The order of the Holy Squirrel
The battle for Bretonnia part Deux
A great many things had transpired in the world of the Holy Squirrels over the course of the MML post season 17 and season 18 itself .
A loss once again at the hands of the Ubersreik Flamers in round one of the season 17 Pro Playoffs had taken the wind out of the Squirrels usual upbeat sails and the Squirrel camp had kept their heads down and focused to the task of fighting their way into the playoffs once more in season 18.
But as is the exceptional high quality of teams and coaches in the MML that is a task much easier said than done .Lazy Smurf , Orc passing plays , stupid Witch Elves , Saurus picking up balls , Vampire shenanigans, zogging Dwarfs killing poor sweet Sir Gildhart Godcannon and a certain someone who’s earnt a special place hell Hack ‘n’ Slash, had hampered the Squirrels all season .
The latter Hack not only carved a bloody rampage through the Squirrels on their meeting against The Bangle Pharaohs but ever since, late in the dead of night, blood cuddling screams would ring out through the living quarters of the Holy Squirrels players . Usually followed by a player running screaming down the corridor “HE’S GOING TO GET MEEEEEEEEEE !!! ”
And so thus the Holy Squirrels had failed to make the playoffs but all was not lost my dear reader . For the Holy Squirrels had qualified for one of the MML’s prestigious Bowl games !! The Tailsmans’R’Us bowl no less and what’s more against their old Bretonnian rivals the Mousillon Mourning Stars.
The Mousillon Mourning Stars had once been a chivalrous and noble household though they were owned by the rather darsteadly and pig headed Count Archibald Drumph . A dark pact with the vampiric lords of Sylvania had risen the fallen Mourning Stars of old as dreaded Vampires, and the lands of Mousillon were plunged into darkness.
“ These so called Holy Squirrels…..are not Bretonnian Squirrels……..they are nasty dirty foreign Squirrels …..” announced Count Drumph to the pre game press.
“We are going to …CRUSH….these dirty Squirrels …and send them packing back to the holes they crawled out from .”
Mighty was the clash between the Mourning Stars and the Squirrels, great plays worthy of song , heroics worthy of legend . The Vampiric players of the Mourning Stars had no equal but, the Squirrels had Zara the slayer. The bane of the undead , Zara had been hired by Sir Andy at great cost but she was worth every gold piece .
Once the dust had settled Zara had scratched a few more notches on to her stakes and the Squirrels had done what not many thought possible and had Won the Tailsmans’R’Us bowl .
Unallowed to celebrate their victory , the Holy Squirrels were kick out of Mousillon the moment the match finished. Beyond their great stone wall , along with the 16,000 fans that had turned up to watch the game so the victory “parade” had began its slow merry march back to Parravon .
Now “march” may be a strong word to use. For only a few miles were covered each day due to the vast amount of people in the procession, and the huge sum of alcohol they all consumed . Every bar and taven on their route through Bordeleaux, Bastonne and Montfort was to be drank dry and within the first week word had gotten to the Empire and the Dwarven realms of the great parade and brewmasters from all corners of the Old World rushed in haste to make a fortune supplying the great roaming party .
Actors , poets and bards plied their trade to the masses , telling of the great tale of the Tailsmans’R’Us victory and the ever growing legend of the Holy Squirrels. Horse cart bakeries , butchers , brothels and biscuit makers kept everyone fed and at the front leading the way were the Squirrels themselves , led by Sir Andy carrying the Tailsmans’R’Us trophy high in the air for all to follow .
A month to the day of their victory did the Holy Squirrels finally arrive back in their homeland of Parravon . By this point the celebratory parade had become a moving town. What had started as around 16,000 upon being booted out of Mousillon had grown to over 25,000 and all came down on the kingdom of Parravon like a drunken tidal wave . The party was rekindled anew and the Squirrels home stadium it’s epicenter.
The oak doors of Sir Andy’s office burst open with a lock splitting crash. The coach had lost his keys somewhere between Castle Bastonne and Axe Bite Pass but nothing a good stout kick wouldn’t fix by Jove.
Zigzagging his way over to his display cabinet Sir Andy drunkenly slammed down the Tailsman’s trophy down next to the Bloodwieser and Happy Serenity Cups .
“Th…….th……there.. yooooo…go ..my pretty………..khahaha…. ha…….ha……..Tree dooown…..und …tree…ta….go…!”. BURP !!!