With the second season of the Northern Wastes Cup bearing down on us, two of the teams took to the field for a 'friendly' encounter to sound each other out. The Arthurian Cycle, an Imperial Human team, and the Badland Scabs Goblins squared off across the grass on a lovely summer afternoon, in front of a minimal crowd of four thousand fans.
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With Chaos Moles making the footing treacherous for sprinters and some suspiciously amiable conversation between the Goblins and the ref, the game commenced. The Arthurians kicked off and prepared themselves for a swarming, gibbering horde attack by the Goblins.
What ensued was a very, very careful feeling out by both teams, with the ball clutched by the Doom Diver who was huddled behind the two Trolls - intellectual giants of their kind who spent the off moments discussing higher mathematics.
Finally, the Goblin Chainsaw merchant made a rush at King Arthur himself, brandished his infernal device and gurgled with horror as it kicked back, cut a slice out of his head and put him in the horse-drawn ambulance. Arthur, rather put out by this decidedly unchivalrous weapon, proceeded to stamp on the shins of the goblin #5 and send him to join his compatriot. The fans sat up; this might be more like it!
The Goblin Looney whirled across the scrim line, sending linemen flying, only to fetch up against the Ogre Mordred, who had a decent go at ramming the ball down his throat.
Things descended into what was to turn out to be the main theme of this match from there; a confused, tangled maul in the middle of the pitch, with the ball changing hands and bouncing in all directions and players knocked down and getting up at a remarkable rate.
Arthur, attempting to be clever, executed a Jump over a downed goblin as several others grabbed at him, landed on the ball, picked it up, turned to dart away from the goblins and trolls surrounding him, was tripped and went flat on his face with the tweety birds. After that, despite much struggle, nothing really changed until half-time.
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The Groundsmen having successfully eradicated the moles, the second half started with a sudden cloudburst of rain which rendered the ball nicely slippery. Sure enough, the half was dominated by the same "I got it - I not got it" play that had had the crowd guffawing in the first. Deprived of their first two Secret Weapons, the goblins played their Bomma from the reserves.
Arthur made an early run after having the ball fed to him by Neville, but was ganged up on and knocked down by a swarm of (OK, two) goblins. As he lay there, he goggled at a rapidly approaching explosive device; fortunately for him it missed. No sooner was he on his feet than another one came looping towards him. With some deftness he caught it - just in time for it to go off in his face, knocking him and Guinevere flat.
Meanwhile, the ball had ended up with the Doom Diver again, who scuttled in behind the No.1 troll. The monster player grabbed him up, considered taking a bite, decided against it and hurled the squeaking gobbo down the field! The throw was decidedly shaky and the small greenskin ploughed an unhappy furrow as he piled into the turf.
Gaheris the Thrower siezed the opportunity and bagged the ball, passing it to Pellinore who started a run up the left side with Bors puffing in his wake. Poor Arthur, having tried to knock the Bomma down three times and failed, looked round to see yet another sputtering bomb heading towards him. It clanged into his breastplate, dropped at his feet and went off, knocking him out and putting him on (under) the bench.
With Pellinore dispossessed of the ball, Bors had scooped it up but the incendiary goblin dropped another one on Galahad next to him. Galahad caught it, looked pleased with himself and then was blasted off his feet as he failed to throw it away in time. He and Bors went down and the ball bounced away yet again.
With punches flying, another quick-fire maul ensued, broken only by Mordred putting another goblin (#3) into the sick tent.
A last desperate attempt at a ludicrous pass by the Cycle left the ball bouncing erratically around the centre sport until the #1 troll by some miracle of cogitation actually caught it. Beaming with triumph, he held it up for inspection as the final whistle went.
Final result - 0-0 draw.
| Arthurian Cycle | Badland Scabs | |
|---|---|---|
| TD | 0 | 0 |
| CAS | 3, #11 | 0 |
| FANS |