New season

It was time. A new season.

Just outside the wreckage of a burning town named Copacabana, Marquis de Wholesale sighed, checked his pocket watch, and ordered his shambling thralls to return to a small field outside, which he’d booked specially in advance for this year’s training sessions…

An entire forest of peaceful wood elves was without warning swallowed up and regurgitated as a twitching mass of flesh and splintered wood and bone, as the dark gods of Chaos materialised an entire stadium in preparation for the upcoming Mead and Mayhem season…

In the sulphurous ruins of a conference facility just off the Great Eastern Road, a thousand high mages of the Association of Broadcasting Conjurers battled it out with an army of giggling sorcerers from the Necromancers’ Broadcasting Circle, trying to win exclusive Cabalvision rights for another year…

In the streets and alleyways of every town, Black scarves clashed with yellow banners, beer spilled into gore, and the chant went up, from a million mouths….. New season, new season, new season.

Alion was on his way with the rest of the Ravens to the location where the playpools draw would take place.

Poxstepper was glaring at the guest list and was praying to Papa Nurgle that those guests would not turn up as he knew his life could end that very moment. He glanced up.

“Ah, Captain Alion” he drawled, greeting the haughty, blonde-haired High Elf with a bow and a barely perceptible sneer (as per Poxstepper own personal beliefs that all elves, especially ones who dressed up in that black golden armour and the Raven sigil on the chest and ponced about with their nose in the sky, should be drawn, quartered, flayed alive, and have their kidneys placed on a platter as an appropriate sacrifice to Papa Nurgle). “It is our pleasure to have you – and the Nagaryth Ravens – amongst us again, sire.”

Alion looked down his nose at the pestigor and gave him a practiced look of undisguised revulsion.

“Tell us where we sit and stay away because i can’t guarantee your head will be in place if you show the way” he said, and do it quickly, before I change my mind and decide to take revenge for Ethymion right here and right now and just to make things clear, don’t think you have gotten away because I let you live today, it is my business to cleanse you from existence.”

Poxstepper, hairy fists clenching and unclenching vigorously, beneath his desk, smiled, nodded, and said,

“Yes, sire. Of course, sire.”

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