“The game against the Chaos Dwarf team Accion Social went better than could be expected. The final score was 2-1 in favor of the Archers of Avelon, but it was a match where the elves were dominant. They gave up the consolation point in the final seconds of the match when they overcommitted to an effort to get a third point. It left them out of position and unable to complete a shut-out.

As such, the team was in high spirits when they convened at the Shining Bauble after the match. The Archers were already digging deep into the wine cellar when Archie handed Corbis an early copy of the sports section of the Avelon Herald. Corbis had to stand on the bar and bang pans together to get anyone’s attention but eventually the dancing and music stopped long enough for him to speak.

“What I hold are the final standings for this season of Elves Leaving the Forest.”

A low murmur brewed through the tavern and Corbis continued.

“The grand champion this season goes to the wood elf team Meet the Feebles Variety Hour with 410 points.”

A chorus of boos filled the room and an air of disappointment was palpable.

“Second place belongs to The Archers of Avelon with 383 points.”

The boos were replaced by cheers and glasses tapped together in toasts. Corbis could barely be heard but he continued.

“E=Mc2, Slim Chance Brigade, and Redemption Songs round out the top five places. It also says that the Archers of Avelon will receive laurels for the Category C leading performance against Khemri and Undead teams.”

Corbis kept reading but by now the merriment had resumed with greater fervor than before. The Archers had attained a degree of glory they had expected but until this moment had not been able to make a reality. For this season, they were the most successful High Elf team in the old world. In the coming months the targets they aimed at on the practice field and the range would be decorated with Feeble as a reminder of the next stage of greatness.

Kondor stood to leave the Shining Bauble and was confronted by Osonia.

“Where do you think you are going?” she said with a drunken slur. “There is a medal and laurels to be tattooed.”

Kondor was unfazed and laughed directly in her face. “Second place is the first loser. Grab a gold medal and I will happily sit for the needle.”

Stymied and drunk, Osonia stumbled out of the way when Kondor pushed past her to the door. This time he had a valid argument.

”