The Choice Is Made !!!

Coach Warthog lay asleep in his chambers. His mind plagued by thoughts of Nurgle, Chaos Dwarves and Wood Elves. Each player flashing through his mind before being pushed out by a dark mist, engulfing each one and vanishing them from sight only for another player to appear and the same to happen again. Eventually the beings stopped appearing , the dark mist dissipated and Warthog found himself standing alone in a familiar looking cemetery. Whispers could be heard, too quiet to decipher what they were saying, too quick to determine how many voices there were, when suddenly the noise intensified, shouting, banging, clattering to an unbearable level!  He tossed and turned in his sleep trying to awake from this nightmare but it seemed as though someone or something was keeping him in his slumber, not letting him be free from it!

As he contained himself his eyes focused through the fog in front of him. A thin, solitary figure stood before him, standing on a mound and looking down on him. Coach Hairy froze, not knowing what action to take next when he felt the wind on his face, a cold breeze that chilled his flesh as the gust passed him he heard a voice,

if you build it, they will come”.

Composing himself again Hairy looked up at the figure. Motionless, staring at him with dead, empty eyes. No features, no skin, just a skull gazing at him. Hairy tried to speak but no words came out, he tried to move but his body was petrified on the spot. Panic began to set in in his helpless state which got a whole lot worse as the being began making his way towards him, stopped, crouched down and picked something up from the long grass. He stood up, looked at Warthog and proceeded to throw the ball shaped object directly at him! The ball hurtled towards him and was on target to collide with his head, at the moment of impact Hairy was knocked back and fell flat on his back!

Waking up on the floor of his chambers, the coach took a moment to get his bearings again, realised he had been dreaming and stumbled over to the balcony to get some fresh air to wake himself up. He walked out into the night air and froze on the spot. He could not believe what he could see and thought he was still dreaming.

‏Hundreds upon hundreds of skeletal beings stood below him, filling the astrogranite and continued to rise from the earth in the cemetery behind. He felt a presence behind him, a thin boney hand in his shoulder gripping him enough for him to know he was no longer dreaming. Turning to face the creature he winced in horror, the skeleton’s mandible was missing and slugs were crawling from the empty eye sockets. The skeleton lifted his other hand and presented a rolled up parchment to the disgusted coach, again that same voice entered his mind.

“If you build it, they will come”.

Unrolling the scroll, Hairy laid it out and studied the diagrams and drawings before him, it appeared to be the blue prints of a very large building, an arena, a blood bowl stadium! The structure was huge and would take hundreds of workers to construct, Hairy shook his head, and looked at the skeleton again, who in turn pointed to the mass of assembled creatures who stood motionless on the ground below them, again Hairy heard it,

“If you build it, they will come”.


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