“As they shuffled from the pitch, the angry cries of the orcish fans still ringing in their ears, the team came across a travelling dwarf team, lost in enemy territory. They imediatly issued a challenge, a chance to prove their strength to the hostile locals.

The team trudged back to the stadium they had just left, hearts beating fast as they anticipated a bloody game, and maybe a chance to leave this mortal coil.

The dwarves had not taken the crowd into consideration, and as the first ball was kicked, the angry orcs spilt onto the pitch, eager to make the stunties feel the power of the green army. Many lay on the floor groaning, a few knocked senseless, and one stretchered from the pitch. The necromatic team stood in amazement as their hopes of dying were dashed.

The game continued with the local authorities trying desperatly to regain some control, but again trouble came, the game being delayed whilst the pitch was cleared.

As the final whistle approached it was noticed that the newest wolf was favouring on leg slightly, it looked like he would have to rest and mend, Meanwhile Dreyden seemed to be more dexterous, a trait which seemed to be coming common place in the team.

The team had heard rumours of an agile race of beings, lithe of movement, as quick as rats, but so far it seemed they would not be able to find such a team, 'Elves' seemed to be too scared to take to the pitch, this troubled the team, they had tried the nastiest races around, and still they lived, but maybe tomorrow he'll come for them, and they would pray for his arrival”