churned dirt and cut wood slinked its way into the wagon. Sebastian and Leon inhaled it in. Sebastian closed his eyes while drawing in a large whiff. "Leon, don't you just love the smell construction makes?"

Leon shrugged. Sebastian opened his eyes, keeping his smile. "Of course you do, my friend. You never shut up about it."

Once the stagecoach stopped in front of the front staircase, Sebastian stepped out carrying several of his satchels. The driver and crossbowman came around to help unload the luggage. They both walked to the rear where a makeshift platform carried an enormous, yet secured, chest. The driver and crossbowman hadn't initially secured the luggage, as the servant with the listless expression had done so at the beginning of the journey. The coachmen both tried to move the chest only rocking it slightly. They began to get a shovel on the side of the wagon to use as a lever but Sebastian stopped him with a hand holding one of the satchels. "Thank you, my good men, but Leon here will take the rest."

The driver sent a questioning look to Leon, the small, lithe man walking around to the back of the wagon. "Are you sure, sir? It wouldn't be any trouble for me to lend a hand," the driver said.

Sebastian chuckled. "I won't hear of it, sir. You have more travel ahead of you and my man, Leon, is perfectly suited to the task, excited even, although you wouldn't know it to look at him."

Leon shrugged when the two men turned to him. Sebastian said, "I believe the other half of your payment is due to the both of you?"

"Aye, sir, it is," said the crossbowman, who ran security for the journey.

The driver stuck out his hand to receive the golden griffons noticing there were a couple more coins than earlier agreed upon. "Are you sure you won't be needing any help with that-"

Leon stood hunched with the trunk on his back. "Well, I guess not," said the crossbowman.

"You gentlemen have a safe journey wherever you're headed. It was a most pleasant and serene journey through Averland."

The driver and crossbowman smiled as they had never had anyone speak to them in the manner that this man- and nobleman to boot- spoke to them. "Sir, the pleasure was ours and if you need anything transporting, we'll be more than happy to be your men."

"Excellent! I may do just that as I have a lot of projects planned for the future. Please check in with me whenever you make your way back to Tierheim."

"Yessir! Will do, sir," said the crossbowman.

"Thank you, sir," said the driver. "Uh, rumor has it that you're here to change this town a bit."

"Aren't rumors grand? How could we ever live a life without the excitement? True or not, is the question, or at least, what shades of truth color our rumors? Although, in this particular case, the rumor is correct. I hope it's for the better, of course."

The crossbowman looked back towards Tierheim, "I think any change would be better."

"Let's hope the next time you pass through you will be highly impressed men." Sebastian shook their hands and turned to his stoic servant, "Leon, it's time to go now, we mustn't dilly-dally."

Sebastian and Leon walked up to the rather large door, Sebastian opening it for Leon who didn't show the slightest discomfort walking through with their luggage on his back.

The driver and crossbowman counted out their coins between them. "What a queer man," said the driver.

"I'd rather take a nice weirdo than a shanking idjit any day, Hans," said the bodyguard.

Hans the driver pulled himself up into his seat. "Well, Jans, I hope this town doesn't eat him and spit him out, is all. Rare you see a nobleman who isn't full of shank."

They snapped the reins, pulled back to Old Dwarf Road, and rolled away, leaving Sebastian and Leon to settle into their new home.

Chapter Two

"When travelling the Old Dwarf Road, try to not blink as much as possible. There are some quaint villages like Tieghern you very well could miss."

-Frau Geldman's Seeing Averland, page 2

The morning sun rose to softly illuminate the inside of Sebastian's bedroom through the windows that took up most of the eastern wall. By the time the light creeped over the bed, however, the nobleman was already straightening his spectacles and making the first major decision of many for the day. "Leon, I believe I need your help on a matter of major importance."

Leon moved quickly to Sebastian and waited. The nobleman turned around holding up clothing in each hand. "Should I wear the blue tunic or the yellow? The blue really shows I am trustworthy, reliable and full of commitment; qualities I immediately need to inspire. Although, the yellow denotes an active and creative mind at work. Two positions I am clearly in favor of."

Leon grabbed the tunics from Sebastian and shrugged. "You're right," Sebastian said, "the blue is the clear choice."

Having donned his clothing and checking Leon's craftsmanship on the close shave he had just received, Sebastian moved on to breakfast. Hilde, a cook he brought from Averheim, had prepared a full meal of sliced sausages, eggs over medium, and a hearty mixture of beans and turnips. Within minutes, papers were strewn around his plate as he carefully ate what was laid in front of him. The large cook came in with a tray of freshly cut apples. Her apron was a bit messy, but her brown hair was pulled tightly into a bun and her dress was immaculate.

"Anything else, my lord," she asked.

"Oh, Hilda, your food is sweet ambrosia," Sebastian said dabbing at his chin, "and anything else would simply make me burst. Thank you so very much for this wonderful meal."

"Thank you, my lord," she said as she bowed.

"Hilda, please, you know I am not a lord and certainly not someone you should worry enough to bow."

"I'm, uh, sorry, sir, I'm still used to serving your father. What should I call you?"

"Keep making food like this and you will never have to call me late for dinner!"

"Oh, sir," she said, turning to leave.

Sebastian stood up to look out of the eastern windows with his plate of apples in hand. "Leon, we have much to do today. And soon, I perceive the mayor should be knocking shortly."

Leon appeared to his side and nodded. Sebastian clapped his hands. "First order of business, Leon- how do I look?"

The servant flipped down Sebastian's collar and removed the bib that he wore. Sebastian gestured his thanks and handed the now empty plate to Leon. As he did so, the doorman came to the dining room and announced, "My lord, Mayor Junger is here to see you."

"Excellent," said Sebastian, "I will meet him at the door."

Standing at the entrance, Mayor Junger was a rather short, stocky man with a full, white beard. He wore a simple, yellow tunic with a short, black cape, and black boots up to his knees, looking to Sebastian as every inch of a former Blood Bowl player as his dossier had informed him. "Mayor Junger, what a pleasant surprise! Leon, your idea of wearing the blue tunic was spot on."

"Lord Ginter," the man nodded, "I am here to welcome you to Tierheim. Not sure this was much of a surprise as we agreed to meet at this time."

"An improper choice of word, I'll grant you, however I will still say this is pleasant and will stand by that selection with all my heart." The two shook hands, and although Sebastian was a head taller than Junger, the man's strength was quite formidable. "I must say, I enjoyed every letter written between the two of us, Mayor Junger. Averland has always been a beautiful country but Tierheim really does take the cake, as they say."

The mayor's eyes squinted back at the nobleman. "As you say, my lord. Are you ready to visit the town hall?"

"But of course, my good man. Leon, here will join us, if that's agreeable with you. He simply wouldn't know what to do with himself if I went gallivanting around town without him."

The mayor stared at Leon who did not avert his gaze. Both men shrugged. The mayor said, "That's fine with me."

A young boy dressed in simple, riding clothes galloped slowly towards the men. His mule, seemingly untired from the travel, brayed as they approached. "One moment, Mayor Junger," said Sebastian, "I believe I need to speak with my friend, Robin."

The mayor watched the nobleman speak with the boy who still sat on his mule. The animal tried to surreptitiously nibble on the end of Sebastian's blue tunic, causing the man to swat away its muzzle. When the conversation ended, the boy offered his hand, palm up. Sebastian placed several coins in the hand. The boy tipped his hat to Sebastian and sped off towards the direction he had originally come.

Sebastian walked to the mayor. "Leon, if I could be so bold as to ask you to entertain the mayor while I retrieve something I had forgotten for our trip, I would be forever in your debt."

Several minutes passed with neither man speaking, but they eyed each other up. Squinting, nodding, nonverbal prodding through staring took place ending in a respectful grunt towards one another.

Sebastian came down the stairs handing what looked like a rectangular bottle to Leon, who placed it in his satchel without question. Sebastian smiled at both of them. "I take it I interrupted some riveting conversation, and for that I apologize. Let's commence, shall we?"

The three marched down the short stairs to a waiting coach. "I have to say, and no offense given," said the mayor as they climbed in, "I am still a little confused as to why someone of your stature is here in Tierheim."

The three men climbed in, the Mayor taking one side while Sebastian and Leon occupied the other.

"You mean someone of my money," said Sebastian smiling.

"No offense," said Junger.

"None taken," said Sebastian. "I would much prefer someone speak with a bit of honesty. But I see your concern, Mayor. I am also sure that no matter my finances, talk with you is always cheap, and actions far display a man's mettle. However, I believe it still must be said that I in no way wish to bully my position in ways that would be a detriment to your fine town."

The mayor looked out the window and nodded. "You are right, sir. Talk is cheap because any man can afford it."

"Precisely. Which is why my first order of business is just that. I wish to purchase the largest building currently unoccupied."

Mayor Junger's head snapped out of reverie and he squinted at Sebastian looking for an angle. "May I ask why?"

Sebastian lifted his chin a little high. "Of course, you can, Mayor. I would always wish you to question my motives and judgement. You see, I moved here specifically for three reasons. First, the countryside is beautiful here and the land is rather cheap- no offense-"

"- none taken-"

"- and so my money will go further here than anywhere else. Secondly, I am a businessman and there is a lot of untapped potential in this town- trade, commerce, and other ventures including Tierheim becoming a destination for unique foods, and lastly- Blood Bowl."

"Blood Bowl?" said Mayor Junger.

"That brings us to my third reason- I've always wanted to own a Blood Bowl team, and I think Tierheim has just what I'm looking for to make that happen."

Mayor Junger scooted forward so that his knees touched Sebastian's. "What makes you think Tierheim is the place for a Blood Bowl team?"

"We have a prime location here in Tierheim. It's on the Old Dwarf Road-"

"-with few travelers save for tradesmen-"

"-a Blood Bowl pitch already built-"

"-and falling down-"

"-and you have a lot of untapped talent, not just here but in all of Averland-"

"-none who have never played professionally-"

"-and I hear your town puts games together for the simple love of the game."

"-only because fistfights are for wimps. What makes you think that as an outsider you can

put together a team who only plays Sevens? We don't have enough to field what the other teams do. Besides, you showed me what the County is planning on doing with us, if we fail at this."

"Mayor Junger, I fully understand the obstacles I am up against. I may be an outsider to Tierheim but I am an Averland boy through and through. Playing Sevens is a good warm-up to playing as a proper team. I also assume you've heard the NAF recently capped a team's roster to sixteen? That means we only need to find four more to fill it out. Provided, of course, there are fourteen men who are willing to play for Tierheim."

The mayor chuckled and leaned back, crossing his arms. "Heh. And so you want to start with buying the largest building in town. How's that for your master plan?"

"Simple. Just as horses need a stable, players need a barracks. They will have to train, of course."

"You do realize, sir, this is a poor town. Actually, I am sure you know that. You seem to know a lot about us already. But poor towns have poor people. No one can afford to give up their livelihood to be a professional player. And you don't have the money to make that happen. I don't want you, sir, to come into my town and start filling everyone here with dreams of grandeur and then you skip town when you can't pay the bills." The mayor looked out the window as they bumped along. "No offense, sir," the mayor added.

"None taken. You bring up very good points. It's true I have a substantial amount of money but I didn't get that way by being stupid. To fund a team with no source of income would be a money pit, especially on a group of untested players. Let's refer to my second point- about trade and commerce. I will only be using a certain amount of money to fund this project. If it fails, fine. I will still live here on and off, pay my taxes, and leave Tierheim none for the worse. The town will fund everything else."

"Sir, I don't believe you are stupid. But you are still young and young people can be blinded by the brightness of their energy and dreams."

"Very true. Which is why I am thankful for your guidance," said Sebastian.

"My guidance?" said Mayor Junger.

The wagon stopped at the entrance of the town hall, or rather a one story ranch house with the Averland flag hanging from a pole just off to the left side of the building. "Ah," said Sebastian, "here we are. May we look at the open permits available for purchase?"

The mayor got out of the carriage and swung his arm out in a wide gesture. "Be my guest. I still would appreciate what was meant by 'guidance'."

"I believe, Mayor, that Blood Bowl runs through your veins and you couldn't pass up an opportunity to guide the owner of a Tierheim team."

"How do you know I care that much about Blood Bowl, anyways?"

"Why, Mayor Junger, you haven't stopped talking about it since I brought it up."

Chapter 3

"Most Blood Bowl teams travel to play games, so it is very important to have a reliable mode of transportation. For teams that can't afford caravans, it is very important to have a reliable set of legs."

-D.D. Griswell, Jr, Owner of the Reikland Reavers

By the time Sebastian, Leon, Mayor Junger, and the notary finished their business: signing titles, pouring over real estate and property lines, and signing several contracts, the afternoon sun was in the process of morphing into the setting sun. The parchments needed by Sebastian were placed in a satchel carried by Leon, packed in with other documents used as references for the day's business. "Mayor Junger, I thank you for your help in these matters but I was wondering if you could do me another favor?"

"What did you have in mind?" The mayor put on a broad, black hat blocking the remaining sunlight from his eyes.

"A good place to eat; I am famished."

The mayor scratched his beard absentmindedly. "We only really have one good place to eat but I'm afraid it's not the place for you right now."

"Interesting. Why is that, exactly?"

"You may be from Averland, but you're not from Tierheim, and let's be honest- your outfit is a bit too dandy for the people of this town. I can have the missus make you something nice if you'd like. Or maybe you take in dinner from your own house. Your cook seemed to know what he was doing."

"She."

"What's that?"

"She- her name is Hilde."

"Fine."

All three stood on the side of the street and watched as several orcs on boars made their way north up the road. Behind them was another orc driving a wagon that looked as though a teenaged simpleton banged pieces of wood together until they surrendered and fit into place.

Sebastian stretched a bit as they passed. "I think I will go with my gut, literally, and eat in the finest tavern in Tierheim."

"The only tavern," said the Mayor.

"Thus making it the finest."

The mayor chuckled. "And worst, by that reasoning. Suit yourself. Would you like to take the carriage?"

"I would think I would like to walk. My legs are jealous of all the work my hands have gotten up to. Care to join me? My treat, of course."

Mayor Junger stood for a few seconds eyeing Sebastian and Leon. "You know what? Sure. Eventually, everyone has to meet you and what better way than to do it while everyone's drinking? The walk could give us time to stretch a bit, and the building you purchased is on the way."

"I was thinking the same- great minds and how similar they think, am I correct? Come along, Leon. Let's get something to eat." Leon grunted as if to say he had no other plans and trudged behind the mayor and the nobleman.

The three walked north towards the hill topped by the toppling pitch but from this distance, only the depressed press box could be seen. "What's the name of the tavern, Mayor?"

"This month? It's The Vulgar Tankard."

Sebastian scrunched his face, his spectacles riding down his nose slightly so that he had to readjust. "'This month?'"

"I'm exaggerating a bit, sir. There have been a lot of owners in the past. Before that it was Something Dragon, and before that was Green Something or other, but I am pretty sure it's 'The Vulgar Tankard' now. The owner, Garth Hairyfists, has been running it for a few months now, which is surprising."

"Why is that?"

"Being the only tavern in town means everyone comes in. Tradesmen, locals, drifters… so there's a lot of demand and a lot of broken furniture and noses. A huge headache to run a place like that."

"I thought fistfights were for wimps," said Sebastian.

"Well, not many want to challenge our crew to Sevens, so we make do."

"'We make do?' Surely, you don't partake in the shenanigans while an actor of public office?"

The mayor laughed for the first time since they met. "Sir, they call it the Vulgar Tankard because after a tankard of Hairyfists' ale, you start to get quite vulgar."

"Indeed," said Sebastian, smiling. "How refreshing."

"Up here on the right, that's your new building," said the mayor.

Sebastian looked to the only two story building on the main road. The windows were boarded and the door was slightly ajar but covered the entrance entirely as long as no one leaned up against it. He nodded to Leon who seemed as interested as a cow hearing about Blood Bowl rules.

"Did you want to look inside, sir?"

Sebastian lifted his chin slightly. "No need, Mayor, we can save that for another day."

"Suit yourself," said the mayor. They walked up the side of the road allowing a wagon laden with bales of hay to make its way past going south.

The Vulgar Tankard had a painted wooden sign swinging from a metal pole sticking out from the roof. The picture had a tankard with a laughing face on it drinking a beer, the foam spilling from the beer and the top of the tankard. Up a little farther were the stables and posts where horses were reined. A sign with a painted horse and arrow pointing to the stables was attached to a vertical post just in front. A small boy rubbed one horse down staring at the boars across the road who were tied to the Orcish wagon that had passed the three men earlier. A sign with a boar and an arrow pointing to the lot where the orc wagon was on the end of a vertical post just in front.

The structure itself was a one story building but what it lacked for in height was made up for in width. On the other side of the stables was a well-worn path leading up to the hill with the rundown Blood Bowl pitch on it. "Here we are," said Mayor Junger.

The smells coming out were strong and hearty, most likely from the beef that was cooking from the back and the strong, pungent smell of brewing from somewhere inside. "Leon," Sebastian said, "Let's eat."

Chapter 4

"No one works harder than a Halfling Chef. Except a Master Halfling Chef. Kicking and berating all of the other chefs into doing things the right way."

-Puggy Baconbreath

Garth Hairyfists moved around the kitchen with the grace of a well-practiced Halfling chef. This meant, of course, he pushed through or under anyone in his way. Because his cooking was reliably edible and he paid his employees on time, the staff became accustomed to the way in which he ran his establishment without comment. By staff, of course, this meant one other cook, a runner, a bartender, and two servers. Employing five people, this meant the Vulgar Tankard was one of the largest employers of Tierheim outside of farming or carpentry.

"Is the stew boiling, Reuger?"

The young man answered, "To your standards, chef."

"Good, good. How is the porridge coming?" Garth lifted a wooden spoon to his lips from the massive pot, the overflow dripping into the rest, making a wet slapping sound. "Put some cinnamon in it, but not too much, Reuger. Cinnamon is expensive and we aren't due for another shipment for another week."

"Yes, chef," said Reuger. The young man wiped his brow with his sleeve and reached for the cinnamon. "Uh, we're out, chef."

"Salt, then."

"Yes, chef."

Garth stepped off of the foot bench that ran the length of the kitchen for easier access to counters due to his height. Most Halfling kitchens were lowered but Garth had to make do since he didn't build the kitchen to his parameters. Reuger had to stoop slightly to cover the distance from the stove and tables the bench created, but he was a good lad and worked harder than Garth had seen most humans, especially someone so young.

The runner, a young boy of about eight or nine came up to Garth. When he stopped, his brown mop of hair came forward into his eyes. "Spoons are polished, chef."

"Well done, Michael. Tie your hair back, you'll find it's easier for you to see without something in front of them. Now go check on the pigs out back. Make sure they're not overdone. And dump this bucket into the pens."

"Yes, chef."

Garth watched Michael tie his hair with an old ribbon and grab the bucket of useless scraps to feed the live pigs out back. The Halfling chef moved to the front of the house behind the bar. There were eight Orcs around Garth's largest table eating bread, but he knew that wouldn't last long, so it was important the cooked pigs were ready. He climbed onto the stepped bench so the bar top could reach his navel. Lothar, his bearded bartender, was filling several ales from the tankard while Mila and Gerta were darting around the tables passing out the beer.

Garth knew taking on this tavern would be tough, financially and logistically, but once he straightened out the staff, it had made business more manageable. Other than the Orcs, the floor was starting to fill with the regulars. He was about to turn around when he saw Mayor Junger enter, which wasn't unusual, but what was odd were the two men behind him. One was clearly a nobleman by his dress. Spectacles sat on his face, and the man had a closely shaved face with a nice, tight crop of blonde hair. The man trailing him was a servant of sorts, with a black goatee, and Garth watched the man's eyes glance quickly around almost as if he was casing the joint while somehow still maintaining a bored look on his face.

Garth hopped down and walked around the bar to greet the men. "Gentlemen. And Mayor Junger!"

"Garth," said Mayor Junger. "We would like a table. This is Count Ginter and Leon."

"A pleasure, my lord," said Garth, bowing, roughly cutting his already diminutive height in half..

"Please, Mr. Hairyfists. The pleasure is all mine," said Sebastian.

Garth started for a second but as a consummate host, he quickly gained his composure. "This way, sirs… and Mayor."

The Halfling led them to the second largest table across the way from where the Orcs were eating. On the way, Garth patted Mila's knee as she passed by. Since the server was taller, and even a bit taller for a woman, he had to reach at his shoulder level to do it. She turned and nodded and set down some plates of porridge for a couple of farm hands before coming to the table.

"Mila, please get the gentlemen and Mayor Junger three tankards please."

"Sure thing, Garth," she said, looking at each of them with a smile and spun around to get the order.

"So, Lord Ginter," Garth began, "what business have you in Tierheim?"

The nobleman chuckled. It was the kind of chuckle more out of general humor than nervousness which meant his motives may not be all too sinister, as many had believed through the scuttlebutt. One thing besides his cooking that Garth took pride in was his ability to read people. "Well, Mr. Hairyfists-"

"Please, sir, call me 'Garth'."

"-Garth, yes. I am not opening anything that would compete with you directly."

"What's that?"

"Garth, you are the only tavern in town which means you have all of the supply. Naturally, the demand comes entirely to the Vulgar Tankard. I have business here that I wish to pursue, but nothing that would compete with you, directly."

"Well, uh. Well, that's good to hear," the chef said. "I didn't mean any offense, sir."

"None taken. Ah! Here's the ale."

Mila set the tankards down in front of each man. She had short, cropped dirty blonde hair and flicked it out her way with a jerk of her head. "What may I get you gentlemen?"

Mayor Junger said, "Stew with a roll."

Sebastian looked at Garth then back at Mila. "Surprise me."

Mila spun on her heel and went back to the kitchen.

Garth said, "I noticed, my lord, you used the term 'directly."

Sebastian tilted his head to the side. "Quite perceptive, sir. I am sure all sorts of rumors preceded my visit, as scuttlebutt is the fastest mode of travel, and I am sure some had to do with business ventures."

"That's one way of putting it, sir."

"Well, let's just say that should any commerce be introduced in this town, it will be used to not only help all of Tierheim, but you as well. You have my word on that, my good chef."

The Halfing paused. "There have been rumors, my lord. You are correct in that. I've worked hard to keep this place going, so understand that I am concerned for myself and my tavern. However, your word will be fine, sir."

"It won't though," said Sebastian, taking a pull from his mug.

"My lord?"

"Mr. Hairyfists, my word means the world to me but the only way you can know that is for my actions to back them up. My actions will back them up, however, until they do, I hope 'my word' can be the temporary placeholder that will help assuage any concerns you may have."

"I thank you for that, my lord," said Garth as a dropped glass shattered behind the bar, bringing a smattering of applause. "Gentlemen. Mayor Junger. The kitchen beckons."

Garth tried not to pick up his pace too much and seem giddy but he needed to make sure Lord Ginter was impressed. Then maybe some of that money might be persuaded to leave his hands and go into some renovations Garth had in mind. And besides, Garth kind of liked him, despite the nobility.

After half an hour, Garth decided he didn't like him at all. The first time his food was sent back, he made sure the beef was cooked a little more. The second time he made sure the porridge was lumpier. The third and fourth time, he used two other sauces on the pork. But this? This would not stand. Garth couldn't tell if he was being put on or if this nobleman was as picky as he claimed. On top of everything, the tavern had gotten quite a few more locals than normal, as if everyone got paid on the same day, and the Orcs were starting a ruckus. Mila and Gerta were running ragged between the orcs and their incessant drinking, the number of customers increasing, and the dandy nobleman whining about his food.

Reuger was dishing out as much porridge and stew as he could. The bread was close to running out but luckily, the Orcs were fed. The good news was that the two cooked pigs were used. The bad news was the exact same reason. Pork was now off the menu and they had to solely rely on beef stew and beef steaks. The only other good news was that the money would be good to count at the end of the night. If running out of the pigs was the worst thing that could happen, then he would take it.

Chapter 5

"Booze goes great with all things! Food! Fighting! Blood Bowl! Politics!"

-Mad Jack McDead, Coach of the Vynheim Valkyries, on why his team is drunk before, during, and after the game

Mila had just placed the last of the tankards down for the fifth round for the Orcs. It wasn't profiling Orcs as rude, uncouth, and obnoxious, it's just that in her experience, they were all rude, uncouth, and obnoxious. Their only redeeming quality in a setting like this was they never tried to grope you or make them give you a kiss.

Mila moved to the back of the bar to fill up a couple of more tankards for another of her tables when a patron at the bar yelled, "I'm not paying that!"

Lothar slammed his hand down on the bar. "Yes you are, Kurt!"

"Shank you, fatty!" The man bolted for the door.

"Get back here," yelled Lothar. He tried to move around the bar but was nudged by Mila who was already after Kurt. She was probably one half the size of the customer, but that meant she didn't have his bulk to dodge through people- and dodge, she did. She spun around one table and vaulted herself off the largest table in the room, surrounded by Orcs no less, kicking over a tankard of a surprised Orc. Just before Kurt reached the door, Mila leapt onto his back and twisted, using her momentum to tackle him to the ground, until he was face first on the floor with her knees in his back. Before he could reorient himself, she grabbed his right arm and pinned it so that his only option was to allow her to break it.

"Get off of me!"

"Pay the tab, shankface!" she said.

Lothar huffed as he pushed his way through the patrons that got up from the chairs to get a closer look. He rifled through the man's pouch, finding nothing. Mila laughed. "About time you showed up."

Lothar guffawed. "Not all of us are little twigs, Mila. Kurt, you moron. If you didn't have the money, you know we could have just made a tab. Now you got Mila all riled up."

Kurt coughed. "I still wouldn't have it then, Lothar. I just wanted a drink- or five."

The man reached to his belt looking for something. "Here, take this."

"That's your father's watch, Kurt. We're not taking that. Now, don't be a shankface and come back when you have the money. We know where you live anyways."

Garth came over. "Kurt- we can have you work off your debt. No problem. Now go home- we'll see you tomorrow.

Without a word, the man straightened his body, brushed himself off, and left. Once gone, there was a smattering of clapping from the crowd and a few huzzahs for Mila.

"Oy! My ale's been smashed!"

Everyone turned to look at the Orcs who were all standing, the loud one drenched in what was remaining of his beer. "Gimme another one, wench."

Mila's face became red. Not from embarrassment, but from sheer anger fueled by her adrenaline. Lothar put a hand up to her. "I have this, Mila. You sir, will get a free beer. On the house!"

A couple of the Orcs seemed to find this gesture appeasing enough but several others started laughing at their drenched compatriot. One pointed and said, "It's already on 'im."

The angry Orc became infuriated. "Another ale for all of us or things get nasty," he replied.

The crowd quieted, waiting for the next response. Lothar walked up and said, "No trouble at all, friend. We'll get you one for each of your mates."

"Not him," the Orc said, pointing to the Orc who was rude enough to make a joke at his expense in front of weak humans.

"Very well, right away. Let's get to work, Mila," said Lothar moving to the bar.

Mila began to move towards the bar until one of the Orcs said, "Wiry, little lap dog, that one."

Mila marched right up to him, his jaw a full head higher than the top of her hair. Before anything could happen, Garth stood up on top of the bar. "How about we all shut our mouths and drink and be merry? A round for everyone."

"Not him," said the Orc who was initially insulted by wearing his beverage, pointing to his comedian brethren.

"Oy, you can shank off," he said. "Little guy, bring me one too."

"No problem," said Garth. "One for everyone!"

Cheers erupted around the bar but the wet Orc walked up to Garth. Both now stood face to face with the help of the height of the bar. "May I help you," asked Garth, not backing down from his stare.

"Name's Grabba."

"Mine is Garth."

There was a pause and the Orc said, "You never 'eard of Grabba, throwa for Da Black Fire Bruisers?"

"I have not," replied Garth.

"You're going to give no one but me and my mates- not Hork- an ale. And throw in some beef too."

"Last I checked, Grabba of the Black Fire Bruisers, you don't run this place, I do."

This caused Grabba to laugh. "What if I said I run this shankhole now?"

"I don't think my friends would stand for it," he said.

Sebastian kept a smile on his face, looking at the situation in what Mayor Junger took as a calculated gesture. The nobleman, without taking his eyes off of the situation, asked, "Mayor Junger, Tierheim has a fairly decent Sevens squad."

"True. Not bad, but still rough," said Mayor Junger.

"Hmmm," replied Sebastian. "This will be interesting."

The tavern watched as Grabba grabbed Garth and the chef grabbed him back. Leon stood up in a position to catch a thrown Halfling while looking perturbed that he had to leave his seat.

Before the crowd began to move in on the Orcs, who were ready to have a go with whomever came to them, Garth shouted, "Stop! Do not destroy my place!"

The crowd stopped. The sound of a low, almost metallic clinking began to permeate the atmosphere. The Orcs cocked their heads to Sebastian. The nobleman had a large, rectangular bottle, using a spoon to create a rhythmic clanking sound. Sebastian stood up and walked to Grabba. "There's a saying here in Tierheim. 'Fistfights are for wimps.'"

"Izzat so?" asked another Orc, the largest of all of them. His dark green skin almost absorbed the light from the torches inside the room.

"It is." Sebastian stood slowly and walked to Grabba, stopping in front of the group of players. "Fighting in a tavern over simple offensives is so cliché, don't you think, Grabba? I mean, it's so common in so many stories, epics, and poems, it ought to have its own genre. And a boring one at that. I, myself, do not like to think I am a man so common, and I have heard the Bruisers are not some common team. I hope that's right."

"It is," said Grabba as he let go of Garth. "How you wanna settle this then?"

"A settlement! Perfection! Well, my good Grabba, I propose an event far more entertaining than a knuckleduster at a bar."

Grabba stared at the bottle in the nobleman's hand. "Where'd you get that?"

Sebastian smiled, "I am a man of means, my friend. Which means at times when I can get my hands on rare refreshments, such as Black Fire Fireball Whiskey, I just feel an overwhelming urge to snatch them up. Now, my new friends, grab a mug and let's talk about my proposal."

The Orcs scrambled to get a mug and stood in a semi-circle around Sebastian. Sebastian explained as he poured a thick, brown liquid into each of their mugs. "What I propose is simple. We have a match tomorrow morning before you leave for whatever match is next. Sevens, though, of course. You will pit seven of yours versus seven of ours, and thus we will discuss our differences in a violent and civil manner."

As the Orcs drank the viscous whiskey, they seemed to physically relax and become more amenable almost immediately. Garth walked next to Sebastian. "The Black Fire Bruisers, hunh?"

Grabba smiled and said, "That's right."

"Are you lot any good?" asked Mila.

"Very," said Hork. "Just came back from smacking around da Grenzstadt Brewers. On our way to do da same to da Streissen Rebels in Nuln. We got a invite to da SEXC."

Mayor Junger stepped forward. "The Stirland Explosion Cup. The Grenzstadt Brewers are a bunch of sots, Grabba. I wouldn't brag about beating them. How did you lot get an invite there?"

Grabba marched to the mayor and eyed him down. "You look important. You get punched first."

"Not likely, chum. I'm too old for bar fights and Blood Bowl matches. But I am one treacherous son of a witch elf."

Grabba smiled and finished off his drink. "We'll kill you on da pitch. What's innit for us?"

Sebastian shook the remaining contents of the bottle. "How about a good workout before you face the Streissen Rebels? They have a rookie the Reikland Reavers are interested in drafting. Is it not true that the Bruisers salivate at the chance to dismantle every team they play? Why, if I had your ability, Grabba, I would be chomping at the bit to have a go at a ragtag team of Humans barely able to hobble together a full team. Sevens is a bit different than the regular game, mind you, but it would be positively thrilling. How about it, Grabba? We'll meet at the pitch at the top of the hill, and you can prove to this town that the Bruisers reign supreme."

"Or we beat the shank out of you now?" said Hork.

"Ah," said Sebastian, "then how will you get the purse for winning?"

"What purse," asked Grabba.

"One thousand gold griffons to the winner," Sebastian said. Grabba looked Sebastian up and down. Mayor Junger looked Sebastian up and down. "And Garth will provide you with provisions for your travels. Oh! Let's not forget the rest of this amazing Fireball Whiskey as well."

"Izzat true, little Halfling?"

Garth looked at Sebastian, who nodded. The Halfling crossed his arms. "Fine."

"Well, Human," Grabba said to Sebastian, "You'll all be a nice app'tizer before the Averland Knights."

"When the bell rings ten times," the mayor said with disdain.

"Fine," said Grabba. "The team'll be here as well. Boyz, time for sleep. Not that we'll need a lot."

The Orcs pushed back a few of the people and left, but not before they downed what was left of their ale. Mayor Junger turned to look at Garth, who nodded. He then looked at Mila. She smiled. Leon shrugged. Then he looked back at Sebastian.

Sebastian asked, "Are they good?"

The Mayor shook his head in the affirmative. "Then why are you smiling?" asked Sebastian.

"Because we're better. By the way," said the mayor pointing at the bottle, "how did you know to bring that whiskey?"

Sebastian shrugged. "Oh, this? Let's just say a little birdie told me."

Chapter 6

"Stadiums are continuously being found across the Old and New World. Some could have doubled for palatial compounds. Others, for garbage landfills."

-Montezuma Smith, Archeologist

The sun had just barely peaked over the horizon, casting the Blood Bowl pitch in a strange setting, the elongated shadows like darkened fingers slowly crawling across the field. The sad press box on top took the center of an equally sad set of stands about four benches high. Two dilapidated wooden walls still stood sentry at either end zone. The field itself wasn't overgrown terribly, but there were a multitude of grass clumps dotted throughout the dirt and pebble-strewn pitch. Sebastian hadn't seen it this close before and he gazed at the flagpole sans flag at the northwest end of the field. Sebastian had finished pacing out the length from one end zone to the other while Frank Oberst finished walking the width. "Shorter than regular but not by too much," the foreman said.

"Same here," said Sebastian. "If we're to make this a proper field, we need to lengthen and widen it."

Frank scrunched his face at the leaning press box and wilting stands. "That could be the least of our problems, Count Ginter."

Sebastian followed his gaze. "Well, maybe you're right. But the wall here at this endzone looks solid enough."

Frank walked over and kicked the wall. A long groan stretched into a whine as the three foot wall began to fall at one end carrying the rest down in an unceremonious thump. "Maybe fifty years ago."

"Well," Sebastian began, "at least I brought the best engineer I know."

"Bought, you mean."

"Brought… bought… semantics. Leon, did you take the measurements?"

Leon looked up from the board he was writing on with a look that begged not to be challenged again. "Well done, Leon," said the Count. "Now, Frank, what do you think you will need?"

"Men. Lots of them. Timber. Lots of it. Steel. Quite a bit of that. Maybe some iron as well. Wouldn't mind having some horses or oxen. The good news is that I have the tools. And I have the vision."

Sebastian looked over to Leon. Leon looked up from his board and nodded. Looking back to Frank, Sebastian said, "How many men?"

"Well, hard to say. I have a dozen on my crew. Several hundred more wouldn't hurt but I have to have at least another dozen and they have to know what they're doing."

"Could you handle two dozen on top of your own?"

"Of course."

"Great. With thirty-six men, we have to be sure we can feed them and house them."

"And pay them," said Frank, crossing his arms.

"How often?"

"Weekly."

"How many weeks?"

"No promises, but with thirty-sex men who know what they're doing, I'd say several months."

Sebastian closed his eyes and nodded and then shook his head while thinking. Once he was done he said, "Some of the men will be from outside the immediate area. Any money they spend must be at Tierheim. Weekend passes must be approved by you alone and no purchasing from traders passing through."

"I can't promise that. The only decent brothel is in Heideck."

"That's why they only get a weekend.. Also, the moment any of your workers starts any trouble or commits any crimes, they will be exiled from the town."

"That I can do," Frank said, bending down to inspect the fallen wall.

"Hire first from here. If you need any more, let me know and we can send word in several directions. I have some contacts in Grenzstadt, Hochleben, and Heideck."

"Will do. My men are coming today as requested. They had to cut their vacation short after they built your mansion," said Frank putting his straw hat on.

"House," corrected Sebastian.

"Mansion… house… semantics."

"Touche. They will be duly compensated. They did a fine job on it, I must say. I know they will do a proper job on this project as well. But first, I need them to work on the barracks I purchased yesterday. Then once they are done, they can move into it and stay there until the work is complete. They will, though, have to stay with any players who will be on the team."

"That should be fine. Staying in a place with a bed instead of a roll in a tent will be heaven to them." Frank shook Sebastian's hand and then Leon's. "By the way, have you thought of a name for the team just yet?"

"Goodness, no. I may be the owner but this will be everyone's team. They will think of a good one I am sure. Are you planning on watching the game later?"

"The game? I don't know if it will be much of one."

"So, no, then?"

Frank smiled as he walked away. "Of course I'll be here. I have to know what kind of people I'm building a stadium for."

Sebastian and Leon took the rest of the early morning inspecting and writing down everything that needed to go or needed to be added. Soon after nine strikes, several people walked up the path to the pitch and began to find the least dangerous seats in the stands. As the hour went on, many more came up and did the same. A small mule made its way up the path pulling a covered cart followed by Mila, Gerta, and Michael. They parked in the center of the stands in front of the press box. Michael, the runner, opened the yellow cloth flaps and pinned them to the frame. After doing so, he unhitched the mule and made his way back to The Vulgar Tankard. Inside the cart were sticks of meat and pastries. Gerta began to lift some out as the spectators made their way to the mobile restaurant and even from where he stood, Sebastian could smell the fare wafting from the cart. Mila grabbed a large burlap sack and heaved it out of the cart, dropping it with a thud to the dirt. She then dragged it to the southeastern portion of the pitch where a makeshift bench had been placed.

Sebastian and Leon made their way to where she was and stood before her. "What do you have there," asked Sebastian.

"Helmets, some knee pads, and elbow pads. A couple of knuckle dusters and a few brass spikes for the team."

The nobleman noticed there were a lot of people filing up to the stands now. "Is this all you have?"

"Well, sir, all we have as extras, at least," Mila said. "We only play Sevens."

"Where is Garth?"

"With Lothar and Reuger, making sure they have provisions for the spectators and the Bruisers if we lose."

"When will the team show up? I believe the game should start in half an hour."

"They're coming. The Bruisers aren't here yet." As she unloaded the equipment, she pointed behind the two men. "Oh. Nevermind. Here they are."

Sebastian turned to see more spectators and several men in various garb of Blood Bowl equipment. He noticed them separating themselves from the line as they made their way to where Mila was standing. One of them was Mayor Junger dressed up as a player as well.

"Mayor Junger, you're playing?" Sebastian balked.

"Of course I am. You don't get to be mayor and not play. Mila, you're suiting up, right?"

Sebastian turned to Mila who said, "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

The nobleman arched his eyebrows at her and Leon shrugged. "Mayor, may I speak with you over here, please?"

The two walked off a few feet. "Mayor, you can't let a woman play on your team"

"And why not?"

"Because she could be killed!"

"I can hear you, y'know," said Mila.

"Don't worry, Lord Ginter," the mayor said, "I don't let a woman play on this team."

Sebastian breathed easier. "I let two of them play. Say 'hello' to Katrin."

The Count looked over to one of the heftier men and then realized that wasn't a man.

Staring at her, Sebastian realized that she wouldn't be confused with a man in normal garb. She did have short hair but she was tall and thick. Adding pads and some armor on top of very defined muscles in her legs and arms, he forgave himself in his misidentification.

Katrin turned to look at Sebastian who was openly staring at her. She glared in response. Sebastian waved meekly so she answered his wave with a snort and turned to focus on tying her boots.

"And, of course, you're playing," Sebastian said.

"That's right," said Mayor Junger. "Two women, an old guy, and a handful of young bucks. I hope the Bruisers brought something better than what they showed before."

Many Blood Bowlers throughout history have worshipped Nuffle, the god of Blood Bowl. Many have thanked him for their luck or performance, some have cursed him for the same; but everyone respected His capriciousness. So while it was an unsettling coincidence that Mayor Junger said what he said at the time, most everyone who truly values all that is Nuffle, would have seen this as the Blood Bowl God's influence as usual. Just after Mayor Junger spoke, a deep, guttural bellow was produced from the gate under the press box. Everyone turned to the sound and many stood trying to get a view from whence it came.

Bellowing again, a Troll came out of the opening followed by Grabba, Hork, two Black Orcs, several other Orcs, and a Goblin. They wore the uniforms and colors of the Black Fire Bruisers, which surprisingly, had no black or red, but was a motley smattering of blue and white.

The Orcs cheered as they took the field, while the crowd of almost fifty booed them. Sebastian looked over to the Tierheim crew and noticed a little haughtiness starting to ebb from their attitudes. Mayor Junger simply smiled.

"Were you ready for that," said Sebastian.

Mayor Junger pushed one of the nostrils closed so he could shoot whatever snot rockets were embedded in his other nostril to the ground. "Yep."

"You were?"

"They're Orcs," said Mayor Junger, blowing out his other nostril. "They don't always have Trolls but I figured these idjits did."

"How did you know?"

"Simple, really," the Mayor said as he walked back to his team. Sebastian fell into step with him. "They only have two Black Orcs, and if they beat the Brewers, then they would have had to have more strength in their team in order to break their armor.. Dwarves are funny like that."

Michael came back with the mule pulling a second cart, but this time he left the mule hitched and marched it up and down the sidelines taking orders from the crowd.

Sebastian's apprehension began to dissipate once he saw two referees walk up from the direction of town. One was clearly older than the other but they resembled each other very well. They both wore the black and white stripes of the Blood Bowl Referee Commission, and other than the older one's massive beard as compared to the younger one's goatee, they seemed to be almost identical in weight and height. Sebastian greeted them. "Gentlemen, are you rested and ready?"

"We are," said the older, bearded referee. As long as you have our money."

"Here's half of it now," he said, passing a small purse over, "and you get the other half at the end. Remember, no cheating allowed. From either side."

"Strange, but sure, whatever," said the younger man. "I can't believe you paid for us just to come out to this shankhole."

"Hey, manners, Hubert," said the head ref.

"Sorry, dad. Thank you for this opportunity, sir."

Sebastian smiled. No problem."

Mayor Junger beckoned Sebastian over and the nobleman complied. "Where did you get refs at this short of a notice?"

"Would you believe they were just passing through?"

"No."

"Oh. Well, that's a shame then," said Sebastian. "Good luck out there, Mayor. Make Tierheim proud." He then marched up to the first bench of the stands and took a seat with Leon. While there were a good number of fans that showed up, there was still plenty of room, including behind the home team's dugout.

The whistle blew at the middle of the pitch and both teams sent their captains to call the coin toss. Grabba and Coach Junger walked to the center of the field. Sebastian said to Leon, after buying a pastry from Michael, "Well, my good man, let's hope I didn't make the biggest mistake of my life."

Leon shrugged and chewed a massive chunk of pastry.

Chapter 7

"My theory is that Orcs are just as soft as Humans. Why do you think they need to wear all that armor?"

Man-Mangler McStone, Dwarven Runesmith

The Orcs won the coin toss and elected to receive first. They congratulated each other for the minor win with some punches to each other's face and Grabba pointed at six other players to take the pitch. The Troll and Goblin were included. Grabba positioned himself in the middle of his side of the pitch with the Hork, the two Black Orcs, an Orc lineman, and the Troll on the scrimmage line. The Goblin was chittering to his teammates running the length of their line. The Troll was staring at the food cart.

Tierheim set up. Coach Junger, Katrin, and two large linemen positioned themselves on the line of scrimmage.. Mila stood in the center of their half while two men took the outer lanes, one on each side.

The Goblin quickly climbed up the Troll's back, lifted his ear, and chittered in it. The Troll nodded when the Goblin pointed at the lineman directly in front of him. "Nevermind him, Mouth," said Coach Junger, "they fall harder than the rest of us."

Jon the Mouth said, "I ain't scared of any dumb animal." The lineman said the words but his countenance betrayed his stoic facade.

"Remember to keep him in front of you- just contain," said the Coach.

Mayor Junger hadn't played against Orcs in a very long time but when he played for the Averland Knights decades ago, he still remembered what damage Trolls could do if you blocked them one on one. The key was to contain and strike with multiple players. Either that, or run the shank away. Sevens made the last part a little harder.

"Remember, boys and girls," yelled Coach Junger, "this is our field overlooking our home. Orcs or no, they get to feel the pain we bring!"

The whistle blew and Mila kicked the ball towards the opposite end zone. A huge gust of wind blew the ball towards the crowd and stopped short of going out. The crowd erupted and the Troll punched Jon the Mouth in the chest. The man spun and fell face first but Coach Junger couldn't be bothered. He had his own problems when one of the Black Orcs charged him. Coach Junger stepped back just at the last second as the Black Orc tripped on a clod of dirt and only managed to reach his arms out and weakly shove Coach Junger back. The Black Orc kept his footing though and continued to chase him down, forcing him back further.. Finally, enough was enough and on the last reach, Coach Junger grabbed the Black Orc's arms and flung them down, leaving the face exposed. He then brought both his fists down in quick succession on the large Orc's nose, breaking it. Bewildered and still off-balance, the Orc stepped back while Coach Junger closed the distance and kicked at the Orc's knee. An audible snap occurred and the Black Orc went down.

Without losing a second, Coach Junger bolted for the Goblin. He could see Jon the Mouth getting up slowly. The Troll looked a bit confused as to what he just did which meant he wasn't paying attention to Coach Junger closing down on the Goblin trying to talk sense into the Troll. "Mila! Get the Goblin!"

Mila sprinted to the direction that Junger was pointing to but it also got the Goblin's attention. When he was ready to make a block, the Goblin dodged at the last second, causing Coach Junger to fall forward. The Goblin wasted no time and stomped on Coach Junger's head. Luckily, his helmet protected him enough to only get his bell rung. Mila, however, got there just as the Goblin was about to bite Coach Junger on the arm and punted its face. The Goblin was knocked back several feet and didn't get up.

"You okay, Coach?"

"Fine- who has the ball?"

"Grabba- they're caging up."

Coach Junger spotted Grabba near the sideline with the other Black Orcs and Hork clearing his way. Lukas, one of the blitzers, was attempting to punch through the side but was effectively blocked by the Black Orc. "Katrin, Lukas, Joachim- together punch through Hork!"

"Which one is Hork?" said Joachim.

"The stupid looking one!"

"Doesn't narrow that down, Coach!" yelled Lukas.

"The smaller, stupid looking one!"

The three Tierheimers planted their feet and launched themselves at Hork. Once they made contact, Hork was smashed backwards but the Black Orc and lineman behind him counter blocked, knocking the three of them back, forcing Joachim to the ground. Katrin squared up with the Black Orc and the two of them brawled, neither gaining the advantage. Coach Junger said, "Mila, run for Grabba and get that ball loose!"

"What about that big shankhole in front of him?"

"I'll take care of it," said Coach Junger, running and throwing his shoulder into the legs of the dark-skinned Orc. This caused it to fall, but it fell on top of Coach Junger in the process. Katrin got caught up in helping Lukas with the lineman. Mila leapt over the Black Orc/Coach Junger obstacle and drop-kicked Grabba in the face. Grabba stumbled, regained his feet quickly, and stiff-armed Mila, pushing her into the arms of Hork who had also joined the fray. This meant that Grabba had a clear path to the endzone.

Coach Junger rolled from under the body and arms of the Black Orc, his chest feeling like it was on fire, and ran after the thrower. He started to gain ground but then slowed dramatically. His legs burned and he just couldn't keep up. Lukas flew past him, "I got this, old man!"

Grabba gestured his disrespect towards the crowd as he was close to scoring the first touchdown of the game. Just before who crossed the line, Lukas slapped the ball out of his hands, and it bounced and rolled towards the path that led up to the stadium. Several passersby lunged for it, but one young woman picked it up and punted it. At first, the crowds booed until they saw it went just short of the midfield line, landing in the middle of Jon the Mouth's back. Smatterings of applause and cheers erupted and the woman bowed theatrically.

Coach Junger turned towards the ball, leaving Lukas laughing like a maniac as Grabba chased the blitzer around the field. Coach Junger hadn't cared for Lukas's style but started him anyway due to the sheer speed of the kid. After hitting Jon the Mouth, the ball bounced to the Troll who, as surprised as everyone else on the field at having caught the ball, promptly ate it. The refs blew the whistle for a restart. Possession would stay with the Orcs. The jeers from the crowd announced their displeasure while the refs ignored them. The prone and knocked out players of both sides were dragged from the field and filled in by the reserves. One Black Orc was out with the Bruisers' apothecary who looked a little overexcited to try out his bonesaw. He was replaced with a lineman and the Goblin, after inhaling some smelling salts, retook the field.

For Tierheim, Jon the Mouth was taken off, completely unconscious. "Sigmund," said Junger. "You're in for Mouth."

"Fine," said Sigmund. "Do you want me to block the Troll?"

"No. Michael!"

The runner came forward at breakneck pace. "Yes, Coach!"

"Get me a pastry. One with as much cream and icing as you can find. In fact, rub another one on it to make it more creamy. Now, boy."

Michael turned and ran. The whistle blew to restart the drive. Michael ran into the huddle surrounded by the seven players as they shouted. They then took the field. "Wotan," Junger said to one of the lineman as they trotted out, "Distract the Troll for me."

"How?"

"I don't know- sing to it for all I care."

The Troll, Hork, one Black Orc, and the two linemen set up on the scrimmage. Grabba parked himself in the middle of his side again and just like before, the Goblin chattered away, although not as enthusiastically as last time. "Mila! Kick it to the goblin!"

"What in Nuffle's name? I'm not that good of a kicker, Coach."

"Try!"

The whistle blew and Mila kicked the ball. It was nowhere close to the Goblin. It did, however, fall right into Grabba's hands. The thrower ran straight for the Goblin and handed it off. Both sides bashed into each other, the Orcs pushing Tierheim away from the troll. "Wotan! Distract him!"

Wotan ran close to the Troll and put his hands in the air, waved them, and sang as horribly as he could. The Troll turned and roared at him. Wotan had never been known to carry a tune, but now the visiting team knew this as well. At that moment, Joachim's opponent tackled him to the ground, knocking the air out of him.

When the Goblin tugged the arm of the Troll ready to be tossed, Coach Junger beamed the creamy pastry straight into the Goblin's face. While it tried to wipe it off, the Troll looked down, picked up the Goblin, and chomped down on its head. The crowd cheered, the Troll smiled, and the Goblin's headless body dropped to the ground along with the ball. Sigmund and Katrin pushed back against their Black Orc opponent, while Lukas was dealt with by Hork. Joachim was down on the ground again after just getting up, maybe contemplating his connection to the earth, and Grabba screamed for a foul to the refs who argued that pastries did not classify as Secret Weapons.

Mila vaulted herself towards the distracted Grabba and knocked him to the ground. Coach Junger lunged for the ball and picked it up, nearly dropping it from the slick blood that covered half of it. He began to run towards the end zone knowing he was being chased. He risked a glance behind him and saw an Orc reach out for him. The Orc dragged him to the ground, but before he fell, Coach Junger noticed Lukas coming up fast. He dumped the ball backwards which Lukas caught and raced for the touchdown. When Lukas spiked the ball in the endzone, the crowd erupted. Coach Junger got up to a standing position and smiled through the pain. He stretched his back and then yelled. "Let's go, Tierheim! We have more to score!"

Chapter 8

"The sounds of bones breaking, the sight blood squirting, and the cries of your opponents!"

Evil Knut, player for the Asgard Ravens, when asked why he loves Blood Bowl

The rest of the first half ended with no other casualties or touchdowns. For Tierheim, nothing much had changed, including Joachim's interest in staying unconscious. At either rate, Coach Junger had to substitute Joachim for Felix, one of the younger players on the team. Since there were no locker rooms, both teams moved to the opposite end zones for their huddle. Sebastian moved as close as he could without being too obvious, which failed miserably considering his bright clothes and stalwart companion were standing in the open, not five feet away. Sitting in the stands during the game, he had picked up on a lot of rumors, opinions, and different strategies from fifty plus bench seat coaches. It had given both Leon and Sebastian cramps in their hands trying to write everything down.

After the game, he would need to pour over his notes to really think about the structure of the team. What was obvious was that Coach Junger was too old, Joachim couldn't help but be one with the ground, Jon the Mouth was useless, although Katrin and Mila had proven their worth several times over. Had it not been for the sheer will of Katrin, numerous breakthroughs would have been created, and almost every turnover for the Orcs had Mila involved. Her ability to read the field and wrestle down any opponent near her was astonishing, and had she not tackled one of their blitzers at the last moment, the score would be one to one. Lukas had been another shining point of the team while Wotan was average at best.

"We've got this game in hand, boys and girls, "said Coach Junger. "Lukas!"

Lukas shifted his gaze from several women making eyes at him from the stands. "Yes, Coach?"

"Don't get too cocky. Orcs are known for rearranging pretty boys into Squig shanks. I need you to switch faster from defense to offense. That means I need you down the field ready for the ball."

"Why, Coach, who's going to throw it?"

"Felix is. Now, Felix, you're going to get the ball whenever you can. I want you scanning for Lukas. Once Felix gets a hold of it, Sigmund- you and Katrin run a screen. Wotan and I will pick off any flankers. Mila?"

"Yes, Coach?"

"I need you to just be you. Anything that gets behind us goes to the ground."

"Got it."

"A one to nil lead is not the worst position to be in, but we need to focus on smart hits and make those hits count. They're fired up right now because we fed their Troll. We hurt one of their Black Orcs, and although I can't stand the Streissen Rebels, they're still Averlanders and anything we can do to the Bruisers permanently, the better."

The team huzzahed and headed back to the sideline bench. Coach Junger trailed behind by himself so Sebastian took the opportunity to walk with him. "Well, spoken, Coach."

"I'm no real coach. We all play for the love of the game."

"I beg to differ. Not many people can do what you just did."

"Like what?"

"Well, creatively feed their Troll for starters," said Sebastian.

"Well, youth and skill are no match for old age and treachery. As they say."

Sebastian snorted. "Quite right, well, good luck in the next half."

"I would rather be lucky than good," Coach Junger grumbled back.

When they made their way back to the stands, Sebastian said to Leon, "I think we found our coach."

Leon's face was deadpan. Sebastian chuckled. "Don't look at me like that, Leon, you saw his limp. Before you say anything, you know it wasn't there before the match."

The whistle blew for the teams to take the field. Felix sat in the backfield with Mila. Katrin and Sigmund faced off against the Troll and the remaining Black Orc, while Coach Junger stared down Hork on the Scrimmage line. Wotan and Lukas lined up in the outer lanes across from a lineman and an Orc blitzer. Grabba paced behind the line with the ball. "Prepare for the blitz," said Coach Junger.

Katrin and Sigmund acknowledged him with a thumbs up. The whistle blew and Grabba punted the ball towards Mila. Felix waved her off for the catch. The Black Orc next to the Troll slapped its back and the Big Guy lunged forward. Unfortunately, for the Troll, Katrin and Sigmund dodged laterally, then slammed their shoulders in its legs. The Troll toppled and the two linemen wasted no time. Katrin used the Troll's back to launch herself into the Black Orc giving orders, bringing a spiked elbow down into its left eye. Sigmund threw his entire body into Hork and they both tumbled to the ground.

Felix ran down the pitch on the right side of the field looking for Lukas to get open. The Orc blitzer was covering him fairly well, and when Felix looked to Wotan, he noticed the man got knocked out by Grabba, who was now charging the Tierheim thrower. Mila stepped in his way and leapt towards Grabba to give him another dropkick, but Grabba had seen that move before and dodged out of the way. Mila landed with an awkward thump and took several key seconds to get back up. Another Orc lineman bore down on Felix who panicked and threw a hail mary pass before being tackled by the lineman. Coach Junger raced to the where the ball was headed but couldn't get there fast enough. Grabba, however, had figured out what Felix was going to do and he was fast enough. The ball bounced on the ground only to be scooped up by a sprinting Grabba.

Coach Junger passed by the Troll who finally seemed to regain his environmental awareness and snatched the coach's right leg. Coach Junger fell forward, smashing his face in the dirt. He then felt himself get picked up high in the air and then body-slammed on the ground. Before he passed out, Coach Junger couldn't remember the last time he had felt his bones break. Playing the Reikland Reavers? Or was it the Gouged Eye?

Sebastian and the rest of the crowd, except Leon, got to their feet- a collective and audible gasp erupted. "Leon, I think we may need you."

The servant had already put down his meat on a stick and was walking towards a bag before Sebastian had even said anything. Grabba ran to the endzone uncontested to score. Once he finished what looked like a touchdown celebration complete with swirling hip movements, Katrin and Sigmund carried Coach Junger off the field as quickly as they could. Katrin asked, "Where's the bag?"

Jon the Mouth, who was awake now, pointed to Leon who brought the bag to where they plopped Coach Junger down. Joachim, who also had regained consciousness, said, "I think this is worse than what the bag can do."

Leon pushed past the team crowding around Coach Junger and putting his hands out, motioning for them to give him room. Jon the Mouth was about to argue until he saw the grim face of Leon, and then stepped back with everyone else.. Leon dumped the bag and rummaged through bandages, gauze, straps, and several bottles of salve and potions. He then put his hands on Coach Junger until he found the break in the leg.

Leon put out his hand waiting to be handed something. "What do you want," asked Katrin.

Jon the Mouth handed Leon a bottle who promptly dropped it to the ground. Then he handed Leon some gauze causing the servant to do the same thing. "Shanking say what you want," yelled Jon the Mouth.

Leon slowly stared at Jon the Mouth, who cowered before the death glare given. Just then, a small hand holding a knife stuck out between the players. They moved to allow Michael through. He nodded to Leon who nodded back. Leon then cut the straps of the knee pads and then any remaining clothing from the leg. Everyone could see where the bone was broken in Coach Junger's shin. Leon tossed the knife into the dirt where the point dug in. The servant put his hand out and wiggled his fingers. Michael handed Leon a strap and a tourniquet was placed near his knee. Leon then grabbed a small, hooked dagger from inside his coat sleeve and cut into the bump of the leg. Coach Junger groaned loudly and trickles of blood came from the now open wound.

Leon stood up and opened his coat where several bottles were attacked by little straps. He pointed to Sigmund and Katrin and mimicked breaking a twig to Sigmund and eating a chicken leg to Katrin. They were completely confused until Michael said, "Sigmund, you will snap the bone back in place. Katrin, put something strong in his mouth to bite on.

Everyone stared at Michael. Leon's mouth imperceptibly raised on the right side of his mouth. "What? He just told you what to do!" the young boy said.

Katrin opened Coach Junger's mouth while the whistle blew to retake the field. She then put a rolled up towel into his mouth to bite on. Sigmund was waiting for Leon who knelt by the wound. Leon then counted on his fingers, one, two, three, to tell Sigmund when to move the bone back in place.

One, two, three, snap! The moment Sigmund felt the bone slip into place, Leon dumped a runny, blue liquid into the wound. Coach Junger howled around his biter and passed out again. The older ref ran up to the scene. "Let's go, Tierheim, or you'll have to kickoff to the Bruisers again."

Sigmund's face scrunched in anger. He stood up like a shot and said, "Then let's go."

The ref turned around and trotted towards the center of the pitch. Sebastian said, "Tierheim, take the field, Leon and Michael will take care of Coach Junger. Who will take his spot?"

"I will," said Jon the Mouth. "I have a score to settle." He ran out yelling curses to the Bruisers, trotting up the sidelines, whipping the crowd into a mild frenzy.

Leon was applying a thick salve to the wound and Michael was preparing some wraps. Sebastian walked over to the bench. This didn't look good. There were still four more players on the bench but the "B" squad didn't need to be out there right now. Tierheim needed a win for this to work, but a tie may have to do.

The Orcs lined up the same as before except Sigmund specifically squared off against the Troll alone. He gestured to Jon and Katrin to match the Black Orc and the lineman next to the Big Guy.. Grabba and the rest of the team were chuckling but it sounded more like gurgling. The whistle blew, the ball was kicked, and Sigmund kicked the Troll in the groin. The Troll didn't do much except get confused which opened up a sweeping kick from Sigmund into the Troll's left knee followed by another one into the Troll's right knee. The Big Guy crumpled to his knees. Sigmund took off his helmet which had one iron spike in the middle, and brought it down repeatedly until the Troll's face looked like what Jon the Mouth left in a chamber pot. Known for their regeneration, Sigmund never said a word as the mushy, scrunch sounds of the Troll's head became nothing more than pudding. The Troll's body fell over and the younger ref blew the whistle for a foul.

The Bruisers responded by screaming at the ref to have intervened earlier, and may have had a brawl, but with the loss of their Goblin and a Troll and Black Orc that might miss the game against Streissen, they looked to the crowd. The people looked as though any fight on the field would lead to a pitch invasion. Luckily, for the Bruisers, Grabba wasn't as stupid as he sounded and was able to control his team. The Bruisers dragged the Troll's body off of the pitch, his head already starting to regenerate, and replaced him with another lineman.

Sigmund walked off the field with the referee following him. He was replaced by Fritz who looked at Sigmund's blood-covered uniform, smiling. Sigmund then sat down on the ground next to Coach Junger, whose leg was wrapped and had a cushion of uniforms under it to raise it higher.

Katrin said to Fritz when he lined up, "Time to do some more damage."

Fritz huzzahed, Jon the Mouth yelled insults to Grabba, Mila told Felix the plan, Katrin barked at the Black Orc in front of her, Wotan rubbed dirt into his palms, Lukas waved to some girl in the stands, the whistle blew, and the ball was thrown up between the Black Orc and Katrin. A full head taller, the Black Orc was able to reach the ball but because he was built for hitting and not catching, he predictably fumbled it, and it fell behind Katrin. Fritz bashed into the lineman in front of him and Felix ran to pick up the ball. Jon the Mouth yelled as he went to block Grabbe. The thrower knocked him out with a headbutt.

Grabba blitzed towards Felix who scooped up the ball. Mila ran again to intercept Grabba, and feinted a drop kick. This caused Grabba to hesitate just enough for Mila to grasp an outstretched arm and use Grabba's weight against him as she flung herself to the ground.

Felix looked upfield to Lukas who had broken away from Hork thanks to Fritz who was bear-hugging the blitzer towards the sideline. Just before an Orc lineman tackled Felix, he threw the ball with a perfect lead, allowing Lukas to keep running at full speed and not break his stride. The crowd erupted when Lukas caught it and reached the endzone. The whistle blew as the Tierheim blitzer crossed the line. The teams got up and started back to their positions. Both sides, clearly tired. Grabba, however, was furious.

Leon popped a vial and placed it under Junger's nose. He immediately woke up and yelped. "Where the shank am I?"

"On the ground, Coach," said Sebastian. Your team just scored another touchdown."

The coach struggled to sit up but with Sigmund's help, he did just that. He looked down to his leg. "Broken?"

"I'm afraid so, yes," said Sebastian.

"This is good work. Professional. But we don't have an apothecary."

"That's right, you don't have an apothecary. But we do have a Leon. He was able to get you right."

Coach Junger turned to Leon and stuck his hand out. The servant shook the coach's hand and jerked his thumb to Michael. "Oh," said Sebastian," Michael helped, too."

Coach Junger nodded approvingly. "Thanks, boy."

Michael beamed. The coach turned back to the game. "Who scored?"

Sigmund said, "Lukas, again, with a pass from Felix."

"Good work. Where's the Troll?"

"Out of commission."

"You?"

"Me."

"Is that why you're out here instead of in there?"

"Yes."

"Thanks, Sigmund."

"No problem."

The whistle blew and Mila kicked off to the Orcs. Hork read the ball well and caught it without a problem. However, after the Troll left the field, and the last touchdown was scored, the enthusiasm previously shown by the Bruisers had deflated.

By the time the match ended, the score was two to one. The crowd applauded with jubilance. Garth, who had several mules bring some carts for provisions also cheered since he didn't have to pass them off to the Bruisers. The Orcs gestured rudely to everyone and brought their wagons onto the field to take the Orcs down to Nuln for SEXC. With a Goblin gone, a Troll regenerating, and Black Orc possibly out of commission, the games ahead were going to be tougher for them.

The Tierheim team waved to the crowd. Coach Junger was leaning on Sigmund when Sebastian came up. "Your team did beautifully, Coach."

"I'm not a coach," said Coach Junger.

"Yes you are," said Sigmund.

The coach grunted. Sebastian patted the old man on the shoulder. "When would you like to meet so we can talk about the future of a Tierheim Blood Bowl team?"

"There's going to be a team," asked Lukas.

"Yes," said Sebastian.

"An actual team," asked Mila.

"Yes, an actual team. Of course, we need the approval of your coach and mayor."

"I don;t know," said Coach Junger. "We still have so far to go. We got lucky with the Bruisers in many ways."

Mila and Lukas had their hands in prayer looking at him with puppy dog eyes. Katrin walked up and gave the coach a thumbs up. Felix had a huge grin. Jon the Mouth was still unconscious. "Ugh. Fine, we'll talk," said Coach Junger.

Sebastian laughed. "I would ask for nothing more."

Chapter 9

"Good owners are the coach. The best owners get out of the way of the coach and focus instead on counting the gold the team brings in."

-DD Griswell, Sr, Owner of the Altdorf Acolytes, So You Want To Be an Blood Bowl Owner?

Work began on the barracks the next morning. Thankfully, the inside was sturdier and had a stronger foundation than previously thought. Because there weren't any major renovations to be done to the interior, there were enough rooms to house the initial workers for Oberst's Construction and Demolition, Frank's company, by the end of the day. The following morning, Sebastian stopped in to see how work was coming along and cut the first payment for the workers. He then left a note for Garth at the Vulgar Tankard to let him know about the increase in temporary population in the coming weeks and that he might want to order more supplies. Of course, Sebastian offered any help as needed to secure provisions or help with logistics. His last appointment found him at the home of Mayor Junger.

The Mayor's house was a two room affair just behind the town hall. There were two windows at either end facing north and south while the doors on each of the other sides opened to the west and east. Before Sebastian could enter, Mayor Junger flung the door open and shut it behind him just as quickly. It was a little awkward considering the cast and crutch were in the way of a smooth exit. "Alright, let's go. To your house, I suppose?"

"No, actually, I thought we could have some lunch in your new office. Would you like a ride in the carriage?"

"I'll manage. My new office?"

They turned to walk back to the main road. "Your new office. You need a good location for your planning and scheming."

"In the barracks?"

"Precisely. It was the second project I needed Frank to complete. It only took a little over a day to put up some makeshift rooms for his working crew and an office for you. It seems even with it being abandoned, the building itself has held up quite well. Today, I thought it would be prudent to have lunch delivered. Hilde has been working throughout the day for something special. In fact, not only do we need to find a team, we need to find a whole staff of people to help support this project of ours-"

"-yours-"

"-ours now that you have agreed to coach."

Mayor Junger stopped abruptly. "Hold on, I haven't officially agreed to anything. There are a lot of changes happening and I need to make sure they are the right changes before I plunge this town down your fantasy world."

"Excellent. I would ask nothing better. How about a probationary period? You'll be the consulting coach until you officially take the position. I assume if you do, you'll need to relinquish your mayoral duties as well. Have you spoken to anyone about the town's potential dissolvement?"

"Let's cross that bridge when we get there."

They crossed the short bridge that spanned what would be considered a large creek to a Halfling, but was no more than an angry trickle in reality. This was, in part, due to the summer months drying up the source, but every early Spring, the bridge became useful as a true thoroughfare across a thaw-bloated creek.

Sebastian spied old trails wind their ways to the hills. Without any exports, Tierheim had suffered a slow downturn in the past decade after the hills dried up of nickel. With the mining gone, Tierheim had to compete with Grenzstadt and Heideck for trade along the Old Dwarf Road. Heideck's location had allowed it to moderately blossom. Situated at the junction of several roads, it was the last major town before Averheim on the Old Dwarf Road. With Sebastian's help, maybe Tierheim could turn its luck with becoming a destination, and a Blood bowl one to boot. Beating the Black Fire Bruisers put Tierheim on the track to making that goal a reality. Even if it was an unofficial game, and Sevens at that, the win did more than just become a moral victory. It let people around Tierheim know this was a town with a fighting chance. Now, however, they needed to focus on tryouts.

"How's the leg coming, Mayor?" asked Sebastian as they closed on their destination.

"I don't know what Leon did, but he worked wonders. I should have probably died."

"Leon definitely has proven himself to be a knowledgeable man."

"Where did you find him?"

"Is it too cliche to say that he actually found me?"

"Yes."

"Well, he did find me, literally, but that's a story for another time. Here we are."

Rudimentary, wooden scaffolding had been built to cover the front face of the barracks. There weren't any workers out here except for one who was inspecting the moulding along one of the windows. They entered through the double door and were blasted by the smells of fresh wood and stain. Inside, they were in a large foyer, similar to a town hall's waiting room. Since this had previously been the town hall, the building lent itself to be an easy conversion. A large hallway ran down the width of the center of the building, punctuated by a long front desk, covered with blueprints and notes.

They turned right when they reached the desk and found themselves in a very wide hallway with an open staircase in the middle leading to the second floor.. A wrap-around balcony on the second floor allowed any guests, or now players, to look down on those walking on the first floor. Doors to the rooms were left open to allow the air to circulate more. Torches were lit to illuminate aided by the sunlight let in through the open windows. The two men ascended the steps slowly, so that Mayor Junger could bungle his way up the steps without breaking another leg. "Any chance we can move this office, sir?"

"I'm sorry, but I didn't anticipate the coach breaking his leg in a one-off match with Orcs."

"No offense, Lord Ginter, I don't know where you're from, but the coaches around here enter the pitch with the players."

"None taken, Mayor Junger. But I am from Averheim, in case you were wondering."

"I had a feeling. And it does surprise me that this is one thing you didn't seem to anticipate."

"You think so?"

"I do. You seem to be a man a couple of steps ahead."

"Well, a successful businessman must be," smiled Sebastian. "And if I can anticipate where I believe you are headed with this conversation, please allow me to point out that being well prepared doesn't necessarily equate to manipulation with ignoble intent."

The Mayor grunted. They finally made it to the top of the landing here straight ahead was a door leading to a very spacious office. Upon entering, the room was even larger than it appeared. Large windows dotted along the back wall, looking out towards where the pitch was on the hill. Because they were open, it was a bit drafty, and the air was cool.. In the center of the floor in front of the windows was a massive desk facing the door. Off to the left was a small fireplace with a few armchairs in front of it and to the right was a blank wall.

"I left this wall blank in case you wanted to put up anything of note. This will be your new office-"

The Mayor cut his eyes to Sebastian.

"-temporarily for now, and then permanently should you take the job."

Mayor Junger hobbled over to a large, framed cork board leaning up against a large, framed chalkboard. "We'll see what we can do with this."

A knock on the open door announced Hilde and Simon, Count Ginter's doorman. Between the two, they had a wooden crate filled with food.

"Where would you like this, Lord Ginter," asked Hilde.

"Next to the desk is fine. Will the surface be large enough?"

"Oh, yes sir, not a problem at all."

Simon and Hilde each used an arm to carry the crate and they sat it down with a thump on the floor. "Simon, please unload these for me," she said.

"Certainly, Hilde."

They both set up a carving station on the desk. During this time, Sebastian and Mayor Junger hung the chalkboard on the wall. It wasn't a difficult feat, but did take some balancing considering Mayor Junger's injury. "Coach Junger-"

"-Mayor Junger-"

"-Mayor Junger, I have taken the liberty of writing down names on sheets of paper and putting down possible positions and tactical set-ups for use of their individual and team talents. I, of course, would always want a coach to have final say who goes on their team, so I would very much appreciate your input."

"Let's see what you got," said Mayor Junger.

Sebastian took out several inches of parchments out of a stuffed satchel. "Here's the team as set-up in the Sevens game the other day. First up is Mila Matthaus."

Mayor Junger sat down with a heavy weight into a chair the doorman had brought over. "Mila is an opposing offense's , I don't feel her offense is very strong. Her speed and what she can do to bring someone down makes her a terror in the backfield."

"Agreed. Moving forward, I didn't see too much out of her. Her kicking is quite poor."

"She's capable. She can catch okay, too, but she is much better at ripping the ball out of a player's hands."

Sebastian smiled, "At first I thought her size would get her killed against the Bruisers, but she stood up for herself just fine."

"We do need to work on her kicking- then she can focus on hunting the backfield for any who get through the lines. We also need to work on her switching from defense to offense faster and independently think on her own. She'll do what she's told, but if the captain is off the field, she can get a little lost."

"So we'll keep her, Mayor Junger?."

"Of course. Next?"

"I have… Sigmund Kahn. Very strong defender and container. Maybe temperamental?"

"Yes to all. He has a hard time keeping things objective and impersonal. What he did to the Troll was great, but in a real game, that would have hurt us more in the long run."

"Would you say he's a hothead?" asked Sebastian.

"No. He's a grudgebearer. He has the personality of a Dwarf but his size does give him away as Human."

"I think his strength and fearless countenance win him a place on this team," said Sebastian, marking on the parchment.

"Agreed. He needs to work more in tandem with a group instead of an individual. Working with Katrin bodes well for him when they have an objective, but I think he misses the bigger picture with screening and caging."

Sebastian pinned the parchment, which had Sigmund's name and various scrawls, beside Mila's. "Next, we have Joachim."

"Nah."

"I've seen more of his backside in one day than any other man in my entire life. Except for Jon the Mouth."

"Heh," said Mayor Junger. "That was a bad game for him, I'll admit, but he isn't much better on his best days."

Sebastian ripped the sheet and picked up another one. "Katrin Kohler."

"Good bruiser. Thinks better on her feet than Sigmund. Without her, we would have lost many games, including this last one."

"She seems to keep her head pretty well. What's her occupation?"

"She's a pig farmer. Lifts them all over the place. Hugs them when they do what she wants and tackles the shank out of them when they don't. Needless to say, she has some well-behaved pigs."

Hilde and Simon came over with plates of fruit and some bread with a mix of two cheeses. Mayor Junger initially scoffed, but began to pick at his plate. "Who's next, sir?"

Sebastian said, "Lukas Lahm. I will say this, that boy is fast."

"Probably built up his speed to save his life."

"How do you mean?"

"He's outrun more angry fathers and even a couple of hounds after being caught in certain dalliances with their daughters. We even had to get him locked up one time so Farmer Flick wouldn't roast him alive. Luckily, people enjoy watching him play."

"Strategy?"

"He needs some," Mayor Junger said, picking his teeth. "Right now he relies on his speed, but if this team gets going, he's going to find a lot of players who are just as fast if not faster."

"I hear that the new recruit for the Streissen Rebels has got that kind of speed. And strength too. Could be a star in the making- Griff Oberwald, I think his name is. Anyways, are we keeping Lukas?"

"Lukas? Yeah. We just need to make sure his pants are sewn shut."

Sebastian chuckled. "Okay, how about Jon the Mouth?"

"Cheerleader."

"Excuse me?"

"He's a born cheerleader. He loves the game, loves the team, riles people up, pumps them up- he's just a terrible player."

"And goes down a bit too easy."

Mayor Junger wiped his mouth. "Turns out you have to stay on your feet to play this game."

Sebastian ripped the sheet. "Next is Felix Muller. Young kid who threw the winning touchdown pass. What do you think?"

"Felix is good. And the best part is that he wants to be better by putting in the work. Yes, I say we keep him and train him more into being a thrower. Right now, he sort of plays multiple positions but I think some focused training will do him a lot of good. Maybe work on his leadership as well."

Sebastian put Felix on the board. "Very good. Next is Wotan. I don't know about him. I feel as if he didn't have too much of a presence."

"Well, Wotan is another lump of coal that could become a diamond. He'll do as he's told, won't shy from hard work, and sees the game in a larger lens than a lot of the others. We definitely need for him to eat more and exercise. Bulk him up a bit. He could make a very good lineman. Don't put him up on the board, though. We'll see what he does for tryouts."

"Fritz Hopfen?"

"He's like another Wotan. Might give him a tryout. We are having tryouts, right?"

"That's up to the coach, but I was assuming that's what would happen. I hired a scout a month ago to go to different places around Averland. He's created a list of potential players to see. I sent a pigeon to several message stations to put the word out in the bigger towns as well. See who we can pull from there."

"Anticipating, hunh? What's that last parchment under your hand?"

Sebastian looked down. "Oh, it's nothing. Just an extra sheet."

"Rip it up."

"Excuse me?"

"Rip it up, sir. I know that's my name on there."

"I mean, you were out there on the field, so I took notes."

"I'm no player anymore. That was my last game, and not on account of my leg."

"No more games?"

"I'm not gonna cry about it. I know I'm old and I made this decision multiple times in my life. The body just can't keep up with the mind anymore, especially now."

"I'm sorry, Mayor Junger."

"Please. I was sucking high and dry before my leg got busted. Maybe this was Nuffle's way of telling me to move on."

"And maybe coach?"

"You don't let up, do you, Lord Ginter?"

"Not really, no." He ripped the sheet up.

Hilde and Simon came over with another plate with shaved ham, green beans, and bread sliced in twain. A brownish sauce was spread on the bread and Mayor Junger raised it to his nose. "What is it?"

"A Tilean mustard. I think you'll like it, Mayor Junger," said Hilde. "Just put the ham on the bread and then the green beans. It's a bit like a sandwich."

"Fine."

"Thank you, Hilde; Simon," said Sebastian. "That will be all for now. Have the two of you eaten?"

"Not yet, sir," said Simon.

"Please do. Can you both meet us back here in half an hour?"

"Yes, sir," said Hilde. She did an awkward curtsy which matched Simon's equally awkward bow and then left, closing the door.

"This is delicious," said Mayor Junger.

Sebastian looked over the board. "Mila, Katrin, Sigmund, Lukas, and Felix. Possibly Wotan and Fritz. What are we missing, Mayor Junger?"

The mayor peered at the names. "A couple more blitzers. Maybe another thrower. Maybe a couple of catchers. Definitely missing an Ogre."

"Know where we can get one," asked Sebastian.

"I know of a couple. Less than half a day's ride east of here."

"Worth a look?"

"Sure. But we do have a problem."

"We have several. Which one was on your mind?"

"A proper field," said Mayor Junger. "We'll need one. And that takes a lot of money."

"I'm working on that," said Sebastian, taking a small bite of his sandwich.

"Are you sure that kind of money? No offense, my lord."

"None taken. But I have a good starting place for a good field. The town of Tierheim will need to help build their team, if we are to succeed."

"I still don't know how you plan on doing that."

"It's business," smiled Sebastian. "Plain and simple. All I need is your help."

Mayor Junger took a bite of his sandwich. "I hope your idea is as good as this mustard."

Chapter 10

"Peasants have always been revolting- the key is not to have them rebelling."

-Marius Leitdorf, formerly known as the Mad Count of Averland

Over the next few days, more workers trickled in to give Frank the needed help towards completing the barracks. With only superficial repairs left, Sebastian and Mayor Junger hammered out the details of tryouts. Word also got back to Tierheim that the Streissen Rebels obliterated the Black Fire Bruisers, 6-0, thanks to their star lineman, Griff Oberwald. The scuttlebutt also stated that the Streissen Rebels were headed to play the Grenzstadt Brewers in a couple of days. Unfortunately, neither Sebastian nor Mayor Junger could go to watch the games. Instead, Leon was sent to take notes.

In one week, tryouts for Tierheim would be held, but meanwhile, there was going to be a town meeting to discuss further developments. Since more people expressed interest in attending, the meeting was moved to the Vulgar Tankard instead of outside the town hall. Sebastian had another brilliant idea of expanding the tiny town hall so that future meetings involving the town could be done inside instead of a tavern. Mayor Junger agreed, but also expressed a little hesitancy because he didn't necessarily agree that more people should be given the room to share their ideas.

Garth was thrilled because his place was packed wall to wall. Mila and Gerta did not share in the excitement because they had to serve even more people in less time. Michael had graduated to running ales from the bar while Reuger raced around the kitchen to place orders. True, there were only two items to be ordered- porridge and stew- but this still added quite a bit of workload.

While it was busier than usual, not everyone placed an order of food or drink due to lack of financial means, but when most of those who ordered had their fill, Garth stepped onto the bar where the first five feet in front was cordoned off for Mayor Junger.

"Gentlemen. I call to order our first town meeting in, well, a heck of a long time."

"Speak up!" came an disembodied voice.

"Then shut the shank up and listen!" he replied.

The crowd simmered to a murmur. "As most of you have heard, we're looking to start a team here in Tierheim."

"What's the name?" shouted someone.

"Tierheim, you idjit."

"Of the team!"

"Tierheim Blood Bowl Team for now. We'll start taking votes later. Now, for starters we need to-"

Several townsfolk interrupted. "How about, 'The Steers?'"

"Or 'the Farmers?'"

"'Farmers'? Really, Erik? That will strike fear into the opposition!"

"Better than 'Tierheim Plowers' you said to me at the farm!"

Mayor Junger put up his hands, "Knock it off! Save it for the end!"

"'The Plowers' is great. Better than 'the Hammers'!"

"That name is great! Because we will nail anyone who comes across us!"

"Wouldn't it be better to say 'we'll plow anyone who comes across us'?"

Garth threw an empty tankard at the last man to speak, striking him in the face and knocking him backwards from his chair. "Let the Mayor speak, you dinks!"

"Tierheim Tankards," asked another. The mayor shot that one a dirty look, sauntered over with his crutch, and stuck a finger in the man's face. "One more word and I'll shut this meeting down, starting with your mouth."

The crowd silenced themselves sheepily. Mayor Junger walked back and sat on a bar stool. "The most important matter right now is who is going to pay for it. Right now, you all know that Lord Ginter has built a home here in Tierheim. He wants to get the town back to not being a shankhole. And although I love this town, that's what most people think of our town."

Mayor Junger took a draft of his tankard. "Lord Ginter and I have come up with a plan. Blood Bowl teams are expensive. Therefore, using some business acumen, Lord Ginter wants to make us a 'destination town'."

"Where people find their destiny?" asked one of the men. His friends glared at him to silence himself.

"No. As in, people will want to visit us- not because they have to pass through, but because they want to stay here for a day or two."

The crowd started chuckling. "How will we do that, Mayor," said one of the farmers. "We have cattle and this tavern."

"That's right," said Sebastian, stepping up next to the Mayor. "And if we can do it right, we can sell exactly what this town is good at. Beef and beer."

One farmer raised his hand. "How do we do that, exactly?"

"I'm glad you asked," said Sebastian. "We create a demand for the way we raise and butcher our cattle. We fatten them up, grill them up, and sell them to localities that want Tierheim premiere beef. A little advertising goes a long way and from the food I have had here, there is a lot of potential for making this big."

One farmer stood. "Lord Ginter, my name is Boris Kohler. I don't raise beef. I am a pig farmer. Why should I back you and this town if cattle becomes the top market?"

"Good question. How about because Tierheim raises the best beef and pork in Averland?"

"I think we already do. Especially the pork. But if we raise more animals, that means we have to get more feed."

"Mr. Kohler, you brew the best brown I've ever had," said Mayor Junger. "What do you do with the spent grain?"

"Nothing. It's worthless."

Sebastian said, "Mr. Kohler, what if you fed your hogs the spent grain? I have heard many of you brew your own ales. What if you all did that? Right now, grain is fairly cheap. Mostly, because we're in Averland. We can always get more grain to brew and then feed to the animals. Then we market the ales and the meat."

"How are you going to do that?" asked another farmer.

"Advertising is telling people what they want. And who spends the most in buying anything?" said Sebastian.

"The rich," said a man with his arms crossed.

Sebastian pointed at the man. "Precisely. The rich. So we need to advertise in a clever way. The big difference between the rich and others is they are more likely to read."

A surge of grumbles from the crowd began to rise in volume. "Hear me out. Reading is all well and good but it also becomes a more manipulative way to change someone's mind. What I mean is, we advertise to the rich to get them to want what we have. The other difference is the rich are easily fooled in separating them with their money."

Another man interjected, "But Grenzstadt already makes the best wines."

"Around here, sure," said Mayor Junger. "But their ales aren't. And who would want to travel all the way to Grenzstadt from Averheim if they get to us first and give them exactly what they want? Why go on to Grenzstadt?"

Sebastian said, "And although the Vulgar Tankard is a fine tavern, the town needs more stores. More taverns. But we can be smart about expansions."

Garth tensed up but allowed Sebastian to finish. "Mayor Junger and I will be meeting with the few store owners for their input and opinions on filling the town with various services.. The abandoned buildings need to be repaired and filled, after all. Already, there has been an influx of population due to the temporary increase of workers."

"They're putting me out of business!" yelled another man.

"Keep your shirt on, Erik," said Mayor Junger. "They're only here to get some stuff done out of the way, I promise you. You and Heinrich and Luther will have plenty of contracting work coming up. Probably more than you could handle, if we're honest."

"We can handle it- let's see what you got!" said Erik.

"We said," replied Sebastian. Erik crossed his arms and leaned back, looking around to see if anyone else was as pleased with himself as he was. "Mayor Junger and I want to use everyone in this town to help with putting Tierheim back on the map. And a Blood Bowl team will certainly do that."

"Why Blood Bowl? What do you get out of this, Lord Ginter," asked Mr. Kohler. "No offense."

"There are several points I would like to address," said Mayor Junger. "I know exactly what this looks like. A rich nobleman comes into town, fixes things up, then starts running it himself like his own little kingdom. Tierheim has three things I love. Beef, beer, and people who love Blood Bowl. Lord Ginter also loves these three things. I have spoken with the man previous to his visit and since. I vouch for him."

Sebastian nodded. "I won't lie to any of you. I stand to make a lot of money from this project. However, all of you do, too. I'm not from here. I am from Averland, but I'm from Averheim. I have loved this town the moment I set eyes on it and the countryside all around. As a businessman, I like the potential to make money and some influence, of course. But there's no reason we all can't have the desire to get this town back on its feet."

After some chattering amongst the group, Mayor Junger stood up. "There is also the most important matter at hand. Bigger than any of this. And I'm afraid it is very troubling. It also answers why things are moving faster than a Halfling smelling a Bog Moot sandwich."

After a pause, Garth said, "What is it, Mayor?"

"If by this time next year, we don't produce anything of importance and keep ourselves profitable and influential, Averheim will revoke our town charter."

There was an even longer pause. People looked around to each other. "How long have you known?" asked Boris Kohler.

"About a month ago."

Angry voices rose to a dizzying level. Accusations of lies, corruption, and conspiracies all abounded. Some called for the mayor's resignation. Some called for a fight against the capital. Some called for drinking all liquor as fast as possible. Everyone shut up when Mila put several tankards down and stepped onto a table before the group.

"Boys, I love this town. I love Blood Bowl. Maybe Mayor Junger should have told us sooner. Maybe not. What would we have done with knowing this a month ago, anyways? But here's what I know- if we don't do something about it, then we have no more Tierheim. I don't want that. We have all known Mayor Junger for years. I've known him my whole life. And in any of that time, has he ever tried to do any of you wrong? Erik, who was the man who put you up in his own house after you burned your own house to the ground?"

"That wasn't my fault, per se," said Erik.

"Who?" said Mila.

"Well, I mean, 'who' is relative right? I mean there were extenuating circumstances of drinking and a possible werewolf, causing-"

"No, shanksucker- who put you up in their house?!"

"Mayor Junger."

Mila continued. "Mr. Kohler, who came to you and said Katrin would make an amazing blitzer and you could finally watch one of your kids play, having six girls and no boy?"

"Mayor Junger."

"Garth, who gave you the advice to take over the Vulgar Tankard and make it your own with no interference from him or others?"

"Mayor Junger."

"So, everyone- please listen to Mayor Junger now. Listen to what Lord Ginter is trying to say and do. Not one of us here trusts him, no offense, my lord, but we should give him the chance to show us what he can do for us."

The crowd quieted and waited for Mayor Junger to speak. "Tryouts are in a week. Lord Ginter is setting up barracks for the players. He's also scheduled meetings with many of us so that we can turn Tierheim around."

"Give me a month, gentlemen," said Sebastian, "and if I can't give you something to show where my intentions lie, then run me out of town on a rail. All I ask is that you give me everything you've got to make this work."

"A month, sir?" asked Mr. Kohler.

"Yes, Mr. Kohler."

"Fine. One month is plenty of time for Erik to craft the most beautiful rail anyone has seen."

Erik said, "Wait- wouldn't we want it to be painful, not beautiful."

"I mean, "said Boris, "it can be both, right? Painful and beautiful?"

"I don't know if that's possible.," said Erik.

"Well, sure. Take Mila for example. She's beautiful and painful."

Mila fumed and balled her fists. "What did you say about me?!"

"I see your point, Boris."

The crowd began to leave the Vulgar Tankard. Some did so silently. Finally, only the staff of the Vulgar Tankard, Mayor Junger, and Sebastian Ginter remained in the tavern.

"Well," said Sebastian, "that could have gone worse."

"They only gave you a month," said Mayor Junger.

"That's no to say it couldn't have gone better, for sure. Well, sleep is for the dead, anyways, right?"

Chapter 11

"Rule number one of business: mind your own."

-Garik Steelhelm, CEO of Steelhelm's Sporting Emporium, from the book, How to Run a Successful Business: First, Buy This Book

"We've got one week until tryouts," said Sebastian.

"Wait a minute," said Garth.

"Yes, Mr. Hairyfists?"

"You want Tierheim to be a destination?"

"That's right."

"The Vulgar Tankard is just like any other place in Averland. And I'm the only place in Tierheim."

"That's right."

Garth stomped his foot on the bar, "And you want me to allow more taverns to open up here?!"

Mayor Junger drained his cup. "First of all, Garth, you don't allow anything here, I do. Secondly, we're on your side."

"Now how in Chaos am I supposed to believe that?!"

Sebastian sat down at the barstool next to Garth's hairy feet. "Garth, competition will give Tierheim a more diverse offering. We said before that we want smart expansion. Any other tavern or restaurant would hinder you if they did anything like you. However, what if a restaurant opened that was nothing like you? They would, of course, be competition, but not as direct as you would think."

"Lothar, give me a tankard," said the angry chef. Lothar pulled one from below the wooden keg and filled it almost to the brim. Garth grabbed it briskly, spilling some of the ale and then took a large swallow. He closed his eyes and started mumbling.

"What are you doing," asked Mila.

"Counting to ten, Mila. So I don't lose my temper."

"Mr. Hairyfists-" started Sebastian before he was cut off.

"-Garth-"

"-Garth. Tierheim needs something more than you can offer, and before you lose that famous temper, please hear me out."

"No offense, Lord Ginter, but you just told me I'm going to lose the only reason I set up in this town and that was the fact I was the only tavern in town."

"Garth- you won't lose anything. In fact, you will gain more than you think," said Mayor Junger.

Garth mumbled more until he spoke with less volume. "Please enlighten me then."

Sebastian said, "I have offered several chefs from various regions around the Old World to start up a business here in Tierheim. With all of you together, this will help bring in new customers. These chefs don't make what you offer. You don't offer what they will provide. Of course, it would be prudent to expand your menu and I am sure you're capable of that. More importantly, we are going to offer you something we are not giving the other businesses the same opportunity to do."

"And what's that?"

Mayor Junger said, "We want to give you the sole contract of catering the team, the stadium, and any Blood Bowl events within Tierheim."

Garth betrayed a hint of a smile. "You don't have a team, a stadium, or Blood Bowl events. Even if you did, how am I going to maintain that level of production? Mila will be on the team and rumor has it that Michael was a kind of wunderkind as an apothecary."

"Good lad, he is," said Mayor Junger.

"So I made the team," said Mila, at the point of shaking with excitement.

Mayor Junger turned to her, "You have to try out like anyone else, Mila."

"I'll make the team," she said.

"So there's another dilemma," said Garth. "I'm losing staff and now I need to produce more."

"That's true. But you will have time," said Sebastian.

"And how about my supplies? I need to order more. Which means I need more money right now. And how do you know I'm even capable of handling a stadium and events?"

Sebastian sipped from his tankard and said, "I have ordered more supplies. They'll be here tomorrow in fact. In six days, we will have people lining up to try out for this team. Once they make the cut, they still need to get paid which means they will need jobs. Until this team can stand on its own and the town can pay them professionally, there will be a contract stating that all players will work for the city of Tierheim. That will solve your shortage until you can hire more. If Mila makes the team, she will still be here serving in the evening and at night, minus away games, of course. As for the size of this deal, I feel you are capable."

"Is that so?" Garth hopped down to the stool next to Sebastian. He finished off his

Tankard and put it down roughly on the bar. "What do you know about taverns- or catering, sir?"

"Very little, I'm afraid," said Sebastian. "But I know people who do. And in my life, I have prided myself in being able to recognize talented people and where to apply them.."

"Please explain, Lord Ginter."

"Of course, Garth. If you increase production, this means there are more customers you need to make happy- specifically Blood Bowl fans. They can be rather rough and fickle. Do you remember when I first ate here?"

"Yes, sir, I do. You sent the food back a million times."

"Hyperbole aside, I did it to check your resolve."

"My resolve?"

"And your ego. I understand I am a nobleman and I have met many people willing to

make me happy, usually in the hope that I separate my money from myself to give to them. I have also met several Halfling Master Chefs. Nobility aside, there aren't many other trades that take themselves as seriously as Master Chefs."

"But I'm not a Master Chef, my lord," said Garth. His eyes searched Sebastian as if waiting for the stool to be pulled from under his butt.

"On the contrary. I sent back food that would have made critics cry in delight. And I sent five of those dishes back, to be more precise. And to top it off, you only served porridge and beef stew. Of course, some of the reason for your success is the quality beef raised here in the area. More importantly, you changed it slightly without a tirade or creating a scene with your staff.. I have found that a noble title doesn't mean much when a Halfling's dish has been disrespected. This means you have a bit of humility. Even more important than that? Patience. And that's what you'll need to feed the stadium. Fans are a dime a dozen. Imagine your noble clientele are also the fans. Believe me, patience with the nobility is almost godly. Ergo, you should do fine with the fickle commoners."

Garth smiled at that. "And you would give me the contract as the sole provider of food to the stadium?"

"Yes, Garth, we would."

Garth motioned to Lothar who filled the tankard again. "You said you ordered the supplies?"

"I did."

"What about my kitchen? It's not big enough to make that much food."

"We will have to create temporary accommodations while we expand your tavern- no cost to you I must add."

"No offense, that's a lot of money."

"None taken, and yes it is. I'm not a boy who fell into money and has holes in his pockets, Garth. Well, I did fall into money but it wasn't as much as many would think. Once you turn a reasonable percentage of profits, enough to make you comfortable, we will switch to repayments at a very reasonable rate. And a payment to keep the contract going. All reasonable, and no, I don't have numbers for you yet, but Mayor Junger and I want you to succeed."

"Why is that?"

Sebastian said, "You make the best beef stew I've ever eaten."

Mayor Junger, "And you make the best stout I've ever had. Although you were a foreigner originally, you're Tierheim through and through now."

Garth took a large pull from his ale. "Mila, you'd better make this team."

"I will, Garth."

"And not get hurt so I have to replace you, too!"

"I won't, Garth."

The Halfling gestured to a table. All three sat down as Mila, Lothar, and Gerta began to clean up. Once situated, Sebastian pulled out a piece of parchment from a satchel. "Now, Garth, just like any other businessman who has roots in Tierheim, we want to explain our purpose here, specifically to your business."

"Taxes, you mean," he said. "Are they going to go up?"

"No. Not for another year. But they will expand to other things," said Mayor Junger.

"Such as?"

Sebastian looked over his papers. "There will be a tax on beer and spirits. A small one, easily affordable, but enough to help recoup our initial investment over time. If any are brewed within town limits, the taxes are halved. If you ever have to import, they will triple. Ingredients to brew will be taxed at the normal rate. We want people to come here for a unique experience, and we want to incentivize businesses to stay here and support Tierheim."

"What does 'incentivize' mean?"

"It means to give you a better reason to want to do it," said Mayor Junger.

"Sounds fine to me," said Garth.

"We also want you to eventually be one of only several places that serves local foods of Tierheim. The chefs I told you before? They are coming here from outside Tierheim."

"What makes you think the locals want to eat at those places, sir?"

"I don't," said Sebastian. "Food is always a gamble."

Mayor Junger said, "Your food's great. But have you ever tried lamb from Bretonnia?"

"Yes," said the Halfling.

"And?"

"Delicious."

Sebastian agreed. "They will compete in the beginning, but you'll get most of your revenue from Blood Bowl. Once more population comes in, especially out of towners, they may want to try various foods."

"So a Bretonnian chef will be here, sir?"

"Yes. And one from Cathay, and one from Barak Varr."

"Barak Varr," asked Garth. "Shanking dwarves. And Cathay? Never had anything from there."

"I'll admit that Cathay is a bit more of a risk. We aren't too far from the Black Mountains, so I am sure there will be some demand for Dwarven home cooking. Cathay, as we all know, might as well be on the two-tailed comet. Either way, the Vulgar Tankard should be the cornerstone for the Tierheim tavern industry."

Garth drained almost all of his tankard and belched. "Where in Chaos did you find these chefs, sir?"

"I'm afraid those stories are long and not particularly interesting," said Sebastian, "but let's just say I poached one from Averheim, one owes me a blood debt, and one I literally walked into on the streets of Marienburg."

"Well, gentlemen," said Mayor Junger, rising, "it's time we get some sleep. We have some busy days ahead of us."

They all raised their steins. "To Tierheim," said Mayor Junger.

"To Tierheim," echoed Sebatsian.

"And to the Tierheim Plowers. Or Hammers, or whatever the town decides," said Garth.

They downed their drinks and all three slammed the empty tankards on the table. "Nuffle help us on that one," said Mayor Junger.

Garth laughed. "We'll need Nuffle's help on more than just that."

Chapter 12

"To give your all for Blood Bowl makes Nuffle smile. To give your life for Blood Bowl… probably also makes Nuffle smile."

-Kalgan Lannersann, Coach of the Elfheim Eagles

Coach Junger strolled with his crutch across the practice field built by Frank and the Oberst Construction and Demolition Company. Frank didn't have too many issues in clearing the pitch due to most of it being dirt with patches of poorly grown grass. Several new benches were placed at the sidelines with buckets of water placed at the ends. The pitch itself was several hundred yards away from the base of the old stadium, where some of Frank's crew were working to demolish the old wooden stands and tower. Sebastian wasn't far behind Coach Junger, chatting with Otto about what the scout had found across Averland during his recruiting forays.

About fifty men and several women milled about at an endzone, some in talks with each other, some stretching, and some simply standing by themselves. Coach Junger stopped to look at them all. Various sizes, heights, and countenances ran through the number of participants.

Coach Junger blew the whistle. Everyone stopped what they were doing and ran towards him. Once there, some kneeled, some stood, and several sat down. "When the bell strikes nine, I want all of you to run on the outside of the posts. You're going to do ten laps. Once done, you will meet me back here."

The bell from town clanged and at the end of the ninth ring, Coach Junger blew his whistle. "Let's go! Ten laps! Now!"

All of them shot out to run. Sebastian and Otto walked up to plant themselves next to Junger. "Good morning, Coach Junger, quite a nice day for a tryout," said Sebastian.

"That it is, sir. A nice day to watch some men cry, too," said Junger. "Morning, Otto. How'd you sleep?"

"Well enough. Wish I didn't have to get up so early. Sorry I didn't come to see you last night to compare notes but I didn't want to wake you, and if I'm honest, I'm a bit horse-lagged."

"Probably could have called on me. I'm sure I was up. I never sleep before a big day of Blood Bowl."

"At any rate, Coach, I can compare notes with you as you see fit for the rest of the day or did you want me to take a look at the Ogre you both were thinking about?"

"No need," said the coach, his eyes following the players, trying to see which ones would cut corners. "He's on his way. He just got back from a cattle drive."

"Ah. Very well."

After the second lap, the pack started to spread. The larger ones began to find their way toward the back while the leaner ones spaced out between the front and middle. Mila and Lukas led the group for now- Felix, Sigmund, Wotan, and Katrin were in the middle. Fritz, Joachim, and Jon the Mouth were towards the back.

"Faster, let's go, you runts!" said Coach Junger as the players passed him.

Michael came running up with one of his friends to Coach Junger. "Michael, did you and Tomas set up the sprint posts?"

"Yes, coach."

"Forty yards apart?"

"Yes, coach."

"Good lad. Are the tackle dummies in place?"

"Yes, coach."

"Okay, stay around the sideline and wait for me to call you."

Michael and Tomas jogged off to sit on one of the benches. They both took a ladle of water from one of the buckets and drank.

As the ten lap exercise came to a close, Lukas and another player finished after they turned the last post at the corner of the endzone breathing hard. Mila and several others came next. Over the course of the next few minutes, the rest of the players filed in, several out of shape ones collapsing.

Coach Junger blew his whistle. "Line up on the endzone line!"

The men and women sauntered over and soon Coach Junger was pairing people up, keeping them as close in physical size as he could. It was a stretch to find someone for Mila, but he found a young man who was only an inch or so taller. "The person next to you is your partner for the rest of the day! Get to know this person! Now take your partner and line up beside each other. The next pair will stand behind so that we have a line of pairs. Each time I blow the whistle, the two of you will sprint towards the post with the red flags attached to them. Once you reach those posts, you can walk back together and get back in line!"

Coach Junger blew the whistle which immediately sent Lukas and his partner racing for the red-flagged post. Once they reached halfway, he blew his whistle for the next pair. This happened for five circuits. Once they were all done, almost all of them were heaving. One large man threw up, creating groans from the fellow players.

Coach Junger stood in front of them. "Welcome to Tierheim, boys and girls. We're starting a brand new team here, and I want the best this town and Averland has to offer. If at any point, you don't think you can make it, by all means, go home and don't waste my time or yours. The next few days are not going to be easy. I'm looking to make a team that will be the baddest sons of shanks this side of the Empire. You will be going against Orcs. Beastmen. Rotters. Werewolves. Ogres. Trolls. Minotaurs. If you think you still have what it takes to block them man to man and still take care of your team, then stay right where you are. If not, have fun doing whatever in Chaos you were doing before you got here. Now, some of you may still think you have what it takes because you're tough. Some of you actually look it. Let's see if we can separate some of you from the herd."

Coach Junger raised his crutch that had a yellow and black flag attached to it. Frank, who was standing off to the side, took his finger and placed them in his mouth and whistled. From around the small building came three Ogres. They wore patchworked coveralls and were dressed in padded wrappings around their arms, from their shoulders to their forearms. The recruits stood straight up with many of them sporting nervous looks.

"These here are my friends," said the coach. "Get back in your pairs. I am splitting the pairs up into three lines. When I blow the whistle, I want you to block your designated ogre. They will hit you only with their padded arms. Once you get off your arses, make your way to the back of the line. Any questions?"

When the whistle blew the pairs raced towards the ogres. Katrin and Sigmund made hard blocks that caused their Ogre to be pushed back, though he maintained his footing. As for the two of them, they more or less bounced off a couple of feet, also maintaining their feet. The other two pairs, Mila and the short man ran at theirs. The man went for a shoulder block while Mila went for a drop kick. As expected, the Ogre swatted them away, but Mila was able to stay on her feet. The short player got up slowly and moved in pain towards the line. After the third whistle, the players towards the back tried to be more clever and either jumped with their whole body sideways, or did just enough to get brushed off.

"Block those Ogres, you pansies! There's no room for fear on the field! You show fear on this pitch and I'll show you a face full of scars! Now, block them, for Nuffle's sake!" Coach Junger shouted.

The emboldened players acted a little more aggressively, but not by much. Jon the Mouth, the consummate cheerleader, clapped his hands and egged on his fellow tryout team. Along with Jon the Mouth was his partner who was just as enthusiastic, albeit slightly different.

Jon the Mouth yelled, "Let's go, boys! We got this! Woooo!"

His partner yelled, "Let's kill 'em! Kill 'em all! You wanna live forever, you shanks?! Stop being a bunch of cowards!"

When it was their turn, they both yelled and sprinted. Both men slammed into the Ogre at full speed, pushing him back. They both were smashed to the ground. Jon the Mouth seemed to be sleeping even before he hit the ground. The other guy sprang up as if he landed on a box of springs. Blood ran from his broken nose. "That's what I'm talking about! Woooooo!"

He then ran to Jon the Mouth, grabbed him by the collar and dragged him to the back of the line, all the while challenging to see some real Blood Bowl players. "Let's go, kids! Show them you ain't scared for shank!"

"Who is that," asked Coach Junger.

Otto laughed, "That's Karl."

"Karl who?"

"I dunno. Just Karl."

Karl dragged the dead weight of Jon the Mouth as the line moved up. "Get up, boy! Time to make mama proud!"

Coach Junger looked at Otto. "I like him. Crazy?"

Otto said, "Most likely."

After that show from Karl, the hits from the other recruits started to become actual hits. Players still got bashed down, but many more just got back up. "Coach!" yelled Karl. "Can we really try to knock them down?"

"If you think you have it in you!" the coach yelled back.

A strange cackle emanated from Karl. Jon the Mouth regained his consciousness in time to orient himself when it was their turn to block the Ogre again. As they ran, Karl shoved Jon the Mouth straight into the arms of the Ogre. When his right arm connected with Jon the Mouth, two things happened simultaneously. Jon the Mouth was thrown back several yards while Karl dodged to the left ready to exploit the opening that was created. Karl then leapt at the Ogre's open side and brought his two clasped hands down on the Ogre's head. The Ogre fell to the ground and Karl whooped. "We got him, Jonny-boy! That's teamwork, baby!"

"I really like him," said Coach Junger.

Claps came from the players as Karl dragged the twice unconscious Jon the Mouth back to the end of the line. Cheers erupted again when Katrin and Sigmund knocked their Ogre down. One of the players, who was darker-skinned than the others, caught the attention of the coach. Every time he was knocked down to the ground, no matter how hard he was hit, he would jump right up and trot to the back of the line.

"The darker-skinned guy," said Coach Junger. "Who is he?"

Otto spoke without looking up. "Oskar Roja."

"Tilean?" asked Sebastian, looking up from his notes.

"Half, I think," said Otto. "Met him in Merfeld. Seemed like a hardy fellow."

"He's hardy alright," said Coach Junger.

They watched Oskar as he dodged the first swing of his Ogre, pivoted, and then slammed his shoulder into the Ogre's ribs. The Ogre seemed to lose his composure, grabbing Oskar with both hands, lifting him up, and slamming him to the pitch. "Holy shank!" yelled Otto.

Gasps from the players could be heard to the three men, but before anyone could do anything, Osar jumped right back up and trotted to the back of the line. "He's extremely hardy," said Sebastian. "Maybe he's favored by Nuffle."

Otto replied, "If that was me, I'd be much lighter having crapped myself."

After that spectacle, Coach Junger blew long on the whistle. "Alright, men and women, get some water and be back in five!"

The coach turned to Otto and Sebastian who pointed behind the benches. About a dozen players were already leaving the pitch. "Well, coach, it hasn't even been two hours and we have some slinking away."

Otto said, "Well, none of those are mine."

"Most are local," said Coach Junger.

"What's next," asked Sebastian.

"We find out who has the hands and who doesn't," said Coach Junger. "Frank!"

Frank turned as he was walking away from the pitch with his Ogres. "What?"

"Thanks for the help, mate!"

Frank put his thumb in the air. "No problem! Let me know if you need them again!"

Coach Junger put his thumb up in the air in recognition. "Alright, let's get them lined up- Michael!"

Michael and Tomas ran as fast as they could to the coach. Clearly excited by the tryouts, they were nearly hopping from foot to foot in front of the three men. "Grab the bag with the colored sacks and bring them to me please."

"Yes, coach!" they yelled in unison.

Coach Junger blew the whistle. All of the players ran towards him and stopped about ten yards from him. "Well done, all of you, but we sure as Chaos are not out of the woods yet."

Chapter 13

"I remember my first day of tryouts as clear as yesterday. We did some things, I think, and things were said, I'm pretty sure, and I got my white and gold jersey. Or it was black and blue. Something like that."

-Flint Churnblade, in an interview about his career before The Karak Wanderers

Michael and Tomas came back with the bag. "In this sack are white and black tunics," said Coach Junger. "When I hand them to you, put them on. Defense is black, Offense is white. We're going to do some drills. First off, if you prefer defense- step forward."

Coach Junger handed black tunics to Katrin, Sigmund, Mila, Wotan, Joachim, Karl, and a dozen others. "Now, if you prefer to be a thrower, step forward."

The coach picked out white jerseys with an "X" painted in blue on them. He handed them to Felix and about four others. The rest, he tossed white jerseys to, including Jon the Mouth and Lukas. The coach walked to the center of the field followed by players in a mix of black and white tunics. He put his hands up and Michael tossed him a ball. Coach Junger placed it on the midfield line. He counted out ten paces towards one of the endzones. "Throwers will start here."

Tomas put a small post into the ground with Michael doing the same about thirty paces from each other. The two boys tied a rope to connect the posts, creating a rope barricade. Coach Junger marched ten paces towards the sidelines. Michael and Tomas repeated the post and ribbon tying only four paces from each other. "Catchers will start here, between the two posts."

Coach Junger counted ten paces towards the opposite sideline. Posts and ropes were put in place four paces apart. "Defenders start here on the other side of this rope. When I blow the whistle, each position will jump over the rope. The catchers will get to an open position. The defenders will have to cut back and chase the catchers. The throwers sprint to the ball, grab it, and throw to an open catcher. Any questions?"

Karl raised his hand. "Hit like a real game?"

"Absolutely," replied the coach.

Karl pumped his fist in excitement. Coach Junger said, "Let's go- to positions!"

Black tunics and white tunics lined up behind their designated areas. The first group was Katrin on defense, Felix as thrower, and Lukas as catcher. The whistle blew and the three lunged. Lukas chose to run straight down the line forcing Katrin to hoof it as fast as she could to catch him. Felix grabbed the ball and tossed it downfield but it ended up a bit short, so Lukas quickly cut back to grab it. In doing so, Katrin was on immediately threatening him but he spun just as she threw her shoulder and only clipped him. He then raced to the endzone without a problem. Katrin pounded her fist into the ground while Lukas showed off his toothy grin..

After several tries, some people tripped over the rope, or the thrower bumbled the ball, or the catcher was caught getting hit before he could catch. Mila tackled her man who had clearly underestimated her size until she latched onto his arm and used her momentum to pull him to the ground. Wotan missed his man, while Joachim tackled his..

Next up was Felix again with Karl on defense and Jon the Mouth as catcher. When the whistle blew, Karl was already passing the thrower as he was running to pick the ball up. He pointed at Felix, "You're next, boy! Ha ha ha!"

This caused Felix to flinch, giving Karl enough time to chase Jon the Mouth down. Felix regained his composure and looked towards the catcher who was slightly ahead of a jeering Karl. The ball was thrown with only a slight lead, so Karl dug in and intercepted it with one hand, punching Jon the Mouth in the jaw with his free fist. Karl then ran towards Felix, "I told you you were next!"

Felix stood his ground more out of bewilderment and possibly fear ready to take a hit until Karl stopped a yard from him. Felix stared at him in relief.

"Why did you stop," asked Coach Junger.

"You didn't say we could hit the thrower, coach!"

"You're right, don't hit the thrower."

Felix laughed and held his hands to the side, clearly cocky from the pronouncement.

"What about hitting him with the ball, coach?" asked Karl.

"That's fine," said Junger.

Felix stopped laughing immediately and Karl beamed him with the ball. Had it been a game ball with spikes, it might have done real damage but only ended giving Feliz a bloody nose. "Whoooo!"

"Felix, maybe next time, you won't throw another interception. And, Karl?"

"Yes, coach?"

"Pull Jon the Mouth to the sideline, please."

The whistle blew and the next group came up. Lukas was the catcher again facing off against Sigmund. The new thrower was fairly young with bright, red hair and read the speed of Lukas. While Sigmund was fast, Lukas was faster. The thrower bulleted the ball just in front of where Lukas could reach and catch it without losing his speed. Lukas scored another touchdown. He spiked the ball to the ground and said, "C'mon, Sigmund, you're making me look better than I already do!"

Sigmund laughed while flicking him off.

Coach Junger, Sebastian, and Otto chuckled together. Sebastian had been checking some of his parchments during the practice and had many with marks populating a lot of the paper. Sebastian and Otto were comparing notes when Coach Junger said to them, "Otto, you didn't find us a professional thrower did you?"

"No, I didn't. They are harder to find than you think. Felix looks decent, though. As does that young, ginger kid."

"Felix is decent enough but he still seems to have some jitters," said the coach. "Who's the ginger? He seems real promising"

"I dunno," said Otto. "I've never seen him before. Hey, kid!"

Several heads turned. "The ginger one! Yeah, you. What's your name?"

"Dennis, coach! Dennis Voller! Did you need me?"

"No," Coach Junger said. He turned back to Sebastian and Otto. "Where the Chaos is he from? Not Tierheim. And not from Otto."

"Maybe the bulletins around other towns," asked Sebastian.

"Maybe." Coach Junger stepped to the middle of the field again and said, "Switch! Defense to the offense side, and offense to the defense side. If you play Blood Bowl and you want to win, you must be both defense and offense at the drop of a hat!"

With the same drill, some of the lineman showed their poor ball handling skills and several of the offense had very poor tackling skills. Felix and Dennis seemed to be more consistent than the others in finding their marks, though they still needed some desperate training.

Every time the ball went to Karl, he either dropped it or focused hitting any of the linemen.. Each time he failed a tackle, which wasn't often, he cursed himself. Mila only fared slightly better. She found ways to not be tackled but suffered in throwing. Sigmund, Katrin, and Wotan seemed to do okay, but Joachim struggled to keep up with his running speed.

By the time the sun was at its peak, the tryout for the day was over. Michael and Tomas had to help Garth and Lothar bring a cart of food to the sidelines. Another cart was pulled by Gerta and Reuger, filled with buckets of water. The players were tired and lunged on the ground, eating slowly and drinking the water heavily.

Coach Junger, Sebastian, and Otto, stood in the endzone. "First cut," said Junger. "You gentlemen ready?"

Otto, nodded. "Sure."

Sebastian nodded. "I am."

The three men turned and walked to the players at the benches. Otto grabbed a bag that was sitting in the water cart and yanked it out. The players stood awaiting their judgement. Coach Junger began. "In this bag are twenty four jerseys. They each have a number on them. If I throw you a jersey, you will show up here at the same time tomorrow morning. If I do not, I'm sorry, but you didn't make it through this time around. However, tryouts will be held again next year."

Since Coach Junger couldn't quite pull out the jerseys while he was on his crutch, he pointed at the players who made the cut while Sebastian reached into the bag held by Otto and tossed them the jersey.

Mila held hers close. Sigmund raised his chin in thanks. Katrin smiled large. Felix thanked the coach. Dennis held his jersey in prayer. Wotan breathed a sigh of relief, as did Joachim. Lukas was unsurprised as if his spot was already decided. Karl yelled, "YES!"

Twenty-four players held jerseys in their hands. By the end of the next day, only twelve would have a spot on the team.

Chapter 14

"A great discourse always compliments the food course no matter the source. Of course, when drinking with force with coarse discourse, a course in force could lead to remorse."

-Bartweed Crumbleberry, player of the Greenfield Grasshuggers, and author of The Life and Times of an Imbibing Scribe

The Vulgar Tankard was packed again. While a little less than half of the players made the cut, most of those that were cut needed a drink to help ease their disappointment. Garth helped their despair by offering a free meal before they made their way back home later that night or the next morning. A few of them were in better spirits but most were sullen or angry. Many had voiced their disgust or were appalled by how stupid and shortsighted the coaches were.

Mila had heard all of these complaints because she had to work. Her body still ached from the intense practice but she felt that moving around the tables and floor would help her feel less stiff in the morning. Some of the non-chosen recognized her and while most left her alone, a few did not. Specifically, the table of three men who were upset that a dainty thing like Mila had made the cut for a team that played the manliest sport ever created. As the drinks flowed, so did their mouths. As with all men who can't seem to keep their liquor, their manners were displaced with a deceptive stupidity that masked itself as courage.

"Ey, girl, how's about you taking off early and we will see if you can dodge my tackle," said one.

"Sorry boys," she said, "I only date men who can make the cut."

"Make the cut of some shanky team in the middle of this shankhole? Backwards country bumpkins don't know what real sport is."

"Interesting, since some of those bumpkins left you flat on the field," Mila smirked.

"Ey!" the man yelled as he grabbed her wrist and yanked her forward. "Don't think because you slept with your coach that it makes you some sort of real player."

Silence descended on this half of the room, which was close to the door. Mila uttered her words with a deliberate slowness and pronounced enunciation, "What did you just say to me?"

The man smiled. "I said that if it wasn't for your skirt and unlocking knees, you wouldn't have ever gotten a shirt."

"It's time you let her go," said a man with a black eye. He walked up and when he did, the other two men at the table stood up. "Relax, boys. Let's all have a drink and just be happy we got to play some ball."

Mila snapped. "I don't need your help. These idiots are a piece of cake."

"Oh, I know," he said, "but my mama said if I ever laid an ill hand on a woman, well, that would make me the lowest man in the Empire. My name's Oskar, by the way. You're Mila, right?"

"Are you serious right now?" She looked at him closer. She recognized him from the tryouts. The only reason she did was because even though he was repeatedly hit- he always sprang back up, no matter how hard he was knocked down. His flat nose and several scars indicated he must have been accustomed to taking a few hits..

"Well, I mean, now's as good a time as any. You did great, today, by the way."

"Who the Chaos are you?" asked the third man.

"Wow, boys. I literally just said my name several sentences ago."

"Dammit, I meant who do you think you are."

"I am Oskar, a man with a numbered shirt, shankwad. How about you?"

The man slugged him across the face. Oskar took the hit, his face almost immediately snapping back to stare the man in the face. He was smiling as a trickle of blood began to flow out of nose. "Didn't anyone ever tell you to never get in a fight with a man with a flat nose? Besides, I heard in this town fistfights are for wimps. I would say we should take it out on the field, but, you know, you didn't earn the right to go back."

The man leaned back for another punch so Oskar spit blood in the man's face and then kicked him in the groin. When the assailant bent over, Oskar kneed him in the face. This broke Mila out of her trance as well as the two men standing in front of her. One walked towards her, so naturally she struck his neck with her empty tray.. He stumbled back trying to breathe. The last man standing, placed a couple of coins on the table, sort of put up his hands in a surrendering gesture, and simply walked around the table and out of the door, keeping his hands high the whole time.

Oskar bent down to the unconscious man and fished through his pockets. Finding what he was looking for, he dumped a few coins onto the table and dragged him out of the door.

Mila was walking the coughing man out of the door.. Mila said, "I told you I didn't need your help."

Oskar said, "I told you I knew that. I'm neither deaf nor dumb, although I am sure I look it." Oskar walked to the table, grabbed the three steins, peered in them, and then poured two of them into the remaining one. "Well, that's one way to get a free drink. Oh, Mila, could I get the stew? I hear it's a banger."

Mila stood in complete confusion at Oskar. "Sure. Coming right up."

Sigmund had watched the interaction along with everyone else in the tavern, a content smile on his face. He had known Mila all of his life and knew she might get herself in big trouble some time. Today wasn't that moment, though. He began to pick the beef pieces out of his stew and place them on an empty plate. Wotan and Jon the Mouth stared at him. Wotan asked, "Why are you doing that, Siggy?"

"Don't care for meat."

"It's beef stew. 'Beef' is in the name."

"Don't like the taste of beef. Don't like the way it feels in my mouth."

Jon the Mouth leaned forward, "Then how the Chaos did you get so big?"

"Dunno. Potatoes?"

Wotan asked between bites of his stew how Jon the Mouth was doing, after not getting picked for the team.

"It stinks. I've been busting my butt for a long time to play. I finally make it to play on the weekends but can't make the team when we finally get one."

"I get you. I may be with you after tomorrow. Sigmund, too." They both looked at the large blitzer who just shook his head. "I didn't do too hot today."

"I think you'll be fine, Wotan," said Jon the Mouth. I need to ask Mayor Junger and see if there's anything else I can do. Or maybe Lord Ginter or something.``

Sigmund said, "I don't trust him."

Wotan nodded. "Me neither. Who just comes into some rinky-dink town and throws money around without expecting anything in return?"

Jon the Mouth said, "Maybe he's on the up and up. Maybe he just wants a project or something. He doesn't seem too bad. Rich people do weird things with their money sometimes. Remember Count Dorphus in Heideck? Bought a section of the Dwarven catacombs underneath to set up all those statues he got from around the world?"

"I heard he has people arrange them so it looks like they are interacting with each other. Even built fake shops down there. Like a stone town or something. Jon the Mouth, you have to admit it's weird having him already making decisions around town," said Wotan.

"He has the money. He's going to rebuild the field," said Jon the Mouth.

"And then own the town after that?" asked Wotan.

"And then us," said Sigmund.

"You guys remember that in a year there may not be a town. I mean, there'll still be Tierheim but if we lose that charter, some shankhead from Averheim will be telling us what to do, anyways" Jon the Mouth said with his mouth full of stew. "Or, Count Dorphus might run us, too. Then there will be statues everywhere here, too."

Sigmund said, "Good timing, with the charter."

Wotan nodded, "Yeah."

"What do you mean," asked Jon the Mouth..

"Rich guy shows up," said Wotan, pushing his bowl away, "buys up stuff just as our charter is under review. Maybe he sets it up for us to fail, and it turns out he's Averheim's choice in running things."

Jon the Mouth stared at them and then shook his head. "Nah. Not buying it. Sounds like some conspiracy shank. Next you'll tell me we never went to the New World."

Wotan laughed, "What they do now with those Camras- could have been faked. Who is that guy? Davos Altenburg?" Wotan mocked an Altdorf accent, 'Look there, Lizardmen in their natural environment'! Yeah, right."

"You know they exist, right," asked Jon the Mouth.

"Yeah, but they're not from across the vast ocean," said Wotan.

"Then where are they from?"

"The government. Altdorf's been keeping experiments behind closed doors, creating a new species so they can use them to take over the world, if they don't already."

"Do you believe this, Sigmund," Jon the Mouth said, turning towards the larger man..

"Don't know. Don't care."

"Mark my words, Jonny, they'll all be coming for us after practicing their conquering tactics by playing against us in sport. They dominate Blood Bowl- and then- the world."

"Or, you know, they just play Blood Bowl like everyone else," said Jon the Mouth.

Wotan squinted his eyes. "We'll see.."

Felix and Dennis sat at the bar, sipping on simple wine. Dennis wanted to drink a heavier brew, but Felix warned him that there would be tryouts again tomorrow. Felix discussed Tierheim with Dennis, who was from Pfungzig, as it turned out. "Tierheim isn't small, maybe a quarter of the size of Grenzstadt and a quarter of their populace, but if you add in the surrounding countryside- we can double Tierheim's population. So like Pfungzig, almost everyone knows everyone. What does your family do, Dennis?"

"We're brewers."

"Yeah? What kind?

"Mostly stouts. We like a really dark ale. In fact, that's why I even knew about this place. Lord Ginter asked my family about coming here to set up a brewing operation."

"Will your family move here?"

"Some of them," Dennis said, sipping the wine. "Some will never leave Pfungzig. Some of us Vollers want to see the world a little."

"So you chose to move to another small town for that?"

Dennis chuckled, "Yeah, we're not the brightest. So, what do you think my chances are?"

Felix sipped his tankard. "About as good as mine."

"You've played with them before, I'm sure you'll have made it."

"Then we both better up our game. I don't know if you noticed, but we may be the weak link."

"Oh, man. Seriously?"

"Well, Sigmund and Katrin will make the team, for sure. That's two blitzers that are pretty good. Lukas will be on for sure-"

"For Nuffle's sake, Felix, stop bragging about me," said Lukas sidling up to the bar. "Draw a picture, so it lasts longer."

Felix laughed. "Where have you been? I thought you said you would be here an hour ago."

"I thought Gertrude would be home, excited I made the team."

"The first cut, you mean," said Dennis.

"As far as she's concerned, at any rate. Did I miss anything?"

Dennis pointed to where Oskar sat by himself, drinking from a stein. "Well, Oskar and Mila got into it with a couple of sore losers."

Lukas looked to where Dennis pointed. "That guy's Oskar? I'm guessing he and Mila did okay for themselves. She's a gunpowder sack and he seems to be able to take a hit without a problem."

"That sums it up pretty well, actually," said Felix.

"Do fights always happen in bars here? Back home, we just drink, sing, and laugh," said Dennis.

Lukas gestured to Lothar for an ale. "Of course. Lots of people, booze, and a ton of locals. That's about all you need for tough guys who need to let everyone know they're tough.."

Felix toasted Lukas. "Other than that, the stew's good. So's the porridge. Garth had Reuger grill up some sausages for us as well."

"Sounds great. I'm starving," said Lukas.

"So, Gertrude, hunh?" asked Felix.

Felix leaned in and said, "Gertrude Holstein?"

Lukas nodded. "Yep."

"Isn't she betrothed to Franz Vorbeck?"

"Yep."

"I really hope that doesn't bite you in the future," said Felix.

"Yep."

Sebastian, Otto, and Mayor Junger sat on the deck of the nobleman's house, eating off of a tray laden with fruits and cheeses. Each had a glass of wine except for Mayor Junger, who had a tankard of ale. Leon had two glasses in front of him, having just returned from the conclusion of the SEXC, the Stirland Explosion Cup, in Franzen, just across the river Aver.

"The Streissen Rebels defeated the Averland Knights, one to nil. Their new player, Griff Oberwald scored the winning touchdown. Rumor has it that the Reikland Reavers are scouting out Oberwald. This now makes the Streissen Rebels the best in the SEXC," said Sebastian.

"For the moment," said Mayor Junger. "Oberwald's no Harry Kehry or Jeremia Kool. He still needs to be tested."

"We can try to play them," asked Otto.

"Of course, we will," said Sebastian. "I just hope not yet. They may not play us until we have a few matches under our belt."

"And we would have to visit them," said Mayor Junger. "Even if we did have a field."

"Until then," said Sebastian, "I will set up a meeting with the NAF to register the team. Are we still thinking of twelve players?"

Otto said, "Why not a full sixteen? They're cheap right now and we could use the extra reserves. Sort of weird, asking about a limit on players. Still not used to it."

"I feel the same. How many players did the Grasshuggers lose,"asked Sebastian.

Leon used his fingers to show the numbers, seven, four, and three. "Seven hundred and forty-three is a lot of halflings," said Otto. "I wonder how much blood was on the uniforms of the Asgard Ravens? Must have had to replace their whole set of uniforms."

Mayor Junger swallowed some cheese. "The answer to your question is, 'We'll see.' We could take sixteen, actually. Depends on how the tryout goes. What good is having four men in reserves and they all stink? Besides, we still need room for an Ogre."

Otto asked, "How's that going?"

Sebastian sipped his wine. "He's here, actually. Camping out at the old pitch. I think he knew one of Frank's Ogres, so they were catching up on old times, or whatever Ogres talk about amongst each other. He'll be here tomorrow."

"I assume he hasn't played before," said Otto.

"Nope," said Mayor Junger. "We'll need to train him."

"I hope he doesn't kill any players before they make the team," said Otto.

"We have a plan," said Sebastian. "I'm sure it'll work. Right, Leon."

Leon shrugged and they all took a draft of their drinks at the same time.

Karl saw the cattle in the distance of the moonlight. All of them stood so still they could have been etched in stone. Averland cattle were well known amongst the Empire as having the best meat. Part of that was because of their diet and how they moved constantly. That energy gave them tender meat and less fat. They were also more aggressive and a bit more stubborn than other cattle, which may be why all of Averland wasn't turned entirely into grazing land.

But this was personal. The offense had been given and Karl was ready for payback. No one ever treated Karl this way and didn't receive some sort of retribution. And that steer, the way he eyed Karl when he came into town, staring at him and looking at him as if he was just a fly on his tail. And then the steer huffed three times. When Karl challenged him after the third snort, the steer simply turned, dumped several huge turds, and walked away.

No, this affront would not go unpunished. Karl slowly and silently moved through the herd searching for the offender. The cows were still statuesque and the slight sliver of moonlight illuminated the field. Peering around a heifer, Karl spotted him. Standing in a circle, acting as if he was lord of the land. Karl had something to say about that. He would wipe that stupid steer smirk off of his face. Karl moved back behind the heifer to tighten his gloves and helmet. When he peered back around the cow, he was almost face to face with the steer. Before he could move, the steer headbutted him in his chest. The sudden movement caused the heifer to spin and kick out with her legs.

Karl tumbled to the ground, a little soft from the mud. "Round one to you, Chaos-spawn," he mumbled. Karl looked once more at the sliver of moon before he closed his eyes, having cursed himself for underestimating his opponent.

Chapter 15

"From the first time I played Blood Bowl until now, I have always loved the excitement of putting on my gear and beating the Chaos out of everyone- teammates included!"

-Lord Borak the Despoiler, from his eighth autobiography, I Know Why the Caged Wardancer Screams

Twenty-four players stood in a line in front of Coach Junger, Otto, Sebastian, and Leon. The coach walked up and down in front of them and said, "Last day, boys and girls. Show us something good- dedication, grit- all of it. More importantly, show us teamwork."

He stopped in front of Karl who looked like he rolled in mud and smelled like dung. Coach Junger leaned forward and smelled deeper. After staring at Karl for several seconds, who smiled with sort of white teeth that contrasted starkly against the muck on his face, he said, "We're going to run some simple plays. One through twelve, you'll kick off to thirteen through twenty-four. One through twelve, grab some red flags and tie them to your belts on the front and sides."

Both sides were suited up and ready to scrimmage. A loud crash reverberated across the skyline. The press box at the top of the hill was no longer standing pitifully. It had finally met its grave. Dust was still forming around the crash site. Frank came down followed by a lone Ogre. As they made their way down the hill, they noticed the Ogre absent-mindedly picking his nose. He wore the overalls of the Oberst Contracting Company, sans sleeves. Coach Junger leaned back and shouted, "Michael!"

Michael and Tomas raced to Headquarters, the name they gave the two roomed building at the practice field used for a makeshift office and storage. Frank and the Ogre stopped in front of the players and reached out his hand, "Lord Ginter."

"Frank," Sebastian said, accepting the handshake."

"Coach."

"Frank."

"Leon."

Leon nodded and shook his hand.

"And you are?" asked Frank.

"Otto Klinnsmann," said the scout. They shook hands.

The Ogre seemed confused a bit at the exchanges so he extended his hand as well and said, "Hello."

Sebastian reached out but Leon grabbed the nobleman's arm, shaking his head. The Ogre pulled his hand back.

"Better not," said Coach Junger. "Untrained ogres may accidentally hurt someone. This is Bovva. He just got back from the cattle drive and apparently works for Frank."

"Just for a small project today," said Frank.

"Like the demolition of the stadium?" asked Otto.

"Yeah," Frank said. "Not as much there as you would have thought. My crew will try to have the wood removed and you said to give it to the town hall, right?"

Coach Junger said, "Right. I have a bunch of townsfolk who will chop up it for firewood to store for winter."

"Perfect. Alright, Bovva, it was great meeting you and thanks for the help. I will give your pay to Coach Junger." Frank made a huge gesture of pointing at the old man with the crutch. "This is Coach Junger. He will have your pay so you don't forget."

"Okay, boss," said Bovva. "Thanks, boss."

"Good luck, gentlemen, and if you need my other three for practice, let me know. Nice meeting you, Otto."

They all waved and watched Frank walk off. Bovva looked around at everyone and at the players behind the men. Coach Junger turned and said, "Ten laps!"

The whistle blew and the ogre watched them go. "Do I go too?"

"No, Bovva. We need you to get suited up," said Junger.

"Okay, boss."

"Call me 'Coach'."

"Okay, boss."

"We'll work on that later. Right now, let's get you ready to practice."

Michael and Tomas began to unload the small wagon. They pulled out massive pads sewn together. The stitching was clearly homemade and the padding didn't look like it was ever worn. "And your idea is that Bovva will wear the pads, sir?" asked Otto.

Sebastian smiled. "Yes. Inside the stitching is a mix of cotton and wool, just like a lot of other pads but these are increased so that he doesn't hurt the players. In fact, I have massive gloves for him to wear so he doesn't break anyone's bones when he hits them."

"Alright, Big Guy," said Junger, we're going to put these on you for now. Let us know if anything doesn't fit well."

"Okay, boss."

It took everyone there to dress Bovva; between holding the pads in place and tightening the straps while the rest of the players ran their laps, it took longer than expected. They finished putting together the patchwork padding on Bovva just as the other players finished their laps. The twenty-four players either bent over breathing hard or spent the lull in stretching their backs.

"This is Bovva, the Ogre," said Coach Junger.

Bovva sort of put out his hand again for a handshake but then settled for an awkward wave. It was even more awkward with his massive padding which almost made him look like a comical balloon man in heavy snow suits. Only his head was uncovered.. This drew a few chuckles from Lukas and a couple of others. "Bovva, let's see if your suit works. That pretty boy right there," said Sebastian. "His name is Lukas. And Lukas laughed at you."

Bovva's gaze followed Lord Ginter's finger towards Lukas. "Okay, boss."

The Ogre walked over to Lukas who still had a bit of a nervous smile. The players around him stepped to the side, leaving the pretty boy alone with Bovva. Lukas wasn't smiling now. Bovva swung his arm and connected with Lukas's side, causing him to be flung several yards away.

Coach Junger hobbled on his crutch over to Lukas. Bending over the catcher, he said, "How do you feel?"

"That hurt, coach."

"Imagine if he had some armor on him."

"No, thanks."

Coach Junger stood erect and said, "Now it's time for a scrimmage! One through twelve set up on that side to receive. Thirteen through twenty-four, on this side to kick off. Move! Bovva, you will be on offense. Sigmund!"

"Yes, coach!" Sigmund ran and stopped just in front of Bovva and the old man.

"Bovva, this is Sigmund. He will tell you what you need to do and where you need to go until you can do it on your own. Got it?"

"Okay, boss." He stuck his hand out for a handshake and Sigmund used both of his hands to move his padded hand up and down.

"Come with me, Bovva." Sigmund turned and walked to the midfield while Bovva followed. Coach Junger watched after them. He could see Sigmund introducing Bovva to Wotan and the lineman did the same as Sigmund had with his handshake.

Eleven players organized themselves on the pitch. Three substitutes watched and waited along with Sebastian, Leon, Otto, and Coach Junger. Both sides lined up across from each other at midfield. Coach Junger yelled, "I want you all to play as if this was an actual game! But- when I blow the whistle, I want everyone to stop immediately!" The coach, the nobleman, the scout, and the servant stood on the sideline at midfield. The whistle blew and the kicker booted it high in the air.

"Nice distance," said Otto.

"A bit too much of a high kick for me, but, " said the coach, "good power."

The blocks ran up and down the line. Oskar and Karl slammed against Bovva, knocking him over. Katrin and Sigmund met head to head while Wotan and Joachim faced off against each other. Felix caught the ball even though he was closer to the line and a little out of position, but thanks to the hang time of the ball, he found it easier to get under it. Mila began to run downfield as did Lukas. Karl pushed away from Oskar and bolted for Felix. Pressured, the thrower hurled it downfield towards Lukas. The catcher caught the ball easily but was immediately tackled by the kicker and Dennis. The ball came loose and Oskar picked it up.

Looking around, he motioned for the team to cage him up. Dennis was just behind him, watching for flankers while Joachim was able to break free to run point when Wotan tripped over the Ogre. Through the gap, Mila found a way to launch herself at Oskar, bringing him down and stripping the ball from his hands. She ended on top of him in the tackle. "Better watch out," she said standing up.

"I'll make sure I don't close my eyes again," said Oskar.

She stepped on his chest to run after Dennis who had picked up the ball. He looked around and saw Sigmund slam into the kicker. With his immediate teammate down, Dennis dodged around the other players as they rolled and raced for the endzone. Somehow, the Ogre was chasing Dennis and was much closer than expected; Dennis more or less feeling the pounding of the ground rather than hearing the Big Guy. Karl raced up behind the Bovva and threw himself into the legs of the Ogre. Bovva toppled and Dennis ran in for a touchdown.

The whistle blew. "Reset!"

The teams came back to the line. This time, Bovva's side was to receive again. "Katrin! Come out for this guy."

"My name's Ulster, sir."

"That's fine."

Katrin clearly looked a bit peeved coming off the field. "Did I do anything wrong, coach?"

"No, not really, but I'm not really worried if you'll make the cut or not, and I need to see 'what's-his-name' do something."

The player turned and said, "Ulster!"

"Right, 'Ulster'. Anyways, be an extra set of eyes for me, Katrin"

"Right, coach."

The match-ups were the same as before except Sigmund faced off against Joachim and Wotan set up across from Ulster. Bovva stared angrily at a cackling Karl. Oskar noticed this and said, "Karl, he's gunning for you andI think he's ready for us to hit."

"Think we should blitz him, Tilean?"

"The name's Oskar Roja, Karl."

"Nice to meet ya, Oskar Roja. I'm Karl."

"For Nuffle's sake, Karl. I know that. We've met many times!"

"Oh."

"And, no, we won't blitz him. Let's back up and let him make the first move."

"The first move, got it!"

The whistle blew and the ball was kicked again by the previous kicker. Karl immediately yelled as he charged to block Bovva. The Ogre snagged him, lifted him up, and stared at Oskar. "Dammit, Karl!" yelled Oskar.

Bovva threw Karl's body, hitting Oskar, forcing both men to the ground. Oskar quickly rolled Karl to the side and got up waiting for the follow up block but Bovva seemed to stand there and wonder what he was going to do next. The Tilean saw the ball nearly in the corner of the backfield, Felix racing to get to it. Before he could move downfield, however, Sigmund slammed into him and he hit the dirt hard.

Sigmund continued moving, satisfied in dropping Oskar. He moved towards Joachim so he could help Wotan knock him to the ground, but he felt his collar get tight, felt himself get yanked by the collar, and then he found himself spinning to the ground. Sigmund got to his knees to see Oskar's back get smaller in the distance as the man chased down Felix.

The thrower picked up the ball and Felix scanned for his option to Lukas, who was currently covered by a kicker and Dennis, while Mila had broken free from her mark. He didn't feel confident for the long pass, however, and dodged around Oskar's tackle. Sigmund made his way to Felix who handed him the ball. Sigmund turned and bolted for the endzone and said, "Bovva!"

The Ogre looked around, curious as to why his name was called.

Sigmund yelled again. "Bovva!"

Bovva saw his friend running with a ball, and another guy running beside him, He heard his friend say, "Run with me and protect me!"

Bovva gave a thumbs up and ran with Sigmund, knocking away Dennis easily while Felix smashed into the kicker. Ulster came around the bend and leapt at Sigmund who jumped at the right second to miss the tackle. Soon, Sigmund and his cage made the touchdown.

The whistle sounded and Coach Junger yelled to them to get some water.

Coach Junger's office, though large and spacious, felt suffocating after spending almost all day outside. Coach Junger sat at his desk, his crutch leaning against the edge. "Alright, boys and sir, give me your definites," said Coach Junger. "Then we argue."

Otto said, "Sigmund Kahn."

Everyone agreed. Leon wrote Sigmund's name on the chalkboard.. The four men were finishing up an early supper set up by Hilda and Simon. A rather nice spread of various cut beefs, with steamed vegetable medleys. A tangy, brown mustard accompanied the meal as either a spread or dip.

Sebastian said, "Katrin Kohler."

Otto said, "Felix Muller."

Junger said, "Mila Matthaus."

"Lukas Lahm," said Sebastian.

"Oskar Roja," said Otto.

"Dennis Voller," said Junger.

"Wotan Lowe."

"Joachim Orrenstein."

"Karl."

"Bovva."

"Mannfred Dietz."

"Erik Bonn."

"Hans Dreihaus."

"Nuffstian Beem."

"Ulster Gotze."

"Alright, boys, and sir. Is it safe to say the first nine are unanimous?"

"Agreed," said Sebastian."

"Aye," said Otto.

Coach Junger looked at the parchment. "Mannfred Dietz. Otto, why do you think he goes on the team?"

"He's a solid blocker, needs to work on his footwork, but I think he'll make a dependable back-up to Wotan or Joachim, possibly a good assist blocker for Katrin and Sigmund."

"Fair enough," said Coach Junger. "Lord Ginter."

"Agreed. He let through a blitz but stood his ground well when double-teaming Bovva."

Coach Junger looked to the chalkboard. "Erik Bonn. I think he could be a blitzer if we train him right. He's got the hits to give and seems to want the ball."

Otto nodded, "He needs to be more assertive- more talkative. The only reason I knew he was out there was because I personally invited him. We also need to work on his dodging. He seems to get hit or get into the crum rather than go around it when necessary."

Sebastian said, "Agreed. Train him as a blitzer then?"

"Yes," said Junger, "I'm fine with that. Hans Driehaus. Lord Ginter?"

Sebastian stretched. "Gentlemen, may I offer a suggestion?"

"Outside of Hans Driehaus?" asked Otto.

"No. Outside of this office, address me accordingly, of course, but please call me Sebastian when I'm in here. It makes me feel like an outsider or some sort of mob boss."

"Then go ahead, Sebastian," said Junger. "Hans Driehaus."

"His speed and power could reach Sigmund's and Lukas's given time."

Otto shook his head, "He's much too young. Fifteen?"

Coach Junger said, "Jeremia Kool was really young when he started."

"Jeremia Kool is a Dark Elf. Their ages are weird," said Otto.

"How about reserves, then," said Sebastian.

"Reserves of one? Sure," said Otto. "Trains with the team, watches the games. And hope we don't need him."

Coach Junger nodded to Leon who checked Hans's name. "Next is Nuffstian Beem."

Otto said, "He can take a hit and all it does is make him more surly. He may be a little light on hitting but he can read the game well. Knows where to be when the play is made."

Sebastian said, "Can he physically make the play himself when he has to?"

Otto cocked his head to the side. "Maybe. As a lineman he will do well. I think his tactical mind is far ahead of his young years. Maybe time will bulk him up."

Coach Junger said, "Agreed. 's his name, again?"

"Ulster," said Sebastian.

"Right. Ulster. He will make the hit and will follow directions. And he's simply hard to knock down. I only saw him hit the dirt a handful of times."

"Does he need to be taught how to read the game better?" asked Otto. "I noticed he was out of position when he shouldn't have been."

"That allowed Wotan to double team Karl and give the straightaway to Felix for the score," said Sebastian.

"Time will tell if he can think on his feet," said the coach. "He could be useful as a roadblock. Speaking of which, we haven't spoken about the Ogre in the room. Bovva. He's never played before, and needs to be trained how to play. Too much trouble to keep him?"

Sebastian gulped some wine. "I think if you want to compete nowadays, you have to have an ogre."

Otto asked, "Nowadays?"

Sebastian nodded. "Thanks to the Grasshuggers' game against the Ravens, we all now have to deal with the limit placed on your roster, because you can only field sixteen players. I think there needs to be an Ogre to lay hits and cause distractions. Not to mention the allocation of the opposing team's resources in dealing with him will open up avenues of scoring. That's not to even touch on the fact that an Ogre can deal with another Big Guy and cause a lot of pain. Attrition could help us."

Otto cocked his head in thought. "I agree with that but I think we need consistency on the team, especially a young team. If Bovva is part of a cage and decides to go down one of his boneheaded daydreams, he's now caused a turnover, allowing our guy to get tackled. The team needs to practice solid plays and be able to count on their fellow teammates at all times. New teams fold due to lack of leadership and camaraderie on the field. I don't think you need an Ogre early on to achieve a successful run."

Sebastian raised his wine glass to Otto. "Well spoken. This camaraderie you speak of can be fast tracked with a winning record. Facing teams like Chaos, Orcs, Dwarves, the Undead, Khemri, and even other Human teams require an Ogre on the pitch."

Otto raised his glass back. "Ogres mean nothing to Wood Elves, High Elves, or any other Elven team. Amazons will dodge away from him. Gutter Runners aren't concerned with an Ogre, unless they have a Rat Ogre, which a lot of Skaven don't field. We haven't even discussed cost. I know you're backing this team, Sebastian, but you're a smart businessman. Ogres cost a lot of money to feed, clothe, and hopefully he doesn't hurt one of us during training. Costs there would be more than monetary. Let's say he hits Sigmund and breaks his leg. Breaks Felix's arm. Breaks Karl's, well, something Karl would miss. That could hurt us in any tournament."

Coach Junger nodded to every argument given. Sebastian and Otto looked at the coach while he drank from his ale. He took a pipe out, meticulously packed it, and got up slowly, using the desk as support. He hobbled to the chalkboard and looked at it. "I think this team will cost a lot of money. If Sebastian says he's good for it, fine. But I want to be in debt to no one if I officially take this team over as coach- including the owner. If Sebastian truly wants this team to be the town's team, supported and paid for by the town, we need to have paid all money back to any debtor and be financially solvent prior to next year's charter review. This means if we take this team, we have to have paid them, paid Sebastian, and start paying for ourselves. The question then becomes- can we do it in that short amount of time?"

They all looked to each other, searching each other's faces to find the answer. Coach Junger said, "It's easy to pay Sebastian back. It's easy to pay the debtors. It won't be easy to maintain financial solvency if we aren't smart with our resources and our energies. We need a team that we think can win. They say winning isn't everything in Blood Bowl- sometimes it's about entertainment. If we can't win, or entertain, or both- we need to quit this right now."

Coach Junger walked back to the desk and sat down. "Leon."

Leon moved in front of the desk and clasped his hands in front of him. "Do you think we can do it?" asked the coach.

Leon looked to Sebastian, then to Otto, and then back at Coach Junger. Then, he nodded.

Chapter 16

"Part of succeeding in Blood Bowl is having a keen sense of marketing. Most teams understand the importance of appropriate and fashionable team names and colors. Unfortunately, some teams are Goblins."

-Baron Kurt Hergerworden, Owner, Black Mountain Marauders, from Growing Money Off Players

The next month was filled with preparations. Preparations meant planning, supervising, and execution, and found Lord Sebastian Ginter and Mayor Junger all over town. Between the two men, they had meetings with wheat farmers, pig farmers, cattle farmers, the Carpenter's Guild, the Blacksmith's Guild, and the small, but still important, Miner's Guild.

As more workers poured in, so did the business for the Vulgar Tankard. The supplies Sebastian had ordered for this influx had swelled the storeroom of the tavern and Garth had already hired a few more runners his young employee, Michael, had known from his own Blood Bowl practice team for kids. This team essentially comprised more or less a dozen of pre-teen boys running around the surrounding hills and shamelessly tackling each other.

The guilds were in full force and busy repairing the abandoned buildings, widening roads, and renovating simple plumbing. Although there was almost too much to be done, Tierheim seemed to have an energy most old timers hadn't experienced since they were pre-teens, running around the surrounding hills and shamelessly tackling each other.

Sebastian also hosted the new head chefs and got them situated in living quarters, since all three showed up with their own staff. Just across the bridge from The Vulgar Tankard, the Bretonnian, Chef Jean Cousteau, began to set up his tavern, La Maison, after Sebastian suggested he use that name instead of Le Lion de la Maison de Gisoreaux. Chef Cousteau couldn't understand how shortening the name would be any easier, but he bowed to Lord Ginter's rank. The Dwarven chef, Chef Grimaxe Grillbeard, was building the Fire Pit towards the southern portion of the town. He originally wanted his massive kiln-fired pits near some of the stables, but after some deliberating, he bowed to Lord Ginter's rationality. The Cathayan restaurant, Cathayan Inn, owned by Chef Wei, opened at one of the corners of the roundabout where the statue of Nuffle stood. Chef Wei had wanted to create a menu which included pickled frogs, fermented eggs, and something he called 'Stinky Tofu', but decided to develop his menu with local tastes in mind thanks to Lord Ginter's foresight.

All three chefs hoped to have their restaurants opened within the next two weeks, but by the time the tryouts were to take place, it seemed that only Garth and Wei would be ready to feed the tradesmen and locals. The speed in which Wei and his workers fixed up their place was just short of magical. In fact, many people on foot could try free samples of fried, boneless chicken with a ginger sauce by several employees wearing long, black tunics outside of Wei's Cathay Inn.

Plans were also being developed for the zoning of warehouses, extra mills, and stables. Several buildings were being expanded to be set up as hotels and halfway houses. With the influx of people, Mayor Junger had his hands full trying to increase the volunteer fire brigade and pay full time deputies to help the newly created office of the Sheriff.

Signs were placed along the Old Dwarven Road to entice travellers to stop in Tierheim for the food or the hospitality. If any did stay, a complimentary mini-keg of their choice of ale and half a pound of beef jerky were given to help spread the word. For the areas farther than a regular traveller might, well, travel, Sebastian had bought advertising in local papers, or even commercial ads on any Cabalvision channels that covered Blood Bowl games within Averland, Stirland, or Wissenland. Some of this marketing included a sneak peak of a new Blood Bowl team from Tierheim ready to play in the upcoming 2483 season.

This is to say that the goal was still a controlled expansion and nothing sprouted overnight. There was no rush of newcomers coming barreling through town, but there did seem to be more travel than before. One more new face at the Vulgar Tankard than the previous day. One more horse being sheltered at the stables. Word was getting out, but at the pace that only horses and feet would allow. Much of the new income actually came from the workers. Grenzstadt wasn't too far off, nor Heideck, but Tierheim still had good food and beer to keep almost all of them in town to spend their money.

While all of this was going on, Coach Junger was still finding time to run his team through drills and practices during the late afternoon, so that many of them could work their day shifts or so others would get to their night shifts. This also allowed Coach Junger the time to pass out every night of exhaustion, only to have to get up the next day and begin the circus again.

Frank Oberst allowed Bovva to spend time training with throwing real blocks against his three Ogres in exchange for helping with demolition work and moving large debris. This worked out well considering Bovva was getting frustrated not hurting anybody, especially the two annoyances, Oskar and Karl. The first guy because he was wondering whether he could hit the man and make him stay down, and the second guy because he was such an irritating idiot.

Word had gotten out amongst several Blood Bowl clubs that an upstart Sevens team from Tierheim had wrecked the Black Fire Bruisers to the point that it was an easy win for the Streissen Rebels. Word had also gotten out that Tierheim made the long list of grudges the Bruisers had made for the chance at payback. What this did was streamline a meeting with a NAF representative to meet with the owner and coach of the Tierheim something or others. This also sent a surge of pride throughout the local area.

Before the meeting and registration with the NAF could occur, Tierheim couldn't simply be called 'Tierheim' or the Tierheim 'Something or Others', although Otto liked the ring of that. The naming of the team led to another fruitful meeting at the newly renovated Town Hall, or rather, the expanded Town Hall. Now, there was a large meeting room. The double doors were the only way in or out and they led through a bunch of chairs lined up in rows facing a small stage. On that stage sat Sebastian, Otto, and the new sheriff. Leon stood behind all of them against the wall. Mayor Junger stood at the rustic podium in the center of the stage.

"Call to order," said Mayor Junger. "Let the record show that the meeting has commenced."

"Um, Mayor," said the newly elected Sheriff, Werner Weiss, "by record, do you mean we should be writing this down? I can't read or write."

"How about we let the metaphorical record show that the meeting has commenced."

"Meta- what? Does that mean we need to find a wizard to write this down?"

Mayor Junger closed his eyes and exhaled. "No, just listen and be a witness, Sheriff."

"Sure thing, Mayor."

"As you all know, the changes around here have been pretty drastic," Mayor Junger began.

"And so far, the town is looking much better, if I do say so myself," said Sheriff Weiss.

The packed room pretty much agreed save for a few skeptical members of the community, most notably, Mr. Kohler, the pig farmer.

Mayor Junger continued, "With a team selected, and the NAF representative coming soon, we need to register the team. Since we have all said this team will be the town's team, Lord Ginter and I have decided the town should name the team."

One member of the congregation stood up, "Why doesn't Lord Ginter just own the team and name it himself?"

Mayor Junger said, "Mr. Lettow, we've been over this. Lord Ginter wants to start the team and although he is the technical owner for now, he wants what we want: full ownership of the team that represents us on the Blood Bowl pitch. Could he simply buy everything for the team like most owners? Sure, he could. But what he wants is the town to embrace the team so that any prestige or profits the team makes- Tierheim makes as well."

"Okay. Sounds fine, I reckon."

"Now before we move on, if you have a question or statement, could you please raise your hand and be called?"

A hand went up. "Is it me or do those new restaurants have people that talk differently?"

"Yes. Now, please wait for me to call on you. Don't just raise your hand and speak."

The same hand went up.

"Yes?"

"Sorry."

"You don't need to raise your hand for that."

"But you said-"

"- I know what I said. For the love of Nuffle, just be sensible."

"Then maybe, Mayor, you should have said what you meant the first time."

"Well, Mr. Stech, maybe next time we'll have a meeting on how meetings should be run. Would you like that?"

"Yes. It would be helpful." Several murmurs throughout the crowd in agreement.

"Mr. Stech, no more questions from you for at least an hour."

"But-"

"Two hours."

Mr. Stech sat down and folded his arms over his chest. The Mayor began again. "Now, we have several names we were thinking of, but of course, Lord Ginter wanted to hear from all of you first, because he has underestimated the irritation involved when the general public gets a chance to speak."

Mayor Junegr side-eyed Sebastian who put his hands up in surrender. "Now, who would like to go first?"

A hand raised. "Mr. Bachen."

The man stood up and before he opened his mouth, Mayor Junger said, "It better not be the Hammers, the Nails, the Plows, or any version of those or you can sit down."

Mr. Bachen sat down. Another hand raised.

"Yes?"

"Um, do I have to stand?"

"It would be helpful," said Junger.

"But my leg hurts."

Mayor Junger raised his soft casted leg and tapped his cane with it. "So does mine. Stand, please."

The man stood and said, "What about the Beefeaters?"

Some nodded in the crowd. Mayor Junger looked at the man. "Seriously?"

"Sure."

"Fine. Leon, please write that on the board."

Leon wrote down the name on the chalkboard installed directly into the large wall behind everyone on the stage. "Anyone else? Yes, go ahead."

"How about the Tierheim Tearmakers?"

"Nuffle help me," Mayor Junger said. He motioned to Leon who added it to the board. "Next?"

"How about the Steers?"

"Fine. Next?"

"How about the Acolytes?"

Mayor Junger replied, "That's Altdorf's team."

"Dammit."

The mayor pointed to another man, who said, "How about the Reavers?"

"That's Reikland's."

"Are you sure?"

Mayor Junger said, "Yes. Next?"

"How about the Dragons?"

"Because of Averland's well known and famous population of dragons?" asked another person from the group.

"I mean, they are pretty neat."

"And scary!" someone yelled.

"Fine. At least we're going down a better path," said Mayor Junger.

"The Patriots."

"Butchers."

"Pirates."

"I'd love to see a pirate on this river," said someone. "More like a nasty old man throwing rocks at a mill."

"Think, idiot," said the man who gave the name. "We 'pirate' the hopes of those who think they can win."

"Settle down," said Mayor Junger. "Next."

"Tierheim Tigers."

Mayor Junger cocked his head and smiled at that. Before he could call on someone else, a person said, "Tigers? They're not real."

"And dragons are?"

"Yes, I saw one."

"Really?"

"Well, my mama did, and she would never tell a lie. And even if Tigers were here, do you see any around here?"

"You mean, like dragons?"

"I told you my mama saw a dragon. She didn't see any tigers."

Mayor Junger smacked his cane against the podium. "Shut it, the both of you. Leon, put it up."

After several more minutes of ideas, another hour passed in order to whittle it down to three choices. During this hour, several were asked to leave, Mayor Junger broke his cane on the podium, one man snored, and several challenged each other to duels.

Mayor Junger rubbed his temples as he leaned on the stand. "So it's between the Beefeaters, Nuffle help me,the Dragons, and the Tigers. Between these three, you can only raise your hand once, and no, Mr. Stech, two hands does not equal two votes."

"Dammit."

"All for the Beefeaters?" Some people raised their hands. Leon counted, wrote them on a paper, and then nodded to Mayor Junger.

"All for the Dragons?" Some people did the same and so Leon did the same.

"All for the Tigers?"

"The paper, please, Leon," Mayor Junger said, holding his hand out for the small parchment. "It looks like the dragons got the least votes so now it's down to two."

"That vote was rigged!"

"Shut up, man. Dragons iare dumb, anyways," said Sheriff Weiss.

"Now, again, you can only vote once and it will be between the Beefeaters and the Tigers," Mayor Junger said.

"For the Beefeaters." Leon counted and wrote down the number.

Mayor Junger had visible sweat seeing the large number of hands. "Now, those in favor of the Tigers?"

Leon counted, wrote down the number and handed it to Mayor Junger. He breathed a sigh of relief. "Looks like the Tigers have it."

The crowd erupted with a mix of boos and cheers. People talked at once. "This whole town is corrupt!"

"Tigers sounds great!"

"What does a Tiger even look like? How can we have a team of something we don't know what it looks like?"

"What does a 'Beefeater' look like?"

"Us, you moron!"

"I'm a moron? So there's going to be a picture of a face on the flag with beef? Or will it be all of us drawn in?"

Mayor Junger pounded the podium until it broke, falling into a clump. "Shut it! We have some other matters to discuss!"

The crowd settled back down. "Now, who here has seen a tiger," said the Mayor.

The crowd stayed silent. "I was expecting more than that, to be honest," said Lord Ginter.

A hand raised in the back with a loud cough. "I have."

Mayor Junger hung his head. "Mr. Wallenbach, is this a real story?"

A cough acknowledged the question. The old man, bent nearly perpendicular at the waist said, "Aye, young buck, I have," said the man, hands on his knees and coughing until phlegm came up. "Did you forget about my travels around the world?"

"No, Mr. Wallenbach, no one has because it's all you talk about," said Junger.

"Then listen close! I've travelled from Naggaroth to Nippon, on the Empire's dime I might add, meeting new cultures-"

"And coughing on them," said someone.

Wallenbach pointed at the crowd. "I've seen wonders many of you can only dream, creatures you can only imagine, and yes, I have met the mighty tiger. I nearly lost my right eye to the beast!" He paused to cough. "It was while I visited the lands of Lustria, where the ancient Lizardmen dwell, and on the expedition in which we were commanded to find the lost pearls of-"

"Fine, Mr. Wallenbach," interrupted Mayor Junger, "we'll call on you tomorrow for your description. Please be seated."

"Where?"

"In your seat, Mr. Wallenbach."

"Right."

Lord Ginter said, "So it will be the Tierheim Tigers. Once we meet with the NAF, we will begin reaching out to various organizations to play."

A hand raised. "Yes?" asked Junger.

"Do we get to watch the games for free?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because teams cost money. We need to try to make a profit."

"But we live here. Don't we get a discount at least?"

"A small one. But only those living in the jurisdiction of Tierheim, so if you have friends or family visiting, they pay full price."

Another hand raised. "Yes?"

"Will we be paid to travel to the away games?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Mayor Junger exhaled heavily. "Because teams cost money! We can't pay our own fans to be at our away games!"

"Then how will we get there?"

"I don't know, save some money. Hitch a ride on a dragon? Any other questions?"

"Team colors?" someone in the back asked.

"Either Averland colors-"

"Black and yellow?" asked one man.

"Black and yellow," answered another.

"-or the colors of a tiger," continued Mayor Junger.

"What colors does a tiger have?"

"I don't know," said Mayor Junger, "ask Mr. Wallenbach."

Wallenbach coughed and stood, "I could tell you the colors of its eyes, that's how close I was. When our expedition was commanded to find the pearls-"

Groans came from the crowd. Mayor Junger interrupted again, "If there are no other questions, that will end today's meeting."

The crowd stayed still. Mayor Junger turned to the men on the stage and then back to the crowd. "We will meet again in one week's time. Good night to you all."

The crowd got up and began to leave the room, some of them pulling Wallenbach to the side to ask him about tigers, probably. Mayor Junger faced the men seated on the stage and they stood up. "Lord Ginter, I may never forgive you for having Frank build the meeting room."

Sebastian chuckled. "I can only use my ignorance as an excuse."

Chapter 17

"Blood Bowl teams cost a lot of money- you have the players themselves, support staff, travel, insurance, bookings, marketing, equipment, stadium, field maintenance, food, drink, and all sorts of et ceteras and et ceteras. Or- you can say "Nuffle it," and piecemeal everything and hope for the best. The latter is not recommended, by the way."

-King Thorn Durinsgold III, owner of the Dwarf Giants

After the last of the townsfolk left, two men in simple, black cloaks over beige tunics and matching pants approached the stage. Sebastian smiled. Mayor Junger said, "Yes, gentlemen? From your colors, you look like you're from Heideck."

"Very good observation, Coach," said the heavier set one with a rather full, black beard.

"It's pretty brave for two men from Heideck in colors to show up in Tierheim," said Mayor Junger.

"Well," said the second, nearly identical to the first, but smaller in stature, "We wanted to see for ourselves that there is indeed a team starting in Tierheim and would like to extend an exhibition game once you're registered, of course. Naturally," he said, bowing slightly to Sebastian, "You must be Lord Ginter."

"I am, sir. And you are?"

"Freidrich Apfel," said the first, heavier set man extending his hand.

"Franz Apfel," said the other. Sebastian and the other shook hands. They traded handshakes with Coach Junger, who subtly wiped his hand on his own shirt.

"Since we established our team two years ago, the Heideck Hurters have been looking for practice matches with teams that aren't too terribly far in travel. We would love to play your team. Since you have no field, we would see it as an honor to have you in our home on our field," said Friedrich.

Sebastian said, "'Herders'? Like in sheep. Or cats?"

"No, my Lord. 'Hurters'. With a 'T'. A play on words, you see," said Franz.

"The purse," asked Junger.

"Well, since it's your first time out, how about 10,000 griffons to the winner, provided the NAF approves, and 1,000 to the loser," said Friedrich.

"What about a tie?" asked Sebastian.

"We split, evenly; five thousand to each," said Franz. "We are staying tonight here, and you can find us at the Fire Pit, I hear their ale is quite nice. We hope to have your answer in the morning when the bells ring eight."

"We'll have your answer then," said Coach Junger.

The two men left the building and Junger squinted after them. "Is there a problem," said Sebastian.

"Heideck and Tierheim have many problems going way back. Back before I was born. I know it's a big purse for us, but believe me, this may be a game we may want to skip," said Coach Junger.

"Why is that?" asked Otto.

"Heideck and Tierheim were founded with charters around the same time. However, Heideck had its founding based on guilds who made promises to the Averland aristocracy. Tierheim, was simply a group of miners and farmers who didn't have the connections, though we raised better cattle and even proved adept at mining. Because of the mining, Heideck and Tierheim competed for the mining rights in the hills between our towns. And the cattle grazing as well. Over time, Heideck encroached on agreed upon boundaries and so the competition grew heated. This caused a few skirmishes and even ended in a few deaths. Eventually, the Elector Count stepped in, and since he had various business dealings with Heideck, Tierheim got a raw deal."

"What deal?" asked Sebastian.

"Leave everything to Heideck or lose our charter immediately," replied Mayor Junger. He looked at the others who looked straight back at him quizzingly. "Apparently the Elector's dealings in Heideck went deep. He personally solved the feud with a pen and a signature. Needless to say, we don't care for each other. We see them as greedy little snobs-"

"-and they see you as backwards losers," said Sebastian.

"Exactly. If we visit them, we are on their home turf. We won't have control over their fans, not that most stadiums do, and we won't have much support from local authorities. If we bring in tons of our fans, riots will break out."

"Otto said, "It is 10,000 griffons if we win. That would help start the debt payments."

"IF we win," said Coach Junger. "Otto, I'm sure you've seen their team. I haven't. Are they any good?"

"To be honest, I don't know too much. They have an Ogre now. Bigger than most others. Still stupid, like most others. I did hear they have a pair of very fast and very capable catchers, but they haven't made waves in winning important matches. Leon, how did they do in the Averheim Cup?"

Leon shrugged and put out his hand and waved it by turning it over repeatedly. "So-so, hunh?" asked Otto. "Coach Junger, this could be a good test at putting the team under pressure right out the gate."

"True," said Coach Junger, "but if we lose, we don't just lose the game. This could be a more demoralizing defeat for our morale more than anything. A brand new team needs to get comfortable with some weaker opponents if they can. At least play teams just starting out as well. Get some confidence."

"Or win big and get it immediately," said Otto.

"There's that," said Coach Junger. "Unfortunately, the two idjits from Heideck were right. There aren't any times in the immediate vicinity to play."

"Could we put it up to the team," said Sebastian.

Coach Junger nodded. "That might be best this time around. But they need to know this is a special case and that this team is not a democracy."

"Gentlemen," said Sebastian, "shall we meet in the morning in Coach Junger's office at seven rings of the bell?"

"Sounds good to me," said Otto.

"Fine," said Coach Junger. "I am going to stop at our local artist's home first and see if he can talk to Wallenbach to get the art for the tiger. Have either of you seen a tiger?"

Sebastian put up his hands. "Farthest I've been is Barak Varr. And Brettonia. I may be a Lord, but I had to focus on getting the money before I could spend it taking vacations."

"And of all the places so far, you chose Tierheim?" asked Coach Junger.

"I did. This is my first venture out of my normal trade."

"What trade is that," asked Otto.

"Ship insurance, mostly. But I have various trade and commerce ventures as well."

"Ship insurance. What's that?" said Otto.

"If a ship, or ships, sail out of a town, I insure them. If they don't make it back, I pay them. If they do make it back in one piece, then I make money. Kind of like protection but without the creepy looking thugs. I do rivers as well as the open ocean."

Coach Junger waived them off. "Okay. Well, see you all in the morning."

"Seventh bell," said Otto.

Chapter 18

"In my travels across the known and unknown world, I have seen all sorts of creatures you would not believe. I've seen half-men and half-fish eat half-men and half-birds. I've seen half-lions and half-tigers dance around the bodies of hairy snakes. I've seen Ogres reading and giving their critiques to Snotlings. It's crazy out there in the world!"

-Mighty Zug, Zug Takes on the World, only on CBS

Otto, Sebastian, and Leon looked at the sketches in Coach Junger's office. "Are you sure this is what a tiger looks like," asked Otto.

"This is what Wallenbach gave the artist," said Junger.

"Hmmm," said Sebastian, "it does look a bit dangerous, at least."

"It also doesn't have color yet," said Coach Junger.

"I didn't know tigers had two tails," said Otto.

"Neither did I," said Coach Junger. "Now we know."

A knock at the office door interrupted the impromptu meeting. "Come in," said Coach Junger.

Sigmund, Lukas, and Mila walked in. "Coach, we wanted to know what time you wanted to start today."

"Didn't I say be at the field at the ninth bell?"

"You did," said Mila. "We were just checking."

"You mean you were checking to see what name the town chose for the team?" asked Sebastian.

"Um, well, yes, my Lord, we were wondering that too," said Lukas. "I mean, we heard it was the 'Tiger' but we wanted to know what one looked like."

"So you got up at seven in the morning to find out," asked Otto.

"We were up at five," said Sigmund.

Coach Junger looked up from the sketch. "Doing what?"

"Running, Coach," said Sigmund as if that was the only logical reason.

"Just the three of you?"

"Everyone," said Mila. "Except Karl. He smelled like cowshank again, so we decided not to wake him."

Coach Junger smiled. "Come over here you three."

They walked towards the sketch. Sebastian said, "You listened in on the meeting, didn't you," asked Sebastian.

Lukas gave an appalled look. "What? My Lord, we were doing exercises and meditating before bed."

"Your bed, Lukas," asked Coach Junger.

"A bed," said Lukas.

Sebastian said, "So if you heard the meeting, I'm sure you knew Coach Junger spoke to an artist who spoke with Wallenbach."

Sigmund said, "Yes. This is the tiger?"

"It is," said Coach Junger. The three of them stared at it. "What do you think?"

"It's scary, coach," said Lukas.

"But?"

"But I guess I didn't know tigers had three eyes."

"Is that fire at the end of its tails or hair," asked Mila.

"Fire, I think," said Coach Junger. "What do you think, Sigmund?"

"Don't care, coach," he shrugged..

"Then why are you here," asked Otto.

Sebastian said, "Because if they heard the meeting, they want to know if we're taking the offer from Heideck."

"What, us" asked Lukas. "We just wanted to see the tiger. What is this about Heideck?"

Coach Junger looked unamused. "Lukas, if you're this bad at lying, how is it you haven't ended up dead in an alley from some daughter's father?"

"I only date dumb girls, Coach," he said.

Coach Junger turned to Sigmund and said, "Sigmund?"

"We want to know about Heideck."

Mila slapped him on the arm. "For Nuffle's sake, Sig, can you just go along with things?"

Sigmund shrugged. "Not really."

Coach Junger sat back in his chair. "I assume the whole team knows about this and the concerns we have about playing Heideck?"

Mila said, "Coach, we only thought this was about a team name until Katrin noticed two Heideckers in the back of the meeting. Then when they spoke to you about playing them, we wanted to talk to you about it this morning."

Otto said, "How did you listen in?"

"At the window," said Lukas. "Amazing things, windows. Hard to see out at night, easy to see in at night."

"And you heard everything," asked the scout.

"Everything," said Sigmund.

"And Nuffstian Beem was in the meeting," said Mila. "He wore a wig."

"Good Nuffle," said Junger. "Fine. What does the team think about it?"

"We all got up for a run at five," said Mila. "That's what we think about it."

"And you are all on board with this," asked Sebastian.

"Yes, sir," said Sigmund.

"You do know," said Coach Junger wincing as he stood up, "this isn't a vengeance game, or a game about honor. This could be a rather bad game for us if we lose. And on top of that, we haven't even had a proper scrimmage or a practice game to work out the kinks. If this goes belly up, Tierheim might not recover."

"Coach," said Sigmund.

"Yes, Sigmund?"

"We want this. Not just for pride or honor. We are all here to play Blood Bowl. If Heideck is our first test, we want it no matter who it is. The fact that it's Heideck will make us only want it more. If we lose, we will only crave the game more- to be better. To be stronger. To be smarter. If we win, we will set our goals higher. Grenzstadt. Streissen. Averheim. But we will win, coach."

"Why is that? Because you got up at five to run?"

"Because we're the Tierheim Tigers, coach," said Lukas.

Coach Junger walked to the window where the stadium under construction was being erected, slightly illuminated by the rising sun. "How does everyone on the team feel about this?"

"Well, we're all in it," said Mila.

"Except Karl" said Lukas, "but we didn't ask him since he stank of shank. We figured he'd be okay with it though, provided he's a nutcase. Wotan thinks it's a conspiracy but he wants it too."

"Conspiracy," asked Sebastian.

"Yes, my lord," said Sigmund.

Mila said, "Wotan thinks maybe we're only playing Heideck because this will give them a chance to ruin us. With the town charter up for review, this could help persuade Averheim to revoke it."

"Does he think I am part of this conspiracy?" said Sebastian.

Mila said, "Um…"

Lukas looked to be interested in what the view was outside the window.

Sigmund said, "Yes."

"It seems I still have some headway to make then," said Sebastian.

"No offense, my Lord," said Sigmund.

"None taken," said Sebastian. "It's good to have people question the motives of anyone. It solves the problem of 'Who watches the town watch'?"

"Sir," said Mila, "if this means anything, Wotan also believes the government drugged Wallenbach into believing he went to Lustria after he found the truth that the New World doesn't exist."

"Well, that's interesting," said Sebastian. "He may be a little off, but drugged into seeing things he didn't see?"

They all looked at the sketches. "Thank you, all of you," said Coach Junger. "If you feel this is a team decision to do this, then we'll do it."

"We do," said Mila.

"Fine, I'll let Heideck know. After that, we'll commission the art for the tiger and have it as our official logo. You do like it?"

"Sure," said Mila. "Very scary."

"Dangerous, for sure," said Lukas.

"Don't care," said Sigmund.

"Dismissed, you three. See you in a little over an hour," said the Coach.

"Yes, Coach," they said.

"And don't think your early morning run gets you out of more laps."

The three players turned and left the office. "Sneaky shanks," Coach Junger smiled.

"Would you have it any other way," asked Otto with a smile.

"Not for all the money in Heideck. Averheim, maybe. Let's get on to the Fire Pit. Lord Ginter, when will the NAF get here?"

"Tomorrow. They will stay at La Maison. We'll meet them there in the evening."

"Perfect."

They all walked out of the office and heard some doors shut quickly along with Nuffstian and Oskar acting as if they were inspecting the banisters of the stairwell. Once leaving the barracks they began their way towards the Fire Pit, the Dwarven pub. Sounds of construction reverberated from several buildings on the way. One was getting its roof taken down to help build a second story.

"Things are coming along," said Mayor Junger.

"Yes, they are," said Sebastian. "I've received word that our advertising has gone over well enough in the bigger cities and towns. Lots of interest in our unique beef and ales."

"Unique beef?" asked Otto.

"The Cattleman's Guild has been working hard over the last week and set up rules and regulations on Tierheim beef. Something about texture and marbleization. I am not a beef connoisseur but I am told that several cattlemen had wanted this type of categorization before. As for the ales, the Brewer's Guild of the Empire will be judging several brews from the Voller family and Garth's very own special blend. If that goes well, we can start the process of becoming a destination beer venue. Unfortunately, this means we will have to deal with Bloodweiser or Killer Lite eventually."

"Shanking pisswater," said Mayor Junger.

"They do have money and would be good sponsors," said Otto.

"And would likely create a monopoly on the ales we serve and make," said Sebastian. "No, we need to keep things as local and pure as possible. Tierheim needs to set their standards and keep them."

"I rather like Blood Ice," said Otto. "And Killer Genuine Draft."

"Do you even like beer, Otto," asked Mayor Junger.

"Ha, ha," said Otto. "They make beer drinking games not hurt so much in the morning."

Mayor Junger huffed. "Why does the NAF want to go to La Maison instead of the Vulgar Tankard? Snobby?"

"Well, yes," said Sebastian. "And, we want snobby people to go to snobby places. Snobby people talk to other snobby people. If they went to the Vulgar Tankard, they would only pass it off as any other tavern in any other town. If they went to a type of La Maison in Averheim, Altdorf, or Marienburg, it would be another Brettonian restaurant amongst many. Here, they get to have the flavor of Brettonia in Tierheim, of all places. No offense."

"None taken," said Mayor Junger. "It's also interesting that the Heideckers went to the Fire Pit."

"Well, that one is easy," said Otto. "They're scouting. The Vulgar Tankard is Tierheim through and through and no Heidecker would dare go to a place like that. They're also Averlanders, so La Maison may be too snobby, as Lord Ginter said. But the Fire Pit is Dwarven, or neutral ground, and they can get some Dwarven ale. And maybe talk to the owners and find out what they think about Tierheim. It's what I would do."

"Here we are," said Sebastian.

The Fire Pit was a wooden building, a two story becoming the second one of its kind in Tierheim, but the front had a wrought iron double door, and a rock facade over the face of the tavern. The sign had a symbol of a roaring fire over five stones and the same symbol on the both of the double doors. Once they went inside, the dining area was slightly dimmer than they were used to, with a fireplace already rumbling. Multiple torches in iron gating spread throughout the rest of the floor.

A young looking dwarf, since his beard had no gray hairs, greeted them. "Lord Ginter, Mayor Junger, and guest. Welcome to the Fire Pit. Breakfast?"

"No thank you, Fragrock," said Sebastian. We're here to meet two gentlemen from Heideck."

"Oh, then you missed them."

"What?" asked Junger. They said they would meet us at the eighth ring."

At that moment, the bells rang eight. "Did they? They left here about an hour ago and wanted me to pass you the message they had to go and if you needed to contact them about a match, just send them a letter."

"Shanking Heideck," said Mayor Junger.

Sebastian huffed. "Now I'm beginning to understand your irritation with them."

"So no breakfast, then?" asked the Dwarf.

"Fragrock," said Mayor Junger. "Give us your best breakfast and ale. No need to start the day pissed off."

"Best to start the day getting pissed instead, hunh," said Fragrock, laughing.

Chapter 19

"The NAF will usher in change as no one has ever seen before. Our vision will be noted in history as the greatest innovation in all of Blood Bowl!"

Jorge Hellhound, Third Commissioner of Blood Bowl before introducing Cabalvision

Inside La Maison were lace tablecloths. And actual stemware. The decor was definitely more high end compared to anywhere else in Tierheim; there were even candles on each table and a knife, spoon, and fork. Of the three new taverns, it took La Maison longer to open. There were still a lot of crates to be unboxed stacked outside the restaurant. Several workers were putting on the final touches in the room but the dining area was quite elegant. Mayor Junger didn't care for the fancy atmosphere but wasn't unaccustomed to it either, especially when he had the money and mediocre fame of a Blood Bowler in his younger days. Sebastian thought it was perfect for Tierheim. The staff were Brettonian, which meant they were very brusque, but polite. The owner, Jean Cousteau, had to have been a bit in debt and probably had the fear of whether or not this venture would be worth setting up in a town known for a more simpler taste. As Sebastian had stated, La Maison was not necessarily for the locals, but for the future tourists or businessmen. Nevertheless, this style of eating would be more of a gamble than the others.

For the NAF representatives, Mr. Michael Luft and Brandon Gregg, this was rather impressive. The food was a simple rack of lamb with a brown sauce most noted for its origin in Grisoux, accompanied with steamed asparagus in a red wine vinaigrette accompanied by rousette potatoes. When Sebastian ordered the wine, he ordered the red from Bordeleaux, knowing it would not only set the mood of the business meeting, but help with the owner appreciating his choice of venue. Mayor Junger adopted a simple witbier, since wine never suited his palate, but Mr. Luft and Mr. Gregg enjoyed the very delicious, but very expensive wine, Lord Ginter had bought for the table.

Once the meal and pleasantries were concluded, a nice creme brulee was presented along with a milk steamed coffee. The meeting commenced and Sebastian said, "I hope, gentlemen, you have enjoyed your stay in Tierheim so far?"

"Absolutely, Lord Ginter," said Mr. Luft, a stout man with a very nicely trimmed goatee and slicked back black hair. "And the food has been amazing."

Mr. Gregg agreed. Mr. Gregg was physically opposite in almost every other way than Mr. Luft. Mr. Gregg had no hair on his face or head and was quite thinner. "La Maison seems destined to be quite the pearl in this town."

"I hate to say it, sirs, but we must speak on the reason you were able to grace our humble town," said Sebastian.

"Well, let's begin, Lord Ginter," said Mr. Luft. "I do, however, wish no offense in asking that you have the registration fee? I only ask rather abruptly because Mr. Gregg and I have spent several hours in previous meetings to discuss registration only to fail to procure the fee and thus forfeited our time and energies."

"A formality," said Sebastian.

"Precisely."

Sebastian passed a thin, leather satchel across the table. Mr. Gregg discreetly opened it and nodded to Mr. Luft who accepted the gesture with a large smile. "I appreciate your meeting with us, Lord Ginter. We would be happy to go over your proposal and we, most assuredly, will answer any questions or clarify any regulations you wish to discuss. We will have you registered as 'The Tierheim…?"

"Tigers," said Coach Junger. "I should be listed as the coach, and the Town of Tierheim as the owner."

The men both raised their eyebrows. "Interesting," said Mr. Gregg. "Lord Ginter, you will not be the owner?"

"No, sir, I will not. The Town of Tierheim will be listed under ownership. It will assume all risk and receive all profits to cover initial expenses."

Mr. Luft nodded, "Not usual, but not unheard of either."

"And the colors?" asked Mr. Gregg.

"Red and yellow," said Coach Junger.

"Like tigers," said Sebastian.

The two representatives looked at each other and shrugged. "Sounds fine," said Mr. Luft, "and who will be the captain?"

"For now, Sigmund Kahn," said Coach Junger.

"Total number for the roster?" asked Mr. Gregg.

"Thirteen, including an Ogre."

"And you have the roster with you," asked Mr. Gregg.

"I do," said Coach Junger, pulling out the parchment with the list of the team. "Is this a new thing? When I played years ago, we never had to do present rosters."

"Well," said Mr. Luft, "the NAF is getting a bit stricter with the rules and regulations. Ever since the cap was placed at sixteen, along with the more chaotic games being played in terms of organization, we've had to buckle down a bit and tighten up the loose strands into a more ordered system. The commissioner, Nikk Three-Horn, has been helping to make that happen. He's quite astute with how the NAF should keep track of everything."

"Blood Bowl is not just about sport, but money as well," said Mr. Gregg. "Mr. Three-Horn wants to make sure that the NAF is not only enforcing the sport with real penalties but making it profitable for the NAF and the teams as well. Which leads us all to this."

Coach Junger took a bite of his dessert. "Must be a pain going through this with Goblin or Chaos teams."

"Which is why we both jumped at the chance to travel here and get you sorted," said Mr. Luft. "We came here straight from Middenheim to do it."

"Well, hopefully, we made your trip worth it," said Sebastian.

Mr. Luft smiled. "My Lord, this dessert was worth the trip alone."

The men at the table chuckled as a waiter came by and removed the remaining plates. Mr. Gregg sipped his wine and said, "I see that you are building a stadium here. A bold venture for a brand new team. Most simply barnstorm until they have the funds."

"We wanted to make sure the town was invested," said Coach Junger.

"What will the capacity be?"

Sebastian said, "Five thousand for now. Should the ticket sales pick up, we'll expand accordingly. We are, as you said, new and not quite in the league of Averheim or Reikland."

The two NAF men nodded. "Since you are new, do you have plans for travelling and playing?" asked Mr. Luft.

"Should registration go well, we have been challenged to an exhibition match with the Heideck Hurters," said Coach Junger.

"Excellent," said Mr. Luft. "I wish you well on your continued success."

Coach Junger asked, "'Continued success'?"

"We heard about your impromptu match with the Black Fire Bruisers and how you bloodied them up enough for the Streissen Rebels to run through them. Well done," said Mr. Gregg.

"Thanks, I guess," said Coach Junger.

Mr. Luft said, "And I know that as a former player, once registered, you know the team will then be playing on an entirely different level and under entirely different regulations."

"Of course," said Coach Junger.

Sebastian asked, "Could you run us through what a 'prestiged ranking' is, please? That was rather a new one for us."

"Of course," said Mr. Gregg. "Outside exhibition or charity games, a Blood Bowl team needs to be able to qualify to play teams they wish. As you know, the AFC and NFC won't play non-league teams, so new teams have to find others who are willing and able to play. Besides, we couldn't have the Tierheim Tigers play the Reikland Reavers and expect a good showing, no offense, sir."

"None taken," said Sebastian,

Mr. Gregg continued, "So every team has a 'prestiged ranking'. This is a mathematical ranking, and if you want to know the exact mathematics behind it I am not your man. However, it is based on strength of schedule, games played, and your win percentage. When Tierheim begins to play another team, that must be within a certain amount of rankings to play. Any game you play, including exhibition or charity matches, will affect your ranking. But only official games count towards your amount of games played."

Coach Junger said, "This could mean we have to travel farther and have fewer games."

"Not necessarily. For you, maybe, since you are in the middle of Averland, but you do have several teams within 100 miles you can play as long as you do so under exhibition or charity status. Whether you like it or not, if Heideck didn't extend this match to you, your ranking would not allow you to play them."

"Most new teams do not have stadiums," said Sebastian. "How would they be able to play each other?"

Mr Luft said, "Here's where there is an exemption to the rule. If there is a tournament, as long as you are a registered team, you can play. Ranking only matters as initial placement within the tournament. But tournament rankings will not affect league rankings. Otherwise, anyone could play anyone else. If it's official, some teams play at neutral stadiums for a nominal fee or simply play in the middle of nowhere."

"Well, once this stadium is built, maybe our travelling will diminish, as long as the other teams can find their way to us," said Sebastian.

"That's correct, Lord Ginter," said Mr. Gregg. "We do wish you all luck in your games and success in the future. We at the NAF do love when new teams join in sport."

Coach Junger said, "And for the fees and revenue, of course."

Mr. Luft raised his glass, "And to profits, naturally."

All four men finished their drinks and rose to leave the table. They shook hands and before Sebastian and Coach Junegr turned to leave, Mr. Gregg said, "Just because I am curious- do you have a logo or art of your team? I've never seen a tiger though I have heard of them in stories."

"Sure," said Coach Junger. He fished out one of the sketches and handed it to Mr. Gregg.

Mr. Gregg nodded approvingly, "Quite nice. I especially like the horns."

The sketch was handed back and they bid each other luck and safe travels. Outside, Sebastian extended his hand to Coach Junger. "Congratulations, Coach."

"You too, sir."

"Now that you are in command of your own team and have a match lined up soon, how do you feel?"

"Do you remember the first time you kissed a girl, sir? No offense."

"None taken, and yes I do."

"That moment you felt, right before, not sure whether she would reject you or be disappointed in you- but you had the excitement push through all that nonsense and then felt the anticipation of the happiness you would have?"

"That sums it up well, I think," said Sebastian.

"Instead of wondering how the kiss will feel, imagine if, instead of the kiss, it's a kick in the nuts you are dreading. Kind of like that. Either a kiss or a kick."

"I honestly will tell you I prefer the former."

"As do I, sir, but I'm old enough to still be ready for the kick."

The two men walked back towards the barracks. They wouldn't get word from Heideck for a set date to play for another day. When they walked to the front of the building, two signs were being installed. One was on a pole hanging from attached chains sticking out into the street just like any other sign above a shop. It had a painted ball with spikes on it, representing the sport of Blood Bowl. The second sign was in the process of being attached above the door and below the second story windows. This sign was large and in the shape of a shield or coat of arms. On it was the red and yellow Tierheim Tiger, painted bright.

Several passersby stopped and watched the installment, along with several of the players watching the workers attach it. Sebastian stepped up to Oskar, who was looking intently with his arms crossed. "What do you think, Oskar? Looks very nice."

"Yes, sir, it does. Are tigers really yellow and red?"

"That's what they say," said Sebastian.

"Coach?" asked Katrin. "Are we official?"

"We're official, Katrin," said Coach Junger. "All we need now are some uniforms and a game."

She nodded with a smile. "That's good news, coach."

"Speaking of which," said Coach Junger as the two men walked up towards his office, "you did order the uniforms, my Lord?"

"Of course," said Sebastian. "To your specifications. I used three of your local tailors to get them done by tomorrow in time for travel to Heideck. My only concern is if the one doing Bovva's had the fabric he needed to make it."

"You used Farr?"

"Yes."

"And Fuller."

"Yes."

"Who was the third one?"

"Uh, Schneider. That was the one who did the throwers and catchers, one through five."

"She's new. Should be okay. I knew her father. Decent fellow. That takes care of uniforms. Transportation? We have a team wagon but we'll need several more."

"That's right, Coach. I have hired four other wagons and drivers as well. I also made sure there will be foodstuffs and barrels of water and ale for the ride as well."

"I only hope we can get in, play, and get out. I don't want to have to stay in Heideck any longer than I have to. Especially since we have no home field advantage. Speaking of which. I saw the blueprint for our new press box. It's rather larger than the previous one."

"Not so much taller as is wider," said Sebastian. "The stands are being built to the degree that they can be added to at a later date."

Coach Junger sat down at his desk and sighed deeply. Sebastian sat across from him and asked, "What's on your mind, Coach Junger?"

The old man spun the chair to look out the window. "There's a lot going on, Sebastian. A lot is changing in this town. A lot of money is being spent. All of it hinges on this team, the Tierheim Tigers. If this all fails, who knows what will happen to this place? My name would be run through the mud along with my body, whether I am alive or dead. The boys and girls on this team- who knows what would happen to them?"

Sebastian walked to the window and looked out as well. "If it's any consolation, Coach, you're not the only one who has thought those exact things. My reputation would be tarnished for sure. I would be losing quite a large sum of money. More importantly, Tierheim would lose everything, including its charter if the acting Elector wishes for it. Fortunately, we have close to a year to achieve what we want. They say every great journey begins with a single step. Our first step is towards Heideck. And when we come away from that, our next step will be to whomever wished to play us. And so on and so on. But there's a reason I specifically put plans in to diversify Tierheim's economy."

"Is that right?"

"Yes. If, in the name of Chaos, the Tierheim Tigers fail, the town can still fall back on its beef, pork, and ale industry. It may not stop the revocation of the town charter, but it might. I've learned to never put all of my eggs in one basket."

Coach Junger let out a snort. "Because you care about Tierheim?"

"I do, Coach Junger. Ever since I first laid eyes on it as a small boy. I had only been here three times before, you know. My father and I had travelled to Grenzstadt on business. Thus, we passed through Tierheim on the way there and the way back. At any rate, my father gushed over the place. We stopped at the tavern, and to be honest, couldn't tell you what it was called then. I hadn't seen my father have so much fun with people. That may not mean much to you, but he was miserable most of the time. But in Tierheim, he was a different man. I couldn't even tell you why, as he never confided that in me. Later, I asked about Tierheim and he said it felt as if he was home. The third time I was here was only a year ago. I don;t know what your town puts in the water, or beef, or ale, or whatever, but Tierheim entranced me yet again. It sounds completely irrational, Coach Junger, I know. Returning back home to Averheim, this place never left my mind. So, yes, I do care. But, more importantly, I believe in Tierheim. Now all we need to do is convince everyone else to do it as well."

"In all honesty, Lord Ginter, I think you lit a fire under my arse in that sense. I love this place, don't get me wrong. But I was sitting in ruts as well. Maybe now, we can turn Tierheim around and put it on the map."

"Thank you for that, Coach Junger. I hope between all of us, we'll do just that."

Chapter 20

"Dealing with nobility is like scooping oil with a fork. You have to be careful with every move you make, and in the end, you feel covered in uncomfortability."

-Gouriel Denuss, Head Coach of the Celestial Comets

The wagons were loaded with provisions and the team. It was early morning, so most everyone was still groggy or were attempting to catch any elusive sleep they could. The trip was about thirty miles but if they could make good time, they could be in Heideck in four days. Of course, this meant there needed to be nearly no stops and no interruptions. Luckily, there were neither.

Sebastian decided to go on ahead changing horses along the empire stations as needed. Leon accompanied him so the two made better time than the slower, more awkward wagon team. It only took the two men a day and a half and it helped they didn't need the extra baggage that the team required. Once they reached the city limits, Sebastian and Leon made their way to check in at the Heideck Hurters' barracks, with the plan to head to the town hall afterwards.

Getting to the barracks wasn't easy. Heideck was five times more populous than Tierheim and enjoyed a bit more of a cosmopolitan atmosphere, good or bad. The small city, since it was too large to be a town, enjoyed many buildings, some even three stories, and so finding their way through the streets was tougher than usual. It didn't help that a week-long harvest festival was in full swing, topped with the fact that Heideck sat at the junction of the Old Dwarf Road that connected Averheim to Grenzstadt, and the Averland Path. The Path, which was definitely more traversed so should have been called a Road, connected Averheim to the western portions of Averland, including the towns and cities of Bernloch and Agbeiten. This gave Heideck the extra commerce and trade that Tierheim lacked and the city showed it with extravagant statues and, of course, the festival. Once they found the headquarters of the Hurters, they tied their horses and stood in front of the building.

The headquarters itself had a small sign showing the Blood Bowl official logo of the spiked ball, and also similar to Tierheim, they had a larger sign with the team logo- a huffing bull ready to charge. In the front, flags of black and brown were hung along with the yellow and black flag of Averland, which sported an angry sun in the center.

Leon walked to the door and opened it for Sebastian, setting off the small bell to alert the inhabitants someone had entered. Inside in the open waiting room, chairs and a long sofa dotted around the floor in front of a desk. Behind the desk sat a rather bored looking concierge. Sebastian walked up with Leon and stood in front of the older woman, who wore a blue and brown dress, with white ruffles topping off the ends of the sleeves.

"Can I help you, my Lord," she asked barely looking up from pictures of a fashion parchment.

"Yes, my lady," Sebastian said. "I am Lord Ginter, and I represent the Tierheim Tigers and wish to meet with the Coach, a Mr. Haverstein."

"Coach Haverstein will be with you in one minute. Please take a seat, sir."

Leon made his way to a chair and sat. Sebastian decided instead to look at the posters on the wall. His servant picked up an issue of Spike! Magazine and perused the pages. Along the walls, Sebastian looked at various publications and advertisements of the Hurters. Some were articles on the establishment of the Hurters, or their first games, and some listed the various cups and tournaments the Hurters played in. So far he hadn't seen any major wins but there were several reporters mentioning the potential they had and the close games they played against the Orcland Raiders, the Evil Gits, and the Dwarf Giants. He came to one article published by BB Illustrated that had a quote by Bob Bifford himself- "The Hurters live up to their name. I can't wait to see how they do next year!" He continued through various other articles, mostly pictures for those who couldn't read, mostly local articles, until a large, bearded, muscular man appeared before him.

"Lord Ginter, I presume?" he said, clenching his jaw.

"Correct sir, you presume well. Of whom do I have the honor of addressing?"

"I'm Coach Reinhardt Haverstein. You're here a bit earlier than I thought."

"I do apologize for that, but I like to pride myself in my preparedness. The team should be here in the next two days. I, and my servant, Leon, rode ahead to make sure the team was well rested before the game."

"About that," said the coach, "we sent a letter. The game was moved up to start three days from now."

That did make Sebastian start. Leon put down his magazine. "I must again apologize, because what I believe you just told me was that we are to play in three days. Clearly, this letter here states that we have five days in which we are to play."

Sebastion reached under his cloak and pulled the letter wrapped in a ribbon and presented it to the coach. Haverstein took it, unwrapped it, and did a cursory glance. "I'm sorry, my Lord, but there's nothing we can do. The festival will run long and that's out of our control."

"I'm afraid that's unacceptable, Coach Haverstein. We are a new team and need a couple of days to rest and limber up after several days in wagons."

"I'm also afraid, my Lord, that we were told the same thing as you right now. Believe me, I wouldn't mind a couple of more days myself," the large man said with an unctuous texture.

Sebastian read the countenance of the coach. Sebastian prided himself in not only being organized and prepared, but perspicacious as well. He noticed that Coach Haverstein didn't suggest any anxiety or irritation in his manner. The silly smirk alone let the cat out of the bag showing that either Coach Haverstein truly didn't care or was also part of this devious deception.

Sebastian said, "Unfortunate. I am sure your festival is rather important. However, I will need more time to prepare than what has been given."

The coach shrugged. "I am really sorry about this but if you want, I can direct you to Town Hall and you can bring it up with the owner and the mayor."

"Excellent! Would you like to join me?" Coach Haverstein clearly wasn't expecting that because his eyes grew large and he took an imperceptible step back. "Um, sure. Can you give me a moment."

"I'll give you five, my good man. Leon and I will meet you in the front of your barracks. Should we require a horse? I ask because I do not know how far I need to travel."

"Yes. I will get mine as well. I will meet you out front."

Sebastian watched as Haverstein walked towards the receptionist, spoke to her as she nodded and then walked to the back. Sebastina then beckoned Leon and they walked to their horses who were lazily drinking water from the trough. Once they got on the horses, Haverstein came from around back on his own steed and all three made their way to Town Hall.

"I'm really glad you accepted our invitation," Coach Haverstein said. "I honestly didn't think you would."

"Why is that, Coach?" asked Sebastian.

"Well, for starters, you're new, of course."

"And?"

"And what?"

"And you said, 'for starters', meaning there was something else other than the fact that we're new."

"Well…"

"Yes?"

"You're Tierheim. No offense, but you're a small town and there can't be much of a pool of solid players to pull from."

"Ah," said Sebastian, "I actually do take a slight offense from your words, Coach."

"Oh?"

"Well, judging from the people walking around here, I see you don't have much of a pool yourself. Sure, you've been an established team for a couple of years but you seem only to have pride in the fact you only lost to the Gouged Eye two nil. Which may be a feather in your cap but you seem to try to turn victory out of mediocrity. At the very least, you did have a few wins. Granted, I've never heard of the teams you beat, but I'm sure there is something to be proud of in that."

Sebastian did not fail to notice the irritation swelling in Haverstein. His grip tightened on the reins, his veins bulging along his arms. "Very funny, my Lord. Perhaps we'll see on the field. You may not have had the time to visit our stadium. Very nice. Seats around twenty thousand."

"Impressive," said Sebastian looking towards a statue dedicated to Nuffle in the form of a Blood Bowl player raising a spiked ball towards the heavens. "Of course, it would be more impressive if you filled all of those seats. I have found that an empty stadium deeply depresses me. What do you say, Leon?"

Leon shrugged.

"And, Coach, I hear you did rather well in the Averland Cup. At least you ended up in the top ninety five percent of the teams who bothered to show up."

"We didn't have a good draw, my Lord, Haverstein said through clenched teeth. Had Sebastian not m=been of noble birth, it might have been interesting to hear what Haverstein really wanted to say. "Streissen was first and that damned new guy, Griff Oberwald-"

"But three interceptions and seven turnovers? I hope we are able to give you a good showing at the very least. Especially as this wonderful festival was able to force you to have to play us immediately after we get off the wagon-"

"Wait a minute-"

"- I am sure you had no part in the decision making," Sebastian said, waving his hand in a dismissive way. "You are just the coach, after all, not the owner. I understand how you may have your team's interest at heart but if the owner throws the stick, sometimes you're forced to fetch."

"Sir," said Haverstein visibly seething, grabbing his reins tighter, "We're here."

"Excellent!"

The three men pulled up in front of a stone mansion in the middle of the city. Sebastian had seen more impressive town halls, but he did have to admit this was a fairly good showing for Heideck. Averland and Heideck banners hung down from the greaves of the building. In front was the flag of Averland on a pole while the flag of Heideck hung lower on a separate pole.

They dismounted and walked towards the four storied building. Four columns at the top of wide, short stone stairs completed the classic look of the building. Walking through, they entered a large, open area with an equally large and wide staircase leading from the center to the second floor. A railed balcony wrapped itself around a circular arena. Haverstein looked back to the men, possibly expecting for his guests to be impressed but Sebastian had been to multiple palaces and mansions. Leon looked as if he was simply walking into any generic tavern in any city of the Empire.

Haverstein motioned them towards the center staircase and once at the landing, they walked to the left. Each side of the landing had a single stone staircase leading to the third floor. Once they made that trek, the three men walked down the hallway to an iron door. In front was a desk with a secretary behind it. The man had spectacles, like Sebastian, but no facial hair and looked to be in his late teens. Faint wrinkles still made an appearance in various places on his forehead and was currently transcribing something from one parchment to another.

Haverstein spoke to the young man and the secretary ushered them through the door. Inside was a vast room with many windows. In the center of the room was an intricate wooden desk. The floors were covered in various areas with ornate rugs which appeared to Sebastian to be Estalian or Tilean in style. At a long table to the left of the room were various and sundry fruits and vegetables on platters. Several pitchers and glasses were placed along the table as well. What was more interesting were the two men standing behind the desk, who turned away from the large window overlooking the city to see the visitors. One was very tall, lanky, and wore fine clothing, designating him as a nobleman. The second was shorter but just as lean with a beard of white, also dressed in finery and looking quite noble as well.

"Coach Haverstein," said the bearded man, "whom do you bring to us?"

"This is Lord Sebastian Ginter, my Lord, and his servant. Lord Ginter, this is Lord Schuler, mayor of Heideck, and Lord Volker, owner of the Heideck Hurters."

"A pleasure, my lords," said Sebastian bowing.

"A pleasure as well," said Lord Schuler as they both bowed. "To what do we owe this honor?"

"My lords, it is my honor to be the vanguard of the Tierheim Tigers in their inaugural match against the esteemed Heideck Hurters."

Leon looked over to Haverstein who was clearly biting his tongue. "Welcome, good sir, and your team. They are here already," asked Lord Volker.

"No, sir, I am here slightly ahead of schedule in order to procure the itinerary for my team and their logistical needs."

Lord Schuler walked to one of the pitchers and poured a glass. "Lord Ginter, a glass of Grenzstadter Red?"

"Please, you honor me, sir."

Lord Schuler poured a second glass and handed it to Sebastian. The two touched glasses and raised them in a toast. "To a fair and glorious match ahead," said Lord Schuler.

"Coach Haverstein has expressed his disappointment in being the messenger to inform me that when my team gets here in two days, they will play the following morning."

"Ah," said Lord Volker. "It is unfortunate, but that is the way of things. It's the festival, you see."

"I'm afraid I am short-sighted and not as experienced as you two gentlemen are, because, well, I simply don't see."

The two noblemen looked at Sebastian and smiled as if they would to a student who didn't understand a simple mathematical equation. Lord Schuler said, "I assure you, this is out of our hands. Although we are in positions of authority, we are but mere servants to those who have entrusted their appointments and desires to us. The festival has run longer than its scheduled time because the people are having a fun and profitable time. We simply had to move the game forward because the end ceremonies would fall on the same day."

"It seemed odd to me, so odd, in fact, that I thought it was a simple mistake by Coach Haverstein," said Sebastian.

"Oh?" asked Lord Volker.

"Well, Coach Haverstein had nothing but praise and admiration for the two of you, especially you, Lord Schuler, that it seemed to him to be a late minute change. How silly it would be for a mayor to miscalculate events in his own city, I thought, but seeing as a festival can be complicated in handling, I could see how communication could be, well, for lack of vocabulary- screwy."

"You are right that it is complicated," said Lord Schuler. "I do appreciate your magnanimity in allowing the changes to occur without challenge."

"Oh," said Sebastian," well as to that."

"Oh?" asked Lord Schuler.

"Well, my Lord, I was simply wondering, as mayor of this fine town, if you could simply put us back on the scheduled time."

"I'm afraid we can't. Again, the festival has run longer than anticipated, surely you must see that."

"Again, I do apologize for my ignorance," smiled Sebastian, "but I noticed many advertisements of the game for the time you have corrected us to play."

"And," said Lord Volker, "what of it? Surely, this is a wonderful event for our two teams to meet on a pitch, especially after our shared histories."

"I only bring this to notice because the printing time and labor to place them along many of the streets we passed would indicate that this complication had to have been known a week before we left from Tierheim. I'm curious. Outside Averheim, naturally, are your post carriers not as efficient as those of Grenzstadt or Hochsleben? They have very good couriers and seem to do well to inform us of current events."

Lord Schuler put his glass down on his desk. "Are you suggesting, sir, that we have contrived a conspiracy to put your team in a pitiful situation?"

"My Lords, forgive me," said Sebastian. "I thought I was quite clear. I am not suggesting anything of the sort. I am merely asking questions. As you can see, I am a little put off because I hadn't planned for this event."

"Oh?" asked Lord Volker, a slight bemusement in his voice. "What did you plan for?"

"To be honest, sir, I planned for a fair match. I am, as you perceive, not from Tierheim, nor am I from anywhere of the central region."

"Your accent sounds as though you're from Lengenfeld," said Lord Schuler.

"Almost precisely, sir. You have quite an ear for dialects. I was born only a dozen miles from Legenfeld. So you perceive that I am unaccustomed with the rivalry between Heideck and Tierheim."

"Do you pretend, sir," said Lord Volker, "there is a rivalry?"

"Most assuredly, sir," said Sebastian. "And I rather like it, if I am an honest man, and I would like to think I am."

"Why would you like that," chuckled Lord Schuler.

"Money, to be clear," said Sebastian. "Rivalries, most especially in sports, offer opportunities in rivalries. Travel, commerce, trade, merchandise- can all be fueled by a rivalry. This is not to even mention the personal pride of the competitors"

"What are you saying, exactly," asked Lord Volker.

"Well, gentlemen, I have been told by many sources that Heideckers were known for their pride and integrity. I hope to speak to both of those attributes so that we can come to an agreement."

Lord Schuler poured another glass of wine. "I am sorry, sir, but we cannot change the festival ceremonies and thus cannot change the date of the match."

"I understand, Lord Schuler, I truly do. I am a businessman who has never had to run a city. And to be appointed personally by the acting Elector tells me that you are someone who has earned their position on being clever and being loyal. Maybe one day, favors will see me on this path. Until then, I offer you a proposition."

Lord Volker said, "I'm sorry. What sort of proposition?"

Sebastian looked at the two noblemen. He knew by their countenance they were not expecting the conversation to be driven like this. "Well, sirs, I offer this. Due to the circumstances of the festival ceremonies, which I completely understand as being out of your control, I would think proper compensation could be displayed as a good faith measure. Because your festival has been so popular, there are reporters and journalists throughout this fine city. Several have written to me that they wish to cover our match. There is nothing the media likes more than to run with a story not entirely true. But imagine if we could control their story."

Lord Schuler, Lord Volker, and Coach Haverstein all shared quizzical glances to each other. Sebastian continued, "What better way to show good faith amongst your city and my town that even though we had to play without benefit of rest and practice, the city of Heideck offered to pay for our lodging and food and even increased the purse of the winnings across the board."

"Lord Ginter, I'm afraid you are mistaken," laughed Lord Schuler. "We can't just change the winnings or immediately pay the bills for your team."

"Oh, I am sure, Lord Schuler, with your influence and goodwill, you would be able to do just that, especially if you had the influence to change a Blood Bowl date for the benefit of your city. And what better way to show the multiple publications- rivals or no, Heideck does what is right. Bottom line, that would show the region how serious this city is about cultivating the culture of sportsmanship and camaraderie, not just in this region, but all of Averland. Not many teams do this, I grant you that, which only makes it more of a story. When I spoke with Jimmy Romheim, he was ecstatic about the opportunity to cover our story between the two towns."

Lord Volker perked up. "Jimmy Romheim? Of Blood Bowl Magazine?"

Sebastian nodded, "Apparently, he also has a segment on Cabalvision called "Romheim is Burning". I hear it's quite popular. At any rate, gentlemen, what a boone to public relations to our two organizations."

Lord Volker sauntered to Lord Schuler and spoke in his ear. He then turned to Sebastian, "Excuse us for a moment," and fingered the Coach to meet with them. After a few moments, Lord Volker walked to Sebastian with his hand outstretched. Sebastian took it for a handshake. Lord Volker said, "It would be an honor in good faith, to help compensate your team for being so inconvenienced."

"I very much appreciate that, Lord Volker. Is there something we can sign to make it official, and copy of coure, as well as the city stamp?"

"Naturally," said Lord Schuler. "We can have that within ten minutes."

"I would love nothing better," said Sebastian. "Except of course, a little more wine, but, unfortunately, I have other appointments to make."

The formalities ended, with two copies of the new contract signed for the upcoming match. In lieu of the hardships placed upon the Tierheim Tigers due to an unexpected city ceremony and festival, all food and lodging costs to the Tigers would be paid for by the city of Heideck, along with an increase of the purse from ten thousand to fifteen thousand for a win, from five thousand to seven thousand, five hundred for a tie, and from one thousand to two thousand, five hundred for a loss.

Sebastian and Leon left the town hall and climbed to their horses. As they rode towards a tavern for lodging, Leon looked at Sebastian with a smile. "What?" asked Sebastian.

Leon raised his eyebrow.

Sebastian laughed. "Well, hopefully we can find Jimmy Romheim and convince him to cover the match! Shanking Heideckers."

Chapter 21

"That moment when I step on the field, I can already hear the pain I am going to inflict on the other team. Sometimes I get so excited, I have to run off the pitch and go pee!"

-Elijah Doom, lineman for the Darkside Cowboys

"Shanking Heideckers," said Coach Junger. The team got in late evening two days after Sebastian had his ridiculous meeting with Lords Schuler and Volker. They didn't have time to check out the field- only enough time to secure their wagons, check their team in, and make sure the stable for Bovva was cleaned before he rested. Travelling was never fun but to do a turn around so quickly was ridiculous. Coach Junger remembered barnstorming back in the day, and under those circumstances, he hadn't a quibble. However, moving a locked in date was poor form. It was fortuitous that Sebastian rode earlier and was able to somewhat alleviate their situation. That gave a lot of testament to his diplomatic prowess. Had it not been for that, Coach Junger may have simply turned around and taken the team home. Of course, he couldn't simply do that without consequences from the NAF. Forfeiting was highly frowned upon, even for exhibition games. Once word gets out that a team has a history of forfeiting, they might as well dissolve.

The next morning, the day of the game, preparations were hastily made. Captain Sigmund made sure everyone was getting ready while Coach Junger performed any last second changes.

Coach Junger looked around the locker room at his team putting on their equipment. With women on the roster, most teams needed two separate rooms, but this was a Tierheim team so no one cared, looked, or made a big deal out of it. Besides, there was only one room for them anyways. "Let's go team, get strapped so we can check out the field."

He stepped out of the room into the hallway leading to the pitch through an archway with an iron-barred gate. The gate was open with a town watchman in Heideck livery posted at the entrance. From in here he could hear the settling of the bleachers overhead, the wood creaking and bending from the weight of the fans. He could hear various chants from the open archway of various fans singing various melodies of various clubs. Even though there was a game between two teams, fans of all sorts came to support their own clubs, whether those teams played or not. Coach Junger reminisced about playing the Dwarf Giants in Three Towers Stadium and fans of the Elfheim Eagles started a brawl with fans of the Darkside Cowboys. It took nearly nearly half an hour before the game could commence.

The coach walked to the archway but stopped short of passing through. He nodded to the guard who nodded back. The sun was nearing noon and was shining bright. All of the smells combined to make a Blood Bowl cornucopia: freshly cut grass, Halfling Chefs' creations, old, musty stank of the hallways; Coach Junger missed playing for the Altdorf Acolytes. The Griswell Memorial Stadium in Altdorf was far larger than this one, but the aromas and sounds were the same. From across the field, he could even see a rather large gathering of fans from Tierheim. Red and yellow colored that section of stands, surrounded by a plethora of blues and browns of the Heideckers. He would never admit this, but one of his eyes may have leaked a little.

"Are we ready, Coach?" asked Sebastian, stepping up from behind him."

"Yes. We're ready. Captain Sigmund is pepping them up now."

"Should be a rather short speech then," Sebastian said.

"Heh. You'd be surprised."

Both men could hear the chant from the team through the locker room door. "Okay, coach, I think they may be ready. I am going to the press box. They have a seat for me there and I can get a good overview of the team. And keep my eye on others as well."

"And Leon?" asked Junger.

"He's already in the dugout with Michael and Tomas, getting his apothecary station together. One good thing about having a day to ourselves was getting the supplies together so he can do his magic."

"That makes me feel a little better."

"Coach," said Sebastian, extending his hand. "Good luck."

"Lord Ginter," said the coach, shaking the offering. "To all of us."

Sebastian nodded. "To all of us."

The nobleman walked through the archway and turned to the right. The press box was in the center of stands, astride the midfield line. Coach Junger could see more fans entering. With the date moved up, there were plenty of tourists and travellers for the festival- who wouldn't want to take a break and watch a Blood Bowl game?

The door to the locker room opened with intermittent claps and motivational outbursts. Captain Sigmund led the way and the team trotted to where he stood. "We're ready, coach," said Sigmund.

"That's good," said Coach Junger. "Listen up, people! When we get out to the field, I want you to do your warm-ups while taking note of the pitch. How it feels, how your feet dig in, everything. There are plenty of fans out there for this little game, and a lot of them are Heideckers. This is a stadium none of you have played in before- just remember, it isn't the biggest. The Hurters aren't the Knights, the Acolytes, or the Reavers. They are a bunch of wimps who think they're hot shank because they simply exist. Tierheim is here to put a dent in their feelings and their heads. Do you hear me?!"

"Yes, coach!"

"What was that?"

"Yes, coach!"

"Nuffdammit, if you don't make me think you want this bad enough, then we'll go home! Do you want that?"

"No, coach!"

"Let's get out there and kick some ass!"

"YES, COACH!"

The team ran out at a jog passing Coach Junger. He almost didn't need the cane as he followed them out to the pitch. Red and yellow uniforms filled his eyes taking the field. The small contingent of fans supporting Tierheim erupted into a cacophony of hollers and whoops. Much more noise than should have come out of such a small group. There were plenty of boos as well, but most of the Hurters' fans were at the opposite end of the field and so were drowned out by the Tigers' supporters.

Captain Sigmund immediately led the team into a lap of their half of the field. Coach Junger joined Leon in the area designated for staff. This stadium didn't have a dugout like other stadiums, instead using a simple painted boxed area for everyone. Several benches lined up parallel to the sidelines. The sun was bright, but not sunny while a slight breeze created a nice cooling effect.

Coach Junger peered towards the press box. It seemed to be large enough to hold around twenty people. Some of the taller buildings outside the stadium could be seen reaching above the seven level bleacher. In the middle of the pitch was a massive, painted logo of the Hurters' mascot, the huffing bull, in blue and brown. The endzone on the Tigers side was colored brown, while the endzone on the Hurters side was blue. All in all, it was a nice field. Coach Junger had to give credit where credit was due. Neither team had a large enough following or reputation, so he only spotted one Camra crew, probably getting footage for one of the local affiliate channels. The Elven reporter was about twenty yards away and even Coach Junger could tell that she was completely unimpressed, probably having covered some of the better teams in the sport.

Coach Junger couldn't quite make out who was in the pressbox, and definitely couldn't see Sebastian, but he did see speakers, so this game was going to be announced to the crowd. This was quite a different show than his boys were used to but they were just going to have to get used to it to hullabaloo.

The Tigers' players were stretching while Bovva stood at the touchdown line, looking back and forth between the green grass and the brown endzone. Coach Junger looked to where Leon and the boys were setting up. "Leon, do you have everything?"

Leon stuck a thumb up. "We do, coach!" yelled Michael.

The speakers emanated a little squeak. The crowd could hear the magic crackle through them as they heard someone say, "Testing… testing. Check one. Check one, two. Welcome to Hurters Field, here in the town square district of beautiful Heideck! Today's game will be an exhibition match between your Heideck Hurters and the newly formed Tierheim Tigers!"

The crowd cheered. There looked to be around one thousand fans in the stadium. Halfling Master Chefs moved up and down with their carts while blue and brown clad kids walked through the stands handing out whatever it was they were handing out.

"I am your host, Phillard Doundafew, the voice of the Heideck Hurters. The Hurters would like to thank our official sponsors, Orcidas- for your sportswear needs, or jerseys of you favorite players from around the world, you need Orcidas- Impossibly Awesome. This game is also brought to you by Bloodweiser- If you aren't here for the Blood, why did you even show up at all? McMurty's- pick up a Big Moot sandwich here at the stadium and you could win a ticket to another game! McMurty's- You're loving It or Else! And finally, Zombway- Eat Flesh. Now, please turn your attention to the Heideck home side for your Heideck Hurters!"

The crowd applauded and some whistled as the team came out of the archway that led from their locker room. Blue helmets and pads on brown shirts and pants filled out the team as they ran onto the pitch. Several players jumped up and down and threw their arms to get the crowd involved. Their Ogre laughed loudly as he ran around on the pitch, clapping his hands to the audience.

Coach Junger looked at his team. Their new uniforms looked fairly well, comparatively. The Red helmets with the tiger logo and the yellow uniforms covered with red pads looked great, especially in contrast to the blue and brown of the Hurters.

The announcer cut in again. "Time will be kept at the scoreboard, ladies and gentlemen. We will begin with a ten minute countdown until the game between the Heideck Hurters and the Tierheim Tigers will kick off!"

Coach Junger called his team in. Felix and Dennis stopped throwing to various players and everyone headed into the lined area where Coach Junger stood. A lot of them kept looking around to the stadium and the pressbox. It didn't help that the fans were about three yards behind Coach Junger and many in blue and brown were yelling insults or just being loud. "Come with me!"

Coach Junger limped out to the pitch and the team followed. "Take a knee. This is our first game. I'm going to tell you what is going to happen. We are going to make mistakes. The key to winning this game is what we do with those mistakes. First mistake- getting distracted by the stadium and fans. Keep them out of your head. No good ever came to anyone not paying attention to the game. If you want to listen to the crowd, you can go sit by Michael and Tomas. Second mistake- do not listen to the announcer. Block him out. He's not on the pitch and he doesn't know any of you personally. You should only be listening to each other- specifically, Captain Sigmund and myself. Third mistake- not playing as a team. This is a team sport- this means, Karl, you follow what your Captain says.

"Even if it's stupid?"

"Dammit, Karl, shut up!" said Mila.

"Lukas, you run the plays Sigmund and I set up. I don't mind some improvisation but if you showboat or don't switch to defense the moment we lose the ball, I'm yanking you out."

"Yes, coach!"

"Remember, this game is fun, but winning a game is more fun. Protect each other out there, run your plays, stay focused. You'll do fine if you take what I just said to heart."

All of them said, "Yes, coach!"

A whistle blew and three refs, standing in the center of the pitch motioned for captains to come and do the coin toss. "Sigmund, Katrin, and Lukas- go on. If we win the toss, we receive. If we lose it, we choose this side to defend."

All three acknowledged Coach Junger and trotted off to the center line. The announcer began, "It's time for the coin toss and the refs have called the captains from both sides. For the Tierheim Tigers, we have Captain Sigmund Kahn and for the Heideck Hurters, your very own Captain Hans Stupfer. Head Referee, 'The Grand Old Man of Blood Bowl', Gort Kindersnap is introducing the players. You may remember him in the game between the Evil Gits and the Bright Crusaders several weeks ago. Ref Kindersnap had to physically remove several goblins from the pitch after they tried to use their weapons on him. One of them is still alive, I think. Anyways, it looks like Heideck will call the toss. And the coin goes to the Hurters who have elected to receive the ball while the Tigers defend the southern end zone. The players will now get ready for the start of the game in two minutes. Remember, the time is kept at the scoreboard."

Coach Junger looked to the massive scoreboard where large numbers with holes on one end were placed on large hooks sticking out of the board. Another ref, a Halfling by the looks of it, kept the time and would change the minute number while leaving the seconds number alone. He placed a large 'two' in the minute place and began looking at his timepiece.

Sigmund, Katrin, and Lukas ran back to the team. Coach Junger said, "Here's the lineup- Felix, you go in as thrower. Look for a ball to pop out and make sure you're on it. Help block anyone who needs it."

"Got it, coach."

"Sigmund. You and Katrin are the blitzers who call the shots. Point out openings and pathways for people to get through."

"Yes, coach."

"Oskar, you're the frustrating roadblock. Get in their way at all times."

"Done, coach."

"Mila, you and Lukas are our catchers. Mila, I want you both running safety in our backfield- look for passes and anyone who dares break through and you bring them down. Lukas, I want you causing all sorts of problems in their backfield. You must always look like a scoring threat. Lukas- do not get distracted by their cheerleaders."

"No worries, Coach," Lukas smiled. "They're ugly Heideckers, anyways."

"Wotan and Joachim," block anyone who gets in your way. I need you two to work together and create opportunities for the blitzers to get open hits."

"On it, coach!"

"Bovva. Bovva!"

The Ogre turned to look at the coach. "See that Ogre over there?"

"Yeah, boss."

"Hurt him."

"Okay, boss."

"What about me, coach?" asked Karl.

"Karl- you listen to whenever Sigmund calls for you. Other than that? You are the lightning that hurts anyone on their team."

"YES!"

"Alright, boys and girls, let's get this thing going," said Coach Junger. "Put your hands in."

The whistle blew. "Let's get a win against these shanking Heideckers. On the count of three. One, two, three."

"Tigers!"

"Go team!"

"Yay!"

"Woooo!"

"Tierheim!"

The team turned and sprinted to get to positions. "We'll work on that," said Coach Junger. "Mannfred, Eric, Nufftstian, Gregg. Pay attention to what we're doing right and what we're doing wrong. The moment anyone goes down, I'm calling one of you in to take their place."

"Yes, coach!"

Both teams were set. Ref Kindersnap motioned to each captain who gave a thumbs up. The whistle blew and Oskar kicked the ball downfield.

Chapter 22- First Half

"Play for the team your jersey represents. Then they'll remember the name on the back. Just kidding- most fans can't read."

-Gimir the fast, Dwarven Runner for the Middenheim Maulers

Around ten minutes before kickoff, Sebastian stood in the pressbox. It was a rather sturdy construction with three small rooms side by side overlooking the field and open doorways connecting them. In the center room was the announcer, Phillard Downedafew and he had the announcer's chair. In front of him was a small shelf only about a foot and a half deep attached to the wall. On it were multiple papers strewn about with statistics, names, and rosters. On either side of him were the support staff for the stadium itself. Since they could see the entire arena and what was happening, they could yell messages into a horn-like apparatus that travelled down the height of the tower to a worker down below. They also received messages from these contraptions as well.

In one of the side rooms was about six men and one woman. Sebastian recognized Lord Schuler and Lord Volker from before. The others he hadn't seen before as they were probably cronies of some sort. His room was open only to himself and Leon, his silent sentry. The two NAF representatives from before- Mr. Gregg and Mr. Luft, made their way to the top of the steps. They wore the normal black and red with white borders- livery of the NAF.

Before they could enter, a doorman asked for their passes. "I'm afraid I can't let you pass, sirs," said the man in a rather snooty manner. His close-cropped goatee and slicked hair had a sheen that blatantly reflected the sun streaming in..

"They're with me, my good man," said Sebastian.

"Of course, my Lord, I do apologize," said the doorman with a simple bow.

"Thanks for allowing us to use your box, sir," said Mr. Luft, walking in and taking a seat.

"I beg your pardon," asked Sebastian.

"Your room in the pressbox."

"Ah," said Sebastian, "a simple invitation, really. I am happy for pleasant company."

"Absolutely," said Mr. Luft. "I couldn't agree more."

Sebastian watched the players huddled around Coach Junger. Five minutes until the coin toss. Watching the Hurters warm up wasn't unduly impressive, though it was hard to gauge a team simply by their stretching and throwing a ball around to loosen up.

"Lord Ginter?"

Sebastian turned to see Lord Schuler and Lord Volker in the doorway. He rose and extended his hand. "My Lords," he said. "Have you met Mr. Luft and Mr. Gregg of the NAF?"

"Of course," said Lord Schuler. "They've finally found a way to get up here. Would you care for a drink, sirs?"

A waiter in a blue and brown tunic held a try with several glasses of wine. "I think I will partake. Thank you, my Lord." said Sebastian.

Lord Volker smiled, "So, sir, how did your team fare last night? No trouble, I hope?"

"None whatsoever, Lord Volker. Thank you for the hospitality you have shown my team."

"Speak nothing of it. I think this will be a match we will enjoy. The odds are in our favor of course."

"Excuse me?" asked Sebastian.

Lord Schuler raised his eyebrows, "Lord Volker means the odds if you were to wager on the game."

"Ah, yes," smiled Sebastian. "I am fairly new to this after all. What are the odds if I may ask?"

"Well, according to one to the top bookies, it's five to one in our favor. Do you gamble, sir?"

Sebastian shook his head. "I'm afraid not. The numbers game for me relies on so many variables therefore, it is something I do not wish to participate. 'Any given Blood Bowl game,' as they say. Have you two placed any wagers?"

"Naturally," said Lord Schuler. "But with the odds, I won't see much of a return. No matter, it's for the love of the gamble."

"Are you sure you did not want in on the wager?" asked Lord Volker.

"No, sir, I do not. It would be sheer insanity to bet on a team I haven't seen play. And in this case, it would be both of them."

"Come now, Lord Ginter. I understand your pride," said Lord Schuler. "If you bet for the Hurters, you could come away with more money in your pocket than you are likely to leave with."

"How so?"

Lord Volker placed his hand on Sebastian's shoulder. "The purse for losing, though increased, is still not much to walk away with."

Sebastian looked over to the field. "Not many people believe Tierheim can win?"

"Oh, Lord Ginter, come now. You are young, so please don't be offended. After all, this is a business of sorts," said Lord Volker.

Lord Schuler chuckled. "Have it your way, sir," he said about to leave the area.

"Wait," Sebastian said. "I could make quite a bit of money should I bet on my own team."

"Naturally," said Lord Schuler, "but please don't waste your money. A better gamble would be to put money down on the Hurters."

"I'm sorry, but my hypocrisy in business has a limit. I will put money down on Tierheim. I believe we will prevail. Or tie, at the very least. Therefore, I believe it is a solid wager. Odds for a tie?"

"Three to one. Are you sure you would like to do this," asked Lord Schuler, taking out a small black book. In it he wrote numbers down on a ledger and signed his name. "All you need to do is sign here and the amount you wish to wager."

"That sounds fine, sirs." Sebastian signed his name and wrote ten thousand on the line.

Lord Schuler snapped the book shut and shook Sebastian's hand. "Good luck to you, sir, and your team."

"You as well," said Sebastian.

Once the two lords passed through the doorway to the center room, he could hear them sniggering. "Was that wise," asked Mr. Luft.

"We will have to wait and see, gentlemen. After all, if you can't afford to lose it, you can't afford it."

The ref in the center of the pitch blew the whistle. Phillard Doundafew announced the referees and the captains. The coin toss went to the Hurters who would receive while the Tigers would kick off and defend. A waiter came through with some hors d'oeuvres, and the three men took a small quiche made with spinach. While tasty, Sebastian thought of how much better Garth Hairyfists would have made them. He would have to remember to speak with the Halfling Chef about private catering sections for the stadium once it was built. To get to this size, they would need to make some real money. Maybe a year or four, if Nuffle favored them.

In front of him on the small ledge, Sebastian splayed his papers out. In front were the notes he took about the Hurters, the individual players, and even the referees. Sebastian smiled to himself and was glad he chose to be productive in the last two days. Interviewing Jimmy Romheim and other journalists proved fruitful.

The whistle tweeted again and the teams rushed to the field to set up. The crowd cheered or jeered depending on which side of the stadium you decided to listen to. The rather large and muscular referee, Glort Kindersnap, motioned to the teams, and was greeted with a gesture by both captains. The whistle blew, and Sebastian watched Oskar kick off to the Hurters. The game was now afoot.

Chapter 23

"I eat Blood Bowl. I sleep Blood Bowl. I breathe Blood Bowl. Does this make me crazy? I don't know. Why don't you ask my dead opponents what they think? Oh, wait- you can't! They're dead!"

-H'Thark the Unstoppable, Star Bull Centaur

The first thing that happened was Bovva and the other Ogre punched each other at the same time, both going down. They didn't look to be seriously hurt but may have both been surprised that they both had the same idea. The Hurter who caught the kick called for a cage but could only get three players to help. Wotan and Joachim were tying up their opponents and Lukas was pushing off of him to look for an opening. Captain Sigmund had already smashed down his man, as did Katrin, and both Blitzers were now coming for the cage. Mila danced around the backfield looking for any strays trying to get open for a pass.

Karl headbutted his man into unconsciousness, breaking his own nose in the process. "Karl!" yelled Sigmund, pointing to the cage. "Get him!"

Karl laughed, threw down his man, and leapt onto one of the cage members forcing them both to the ground. Katrin ran into the opening but one of their blitzers connected with her hard and slammed her to the ground. Oskar ran to the blitzer who knocked down Katrin. Sigmund yelled, "Oskar, to the cage!"

Oskar did not need the order and instead headed for Katrin's attacker. He slammed into the blitzer but the man twisted at the moment of impact and flung Okar to the ground. Sigmund slammed into the cage but they had numbers on him and he couldn't break through. "Mila!" he yelled.

Mila raced in and darted through the ruckus to get to the ball carrier. She, too, was met with the third cage member and although she was able to pull him down, the ball carrier was loose, looking for a pass. Katrin got up and shouted to Lukas, "What are you doing, Lukas? You're on defense! Get the ball carrier!"

Both she and Lukas were not involved in any more blocks and sprinted after the thrower. Lukas watched two players coming at them. Katrin stepped in front of Lukas, providing him cover. She knocked the first player down but got caught up with the Hurters' Catcher as he pushed her smaller man attempted to swipe her legs, but she kept moving, causing him to follow her as she backed up. This gave Lukas the time to come around the ball carrier and block the man causing a turnover. Lukas scrambled for the ball but Wotan's opponent had pulled from the fray with Wotan on his heels. The Lineman bowled into Lukas, knocking him down and out. Katrin, in turn, blocked the Lineman pushing him from picking up the ball. Wotan made it to the fray and was able to double team the player with Katrin.

Lukas was still unconscious when Katrin picked up the ball and ran with Wotan down the field. Joachim came to join them as did Oskar. The Hurters marshalled a rally and were able to direct their assault on the Tigers' cage. One of the Hurters stomped on Mila's head as she was trying to get up. She lay limp immediately and Sigmund could see she was out. He looked to the ref for a call off a foul but all refs were preoccupied with the scrum occurring around the cage. The Captain was trying to figure out what to deal with: Mila's fouler or help with the cage. The decision was made for him when Karl came in screaming with a flying elbow to the side of the fouler's head.

Sigmund ran to the cage to help but it was too late. The cage had been broken down and now one of the Hurters' Catchers had the ball. The woman peeled around towards the sideline. On the way past Lukas' body, the Catcher used the unconscious Tigers' catcher's back to help launch her farther down the field. Sigmund called foul but the ref motioned for play to continue. As the Tigers tried to race the Catcher down, both of the Ogres attempted to get up.

It didn't matter for the two Ogres because the Hurters scored and the whistle blew. The crowd erupted and cheered while the Tierheim contingent booed and whistled. Sigmund ran up to Kindersnap. The Head Ref was a full head taller than the large Sigmund. They both stared each other down. "How could you miss that foul on my Catcher, ref?"

"It's part of the play, not a blatant foul," said Kindersnap. "That's the final ruling. Now get out of my face or get off the field, Captain."

Sigmund turned around steaming and the team quickly moved towards the sideline where Coach Junger stood. Mila and Lukas were taken off the pitch to be replaced by Mannfred and Nuffstian.

"The Hurters score with a brilliant run from Silena Donner, and the Hurters are up one nil," said the announcer across the stadium. Sebastian walked to the center room. Downedafew was switching off between the stadium speakers and the private magic phone intended for those tuning in to what may have been the local channel for the Camra viewing. "The captain for the Tigers, Sigmund Kahn had some words for Glort Kindersnap, the Head Ref, probably trying to get the perfectly legal stomp from Donner on Lukas Lahm before the score, but Kindersnap was hearing none of it. The Tigers quickly go to their Head Coach for some tactical reworkings. It also appears that Lukas Lahm and Mila Matthaus are taken to the apothecary while Mannfred Dietz and Nuffstian Beem will substitute for them. A fairly quick score for the Hurters, we'll see if the Tigers have an answer for them."

Sebastian looked through the doorway over to Lord Schuler's room who shrugged and smiled. Lord Volker was sipping some wine, laughing at some joke one of his men must have said. Sebastian walked back to his room where Mr. Luft and Mr. Gregg were writing down some notes. Mr. Luft raised his head and said, "No worries, Lord Ginter. A brand new team always needs to find their legs."

"Let's hope they do it real quick, Mr. Luft," said Mr. Gregg. "The Tigers are down two starting players."

Sebastian nodded and sat back down looking through his own notes. A horn for messaging to runners down below protruded from the wall. Sebastian spoke into it, "Simon, please inform Coach Junger that fouling season is open on the Tigers and they will need to focus on a possible zone defense to prevent further fouls. If Kindersnap sees the fouls, maybe he will call them."

Simon raced to the Coach as he was chatting with the team. Once he reached the players, Coach Junger motioned him in and listened to the message. The coach nodded and yelled to his team. "Alright, we're going to try something a little different. Sigmund, Katrin, and Oskar, the three of you will create the cage. Felix, either you or Dennis will carry the ball. Whichever one of you doesn't have the ball, you will join the others and make the last portion of the cage. Karl and the rest will run screens around the cage. Remember, Blood Bowl is not personal, so don't take it that way. If you focus on personal paybacks, you hurt the team. Oskar, Sigmund- understand me?"

"Yes, coach!"

"Get back out there!"

The whole team yelled in the affirmative and ran to get in position. The Hurters lined up and the Tigers met them. Bovva faced off again against their Ogre while Wotan and Joachim lined up on either side of Bovva against a couple of blitzers. Mannfred and Nuffstian set up on the outsides of Wotan and Joachim to make a five man scrimmage line. The blitzers lined up on the outside with Dennis lining up with Felix in the backfield.

The whistle blew and just before the kick was made, the Hurter defense repositioned themselves in a better spot with their Ogre now facing off against Wotan and Mannfred. Their blitzers moved away from Bovva and faced Joachim and Nuffstian. Bovva looked confused as to what player to hit.

The ball came down into Felix's hands, but he dropped it. The Hurters' Ogre slammed into the Tiger linemen knocking them both back. Bovva, without direction, went for the nearest player who dodged out of his way. This angered Bovva, so he gave chase. Oskar, Sigmund and Katrin ran back to cover Felix getting the ball. Karl ran to his nearest opponent and levelled him. Dennis went to help with Mannfred and Wotan dealing with the ogre. This left the wide lane open for a couple of Hurters' players to race towards the ball.

Sigmund directed Oskar and Katrin to deal with the two players now in their backfield. Felix snagged the ball and ran behind Sigmund. The Hurters' Ogre pounded Mannfred into the ground and smacked Wotan, causing the two of them to drop to the ground. Sigmund peeled off to deal with the charging Ogre. He sidestepped away from the first strike, causing the Big Guy's momentum to send him off balance. Felix was so focused on Sigmund that he didn't see the Hurters' Thrower blitz him, knocking the ball from his hands. The two throwers hit the ground. The ball ended up bouncing out of bounds. One of the Hurters' fans picked it up by reaching over the short barrier and tossed it back in towards several of the Hurters players.

The fans cheered and the Hurters' Lineman who caught the ball saluted in thanks. And then was bulldozed by Karl. The ball squirted out towards the Hurters' endzone, but Karl couldn't get to it since two players began to block him. Sigmund and Oskar came in to help but the Hurter's Ogre had quickly regained his balance and immediately sprinted to where a scrum was forming. Oskar peeled away to take on the Ogre. Having an Ogre cage up was very bad news. The Ogre lifted Oskar and tossed him several yards away. The blitzer landed on his side with an audible crunch. Oskar jumped up immediately and hit the surprised Ogre in the legs, knocking the Big Guy down and into the ball carrier.

However, all this did was push the man with the ball carrier farther from the action and he was able to peel away and run up the sideline. A partial cage surrounded him and although the Tigers were able to regroup, Bovva was nowhere around since he was still chasing a very agile Catcher who was taunting the Ogre away from the action. Wotan and Mannfred were of no help since they were face down in the dirt.

With two men down and an ogre out of action, the Tigers were down in numbers. Sigmund and Katrin were blocking everyone they could. Dennis pushed back against a Lineman as well. Felix tripped up his opponent and got to the ball-carrier only to be stiff-armed him back down. The scrum was moving slowly upfield towards the Tigers end zone. With all of the blocking going on, the numbers were too much, and the Tiger defense kept getting pushed back until finally, their Ogre blitzed through the main defense and opened an alley for Silena Donner to race through and score again.

"The Hurters score for a second touchdown with a caged run by Silena Donner!" said the announcer. "We have seven minutes left in the first half, ladies and gentlemen. Be sure to stay for the halftime show, brought to you by the Heideck High Steppers, Heideck's very own high-stepping steppers!"

Sebastian watched the team getting pummelled. Mila and Lukas were still unconscious, and would be joined with Mannfred and Wotan who looked to be quite hurt. Fear started to creep into his bones, but it was important to not let it show. Not fear of losing, that was part of the game. More of a fear of losing his players. The Tigers needed to pick up the pieces and maybe try to mitigate the loss.

Sebastian could hear Phillard Doundafew in the next room speaking to the local broadcast. "It looks like the Tigers' inexperience is definitely showing through. That's two unanswered touchdowns without much of a threat from the offense. Coach Haverstein must be extremely happy right now as he is high-fiving every player. And a butt smack for good measure, too! It looks as though Wotan Lowe and Mannfred Dietz may be out for the rest of the game. Oh, it looks as though Lukas Lahm and Mila Matthaus are back in action for Lowe and Dietz. That's one way to tag team players in, I guess. The apothecary is surely making his paycheck today. Coach Junger is clearly not happy with his team and it shows. He even reached up and pulled the jersey of their Ogre, Bovva, yelling in his face. That's a brave coach, I will say."

Coach Junger stood as much as he could to Bovva. "Bovva, did you hear me?"

"Yes, boss."

"What did I say for you to do?"

"Hurt their Ogre, boss."

"Bovva, if you can't hurt that Ogre, I'll get someone else to do it. Maybe I'll get Karl to do it."

Bovva looked at Karl who smiled with his broken nose and dried blood on his face. "I'll do it, boss, if our big dumb oaf can't do it."

"Good. Let's get out there and make an actual play for once!"

Bovva squinted his eyes in consternation at Karl. "You big dumb oaf! I can do it!"

"I know!" said Karl. "It takes one to know one! We're probably the biggest, dumbest oafs on the team! But guess what, Bovva?"

"What?"

"That means we're the only ones that can take out their Ogre. Let's go take him out, Bovva! Wooooo!"

From the press box, Sebastian watched the team set up in position. He then sauntered to the center room where Lord Schuler was berating one of the waiters for not getting his drinks fast enough. The waiter walked towards Sebastian with his earlier order, looking a bit demoralized. "Thank you, my good man," said Sebastian.

The waiter raised his head. "Of course, Lord Ginter."

"Is it possible if I could get some for my friends, Mr. Luft and Mr. Gregg"?

"Of course, Lord Ginter." The waiter walked into the room and served the NAF men. Lord Volker came out of his adjoining room and joined Sebastian as they watched the pitch over the shoulder of Phillard Doundafew.

"Well, sir, I hope you won't miss your money too much," said Lord Volker with a smirk.

"Bah, it's only money," said Sebastian, "besides it's still early."

The whistle blew and everyone watched Bovva bring his massive fist down on the Hurters' Ogre, blood exploding from his face. The Ogre crumpled to the ground.

"That's a big hit by Bovva, the Tigers' Ogre, against Yogg, the Hurters' Ogre. I don't know what Coach Junger said, but Bovva has pummelled the Hurters' Big Guy!"

"See, Lord Volker?" smiled Sebastian. "It's still early."

With the Ogre out of commission, the Tigers team got a jolt of confidence. Felix was running to get to where most of the blitzers were to form a cage. This left an opening when Nuffstian stumbled back and was knocked down. Three of the Hurters' Blitzers ran through the gap to capitalize and smashed into Felix. Oskar stepped in the way to get pushed back by the charge and Karl slammed into one blitzer through his legs. The crunch of armor reverberated and the blitzer lay prone, unmoving.

The rest of the Hurters' slammed into the cage and began to push them back. Lukas was downfield but was having trouble losing his man. Mila, who was just behind Lukas, ran up the wide lane and jumped with her legs to the opponent's neck, wrapping her legs around him and flipping herself in a way to allow her momentum to wrestle him to the ground. Lukas was now open for a pass and Felix threw it downfield. It wasn't a beautiful spiral, but it was accurate. Once Lukas caught the ball he was immediately pushed by the Hurters' Thrower. Dennis, who was told to help form cages if he didn't have the ball, ran up and blocked the Thrower off Lukas who ran towards the end zone.

Several Hurters broke free from their engagements to chaseLukas down but his speed led him too far from them. "The Tigers score to stay in the game," said Phillard Doundafew. "Lukas Lahm with the first touchdown for the Tigers!"

Lukas ran up to the small barrier where there were several Elven women in purple and orange colors of the Elfheim Eagles. He paused to chat at them and smooched one on the cheek. She was clearly disgusted and wiped her face in anger but Lukas didn't seem to care as he trotted back to midfield. The whistle blew, signaling the end of the first half.

From his room, Sebastian heard the announcer say, "That was a mighty blow the Tiger's Ogre gave the Hurters' as it seems Yogg is out of the game. The Hurters' have lost their two-nil lead and need to rethink their strategy for the second half. And that's also the whistle for the end of the first half." Phillard switched to the stadium announcements. "Kindersnap calls for the end of the half. Tigers, one, and your Heideck Hurters in the lead with two. Now, everyone welcome the Heideck High-steppers!"

Sebastian looked over to the far room where Lord Schuler and Lord Volker were whispering with their friends, outright clenching their words. Clearly, an unhappiness was settling over in the room. One of the men came out to the center room and whispered in Phillard's ear who also nodded.

The waiter came into Sebastian's room to offer some hors d'oeuvres to the NAF men and the nobleman. The doorman walked in as well to say something to the sentry, pointing to the stairwell. The sentry nodded and walked over to the steps. The waiter whispered in Sebastian's ear. The nobleman clapped the waiter on the shoulder and went as fast as he could to the locker room. He needed to find Coach Junger, and fast.

Chapter 23- Second Half

"You can win by talent and hard work. But I found it was way easier to win by cheating!"

-"Rotten" Rick Bupkeis, Awarded Best Fouler 2481, Cleveland Crescents

Sebastian made his way back to the pressbox. The doorman smiled at him and let him through. Lord Volker immediately walked up, "Quite a game so far, my Lord."

"Agreed, my Lord. Quite exciting. I think this could help start quite a lucrative rivalry between our two towns."

"I don't know if I like the word, 'rivalry'," said Lord Volker. "The word tends to have negative connotations to it."

"I suppose it does. But I think it's quite apt for a sports metaphor. Would competition suit your purposes more?"

"Competition is better, yes. So, Lord Ginter, have you predicted how the game will end?"

"Well," said Sebastian, "I think our chances are even better now that we are up on a Big Guy."

"Indeed," said Lord Volker, unusually smiling at the statement. "Of course, it will mean more if he's able to finish the game."

"Agreed. I hope he does."

"You're Lukas Lahm is quite fast as well."

"He is. I must admit, he does have a motivating factor that will not be in his favor in the second half when the teams switch fields."

"Oh?"

"Well, there are no Elven women at the other end zone. Quite the rake, Lukas is."

"We've all been there," said Lord Volker. "Let's see if that will be the only factor motivating him," said Lord Volker.

"That's a rather interesting statement," said Sebastian.

"Is it? Well, good luck to you and your team," said Lord Volker. Sebastian nodded and took note of the sly smiles between Lord Volker, Lord Schuler, and the others.

Sebastian sat back down. Mr. Luft and Mr. Gregg stared at him. "You know, Lord Ginter," said Mr. Luft, "I have a strange feeling there are surprises coming your way."

"It's a certainty," said Sebastian. " I didn't for one minute think Heideck wouldn't do whatever it takes to win this game."

"Oh?"

Sebastian looked over to the sentry. "Let's see how it pans out for everyone."

The whistle blew and the Tigers received. Dennis caught it this time and immediately ran for the right side. Oskar pulled away from his man and joined the run with Katrin and Nuffstian. Coach Junger tried to spot the player with the magic item. When Bovva dropped to the ground, he went down hard. One of the players had the glove. Coach Junger yelled, "Number ten! Number ten!"

Oskar watched as number ten blitzed him. Ready for the charge, Oskar dipped his shoulder, but the player slugged him with his fist and Oskar dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes. This time, he did not pop back to his feet.

Dennis was wide open for a hit by an opposing Lineman behind number ten. The tackle forced him to drop the ball and was lucky to not go over the partition into the crowd. Silena Donner picked the ball up again and ran towards the end zone. Number ten hit Katrin and she fell to the ground. Instead of running for Silena, Mila ran for number ten. As he reared back to hit the oncoming Catcher, she side-stepped around him and put a boot in his crotch. Number ten fell to his knees and then his body. She then picked his gloved hand and smacked him in this face with it, knocking him unconscious. Silena Donner scored for the third time. The crowd cheered and the whistle blew. "Touchdown number three for the Hurters and hat trick for Silena Donner!" announced Doundafew. "That's three to one in favor of your Heideck Hurters!"

Sigmund raced to Kindersnap and they chatted. He then pointed the player out to Kindersnap who blew the whistle again. The Head Ref marched over while the other two refs ran to see what was happening. Number ten was getting dragged up by one of his teammates. "Let me see that glove," said Kindersnap.

"This one," asked the player, holding up the opposite hand of number ten.

"Don't be cute, boy. Show me that glove. You are suspected of bringing an illegal

magical item on the field."

"That's crazy," said the player, "donning the glove himself.

"Now, boy." Kindersnap said, drawing himself to his full height.

"This glove, here, right," asked the player as he made for a swing.

Without moving anything but his arm, Kindersnap grabbed the man's wrist, pulled it back, and snapped it at an impossible angle. The man shrieked. Kindersnap pulled the glove off and examined it. He then blew the whistle and raised a red card toward the crying player. And one to number ten who was just regaining consciousness. "Off you go, boy."

Kindersnap then made a direct path towards Coach Haverstein. "You will not replace either player. If I find out he acted under your direction, you will be fined and forced to sit out of your next league game."

The large coach held his hands up to Kindersnap. "I didn't know he had that, Ref, I swear."

"I tell you what," said Kindersnap. "One more infraction, and you're gone, understand? You will forfeit this game."

"You can't do that," said Coach Haverstein. "You're just the Ref, not the NAF. Wait until the BBRC hears about this. This is our field."

Kindersnap stepped face to face with Coach Haverstein again. Although the coach was muscular, Kindersnap was more. And broader. And taller. Haverstein took a step back. "Any field I walk on is my field, boy," said the Head Ref. "Try me."

Haverstein said nothing. Kindersnap spun around. Coach Junger could have sworn he saw several players put away knives and what looked like a small bomb. Doundafew announced, "It looks like the Hurters' are down to nine players after the illegal use of a magical item, and a poor choice to argue with the referee. The score still stands at three to one, for the Hurters.

Mr. Luft exhaled loudly. "I didn't see that coming," he said.

Sebastian looked over to him and then to the waiter.. "Neither did I."

Mr. Luft and Mr. Gregg gave him knowing grins. Sebastian went to the center room to see about a drink. "It appears," said Doundafew, "the Hurters' were caught with a magical item, a glove that would break someone's armor the moment it hit them. It's a shame number 10, Adam Bieber, decided on his own that the Hurters needed a little extra to win this game. I am sure Coach Haverstein is angry with the player. This may be the last time Bieber sees the field for the Hurters. As for number nine, Dirken Dumpf, who argued with Ref Kindersnap, hopefully he hasn't received a career ending injury."

Lord Volker walked out to get a drink and spotted Sebastian sipping some wine. "I do apologize, Lord Ginter. I swear this was unbeknownst to the coach or myself."

"It was lucky for you as it led to another touchdown. Unlucky that now you are down a Big Guy, and now a Blitzer and Catcher," said Sebastian. "I just hope we don't have any seriously injured players due to this oversight."

Sebastian could tell Lord Volker's hairs raised at the last statement. "I hope, for Nuffle's sake," said Sebastian, "this is the last illegal surprise we see."

"As do I, sir," said Lord Volker. The nobleman spun on his heel back to his room and Sebastian sipped more wine.

"Down by two in the second half is never a good thing, Lord Ginter," said Mr. Gregg.

"I entirely agree with you, my good man," Sebastian said. "But one thing I have learned from Tierheim in my short stay there is that they are a tenacious people. Whatever time we have left will be interesting, to say the least."

Leon worked vigorously in getting Katrin back on the pitch. Oskar and Bovva were fine, though a bit disoriented. Michael and Tomas raced to get the meds needed before the referee called everyone for the start of the next drive. Coach Junger spoke to the team and put Gotze in for Katrin for the time being. The young man looked about as nervous as you'd expect from someone his age playing a game where for the first time, the injuries were very real and in front of a large audience.

Coach Junger pulled him in close. "Listen, Gotze, it's just a game. You have a spot on the Tigers and you're going to do well. Listen to your Captain. Follow your gut. Now get out there." Gotze joined the team who were already close to the sideline. Coach Junger said to the group, "Listen up everyone! Look at who came to see you play!"

Coach Junger pointed to the small group of Tierheim supporters who were still loudly whooping and swinging red and yellow fabric. "They came all the way here to watch your game. They will support you, no matter what, and defend this team to whoever dares to badmouth you. We are down by two but let me tell you something. Leading by two is the worst lead to have. They are also down to nine players. Do what I said at the beginning of the game and we will walk out of here with our heads held high. The question is- are you all ready to take what's yours?"

"YES, COACH!"

The whistle blew and the team moved as a group to the middle of their pitch. Sigmund formed the huddle with every player, including Bovva. "We do this by the book. We haven't learned many plays so we're going to need all of us to step up and be counted. Bovva!"

"Yes, boss?"

"Keep hurting them."

"Yes, boss!"

"Karl?"

"Whatcha got for me?"

"Your woman is Silena Donner. I don't care what is going on this field but you take her out of the game in any way you see fit- as long as it's legal."

"Chaos couldn't stop me."

The Captain continued, "The rest of us will be a team. Cage up, create open lanes, and everything else will fall in place. Do you get me?"

"YES, CAPTAIN!"

"On three. One, two, three!"

"Tigers!"

"Go team!"

"For coach!"

"Tierheim!"

They trotted to their positions. "We should really work on that," said Oskar to Sigmund.

Sigmund chuckled, "We'll have time."

Bovva set up against two Linemen while the Tigers' Blitzers set up on the wings. Gotze and Nuffstian posted on either side of Bovva. Mila and Lukas sat in the backfield with Dennis and Felix. Felix said, "If any of us gets the ball, we hand off to Lukas."

"Got it," they said. The ball was booted into the waiting hands of Lukas. "Well, that was easy enough," said Felix.

Bovva made a mess of the front line. Two Hurters' Linemen went down before the cage was set up around Lukas. Oskar picked off another Blitzer trying to make his way around the wide lane. Sigmund smashed into two other Blitzers.

Karl looked like he was stalking and hunting. Having only nine players on the pitch, the Hurters didn't have enough players to mark him. As the cage moved up, he saw Silena Donner looking for her moment to help in breaking the cage. That opportunity occured when Dennis was hit hard by one of the Linemen.

Lukas panicked and took his chance to sprint towards the end zone. Silena gave chase. Karl wasn't far behind and he was fast. However, Silena was very fast. Lukas, though, was faster. Unfortunately, speed wouldn't help Lukas get away from the angle of one of their Blitzers and was tackled with a dipping shoulder. He kept onto the ball, though, and Silena ran up to put a boot to him. Lukas rolled just as the foot came down. Silena went to throw her body on Lukas but Karl had finally caught up. When he did, he picked Silena up and body slammed her to the ground. Then he did it again.

Mila was able to take care of the Blitzer who had originally hit Lukas, so he jumped up to run. He looked over to see two Linemen bearing down on him. A quick glance behind saw Felix coming to help and Dennis farther back. "Dennis!" Lukas yelled, dumping the ball towards the Thrower.

Dennis caught the ball as Lukas and Felix blocked the two Linemen who briefly lost their momentum when they saw the ball being dumped. Dennis raced towards the end zone and didn't bother looking behind him. He felt the moment he did, the tentacles of Nuffle would trip him up. The young Thrower crossed the end zone line and spiked the ball. Breathing hard, he saw the crowd cheering and booing. The whistle blew and the announcer spoke his name across the stadium for scoring for the Tierheim Tigers. Then Dennis felt the tackle hit him hard from behind. The ground came quick and blackness overtook him.

"That's a late hit from 'Zany' Zapain! I don't think Dennis Volker is going to get up easy from that one. And Head Ref Kindersnap is having words with Zapain right now. Unfortunately for the Tigers, late hits are not illegal and so Zapain will stay on the field."

Sebastian winced when he saw the hit and said a prayer to Nuffle for Dennis to be okay. The stretcher bearers quickly came and placed him on the board. Then they trotted to Leon who scowled at the opposing team. The whistle blew again and Sebastian saw Katrin re-enter the pitch in place of Dennis.

"A mixed blessing," said Mr. Luft. "Down by one and also down by a Thrower. That was quite a run, though."

Mr. Gregg nodded. "Having Lukas Lahm dump-off was a very good tactic."

Sebastian hoped the team could hold together for another touchdown.

Chapter 24

"When the whistle blows, like music to my ears, everyone knows, I have no more fears. Blood Bowl rules, for all of us fools, and we have the scars that shows."

-Ripper Bolgrot, Pitches of Grass: Collected Poems of Thoughts of a Troll

The teams reset for the next drive. The whistle sounded and Oskar kicked it downfield into the arms of a shaky Selena. Sigmund faced off against 'Zany" Zapain again but neither Blitzer was able to do much except push each other. They were about the same size and Sigmund needed help to get the other Blitzer down. That help came in the form of Katrin who simply gave a front-kick in Zapain's side. The man went down and the two Tigers Blitzers ran after Silena Donner who seemed to have lost a step of speed..

Karl was hunting again but couldn't find a hit he really wanted. Mila screeched around him, ducked under the first player in the Hurters' cage, and side-stepped Silenas' stiff-arm. Mila reached out and stripped the ball from her hands. Silena threw an elbow which knocked her in the mouth causing blood to gush from her lips. Finding the dropped ball, Silena reached to grab it but soon found a man staring at her and foaming at the mouth. Karl connected with Silena using his full shoulder. The Hurters' Catcher was pushed out-of-bounds into the stands. The only part of the stands where there were Tierheim fans.

Karl couldn't congratulate himself too much as he was immediately hit in the side, pushing him out of bounds but again, into the only section containing Tierheim fans. Some of them were still pummelling Silena while others started helping get Karl back on his feet and back in the game. He hurdled the partition and entered the pitch, ready to tackle the next player.

To save their beloved Catcher, a bunch of Heideckers started a brawl with the Tierheimers. The Tigers' fans found some allies in various others in the crowd who wore the colors of the Reikland Reavers, the Dwarf Giants, and the Avelorn Avengers. Soon, the melee spread from one small section to almost the entire side of the stadium.

The ball was now in the hands of 'Zany' Zapain who had gotten up immediately after being knocked down by Katrin. He doubled back deeper into the backfield, looking for an opening for a pass. The problem was that they were down by one more player. Sigmund and Katrin bore down on him and so he threw a Hail Mary Pass down the field into the Tigers' half. Another of the Catchers of the Hurters sprinted towards the ball but was soon taken down by Mila. Felix picked it up and took several steps. He aimed and chucked it downfield towards Gotze, who had just helped Bovva block a Lineman. The ball was tipped by another Hurters Lineman causing the deflected ball to bounce off of Bovva's head, which in turn, caused the Big Guy to look around in confusion.

By a possible. odd divine direction by Nuffle, the ball bounced into Gotze's hands. "Run, Gotze! We've got you," yelled Oskar.

Gotze ran with everything he had. Bovva smashed the first blocker. Oskar pushed off the next one. 'Zany' Zapain got tied up again with Sigmund while Katrin was left to run beside Gotze for protection. He crossed the touchdown line and was instantly surprised by the sheer volume of noise. The announcer barely broke through with his name and the score. He quickly looked around to see if there would be another late hit, instead finding Katrin picking him up and hugging him.

"Holy Chaos," said Mr. Luft.

"That about sums it up," said Mr. Gregg.

Sebastian smiled. He looked across the pitch towards the scoreboard. Three to three. Two minutes and change remaining. The brawl at the section of the Tierheim fans and a myriad of others dissipated once Silena Donner was taken away on a stretcher. Unless the fans immediately left to get back home, he was sure the ruckus would continue in various taverns around Heideck.

"This is pretty unbelievable fans, this is one Chaos of a game on our hands," said Doundafew from the center room. "The Heideck Hurters have thrown away a two point lead, but the game is not over yet, and the Hurters look prepared to draw blood. Well, you can't spell Blood Bowl without 'blood' is what I'm told."

Sebastian looked at the Hurters side. They were living up to their name, but not in the way they wanted, in his opinion. Downedafew might have misled some of the listeners at home. They looked as stunned and dismayed as their fans not to mention the Lords in their section of the press box.

Both teams began to set up before the whistle blew. Sebastian was able to mitigate some damage caused by the Hurters' trick with the magical item, but he knew there was at least one other surprise- he just couldn't spot it. Hopefully, it wouldn't be a game changer. He finished off his wine and leaned forward, hoping he had found the right person for the job- someone to make sure what he felt was going to happen- wouldn't.

Oskar booted the ball towards the Huerters' endzone. The Tigers knew they had to blitz, and the Hurters knew the same. With Lukas running full speed towards the ball, he could get to the receiver a few seconds before it would be caught, so it was up to Oskar to kick it as high as he could, letting the ball float more to buy precious seconds. The Hurters weren't stupid, however, and had placed several players closer to their Thrower to provide protection against the blitz.

Fortunately for the Thrower, Lukas was caught by a Lineman and they both barrel rolled to the ground. Mila spotted their other Catcher run through an opening created by 'Zany' Zapain who simply bear-hugged Sigmund. She looked for an imminent pass. The Thrower dodged past Karl who had overcommitted on his tackle, screaming curses as he dove past.

Katrin slammed into the newly formed cage with Nuffstian. The Hurters' Thrower didn't have trouble peeling back towards the way he came. He threw a short pass to one of the Blitzers who easily caught it and tucked it in for a rush towards the end zone. The Blitzer dodged around Bovva, which wasn't too difficult since it seemed the Big Guy didn't know what to do with the unconscious Lineman in his hand.

This left Oskar and Mila to deal with the backfield. Mila waited patiently for the Catcher to come to her and she decided to cover him in a zone defense. She wasn't as physically fast as the Catcher so she knew she would have to read the play and react faster than he could. Before Oskar threw the block on the Blitzer, she watched the man's head turn towards the Catcher. She had to appear as if she wasn't prepared for the throw so that he actually would follow through with the pass. Before the two Blitzers connected, the pass hurtled towards the Catcher. Mila read the trajectory. It wasn't a very good pass, thanks to the pressure from Oskar, so it wasn't leading the Catcher run. This forced the player to slow his speed which allowed Mila to drop kick him in the side as the ball came down.

They both landed hard on the ground but Mila rolled and sprung up to see the ball rolling towards her. She snagged it, and seeing that the entire Hurters' team was coming for her with no protection, she knew she couldn't run the ball. So she punted it. As hard as she could. The ball headed downfield towards the Hurters' end zone.

The ball barely crossed midfield, but did bounce off Bovva's head. This seemed to focus him into realizing he needed to get rid of the Lineman he still held. So, he did what Ogres did. He simply swung the man as a cudgel and in doing so, smashed the player into another Hurters Lineman who lurched for the now bouncing ball.

Nufftsian picked the ball and threw a short pass to Wotan, who ran a few steps and handed it to Felix. Felix bolted towards the end zone. He was being chased by 'Zany' Zapain now and the Blitzer was chasing him down, on an oblique run. There was no way he was going to outrun the Zapain but he ran as hard as he could. Zapain was bearing down on him fast.

As he was running, Felix felt the hairs on his arms raise. He felt a crackle of energy and prayed to Nuffle to let him get past what was about to happen. No matter what, he would run through whatever tragedy would lay upon him first. The crackle of energy appeared in the form of a lightning bolt, screeching from the sky. Felix braced himself for the electricity to kill him but it didn't. In fact, the bolt slammed into the ground between himself and Zapain, blinding the Blitzer enough and disorienting him to run past Felix and into the partition, vaulting himself into the fans.

Felix, however, was not immune to the blast. The lightning bolt also blinded him, and he tripped and rolled. He jumped up immediately, but his eyesight was still poor. So he closed his eyes and ran. He kept running until he ran through the end zone and into the Camra crew that was covering the game.

"Felix Muller scores for the Tigers!" yelled Downedafew. It's four to three, the Tigers are in the lead!"

The team raced up to Felix, or more specifically, Wotan, Nuffstian and Sigmund raced to him. They slapped his helmet and back as they peeled him from the puzzle which was the player's legs and the tangled mess of the Camra crew.

Sebastian leapt to his feet. So did the NAF representatives. From the center room of the pressbox, he heard Doundafew say, "I can't believe it Hurters' fans, a lightning bolt came straight for Felix Muller as he was running and it just turned in mid-air and missed him! What in Chaos is going on here?"

Sebastina watched as Coach Haverstein threw his hat to the ground and stomped on it, then took a large water bucket and dumped it over. Coach Junger was shaking hands with the team on the sideline, including Leon. Michael and Tomas were dancing around with each other in a circle.

The last play before the final whistle was completely uneventful since there was only time for the ball to be kicked. The Hurters' offense was too deflated to do any last ditch maneuvers.

Sebastian, Mr. Luft, and Mr. Gregg, walked to the center room. Phillard Doundafew was still speaking incredulously to his listeners when Lord Schuler, Lord Volker, and their flunkies met them. All of them looked as if shank had been mixed in with their wine.

Lord Volker spoke first. "Very good game, my lord."

Sebastian said, "You as well," and extended his hand. Lord Volker looked at it as if it was a magician's hand, keeping a secret just in the sleeve.

Lord Schuler took it. "Looks like Nuffle's luck was on your side, Lord Ginter."

Sebastian nodded. "Well, as the saying goes- 'I'd rather be lucky than good."

"We'll have to meet again, Lord Ginter. Maybe at your pitch?"

"Or maybe here again if ours isn't ready. I must say I have thoroughly enjoyed your hospitality and you have such a beautiful stadium. The staff, as well- top notch, my Lords."

"Is there anything else you will need before you leave, sir?" asked Lord Schuler, still unsmiling.

"About the wager, my Lord. Where exactly would I collect it?"

Chapter 25

"Traveling back home after a loss in an Away game gives you time to reflect: what you could have done differently, what you could have done better, and so on. After a win, you also reflect:how much beer can I drink tonight, how many stories I can embellish, and so on."

-Zara the Slayer, Blitzer for the Black Mountain Blades

Everyone knew they would be leaving straight after the game, so plans were in place to have the wagons ready once the game ended. No one was especially fond of staying in Heideck after embarrassing their Blood Bowl team. One wagon carried Leon, Michael, Tomas, including the injured players of Dennis, Mannfred, and Joachim. The rest of the wagons carried the other players and equipment. Some Tigers were still milling about, chatting with their fans, most of whom would be travelling back with the team in their own modes of transportation.

"One Chaos of a game," said Coach Junger. "One Chaos of a game."

"Most assuredly," said Sebastian.

"Tell me," said Coach Junger. "How did you know about the magical glove?"

"I have always made it a part of my mission in business to be polite and respectful to members of all walks of life. After all, everyone is part of a cog in a wheel. In this case, waiters and servers. It wasn't hard to find out where the staff of the stadium hang out, so I merely made a visit while waiting for the team to show up and I may have bought a few rounds, listened to their tales, and so forth. Simple, really."

"I have to admit, you are an unusual nobleman, sir. No offense."

"None taken."

"The lightning bolt. Your doing?"

"Well, I am no wizard, but I do have a friend who dabbles. There he is now, in fact. You remember Wei, our Cathayan friend?"

"Ha! Wei here is not fond of others who sell their illegal magical services. I had a feeling they were going to use an illegal wizard. And since I knew Wei had dabbled in the magical arts, I needed him as insurance to prevent any illegal activity which would have been detrimental to the team. Which is why he merely pushed the illegal bolt between Zapain and Felix."

Wei reached his hand out. Coach Junger accepted it. "What if there hadn't been an illegal wizard? Would you have done something to help our team?"

Wei shrugged.

"Well said, Wei," said Coach Junger. "I owe you one, for sure."

"Of course," the Cathayan said. "If you could repay your debt quickly, once your team has their celebration dinner at my restaurant?"

"Consider it done, my friend," said Coach Junger. "As long as it isn't too expensive. We are on a budget."

"I'll take care of it," said Sebastian. "I have recently come into new money, and what better way to spend it than on the team that truly had a baptism by fire."

"I'll say," said Coach Junger. "Wei, are you riding with us?"

"No Coach, I am not. I am going to see the sights in Heideck. This is the farthest West I have travelled in the Empire and would like to compare the foods and people."

"Good luck with that," said Coach Junger. "And Wei?"

"Yes, Coach?"

"Thanks."

Wei bowed his head, moved past the wagons, and walked towards the city away from the stadium.

"I'm glad you called that guy," said Coach Junger.

"Thank you, my good man."

"Lord Ginter," said Coach Junger.

"Yes?"

"Thanks for getting us out here to this point. For getting me out here to this point. You started all of this. Tierheim now has a team and we stuck it to those shanking Heideckers. I think our town really has a shot."

"Please, Coach, I'd like to think I was a mere catalyst for Tierheim to recognize its potential. A spark if you will."

"If it's one thing I can say, sir, you aren't a 'mere' anything."

They shook hands and both clapped each other on the shoulders. Coach Junger turned and yelled, "Let's go, we're wasting daylight and it's going to be a bumpy ride home! Lukas!"

"Yes , sir," yelled the Catcher pulling away from kissing one of the Hurters cheerleaders.

"In the wagon, you villainous rake or we leave your sorry arse to Heideck!"

Lukas looked to the wagons and then back at the woman. He then reluctantly pulled away from her and jumped into the wagon. He was met with a slap on the back from Felix.

"Lord Ginter, I assume you are riding on your own?" asked Coach Junger.

"I am. I need to ride out to Streissen and meet up with Otto. He's been assessing several teams around there, including the Rebels. That, and we need to set up more matches for us to play. After that, we'll go to Averheim to do the same. I've sent word to the Grenzstadt Brewers and Agbeiten Bears. Maybe we can start up some new rivalries."

"That will be interesting to see who we get to play next, although the travelling will be tough."

"Then pray to Nuffle that Grenzstadt will agree to play us on our field. Or that Frank gets nine more Ogres."

The two men shook hands and Sebastian parted ways. The players waved him their goodbyes and soon he was drowned in the crowds of Heideck. Coach Junger checked several of the straps on one of the wagons and peered into the one with Leon and the boys. "Leon," he said. "Everyone snug back there?"

Leon shrugged.

"Are our players going to be okay?"

Leon shrugged.

Michael said, "Coach, can I be the team's apothecary with Leon?"

"I don't see why not. Provided you decide not to be an idiot and ditch any schooling you can get."

Tomas said, "Can I be a wizard?"

"Maybe. I hear there's someone in Tierheim you could learn a thing or two from."

"Really?"

"We'll see. You two behave back there and make sure you take care of our people."

"Yes, Coach!"

"Coach," said Karl, leaning over the wagon side.

"What?"

"Before we go, the team wanted to give you something."

"What's that?"

Sigmund and Katrin stood up, dumping a barrel of Bloodweiser onto Coach Junger's head. Everyone laughed and the coach stood there with his head down. "What was that?" he asked, seething.

The laughter stopped abruptly and Sigmund said, "Bloodweiser, coach."

"Then that's a waste of bad beer," said Coach Junger. He raised his head with a huge smile. The laughter picked up again. Someone threw him a towel and he began wiping his face and hair.

Coach Junger moved up to the front wagon and climbed up in the back, his clothes sloshing from the recent dunking. "Are you ready, Coach Junger?" asked the driver, chuckling.

"Well, Hans, I think we are."

"Coach, when are the next tryouts?" asked the crossbowman.

"Next year, Jans, provided Tierheim is still its own town, or maybe sooner if I haven't strangled my own team. What position are you thinking of?"

"To be honest," said Jans, also chuckling, "I'd just be happy in making the team."