Da Board Room
The air inside the tent was thick. Fungal brew bubbled away on a fire in the corner. A withered boy slave poked at the mixture with a wooden spoon. Pinpricks of light shone through the tattered cloth above, making the rotting table glimmer like an old Dwarven mine. Snux sat in his chair. He had been waiting for Kuldag to speak for fifteen life times so far. At least that’s what it felt like. But the old orc wasn’t one to rush. And Snux wasn’t going to rush him. The snotling coach knew well why he was here in the Big Boss’s tent.
Kuldag sat back in his chair and stretched his arms out, his sinuous body cracking from years of hardship. “Dey said I was mad in the ‘ed when I started dis Ogre team. ‘Why not an Orc team, bring yer old friends along?’ dey would say. But after I won dat bet with a slaver for four baby Ogres, I knew what I ‘ad to do. Trained dem from babies, I did. An’ all for a coach to mess it up.”
The orc glared at the small snotling. Snux felt a yelp bubbling in his throat as he squirmed in his chair. “I shoulda coached the team me self. But dat ban. All’s fair in Blood Bowl dey sed. A game for da toughies dey sed. But yer lets Squigs into one Khemri trainin’ ground and get booted from the league!” Kuldag emphasised this by booting the boy slave in the behind, sending him clear out of the tent. The Orc smiled, still got it he thought. He walked back to his chair and let his enormous body slump into it. “Let’s go through da games den?” If Snux could get any paler he’d be whiter than the Mountains of Mourn.
“Match one was against Skinnies. You might as well ‘ave stayed at ‘ome! No scorin’, no urtin’, nuthin!” Kuldag smashed his meaty fists on the table. It buckled under the impact, only the fungal rot keeping it together. “Farkle ‘ad fun, but e’s fick, int he?” The boy slave reappeared, carrying a plate of meats of dubious origin. He scrambled over to the table, placed the plate down, and scampered back to stirring the fungus brew. Kuldag grabbed a handful of meat and crammed it into his maw.
“The next one wuz betta. Couple of scores. But no krumpin’? These humans are like twigs to snap!” he bellowed, spraying flecks of meat over the shivering coach. Kuldag turned to the slave boy, “Oi! Dat brew ready yet?” The boy cowered. He ladled out a bowl for the enraged orc. He placed it on the table at almost the same time as running out of the orc’s reach. Kuldag drained the bowl in a few gulps. Snux couldn’t tell if the brew caused the Big Boss to calm down, but his rage seemed to subside.
“Dis last game…dis last game I liked. If yer aren’t gonna score, hurt ’em. So we lost a few snots. You lot aren’t important. Get you by the bucketload if I want,” the orc grinned. The snotling didn’t. “So, ‘ere’s what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna let you ‘ave one more game in charge. Yer beat the Mighty Gorgons, or I eat yer. Simple as dat. Now leave, before yer go in pot!” The orc grabbed at the last of the meat. Snux was sure he recognised one of the chunks.
“Erm, thanks boss,” Snux squeaked as he clambered down from his chair. Snux didn’t know what to do. Was this a trick? Should he run away now and become a troll rider? How would he get the rabble to beat the league leaders?
The threats were still pounding in his head as Snux made his way back to the team practice field. Fungus and Fergus were playing catch with Wicket. Farkle was attempting to learn a new touchdown dance, even though he’d never held a ball for longer than a blink. Deej was lying on the floor, back still hurting from the previous game. Three new snots were over the far end trying to stop Fungus from getting past them. New, and stupid.
Looking over his team, Snux realised he would need some outside help…
Just a short fluff piece as I haven’t done a write up for any of the games so far. I may go back to full write ups for the next game, or I may do a fluff style write up, similar to this. Unsure yet, cheers!
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