“CIBBL - Y8, Spring - Athel Loren: round 4:

In their fourth game of the season Modryn’s Midnight Meddlers faced the Drakwold Thicketkeepers. Timaris Stormwing, the Meddlers’ head coach, had regained his place on the bench after a short period of absence. His mind had been distracted by another project of his. But now he had returned for the game that would decide who would win the regional championship of Athel Loren. Would the Meddlers prolong their title or would their feral challengers win their first? This game would tell. Timaris, covered in his usual green cape, was watching his team warming up. Mereia, the head coach gave some last instructions to Hauclir and Nimrodel before installing herself in her favorite corner of the bench. She was wearing her tank top and fingerless gloves, and carried a black cap in her hands. “The team is ready coach”, she addressed Timaris, while slightly adjusting her shades. “Good”, Timaris replied dryly, “let the game begin”.

The referee blew his whistle and the game kicked off. Weary about the opposition’s hired wizard, Timaris had instructed his team to kick rather than receive in the first half. The Meddlers applied pressure on the ball right from the start, resulting in Hauclir getting ko’d in turn two. But it also offered Isilvar the opportunity to knock the ball free in the same turn. “Yes”, Timaris grinned, “that’s it! Wrestle that carrier down!” Seconds later the smile on his face disappeared as quickly as it had manifested itself when Nimrodel snaked the pick-up. The ball landed far away, where the Thicketkeepers quickly and easily recovered. “Don’t worry, boss” Mereia tried to comfort Timaris. “More opportunities will follow”, she continued while ordering her first martini of the evening.

And indeed, in turn three Caelir pushed himself inside the corner of the cage, allowing Ethandril to knock down the ball carrier. Syrabeth followed in her brother’s wake and managed to recover the ball. “See?”, Mereia winked towards her boss, “I told you”. At that very moment Syrabeth got charged by the Kurnocervus, who knocked her unceremoniously out of the game. “Bet you saw that coming too?”, Timaris reacted with a sneer as Mereia quickly turned her head again towards the pitch, silently slurping from her martini. To make matters worse Kivan was badly hurt the same turn. The Meddlers’ numbers were dwindling. Nevertheless the wood elves hung on and in turn five Ethandril knocked the ball free a second time (third time in total). Unfortunately it landed right into the hands of a shape changer. “Kurnous’ balls!”, Timaris cursed on the bench. “Be careful with what you wish for boss”, Mereia commented. “After all, it’s Kurnous himself we’re playing here”. By then the Meddlers’ numbers had been further reduced to five players, allowing the Thicketkeepers to run in the opening touchdown in turn eight: 0-1 for the Drakwald, despite having kicked loose the ball no less than three times. When the subsequent one-turner effort stranded with a failed go for it on the endline, Timaris’ facial nerves started showing the first sign of spasms.

Disaster continued for the Meddlers when the second half started with a Blitz! It got worse when Aewyn got incapacitated one turn later. Another promising career thwarted before it even blossomed. The same turn Vanhir died as well. Yes, Kurnous was definitely on fire. But the worst still had to come. Kodama, who’d survived a blitz from Nimrodel, 1d-powed Hauclir in turn two, liberating the ball. Then ag6 Beorl moved in and stole the ball, lobbing it towards st4 Trey. A huge problem in itself already, the situation become a full catastrophe when Isilvar snaked his dodge next turn on the blitz. On the bench Timaris nearly experienced a new nervous breakdown, and Mereia thought it safer to take over the reins. Not that there was much she could do, other than ordering a second martini, as she witnessed Ethandril getting badly hurt in turn three. Outnumbered and outclassed, with both wardancers out, there was nothing much the Meddlers could do to change the situation. The Thicketkeepers still even hadn’t used their wizard. Nothing much happened in the remaining turns of the game. The Meddlers tried to get to the ball, but had lost the numbers to set up a steal. In turn eight their fate was sealed: 0-2.

A total off-day for the Meddlers. The title is now lost.
”