“It makes sense,” said Lügner with scorn. “The Guterfiends have worshipped Khorne for decades, and he was in their pocket.”
Dirk stared at his father in disbelief. “That’s a glass castle you’re standing in there.”
“Hey, I gave it up.” Lügner gazed up at Khorne. “Look what it got me.”
“They’re still short a player,” Anfager said. “Think we can get them to forfeit?”
Pegleg shook his head. “They’ll find someone they can press into service, have no doubt.” He glanced down at his hook. “Daemons excel at that sort of thing.”
“Look at this!” said Jim. “The Game Wizards are coming in to break up this shindig! They’ll set things straight!”
“Jim,” Bob said, “I don’t know what it is you’ve been smoking over there since we ended up in the Realms of Chaos, but you’d better damn well share it!”
“That’s not me!” said Jim. “That’s the network’s Censer Wizard, who’s in charge of keeping our broadcast clean. The smoke is coming out of his ears!”
Dunk spotted Blaque and Whyte running across the field towards them. “Right!” the dwarf said as they trotted up. “You didn’t have a team wizard. Now you have two.”
Dunk coughed in surprise.
“You can’t do that,” Dirk said. “It violates the GWs’ neutrality.”
Blaque glanced over at Khorne, who still stood waiting. “Can anyone blame us if we ignore a few picky regulations at this point?” he asked Whyte.
“I don’t see how,” said the elf.
“Fair enough, then,” said Blaque as he turned to Pegleg. “We’re with you now.”
“We’re still going to get slaughtered,” Dunk said. “We can’t play against a Chaos Lord.”
Spinne and Lügner started to protest Dunk’s lack of faith, but Pegleg cut them off. “The young Mr. Hoffnung has a point.”
The ex-pirate pivoted on his wooden leg and strode out towards midfield. He stopped ten yards short of Khorne. “Ahoy, the Blood God!” he said.
Khorne bowed his head to look down at the man. “You are ready?”
“The Bad Bay Hackers accept your challenge and will play on your terms — with one exception.”
“Which is?”
“You must sit on the sidelines and not interfere with the game, except as a coach.”
Khorne unfolded his arms and cracked his knuckles. They made a sound like claps of thunder. “Why?”
“We are but mortals and can barely tolerate your mighty presence. If you are on the field, you cannot play.”
“Plus,” Dr. Pill said, strolling up behind the coach, “the Chaos Cup’s spell requires your champions to beat ours. If you play, you technically cannot be considered a champion. You run the risk of negating the spell and everything you’ve worked for.”
Khorne stared down at the two men. For a moment, Dunk thought he might smite them dead right there.
Instead, an evil smile played across his face. “Standard rules. Sudden death,” he said.
“Done,” Pegleg said without hesitation.
A moment later, Ichorbod’s body fell away from Khorne as if the Blood God’s own form — which then revealed itself — had turned as insubstantial as that of a ghost. It crashed to the ground at an awkward angle, leaving Khorne floating there in the air in all his gory glory.
Khorne slowly settled to the ground. He snapped a salute at the Hackers and then stomped back to the All-Stars’ dugout. The ground shook as he walked, and he left wide pools of blood behind in every footstep.
“Wow, folks!” Bob’s voice said. “It looks like we have a game here!”
“And not just any game,” said Jim. “The only game I’ve ever been to where the fate of the Empire rests on its outcome!”
“Not to mention all our lives!” Lästiges chipped in.
“Always looking on the dark side, aren’t you?” said Bob. “I’ve been dead for centuries!”
As Khorne left the field, Zauberer strode up to Ichorbod’s headless form. Once there, he removed something from a pocket deep within his robes and waved it over the stump of the creature’s neck.
“What’s that bastard doing?” asked Dirk.
“I don’t know,” Dunk said with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, “but it can’t be good.”
Zauberer pulled out a knife with his other hand and sliced open Ichorbod’s neck stump. As the blood flowed hot and free from it, he jammed the thing in his hand into the wound. He chanted a few words over it, and then stepped back to admire his work.
One of Ichorbod’s legs twitched, then the other. Soon the entire body convulsed to a spastic beat no one else could hear. Then it stopped.
The body pushed itself up on its arms and then climbed to its feet. As it did, Dunk saw a small sphere sticking up out of the centre of the neck. From this distance, he couldn’t make out what it was, but he had the awful feeling it was staring right at him.
Then he heard a pitiful squeak, and he knew what Zauberer had done. Despite the stifling heat in this horrible realm, he shivered.
“Can we get a close-up on Ichorbod’s neck there?” asked Bob. “Thanks!”
The image on the Jumboball zoomed in at the top of the troll. Dunk watched it until he could pick out a confirmation of his fears. There, stuck atop the stump of Ichorbod’s neck, sat Skragger’s shrunken head. The vampiric orc’s skull must have gone flying in the blast from the bolt of lightning that had incinerated Triomphe, and Zauberer had used his magic to locate and collect it.
“Dear Nuffle’s nasties!” Jim said. “It’s Skragger, the black orc legend and former captain of the Chaos All-Stars! He’s back!”
“And looking better — if far stranger — than ever!” Bob said.
Skragger flexed the muscles on his huge, new, acid-skinned body and grinned up at his image on the Jumboball.
“That’s right!” Skragger growled with an insane grin. “And the Hackers are dead!”
32
Rhett Bool limped into the centre of the field. One of his horns had been snapped in half, and the end of it was missing. “Captains!” he said, his voice carried over the PA system. “Please meet in the centre of the field for the coin toss!”
Cavre trotted over to the minotaur referee, while Skragger stomped there from the other side of the field. Cavre offered his hand, but Skragger refused to take it and snarled at him instead.
“We are playing by the standard rules, but the game will be sudden death. The first score wins the game.” Bool glanced up at the blood-red, lightning-traced sky. “Here, the All-Stars are considered the home team. The visiting team calls the coin toss in the air.”
Bool pointed at Cavre. “Orcs or Eagles?” he said, and flipped the coin into the air.
“Eagles!” Cavre called out.
“Orcs!” said Bool.
The crowd groaned as one.
“Do you wish to kick-off or receive?” Bool asked Skragger.
The creature showed his fangs with a horrible grin. “Receive.”
“We will take the south end of the field,” Carve said, pointing back to where the Hackers already stood. He glanced at the mountain faces leering down at the game. “If that means anything here.”
Cavre called the Hackers to him before they scattered to their positions.
“This is bad,” he said, “but not insurmountable, as they will have the ball first. The good thing is that they will start deep in their own territory. We cannot let them score.
“This is no time to settle old fights. We must take the ball from them as fast as we can. Once we have it, we must put it in the end zone.”
Cavre gazed at each of the Hackers in turn. “This is no ordinary game, but you are no ordinary players. I am proud to have served as your captain. Now, let’s kick some ass!”
“Go Hackers!” the players shouted in response.
The Hackers trotted out to their positions. Dunk showed Lügner where to stand, in a spot just ahead of his own and t
o one side. While Pegleg had parlayed with Khorne, Lügner had borrowed a suit of armour from a fallen Hacker and donned it with Dirk’s help. Spinne had done the same.
“You do this for a living?” Lügner asked, a worried smile on his face. “I thought I raised you better than that.”
“Mother raised us,” said Dunk.
“Right,” Lügner said. Dunk noticed his hands shaking.
“It’s okay, Father,” Dunk said. “We’ll get through this.”
Lügner tried to smile. “You’re a good son, Dunk.”
“Hey,” Dirk said from a few yards away, “what about me?”
“Your problem,” said Dunk, “is you’re too much of a suck-up.”
Dirk stalked over and pulled both his brother and their father into a quick embrace. “It’s good to be back in business with you two,” he said before jogging back to his position.
Spinne, who had the spot in front of Dunk and opposite Lügner, turned and blew Dunk a kiss through her helmet. “See you after the game,” she said.
Then Bool blew the whistle, and Cavre signalled for the Hackers to get ready. The crowd watched in silence, too terrified to bother with their long-standing traditions.
Cavre laid into the ball, and it sailed far down the field. He led the charge after it, with the Hackers running in his wake.
The ball tumbled into Skragger’s hand, and the blitzer spurred his new body into action. M’Grash headed straight for him, while Edgar hung back a bit, hoping to intercept any pass the All-Star captain might attempt.
Dunk raced along behind his father. He appreciated his father’s valiant offer to take the field with his sons, but he knew he didn’t have the experience they did. If he got into trouble, Dunk wanted to be able to help him.
Of course, taking the ball and winning the game ranked far more important than Lügner’s life. After all, if the Hackers failed to manage those things, far more people than Dunk’s father would suffer.
Still, Dunk kept an eye on Lügner anyhow.
M’Grash roared as he slammed into Skragger, and the All-Star captain bellowed in response. The noise echoed throughout the stadium, and the fans screamed, although whether in terror or excitement Dunk could not say.
A sleek skaven raced through the Hackers, hunting for a clear part of the field so he could get open for a pass. Lügner charged at the rat-man, whose eyes glowed red, just like those of the rest of the All-Stars.
“While K’Thragsh mixes it up with Skragger near the All-Stars’ end zone, Morty Maus makes a break for daylight near the other end of the field,” Bob said. “Morty is new to the All-Stars this year, having been drafted to fill the shoes of his cousin, Macky, the All-Stars’ captain who was killed in a game against the Hackers in last year’s Spike! Magazine Tournament.”
“Amazing! How can you say all that without taking a breath?” Jim asked.
“I don’t breathe at all!” the vampire said.
Morty seemed faster than Dunk remembered him. He moved with a surety the rookie hadn’t shown earlier in the game, and he showed no signs of exerting himself, despite sprinting up the field at top speed.
Lügner threw himself at the skaven, and Morty stiff-armed him for his trouble. Lügner fell back as if he’d hit a brick wall, and lay there, unmoving.
Dunk knew he was the only player standing between Morty and the end zone. He couldn’t stop to check on his father. He had to concentrate on the skaven.
As Dunk closed with Morty, he looked into the skaven’s eyes, which glowed red under his helmet. Right then, Dunk knew that Morty wasn’t there any more. Just as Khorne had taken over Ichorbod’s frame, a lesser daemon had possessed Morty’s body and made him stronger and faster than ever.
At the last instant, Dunk dived under Morty’s outstretched claw and slid along the Astrogranite at the creature, lashing out at him with his feet. The move surprised the skaven, who failed to even attempt to leap over Dunk’s legs.
Morty tripped over Dunk at full speed and cartwheeled into the ground. The impact knocked off his helmet, and Dunk heard the telltale, sickening sound of at least one of the skaven’s limbs snapping.
The Hacker thrower rolled to his feet and looked back to where he’d been. His father was already standing up, and staggering towards the next All-Star coming at him.
“Lower your shoulder!” Dunk shouted at him. “If you stand straight up, they’ll just—”
Dunk cut himself off when he spotted the ball arcing out over the field at him. Skragger had clearly meant the throw for Morty, but with the skaven down and possibly even out, Dunk had a clear shot at it. He leapt up into the air and felt the ball bend back his fingers and then stick between then.
Dunk hauled the ball down and landed in a crouch. When he did, he saw the bear-bodied All-Star slam into Lügner. Dunk’s father either hadn’t heard his son’s advice or hadn’t bothered to heed it. When the All-Star hit him, he’d not only been standing up, but he’d been backpedalling to get in front of his opponent.
Lügner went flying backward and landed near Dunk’s feet.
Dunk wanted to help his father, but he couldn’t just hand the ball over to the All-Stars. He scanned downfield and couldn’t find a single Hacker open for a pass.
Cavre had become embroiled in a mass pile-up in the centre of the field. He couldn’t possibly break free in time.
Spinne had managed to get past the jam in the middle of the field, but Kathula was covering her like a blanket. Dunk didn’t even know if Spinne could see through the tentacles the squid-headed woman was waving in her face.
Dunk thought about tucking the ball under his arm and making a run for it. Chances were good he’d get stuck in the middle, just like Cavre, though, and it would mean leaving his father to the tender mercies of the bear-bodied All-Star, and another who’d just broken out of the mess: Lehrer.
The sight of his family’s former servant made the decision for Dunk. He cocked his arm back and fired the football off like a bullet. It skated over the heads of the players in the scrum and angled straight for Spinne, but when she reached up for it, it kept on going. It was far too high for her or Kathula to catch. In the end, it disappeared into the stands, where the fans swallowed it behind their bodies.
“It looks like the Hoffnung family reunion is about to be over!” Jim said. “Bik Dutkus is about to lay a bear-style body slam on the senior Hoffnung’s chest.”
“I’ve seen Dutkus burst open chests with that move before. It’s a real heartbreaker!”
Dunk charged forward just as the bear-bodied All-Star raised his arms and leapt from his feet, aiming to land flat atop the stunned Lügner, and put a quick end to his short career. Dunk hit Dutkus right in the ribs as he came down, knocking him clear of his fallen father.
“What a hit!” Bob said. “The last time I saw someone get knocked around like that was when I had dinner at your house last Friday, Jim!”
“My baby girl’s usually much more gentle than that with our guests, I swear!”
As Dunk scrambled to his feet, he noticed where Dutkus had sliced open Lügner’s exposed forearm, splattering blood everywhere. Before he had the time to wonder why, Lehrer came at him.
Dunk took his own advice and bent low and came up under his old teacher’s attack. He shoved his forearm up under Lehrer’s helmet and hit him with everything he had.
Lehrer’s helmet went flying off, leaving his head still attached to his shoulders, and the man flipped over onto his back. Dunk piled on top of him, determined to finish him off as fast as he could, before Dutkus could recover and kill Lügner.
“Good hit, kid,” Lehrer said. “I taught you well.”
Dunk didn’t say a thing. He just laid into the man with his fists, smashing his spiked gauntlets into his face. After three solid blows, the fight flushed out of Lehrer, and he went limp.
Dunk grabbed the old man by the top of his breastplate so he could get in a good, solid hit. Then he cocked back his arm for the killing blow.
Dunk hesitated. He’d wanted to kill Lehrer for months, but faced with the chance to do it with his bare hands, he found it hard to follow through. Killing other players on the field was one thing. It was all part of his job. But to kill the man who’d taught him to fight, who’d raised him as much as his father had — maybe more — gave him pause, no matter how much Lehrer deserved it.
“Go ahead, kid,” Lehrer said. “I got it coming.”
Dunk realised that the old man hadn’t been possessed like the other All-Stars. He’d joined the team after the daemons had taken over the roster — which meant he’d taken up with them of his own free will.
Dunk shook his head. As he did, he spotted Dutkus getting to his feet. If he wanted to kill Lehrer, it had to be right now. Even so, it might take too long and doom Lügner to death at the bear-man’s claws.
Dunk let the old man drop to the ground. “This isn’t over,” he said as he charged Dutkus again.
This time, the bear-man stood ready for Dunk. This wasn’t some old man who’d never suited up for a game before. Dutkus had played Blood Bowl for years — a lifetime for an All-Stars lineman — and Dunk’s last hit had driven him — and the daemon inside him — furious.
Dunk lowered his shoulder and rammed straight into Dutkus’ chest. Too late, he realised that this had been exactly what the All-Star had wanted him to do.
Dutkus wrapped his arms around Dunk and managed to keep his feet. With the strength of the daemon possessing him, the bear-man worked Dunk up against him and started to squeeze, forcing the air from his lungs.
Dunk tried to break free, but Dutkus had pulled him from his feet to prevent him from getting any leverage at all. The bear-man’s embrace proved impossible to shrug off. The only thing left to do was to head-butt the bear-man, but his helmet kept him too well protected. Dunk’s efforts only bounced off Dutkus’ faceguard.
For a moment, Dunk hoped that his own breastplate would protect him from suffocating. If Dutkus couldn’t squeeze him any further, he’d get tired eventually, and then Dunk could make his move.
[Blood Bowl 03] - Death Match Page 27
