“Fourth league match, DOTP

A dank, heavy smell fills Klose's nostrils as he wakes up from his sickbed. Moments later he feels a loud, stinging sentation in his head, and he realizes he is no longer on the pitch. Klose puts a hand to his head, and feels a crude bandage wrapped over his eye and the back of his head. Looking at his hand, it comes back bloody.

Startled , Klose becomes more aware of his surroundings and tries to recall some details of the match, or rather, the abbatoir he just left. Just before all went black him and Theo had made a break for an open area of the field, whilst the wretched little creatures surrounded Erich and David, the four of them the only remaining Men.

He did recall Berndt and Jürgen getting torn up by chainsaws, he mostly remembered the swooshing sound of the huge metal flails, never stopping, hitting metal and bone. There hadn't been much of a game, the goblins went after their lives today.

The Men had tried to bring those fanatics down, those chainsaw and flailwielding loonatics. This was their folly. Standing too close to the fire, you will get burned. And the Men got burned harshly: a loud coughing and moaning fills the infirmary, as Klose looks around he sees Karl with a bandage around his face: the flail hit him in the head and he is probably going to have to do without one of his eyes from now on. Michael, Luther, Jürgen, Berndt and Günter are also here, in varying stages of awareness.

One of the last things Klose remembers before he succumbs to a herb-induced slumber again was that one of the goblins stood out, a very unusual one. This critter jumped twice his own height up in the air, grabbed the ball, and ran it to his endzone.

Everything went black again.


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(Notes: my catcher Theo played exceptionally well when it was 4 versus 11, almost breaking free for a score, the rest of the Men got bashed, clawed en smashed at. We put a bounty on the intercepting goblin after this game.)
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