The cold water trickled down the back of von Engelbrecht’s neck, rinsing away the already unpleasant odour of the Six-X, and perhaps more importantly, the lingering smell of death and decay. Steffan von Engelbrecht hated playing against Undead teams, the stench was often overpowering, the cold aura emanating from the wights, the inane chatter and skittishness of the ghouls ….. Still, it had been a productive evening for the hottest Blitzer on the market right now. 2 touchdowns and 2 turnovers, a 5th successive victory for the Marauders, and a 3rd MVP of the season – life was good right now. Unbeknownst to his teammates, von Engelbrecht was putting himself into the shop window for one of the legendary big league teams to pick him up, such as the Reikland Reavers, or even the likes of more recently successful institutions like Los Pumas or Dream Wild.
Amazingly, he hadn’t been followed by any of his teammates for further pranking, it was just him and a somewhat emaciated looking janitor almost grudgingly mopping the floor in the background.
Why do the Undead bother with showers and running water, the player mused to himself as he turned up the temperature.
The Skavenblight Scramblers next, no doubt they will be-
von Engelbrecht felt a sudden, intense pain radiate from the pack of his head. White blotches erupted in front of his eyes and he lost his balance on the wet changing room floor. He caught the faintest glimpse of the janitor wielding his mop like a club, and just about caught sight of an impossibly toothy grin before blacking out completely …
Conrad and Git slipped into the shower room, to see the attendant Gerhart Steelcaps had been successful, despite not sporting his traditional footwear. Looks like he had it easier … not that it will matter, obeserved the coach.
“Bind and blind him, quickly!” Urged the coach.
“Heh, you want me to remove his eyes? As you command …”
“No! Use these … ” Git passed over the satchel he was carrying. Inside were 2 lengths of rope and a burlap sack. Whilst the coach pondered just exactly what he was left with now that Blavod was gone, Conrad and Gerhart set to work tying the human’s arms behind his back, and securing the sack over his head – somewhat laboriously it must be said. Some minutes later, Conrad hoisted the limp human onto his shoulder, and the 3 of them walked out of the room. Security at the stadium was laughable – it was non-existent, but then who would want to roam around the stadium of an Undead team anyway!?
Having made it to the horse-drawn wagon Git has grown accustomed to travelling in, they loaded the body inside, and Gerhart took the reins…