"And here we are in the last match of the season - more of a formality at this point, given how the wood elves are sitting comfortably at the top of the league, and the lizardmen have been ousted out of the playoffs with the Chaos side snatching position after winning over the dwarfish Marauders. Isn't that right, Bob?"
"Yeah, that's right. That doesn't mean the Stormers will be fighting any less than they normally do, though - there's a lot of rage from last week's game against the human side, from what I hear!"
"And with a full compliment of muscle, they'll be looking to make some elves hurt! Now, on with the match!"
The Stormers, despite being second in the league for Team Value, still have a hefty 330k to spend. That buys a Master Chef and sends the ref's judgemental eyes on Thandrin, who comes up clean. Which is odd, considering all the hairgel - that must constitute some form of performance enhancer. Nonetheless, it's a late evening match, and the Stormers elect to receive after winning the toss, the sun long and low against the buildings surrounding the stadium.
As the ball goes skywards, a heat wave washes over the stadium, the air turning muggy and uncomfortable for both sides. Initially, the sauruses charge hard - Mejj knocks out an unlucky wardancer, and the sauruses [push forward, looking to lay some hurt - for all the good it does. First injury goes to Beechbranch, who gives a stoic punch to the gut of Rexx and snaps a couple of ribs in the process, putting him out for the rest of the season. Following up that display, the wood elves seem remarkably bolstered - and proceed to wreck the Stormers' push, knocking around the poor blue-skinned side a lot harder than they were perhaps expecting from a bunch of tree-hugging hippies.
The push stunted with a lot of skinks down, the Stormers hold their drive, failing to move forward appreciably, and settling into a more defensive play, unwilling to risk losing the ball the the agile, speedy side. The fury that bolstered the elven beatdown is suddenly surprisingly lacking, only able to actually shove the ball around. However, Howard Allan and Grolirel both head off to shut down the ball-holding Nirr, who... practically starts shitting himself at the prospect of having to face down the pair alone.
Thankfully, a freight train by the way of Jarr the Belugafaced shoves Howard to the ground, and Nirr, despite a shaky launch, hurls the ball to Tyrr, up-front for the first time in a long, long time. With a quick slip he gets out of range of Iraeffyn and runs in the ball, securing his position as a pro bloodbowl player, despite the concussion received months ago. Sadly, the heat gets the better of Takk, Ravv and Thandrin, each one put out in a sweltering daze for this kickoff while they recover.
Still, the elves take a leaf from Kobb's Khorne, setting up on (mostly) Full Frontal Brutality as Mazz fucks the kick and sends the ball into the stands. Beechbranch decides he really likes his position as a turret, however, and roots midfield. For all that it matters, as Ethilhain runs in the ball in one quick turn, barely giving the skinks time to react. Given the quick drive, Iraeffyn is the only one to go down, his pansy elven constitution giving him heatstroke from five seconds in the sun.
As the ball goes skyward for the third time, the skink side gets a quick snap, pounding forward, but not making huge use of the opportunity, with defence still lingering in the lizard's minds. Ravv fails to catch the kick, but the ball is recovered by the starstruck Tyrr and kept safe in his claws. The elves converge on the skinks, however, pushing forward hard and shutting down any easy touchdowns for the Stormers. In the ensuing melee, Jarr puts out rookie Lolowin, and the opening lets Tyrr hand off to Ravv, who, in homage to the one-turner Ethilhain, sprints for the endzone... and falls flat on his face just short.
The elves respond by laying out the majority of the opposition, as Thandrin collects and hurls the ball safely to Berethorvir to pass on. With most of the skinks down, he only lizard that can get close to the ball-carrying Berethorvir is Tyrr, and he can't take down the human-sized critter alone. Not even close. With the support of a charging Jarr, he can also do little - the resulting blits is little more than a shove for the ball-carrier. Scrambling to restore the defence, the skinks fall back, slipping away from barious elves to try and defend. However, Tyrr goes down and out, his concussion getting the better of him as a wardancer axe-kicks him in the snout and leaves him down and hurting. Sorr similarly goes down from a punch from Aethyrd, leaving the skinks hurting for players with still a half to play. With Jarr down way back, Ravv is the sole skink covering the ball-carrier, as the rest of the blue-skinned side pressures the elves - but they only need one opening to make good on a score, and they know it.
Fletcher clears Ravv out of the way easily, leaving Berethorvir to prance as he wont, as the trio of Halhuir, Glorirel and Ciryth cover the thoroughly undefended right side - and, of course, Berethorvir makes the long-bomb into the dextrous hands of Ciryth, who gets smashed to the ground by Mejj's furious charge. Despite that, Novv is unable to make good on the recovery, brought down by the diving elf known as "Please Don't Kill Me", as either Halhuir or Glorilel runs in the ball. All the elves look identical to me. I don't know.
Glorilel and Nirr are taken out by the heatwave, and combined with Garr's stubborn refusal to come around, leaves the skink side down to nine, while the elves maintain their numbers superiority with a compliment of ten. Or nine and a tree. Mazz once more kicks the ball sideways off-field, and once more Ethilhain has an easy run to the endzone. Iraeffyn and Thandrin form a guard of honout, alongside Halhuir and Ciryth, as the elf easily runs the ball in without even a worry.
Garr still remains unconscious, but the elves are bolstered by the fact their unconscious players wake up, while Mazz and Ravv pass out from the temperatures. Down to four skinks and four sauruses, and being two touhdowns down, the skink chances are more or less over at this point. The kick goes high, and Tezz scrambles to stand under it, but that's all he manages as the ball lands flat on his snout and bounces on the astrogranite. Despite the utter lack of support, they push forward anyway, even as Tezz finds himself under pressure from Aethryd. Nirr joins the ranks of the unconscious, injured and heat-struck with a punch from Halhuir. Tezz slips away in a last-hope charge to score, but fumbles the pass after stumbling, eltting it bounce into the hands of Iraeffyn, who passes to Berethorvir, and then to Glorilel, who runs it in. Easily. Depressingly easily.
Garr and Nirr are still fucking unconscious. Glorilel and Thandrin, however, both pass out from the heat. The fans, unsatisfied that the skinks are losing, take to the field and trample the unexpecting lizards, with only Novv, Takk, Jarr and Mazz even standing as the run off, and all that happens there is Mazz is thoroughly unable to touch the ball, fumbling it. Ethilhain picks up the ball as Mazz gets shoved out of the way. For all his efforts in putting up a meagre defence, Jarr gets a gouged eye fro his troubles, and once a-fucking-gain are two sauruses out for the next match.
Irzz and Ravv move to defend, but achieve jack fucking shit, Ethilhain running in the ball without issue and setting the score at 5-1.
Of course, all the elves wake up. Garr does too, although Vorr and Tezz pass out from heatstroke. As does Ciryth, but the elves could just sit in a corner dancing and still win at this point. The three skink supporters left in the crowd cheering and waving their rattles is a bolster to the side, for all the good it does - Takk gets a KO on Iraeffyn, but Irzz fumbles a still ball, and gets brought down by Please Don't Kill Me. Glorirel recovers the ball easily and horls back down to Berethorvir, who just mocks the skinks by moving deep into his own half. Mazz and Garr move to defend, for all the good it does, as Ethilhain moves to score. Again.
Nirr doesn't wake up. Ravv passes out. The elves have a full compliment minus the sole injured rookie Linesman. The rattle-wavers cheer futilely. The ball bounces off-field and the ball is handed to Vorr, who stomps up-field with a flank of four of the surviving skinks. Elves converge in a frenzy of bark and assholishness. Nothing happens. The skinks fuck off back to the changing rooms and plan on eating the head coach alive, for all the good it does.
MVPs were Irzz for being unable to hold a ball, and Aethyrd for getting a pair of injuries.
(...I fucking hate this game.)
Author
Topic: Bay12 Blood Bowl League - Season 14 Signup - TT S6, SF (Read 261103 times)