“"Are those even allowed?"
"Whatever we need..., you know there's a necromancer right on the lines, ready to put whatever we pull apart back together. With these, he won't be able to..."
"You sure?"
"Gotta try sometime,.."

With these words nobleman Karl put away his silver knucklebracers behind behind his breastplate. Time to to line-up versus some unholy creatures, fresh from their shallow graves.

The first official league-match starts. The brotherhood receives first, and starts to bash down on the opposing zombies and other horrid beasts. Early in the first half one of the werewolfs makes a break for it and claws at Karls armour. He barely manages to stay upright, only to smack the evil wolf right in the eyes with his silver bracers. A deafening howl ensues as the wolf smacks down on the pitch, head cracked open, blood flowing. He won't be getting up. Ever.

Feeling triumphant about his little trick working, Karl sprint towards the other wolf, and bashes his brains in too. Only this team the opposing team's necromancer was better prepared, and saves the wolf from his wounds.

Still, not a bad score, these wolves won't hamper our game today.
”