They sat there, all around the table, the feast finished and their foppish appitites sated. All the Coaches had smiled and patted each other on the back, offering their platitudes and all the while plotting each others downfall, only one was missing, where could he be? The woodland coach was renown for his punctuality and good manners, not like him to miss a gathering.
The Vampire coach (Hawca…. Or something equally haughty and unpronouncable) stiffened in his seat, his superior senses allowing him to catch a faint whiff of blood mixed with decay just before the doors at the end of the room thundered open. All the collected coaches, all veterans of a thousand games of the most brutal sport in the history of….. well, history recoiled in shock and horror as a nightmare made flesh entered the room. The Necromancer looked puzzled, it had all the appearance of wolf, but rarely did they grow to this size, and the grace with which it moved left him speechless.
With a flick of its massive head the Worg tossed a broken and bloody corpse onto the table scattering the crockery and forcing the assembled coaches to scrabble backwards in shock, the body of a woodland elf landed with a thud blood still leaking from multiple wounds. The Worg glared around daring anyone to step forward,to challenge it. Only the Vampire held its gaze, and even he looked concerned.
“Hold” came a whispered command and the beast cowered enabling the rooms occupants to see that three figures had entered the room in the confusion, two stood flanking a third, towering over his hunched form but clearly subserviant to him, the third had spoken, and now he spoke again…..
“Gentlmen, sorry for the intrusion and the rather dramatic enterance, I did so want to get your attention” he shuffled forward and with a crooked hand took an unbroken glass from the table, drinking deeply he continued “you may have noticed an unusual absence, for that I must apologise, your woodland associate has been….. unavoidably delayed” he smiled to himself “ he’s currently raising funds for some unforseen apothacry bills” he gestured to the remains on the table “as you can see, some of his team are not doing so well” almost on queue the elf groaned.
“For those of you unsure about the situation let me be perfectly clear, I was formally of the Norse team ‘Speedo Heroes’ now by an act of fate coach of the newest team to grace this place” he waved a dismissive hand around “ Im not here to make friends, play nice or socialise, Im here for revenge, however to get to the people I need to thank for my current predicament I apparently have to go through you” the last words where said with some venom “So, gentleman, with that in mind I’ll leave you to your musings, I look forward to seeing you all soon” he rose to leave.
“Wait” the voice was cultured and strong, a strange accent lending it a commanding tone, “you and your… creations may be impressive to some but I’ve been around for a thousand years, and will be for a thousand more, I’ve seen teams rise and fall, what makes you think you’ve even earned the right to join this group?” The vampires sat with his hands steeped in front of him apparently unconcerned by all that had passed.
“Earned the right? Earned the right? I’ll tell you why I have the right, my name is Eilivar, Captain to a murdered crew, disgraced Blood bowl star and I am the reason the Brettonians lock their castles at night” The last part he screamed “PREACHMELDA, I’m coming for you and those cursed squirrels”
With that he stood and started to walk towards the door, he stopped and half turned, addressing the Vampire as if he was the only other person present “I look forward to meeting you on the field sir, then we shall see whether I’m worthy of your attention”. The Vampire smiled a chilling look that would freeze a lesser mans blood “Yes we will, and sooner than you think……”
To be Continued…………