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White Men in Black Suits
Skills Pending [FT] Wood Elf

White Men in Black Suits

Chapter 0

Robert Robsson could do many things. And he liked to think that one of them was spot a potential star BloodBowl player on first glance. It had happened before, back in his early days with Tangleweed when Constantdrip Brokengutter had presented himself to the coach and asked for a chance to show what he could do. Right away, Robsson had seen a player with potential and he’d not been disappointed. 150 touchdowns, over 1700 yards rushing… he’d even outlived the very team he’d played for, which was quite an achievement for a wood elf. And there had been others since; Fastrecovering Housemarket, Thursdaynight Guitarclub...

But looking along the line of hopefuls standing before him this morning, he was not fortunate. Some of them at least looked like they knew why they were here. One even had the build of a potential catcher. But most looked like line-fodder, and pretty hopeless line-fodder at that. Most didn’t even have any armour, although Robsson knew from experience that when it came to wood elves, getting them to wear any clothes at all was a huge achievement. Armour could come later.

“Right”, he bellowed, much louder than he needed to. “I have ten slots available. I don’t have money to throw around and I can’t afford reserves so if you don’t make the top ten, you’re out. And you get one chance and one chance only, because I don’t have spare time to throw around either. Also, my decision is final. I don’t care what your standing in the clan is, or if your ancestors were great fighters of legend and lore. This is BloodBowl, not war. They may be similar in many ways, but you have to be a lot more skilful to survive in BloodBowl, believe me. Questions?”

One of the more intelligent-looking of the bunch raised his hand.
“Why only ten? Aren’t there eleven places on the team?”
Robsson smiled. A thinker. He liked that. That was potential passer material.
“Good point” he replied. “But as it happens, I’ve brought along a player of my own.” He clapped his hands and suddenly one of the trees on the side of the pitch came to life and lumbered across to where the elves were gathered.
“This” he announced, patting the treeman, “is your defensive line. His true name is long and difficult for me to remember but it doesn’t matter anyway. When you join my team you leave you real name behind and take on the name of one of the works of the great bards. It makes for good publicity and the anonymity has the added advantage of helping to protect your friends and family from revenge killings. We call him, The Lion and The Unicorn.”
The treeman nodded and tried to say hello but gave up and waved instead.

One of the hopefuls muttered something in elvish to his neighbour and the two of them laughed.
“Yes?” said Robsson. “Can I help you?”
“He smells of halfling,” the elf said. “A treeman who lives with the little folk is reduced in the eyes of elves. We call them saplings.”
“Well, this ‘sapling’ is the only player here who has BloodBowl experience and he may well be the only thing between you and a messy death on many occasions. I suggest you treat him with a lot more respect in future.”
“He has experience?” the thinker asked.
The treeman spoke.
“I was back up for the Legendary Longbottoms of Loath. I never actually got to play, but I trained for the whole offseason. I know most of the rules and I have my own armour as well.”

“Now,” announced Robsson. “Enough talk. Let’s play!”

The practice session was not a total disaster, but it came close. Of the thirty elves who had come looking for a place on his team, twenty-eight survived the session uninjured. Three had been knocked out. Two more had left early on when it became clear there would be no cheerleaders joining them. Of the survivors, Robsson had chosen five that would definitely make the grade. The thinker was in, as was the skinny one who could run faster than anyone else. Three others had enthusiasm and a certain amount of luck, which was good enough at this stage. Sadly, the remaining five places had been filled almost at random, Robsson choosing those whose names he could remember or who wore slightly more distinctive clothing.

He dismissed the failures and gathered his new team around him.
“Well, you’ll have to do. Any of you that feel the need for armour can help yourselves from the crate over on the sidelines. Most of it is still wearable and some of it doesn’t even have any blood on it. Yet.”

“Hey!” There was a shout from the far side of the field. “Am I too late for the tryout?”
Robsson looked across and saw the agile figure of a wardancer gliding towards him across the rough ground.
Wardancers. Robsson gave a slight groan. They were a huge bonus to a team and really couldn’t be ignored, but he knew from experience how difficult they were to manage. Always hogging the limelight, always demanding higher wages, better armour, the best seat on the travelling coach. And always turning up late to training sessions. Sometimes he wondered whether they really were worth the grief.
As the wardancer drew close he decided to impress the coach with a leap, aiming to land right in the centre of the group of players. He pushed off, rose majestically into the air, somersaulted for effect and came down with all the grace of a troll, directly on top of one of the makeweights who had been too awed, or too stupid, to get out of the way. There was an awkward-sounding crunch and only the wardancer got to his feet.

“Hi”, he announced with a smile, dusting himself off casually as if nothing had happened. “My name is Ariandel Skyhawk. I was hoping to try out if I’m not too late.”
He held out his hand in what he knew to be the human form of greeting, but sadly he offered it to Linus, the ball boy, not the coach. Robsson looked at the crumpled pile of player lying motionless on the ground and sighed.
“Well, you seem to have created an opening for yourself. But be warned, I will not stand for any showing-off.”
Skyhawk nodded enthusiastically.
“And there will be no favouritism. You’ll be treated the same as all the other players.”
Skyhawk nodded enthusiastically once more. Robsson was puzzled. He’d never seen a wardancer like this before. He decided to push his luck.
“I can’t pay you anything except expenses. And you’ll have to provide your own armour if you want anything fancy.”
Again Skyhawk nodded. Even the other elves were looking shocked by now.
“You don’t have a problem with any of that?” asked Robsson, waiting for the catch.
“No, not at all,” Skyhawk replied. “But there is one thing.”
“Go on” Robsson said, expecting the worst.
“Erm, I seem to have got myself into a little spot of trouble with a young lady… well, two young ladies actually. I wonder if it would be fine with you if I keep something of a low profile, just be one of the lads. And could I possibly use a different name, do you think?”
Robsson gave a great laugh.
“Beds are Burning, welcome to the White Men in Black Suits.”
There was a confused silence. Robsson sighed again. Wood elves. Fast, agile, as thick as the forest.
“Your name is now, Beds are Burning. You are named for a great ode from the famous bard, Midnightoil. And our team is called, White Men in Black Suits. It comes from the great epic, So Much for the Afterglow by Everclear the Unheardof.”
“But shouldn’t we be named for the area we come from?” asked one of the elves. “You know, like the Reikland Reavers, or the Lauralorn Paladins?”
“You mean something like the Athel Loren Afterthought” Robsson suggested with a smile. Some of the elves nodded appreciatively.
“No. Absolutely not. Now stop gossiping, clear away whatever-his-name-was and get ready for some proper training. Your first match is in two days.”



Now follow the team's adventures by reading their match reports.
New Team Page Beta
Player Ma St Ag Pa Av Skills Inj G Cp Td It Cs Mvp SPP Cost  
1
Treeman
2 6 1+ - 10+
Loner, Mighty Blow, Stand Firm, Strong Arm, Take Root, Thick Skull, Throw Team-Mate
Guard, Multiple Block
-ag 20 0 0 0 14 0 28/24 160k
(120+40)k
 
2
Thrower
7 3 4+ - 7+
Pass
Strong Arm, Accurate, Safe Throw, Sure Hands
  20 35 0 0 2 3 54/32 180k
(90+90)k
 
3
Catcher
8 3 4+ - 7+
Catch, Dodge, Sprint
Block, Sure Feet, Fend, +ST, Sure Hands
  21 1 34 0 0 2 113/50 220k
(90+130)k
 
4
Wardancer
8 3 4+ - 7+
Block, Dodge, Leap
Side Step, Tackle
  22 1 1 0 5 3 29/24 160k
(120+40)k
 
5
Lineman
6 2 4+ - 7+
Mighty Blow, Guard, Block
-ma, -st 20 1 1 0 3 5 35/28 150k
(70+80)k
 
6
Lineman
7 3 4+ - 7+
Block
  21 1 3 0 0 0 10/20 90k
(70+20)k
 
7
Lineman
7 3 4+ - 7+
Mighty Blow, Block
m 21 0 2 0 3 1 17/24 120k
(0)k
 
8
Wardancer
8 3 4+ - 7+
Block, Dodge, Leap
Grab, Strip Ball
n 12 0 4 0 1 1 19/24 170k
(120+50)k
 
9
Lineman
7 3 4+ - 7+
Block, Dodge
  19 2 0 0 2 2 16/24 110k
(70+40)k
 
10
Lineman
7 3 5+ - 7+
+AG
m 7 2 0 0 1 1 9/20 110k
(0)k
 
11
Lineman
7 3 4+ - 7+
Block, Dodge
m 22 0 2 0 4 2 24/24 110k
(0)k
 
12
Catcher
8 2 4+ - 7+
Catch, Dodge, Sprint
Block, Nerves Of Steel, Sure Feet
  10 7 8 0 0 2 41/28 160k
(90+70)k
 
13
Lineman
7 3 4+ - 7+   5 1 0 0 0 0 1/18 70k
(70+0)k
 
14
Catcher
8 2 4+ - 7+
Catch, Dodge, Sprint
  2 0 0 0 0 0 0/18 90k
(90+0)k
 
11 players (+3 players missing next game)
Coach: Stikki Re-Rolls (100k): 5  
Race: Wood Elf Dedicated Fans: 7  
Current Team Value: 1890k Assistant Coaches: 0  
Treasury: 110k Cheerleaders: 3  
Team Value: 2230k Apothecary: Yes  
Games this Season: 22 / 15 Current Re-draft Budget: 1350k

Games Played:22 (10/6/6) |TD Diff:18 (57 - 39) |Cas Diff:-15 (24/12/10 - 37/18/6)
Last Opponent: Fact or Fiction