“Welcome back sports fans to yet another exciting game!”

“That’s right Bob, today we’re in sunny Lustria presiding over a friendly match between the local Gwakamoli Crater Gators and their rivals from across the sea the Galadrieth Gladiators… or at least I’m told it’s sunny. I haven’t been able to look at the sun for centuries now.”

“Aye Jim, it’s plenty hot today and not just the weather I can’t wait for some mid-game grub, but as we all know when it comes to Blood Bowl, there are no friendly games!”

“Well said and welcome everyone who’s listening. I’m your ghoulish host Jim Johnson and with me is my co-host, the never-satisfied Bob Bifford and we’re all expecting a good game today.”

“Well I sure ain’t. Can’t stand these elf teams and their pomped attitudes. Obeying the rules? Bah! Let’s hope them Krocs give ‘em a real pounding!”

“I think you meant to say pompous, Bob.”

“As if elves are worth good spelling!”

“Today we’re coming to you from the Gawkmol Crater where the local reptiles have built a new stadium from promethean shells and bones transported up the rivers from the Cactus Coast… it’s really impressive I must say.”

“That’s right Jim. I’ve always liked these Krocs, they sure know how to respect good sports-dwelling.”

“Indeed Bob, well now we’re just waiting for the elves to arrive. Word has it they’re sailing up the river and… oh, oh wait, here come their ships now! For those weary listeners out there, I’m seeing 4 ships come into port and … oh there he is! Ladies and gentlemen, flesh-things and monsters I can see none other than Lucien Swift, their Star Blitzer, on the bow of the first ship. Wait he’s doing something, he’s-“

*BANG*

“Oh he set off a firework! Jolly good stuff don’t you think Bob?”

“Aye Jim, I’ve always said those elves knew how to put on a good show. They’re really not all that bad.”

“Well with 13 touchdowns to his name last season, I would expect good quality from him.”

“Sure sure Jim, my money’s still on them Gators though. I don’t see any tall-helm getting past Krocbloq’s big arms….”

________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________

As Jim and Bob continued their build-up for the game as the high elven ships began to disembark onto the land, Teclis and Loremaster Ba’Bu’Shar stood atop a hill outside the stadium, surrounded by dense foliage and watching over the game’s preparations.

“I still think this is a mistake. I wouldn’t wager my own safety over Blood Bowl let alone international relations.” Ba’Bu’Shar commented.

“What else was I supposed to do? It’s not like the Slann offered any other routes to peace.” Teclis suggested. “Did you ask Eltharion if he will join us in the viewing box later?”

“The Warden of Yvresse intends to watch the game from the stands alongside his compatriots.”

“Odd.” Teclis remarked. “That man has been behaving so strangely lately. He’s normally such a grim fellow yet I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so happy around them. It’s as if he hadn’t seen his friends in years.”

“Better to think about the cost of this game than to fret over another man’s happiness, aye sir?”

“Quite right too. This needs to work, you know as well as I that we’re stretched far too thin to fight both the Skaventide and the Children of the Old Ones at once.”

“And it will sir. You just need to believe in yourself, High Loremaster.”

“Would that it were so simple, Loremaster. I just need to remain…. Oh is that? No it can’t be.”

“The Cheerleaders, sir?” Ba’Bu’Shar asked as Teclis pointed to the second vessel transporting the Elven sportspeople as the squad’s Cheer contingent disembarked.

“Not the cheerleaders themselves, their coach there… yes, there. Silver-something…. Silver… ah Galadril Silverwater that’s it! She courted with my brother back at the academy, they got up to some frankly heretical things under our aunt Malene’s nose back in those days. Still, that was a long time ago now…” Teclis lamented.

“Was there ever anyone for you in those days, Sir?”

“Me? No, no between all the potions I was taking to keep myself breathing and mastering the secrets of the arcane, romance tended to elude me. I had the odd fancy of course, but nothing that lasted. And besides even it had been, as if my father would let me waste the best decades of my life on such frivolous things… all those things came much later to me than they did to my brother I’m afraid.”

“I regret to hear that, sir.”

“What about you Ba’Bu’Shar? Has anyone ever held the key to your heart?”

The Loremaster smirked for a moment before responding. “Suffice it to say that where I come from, you never needed to travel more than a realm or two for that sort of that thing, Sir.”

“Very well, keep your secrets. Well Loremaster, I shall go welcome the players to their game. Please ensure all safety checks have taken place in time for the kick-off.” Teclis concluded.

“Sir, yes, sir!” Ba’Bu’Shar cried as he headed into the stadium.

Teclis made his way down the hill, past a layer of jungle or two and then finally, wandered into the port. Upon entry, all the Gladiators and their Cheering counterparts saluted to the legendary High Loremaster in respect before heading into the stadium. Teclis looked on as the sportsmen and sportswomen headed into the game.

“Should I be saluting too…or perhaps practicing my curtsy?” Teclis heard a woman’s voice say behind him. The High Loremaster turned to see a Swordmaster of Hoeth who’d come as part of the sportsteam’s entourage. He was about to tell her off for her insolence when she suddenly removed her helmet.

Teclis’ mouth hung agape as long blonde locks cascaded down her neck and her face came into view – defined cheekbones, a stud through one ear, a set of freckles on her cheeks, lips that naturally pursed ever so slightly between breaths and the clearest of blue eyes. She looked so familiar, yet slightly different, perhaps something around how her shoulders set in her armour. Either way, he knew her. “Izaraa?”

“Hello Teclis, hasn’t it been a while?”

“My goodness it is you! How long has it been? Two, maybe three hundred years?” Teclis enthused.

“Something like that.”

“And look at you now. A fully-fledged swordmaster like you always said you would be. Loremaster Morelian did see such promise in you even when we were still both in training.”

“Well you can talk… HIGH LOREMASTER. I never saw that one coming.” Izaraa emphasised as Teclis chuckled for a moment.

“And being out here though? You always said you longed for adventure. I never believed it of course. Many budding Loremasters profess interests in the outer world in their youth yet usually settle down long before that becomes an option. What’s it been like?” Izaraa asked.

“Oh, there’s been some of it all. Frights, thrills and everything between. If I’d known you were still active, I would have tried to entice you into my expedition in the first place. Oh, the things I’ve seen, we have so much to catch up on but for now, come join me and the Loremasters in the Slann’s box. We could watch the game together from there if you like.”

“That does sound fun but alas, duty calls.” Izaraa sighed. “I’ve already been assigned to guarding the stands. Another time perhaps.” Izaraa concluded with a small salute.

“Another time.” ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“And so here we go, Bob with the kick off.”

“That’s right Jim. LET’S PLAY BLOOD BOWL!”

Teclis, the Loremasters, the Slann lord Huinitenuchli and his accompanying skink heralds sat above the stands on their viewing platform as they watched the game get underway.

The elves made a quick dash for the ball, making the pickup and charging down the pitch only to be intercepted by the saurian defenders as Krocbloq took the ball and sent it forward to the saurus Kroxcihiq who slung the ball under its arm, making a push forward as its fellow saurus blockers charged forward alongside it. The elves attempted to retaliate, sending their linesmen forward while their kickers fell close behind, and their catchers stayed well back.
The linesmen made their strike, attempting to leverage the ball out of the saurus’ hands as it tightened its grip. Then, just as they were about to make their play, the linesmen were caught off guard as a chameleon skink by the name of Puantehex ran up the saurus’ back, took the ball and dove straight over the linesmen’s heads. The elf catchers stood ready to intercept the chameleon skink which was coming up through the centre of the field while two skink runners Khabudz and Kri-qit stormed up the wings of the pitch. The elven catchers advanced, hoping to intercept this ball once and for all but alas, the chameleon skink crossed the ball to the right and….

“Touchdown! That’s an early touchdown by Skink runner Kri-qit. What do you think of it Bob?” Jim Johnson announced from the stands as the Lizardmen in the crowd roared in celebratory cheer. However, as he looked over to his co-host for match analysis he instead found the ogre munching down on a culchan’s leg. The vampire sighed and returned his gaze to the field where the skink was running laps around the field, celebrating before its supporters as the elven team looked on dismayed and the elven fans boo-ed from the stands.

Play soon resumed and went ahead with an even pace between the two teams for some time. The elves would make their play, the Lizardmen would make theirs but either way no team could find the way through. At half time, the teams left the field. Gwakamoli Crater Gators – 1, Galadrieth Gladiators – 0.

After 15 minutes play resumed as the two teams took to the pitch. However, something was different as this time the elven squad came out swinging. Maybe it was whatever their coach had to say, maybe it was a new chant developed by their cheerleaders or perhaps Nuffle had simply decided to show them his favour but either way, their time to shine had come. The linesmen charged up the pitch, wind gushing through their slicked hairdos as they passed the ball from one to the other, deftly avoiding the skinks’ grubby hands and easily outmanoeuvring the saurus blockers as their star blitzer, the Silver Bullet himself, Lucien Swift made a run for it as Krocbloq caught him in its sights.

The Saurus ran forward, hoping to block the blitzer in his tracks but Lucien lunged beneath the defender’s arm as it swiped, effortlessly weaving his way past. The linesman with the ball tossed it overhead, Lucien caught it and slammed it into the ground.

“Touchdown for the elves!” The game had been equalised. The cheerleaders danced in joy, whipping up great celebratory fervours from the otherwise stoic elves in the crowd as Eltharion and his friends each raised their fists and yelled for glory. Even Teclis, despite his nerves betrayed a smirk from within the Slann’s viewing box.Only a handful of minutes to go after some play and with the way the elves had reinvigorated themselves in this second half of the game, it seemed likely that if there were any more points scored this game, it would be them doing it.

Their aesthetic passing wove circles around the Lizardmen’s defence, as even their offensive players such as their skink runners and chameleon skinks were called back to keep the elves at bay but no matter how many players they brough back, the ball somehow always ended up back in the elven hands as their second blitzer caught the ball and made his attack. The Blitzer ran forward toward the line, nearly there to score with only the blocker K’Boq K’Boq still between him and scoring but the saurus was having none of it barrelled forward, left into the air and proceeded to sit on him. The rest of the elven team approached in disgust and their cheer squad shouted insults as everyone heard the cracking of bones beneath the saurus’ scaled exterior. With nothing left to do, everyone looked toward the referee to make his decision. Surely this would warrant a penalty the elven fans thought but as a Dwarfish referee came bounding onto the pitch, they knew anything could happen.

….

◙ Love React: The crowd waited in bated breath as the Dwarf made his decision. Either he would blow his whistle to signal continuing play or he would throw a yellow cloth on the ground which would mark a set piece for the elves, a penalty which without a doubt would be taken by Lucien Swift. After a moment’s thought, the Dwarf made his decision and surprisingly, he agreed with the elven verdict of the situation. The cloth went down, Lucien took his kick and scored the winning point.When the game ended Teclis let out a long sigh of relief. Not only had his side won the game but more importantly, it had all gone ahead without significant violence breaking out. After all, one injured blitzer had to be worth peace being struck between two mighty nations.

….

◙ Laugh React: After barely a moment of consideration, the biased Dwarf referee blew his whistle, signalling the continuing of play. The elven fans groaned in disgust from the stands while Teclis merely thanked his luck that violence didn’t break out then and there. Play resumed and very soon the Galadrieth Gladiators found themselves losing steam. Just as the elven military were known for losing their prowess as they lost their numbers, the same could be said for their sports teams in this instance as the Gladiators failed to adjust their synergies for the lack of their second blitzer. Before they knew what was happening, the Lizardmen had regained their stride and so, just as the game reached its final minute of play defeat became assured as skink runner Uaxconqua scored the team’s second and final touchdown. The game was over. The Elves had lost but at least peace would now reign.

….

◙ Angry React: The Dwarf referee approached the injured Blitzer and just as soon as he saw him, the Dwarf proceeded to immediately blow his whistle to resume play. The elven supporters boo-ed and groaned in disgust as once again a defeat had been handed to them by their stunted cousins yet this turned for the worst when a drunken Eltharion rose from his seat, backed by his equally intoxicated allies.

“Oi ref! Wha’ ya doin’? *Hiccup* Tha’s a clear penalty! Let the Gladiators scor som ******* goals will ya?” Eltharion shouted as a nearby Temple Guard approached him, motioning for him to return to his seat.

“Wha? You want me ta sit? D’ya know who I *hic* am? I’m tha man who killed yer dino-ridin’ boss yea big frog. Now get off me will yea?!” Eltharion yelled before belching in the guard’s face. The guard put its macuahuitl against the elf’s shoulder, reminding him to sit down only for the worst to happen instead as the flushed Warden of Yvresse turned round and delivered a punch to the guard’s face.

Teclis looked on in horror as Eltharion and the Temple Guard got into a fight, followed soon by his drunken friends doing the same as more Lizards approached. Very soon the violence began to spread with brawls opening up all over the stadium. Teclis bowed his head in shame as a disgruntled Slann left the arena having seen all it needed to. Months of diplomacy and planning had gone down the drain and all because of his a sloppy injury and his friend’s drinking habit. Lord Huinitenucli couldn’t trust the elves, not after what happened today. The war may not immediately break out as it did before, but there definitely wouldn’t be cooperation between the two cultures any time soon and conflict may arise once again in the future once the Skaven threat has been dealt with should the elves remain in Lustria.

….

(Prelude to Wow & Sad React)

Following the tackle, the referee decided to let the elves have their penalty but alas, they missed and the game continued as before with minimal outbursts from either side’s supporters.

The High Elves took the ball and proceeded to play advantage, passing it up the pitch until it ended up in the hands of their legendary Lucien Swift. With this potentially being his last chance to score, Lucien rushed forward; leapfrogging over the skink runner Adohi-Oatl, sliding between the legs of the saurus blocker Hualla Bellu and even making it past the might Gryndar.

Lucien finally passed the final line of blockers, the touchline came into view and it looked as if Elven victory was at hand. He crossed the line and dove down to smash the ball into its final scoring position. However, just as he was about to make contact with the surface, a long tail suddenly stretched past his nose and wrapped around the ball, yanking it off him as he fell onto the ground disappointed.

The tail carried the ball back a few paces into the trusty hands of chameleon skink Teptoc who aimed to turn the tide of the game once and for all. As skinks Kri-qit and Adohi-Oatl ran ahead in hopes of a long throw and subsequent wide-reception from their chameleon teammate, Teptoc hoisted his arm high and prepared to make the throw that could win his team the game.

“Tick…tick…tick…tick…”

Teptoc found itself distracted as they held the ball up to their ear. Something was wrong, the chameleon could hear some form of machinery hidden within ticking away.

“Tick…tick…tick… KABOOM!”

The pitch erupted as the ball detonated in the chameleon skink’s hands, letting out vast blasts of warp-lightning in what had evidently been a well-concealed warp bomb. The lightning tore up through the pitch, setting many of the players of both teams alight whereas many of them simply died in the initial explosion. The whole stadium shook as a rumbling drone came from below the ground from all sides until finally, multiple burrows appeared coming out of the pitch. Whole packs of giant rats and wolf rats teamed forth and made their ways into the stands to attack the crowds, followed shortly by several weapons teams of poison wind globadiers who chucked their globes into the stands, coating the whole venue in thick, poisonous mists.

Over in the managers’ box Teclis and the Slann lord Huinitenuchli couldn’t believe what they were seeing. After months of mostly inaction from the ratmen apart from a few minor raids on trading routes, this whole stadium had suddenly descended into utter anarchy. Swordmasters and Temple Guards emerged from their posts to fight the oncoming tide of Moulder packs and Clanrats but even with their great experience and skill, the harsh poisoned fog significantly decreased their visibility and dexterity.

Despite early shock over the ambush, the spellcasters soon entered the fray. Teclis stood to attention and cast a great fireball over the stadium, hoping to clean some of the thick smog that was leaving everyone’s senses impaired whereas Huinitenuchli cast a banishment spell straight into one of the Skaven tunnels at the centre of what used to be the pitch, launching that spell deep underground in an effort to cleanse the tunnels of further invaders.
As the mists began to part and the Skaven reinforcements were cut off, Eltharion, his friends, Izaraa and all the other warriors of both races in the crowd were beginning to gain the upper hand over the Skaven threat once and for all. The skies were clearing, the packs were dying.

“BANG!”

A piercing shot tore through the air and struck Huinitenuchli’s skink interpreter right between the eyes, sending it off to an early demise. The Slann groaned in shock, letting out a shockwave that knocked over several pillars and sent many skaven fleeing in terror while Teclis desperately scanned the ramparts for any sign of the sniper.
Unfortunately, Eltharion already knew exactly who the assailant was. That jezzail made a very distinct sound when it last fired, a specific howl that most jezzail rifles traded out several models for subtlety purposes. But this rat wanted to be heard, it wanted you to know when it was coming for you and there was only one time the Warden of Yvresse had ever heard it before. Somewhere in these crowds was Natty Buboe, Clan Mors’ finest sharpshooter and one of the rats responsible for General Ferghal’s demise at the Battle of the Blood Swamps. Eltharion did his best to scan the upper levels of the arena’s architecture, hoping to spot the jezzail’s hiding spot but couldn’t find him, although being rather tipsy didn’t help in this respect. Thus everyone continued to fight, dealing with the skaven underlings who were already at their throats while they waited for a sign of Buboe’s presence until finally, just as Izaraa was finishing off a nearby stormvermin with her greatsword, she spotted something ever so faint from a small protrusion from the rafters on the opposing side of the arena. As she concentrated her eyes on it, she caught the slight glint of metal in the sunlight as the barrel of Buboe’s rifle came out from a small hole drilled in the protrusion. Izaraa tracked the angle of the sniper’s jezail… it was aiming straight for Eltharion!

As Izaraa shoved the stormvermin aside and lept toward Eltharion, Teclis had his own problems up on the viewing platform. “Ba’bu’shar, I need you to send a detachment into those burrows. Make sure nothing else gets in here…. Ba’bu’shar?” Teclis asked as he looked around his immediate surroundings, his ally was nowhere to be seen. “Ba’Bu’Shar? Ba’Bu’Shar where are you?” A bright light suddenly shone in the High Loremaster’s eyes as he fell to the ground. Over on the other side of the arena Natty Buboe opened fire on the Warden of Yvresse.

….

◙ Sad React: The light faded and Eltharion fell backwards. Teclis heard a cry of shock and leapt into action, leaving the viewing platform where Ba’Bu’Shar stayed with the Slann and his allies while Teclis took to the supporters stands. The High Loremaster strode across the seats, blasting nearby stormvermin away with fire bolts from his hands as he approached the cry. When he got there, Teclis found the Warden of Yvresse laying on his back, coughing up blood with a hole in his throat, a hole made by a warpstone bullet that had nestled there. Izaraa was next to Eltharion, struggling to hold back tears. She’d been so close to blocking that bullet. She’s done similar acts before, all swordsmasters train for this very event but sadly, luck hadn’t looked upon her favourably this day.

Despite being beside herself with emotion Teclis tried to catch her attention, asking if she saw the gunman. She pointed to the Jezzail’s hiding spot and so, Teclis loudly and angrily proclaimed “Die now, vile rodent!” before casting down a bolt of lightning from the heavens which blew the rat up before it could escape. However, even then the loss hardly seemed the same. The Vermintide were endless and even the death of one as skilled as Natty Buboe could be replaced in time. The life of an Elven prince on the other hand, one so legendary as the grim Warden of Tor Yvresse, would be remembered forever however.

This day served as a reminder to the Lizardmen and their Elven peers of the dangers they still faced. The Skaven hoped to weaken them today, instead their bonds would grow greater than ever as the two races finally united in opposition to their common threat. In time Eltharion would come to be buried in a ceremony alongside the memorial to Kroq Gar’s fall. Two mighty warriors slain, two mighty warriors who will never be forgotten.

….

◙ Wow React: The light faded and Teclis wiped his eyes only to find his hands stained in blood. He took in his surroundings, or tried to despite being severely disorientated. Over on the other side of the arena Izaraa had successfully leapt in the way of the Warden of Yvresse and blocked the jezzail’s bullet with her sword but even then, this small victory did little to take away from what Teclis saw once he turned around. The Sword of Teclis was lodged in the Slann lord Huinitenuchli’s stomach! Teclis gasped in shock, unable to comprehend how this had happened. A moment ago his blade had been sheathed by his belt, now there was a mighty lord of the Lizard-people dying on its tip. He took a step forward, hoping to tend to the Slann’s wounds but he was kept at bay as the Slann’s guards growled and snarled at him. “I…. I didn’t do this… I can help!” Teclis cried.Ba’Bu’Shar approached from the crowd. “My Lord, what have you done?”

In time the Skaven fled to their burrows and Natty Buboe escaped without a trace. Eltharion thanked the swordmistress for saving his neck but this didn’t change the general atmosphere of the stadium. Teclis had now assassinated not one but two Slann. There was no going back now, the war between the Lizardmen and the High Elves will surely become worse than ever.