Coach DwarfGiant reclined in his Elf skin chair supping his pint of XXXXXX. It had been a tough week. Following a disappointing first season, having lost 4 of their 8 games, (although it hadn’t been all bad – they’d won plaudits for their exciting play, and awards were given for their on field violence) there had to be improvement.
First up had been his kinsmen, the Grimbeards. They’d been after blood following The Kings victory last season. And blood there had been – Azhag the Black Orc and Morgnik the Blitzer would both be missing for their next game. At least Badfak had secured the game for The Kings again after the Apothecary patched him up.
Drills had been intense. Gobbo’s had been thrown, and eaten, Bellyguff had got his eye in (after it had been poked out by a terrified goblin) and an outlandish play was a possibility. It needed to be; they were down to 11 for the game against The Holy Squirrels. Numbers had never been so thin.
DwarfGiant put his heavy boots up on his desk and wracked his brains. What could he do to gain an edge against the Bretonnian team? What weakness could he expose? They were famous for…being honourable! Romantic! Drinking wine!
Three days later the plan was set. The wine had extra ingredients added – they would help the Bretonnians ‘relax’, DwarfGiant had promised his team would play fair and square if their opponents did (of course, humans – especially filthy peasants – weren’t worthy of promises so it didn’t really count if this wasn’t stuck to). Finally DwarfGiant had gathered some lovely ladies to distract his rivals.
Their job was to stand at the sidelines and pout, remove clothing and pandour to the Squirrels affections at crucial moments. What hot blooded Bretonnian could not be distracted? There was gorgeous Gertrude – a fine figure of a Dwarf with a long blonde beard and a strong womanly scent (not to be confused with the local fish mongers), Beautiful Beula (nicknamed Wellytop) – The most promiscuous Orc this side of the Worlds Edge Mountains. With all her experience she couldn’t fail to tempt the opposing players when needed. Finally there was Buttercup – an Ogress with a bosom that kept her knees warm. A full figured woman to say the least (bigger is always better) that the Bretonnians could not fail to miss.
DwarfGiant shuddered when he thought of the many other ladies that had auditioned/been offered payment. Pickings had been slim this side of the Worlds Edge Mountains. At least he had found these three fine examples. He had a good feeling about this, especially after his debacle with the faulty Skink Stamping boots he had bought last season. His plan surely couldn’t fail this time. Surely not…