The announcer raised his arms and pointed to a dark corner of the stadium. “FIRST! PLEASE JOIN ME IN WELCOMING THE HOME TEAM! THE FRESH FACE OF HITBALL. IF YOU TRY TO KNOCK THEM DOWN, THEY’LL ALWAYS BOUNCE BACK WITH A SPRING IN THEIR STEP. THE TREE SPRINGLEAFS!”
The Tree side of the arena erupted in cheering and waving, a few dwarfesses raising their beards and fluttering them over the railings in a completely scandalous display.
I held a hand over Jeremiah’s eyes. “Don’t look, Jeremiah! How could I possibly tell Annie that her pa was ogling younger beards!”
Jeremiah swatted my hand away. “Ach. I can’t understand how the clan hasn’t censured you yet. I’ll need to bring it up at the next grumble. ‘Pete needs to shut his damn mouth sometime.’”
“Oooh, good idea!” Balin nodded. “Even if it only lasts for a day it’ll be worth it.”
“Traitor!” I growled.
As the Springleafs trotted onto the field, they took up a position at the halfway line, and began stretching, waving to the crowd, and hopping from foot to foot to psyche themselves up. They wore red and green uniforms over thick leather armour, with a green leaf pattern snaking through it. They were, of course, nearly all dwarves, though there were a few dwelves mixed in.
“Who are you all cheering for?” I asked.
“Kinshasa.” Jeremiah and Balin immediately said.
“Oh, nobody. I don’t really like taking sides. I just enjoy the spectacle.” Val said, shrugging.
We all looked at Kirk, who whistled nonchalantly while lifting his usual white silk button-up shirt to reveal a red and green undershirt.
“Now who’s the traitorous – !” Balin began, but was drowned out as the announcer spoke again.
“NOW ANNOUNCING, THE AWAY TEAM. TERROR OF THE DEEP SHALE, THE TWENTY TIME CHAMPEENS OF HITBALL, HERE TO DEFEND THEIR TITLE, THE KINSHASA SHALESHARKS!”
The Kinshasa team trotted out one at a time to raucous cheers and various signage being lifted and swung about with fervour. The Shalesharks wore black and silver leather armour with a shark tooth pattern, and bright silver helmets. A shaleshark had been printed on the back of their helmets, its mouth wide and ready to bite.
While the Shalesharks had no elves on the team, there was a single burly human with a positively gigantic beard. It was quite the hairy sight, a giant bushy black hipster thing at least the full height of a dwarf. Quite a few dwarfesses were clamoring after him, and I saw a few younger ladies faint dead away when he flicked his beard at the crowd.
Jeremiah and Balin both rose to their feet with the rest of the Kinshasa side and joined in the cheering. Val and I gave each other twin winks, then rose to cheer as well. Kirk remained seated.
The two teams moved into position as several more referees moved onto the field. The Springleaf’s pitcher was a tall and stunningly pretty dwelfess, and she limbered up as the batter stood before the wicket and took a few practice swings. Her uniform number was 12, and the name on the back read ‘Ava’.
The batter was a swarthy dwarf who swung his bat more like a battleaxe. He held the bat up in a home-run pose – which wasn’t actually a thing in Hitball – then waggled his butt at the catcher to raucous laughter. His number was 15 and the name on his back was, of course, ‘Mcbatter’.
“AND NOW! LET’S! PLAY! BALL!!!” The head referee called.
Ava immediately spun and pitched. She must have activated an Ability, as the ball actually disappeared as it flew.
Mcbatter sneered and called, “[Unerring Swing]!” His bat glowed briefly and then arced around in a blur, connecting with a crack with the invisible ball.
The Kinshasa team cheered as the ball arced to the far end of the field, but beside me Balin groaned.
“Was that bad? He hit the ball.” I said as the batter tossed his bat aside and began dashing forward.
“Bah,” Balin snorted. “He shoulda let it go. [Invisible Toss] recharges about once a minute, but [Unerring Swing] won’t be up fer another hour. Shoulda just blocked the wicket, but he didn’t want ta miss tha’ first pitch. Aaron’s Arse, it’s just bloody showmanship, and it could cost ‘em tha’ game.”
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“I don’t think so,” Jeremiah shook his head. “Mcbatter is one of the best in the league right now, and he knows what he’s doing. They’re the away team, so I think he wants to get an early lead. Get the blood pumping. Look!”
As the Springleaf outfielders chased after the ball, Mcbatter’s teammates fell into place beside him. They rocketed forward in a V formation, their legs churning. At the same time, the dwarf in the lead began to glow silver, and his footsteps sank deeper into the turf.
“[IRON CHARGE]!” Jeremiah shouted, along with many others in the stand.
The Springleafs hadn’t been idle however. They’d formed a semicircle with Ava at fore. When the V hit their center, they split apart, surrounding the Shaleshark squad and doing their best to rip the formation apart from the edges. Poor Ava went flying as the front Shaleshark plowed into her like a freight wagon, but she bounced right back up.
Unfortunately, try as they might, the Springleafs were unable to get at Mcbatter, who managed to touch the wicket in the chaos. Then the scrum spun around and headed back.
“Two runs for first play!!!” Balin shouted excitedly, his earlier misgivings forgotten. “Do it!”
This time, the Springleaf team put a little spring in their steps, heh, and jumped over the flying V. They landed on top of the scrum and began pounding their fists trying to get into the formation. Ava landed directly on top of Mcbatter and the two tusseled for a breathtaking few seconds.
At which point the ball, propelled by an outfielder, arrived in a gentle arc over the melee. Ava jumped up, caught it, and pitched it directly into Mcbatter’s helmet. It clanged off with a resounding GOOONG! and the refs called an out.
“Argh! It was goin’ so well!” Balin groaned.
“Bah. Greedy. Should’ve gone for a spread eagle on the way back. The Springleaf’s vertical is the best in the league.” Jeremiah grouched.
“Mhm,” Kirk said, smugly. Two angry beady glares shot back at him in return.
I settled into my seat as the play went back and forth. The Springleafs caught up, got ahead, then fell behind again. The Shalesharks took a penalty for too many consecutive Ability uses. The Springleafs had an injury, and subbed a fresh dwarfess.
It really was a mix of rugby and cricket. I had to wonder if it was invented by another one of the Chosen a long time ago, or if it had evolved organically from children’s play.
It certainly wasn’t hockey, or wrestling, but it was still pretty fun to watch. Especially as Balin and Jeremiah and Kirk got more and more heated.
And just like that, it was half time, the score 8 to 7 for the Shalesharks
We were treated to the sight of the traditional half-time-toss, as the crowd tossed friends and family out onto the field. Dwarves arced in very un-graceful arcs to land in the turf and then skid across the grass. It soon turned into a competition for both height and distance. There was a cheer on both sides when a group of dwelves on the Tree side managed to bowl one of their mates all the way into a wicket.
A gnomish hawker walked by selling kettle corn. I considered the beer I’d smuggled in, and decided it could use some grease. “Oy! You!” I pointed at the hawker and then pointed at all of us. “One for each of us!”
He counted and nodded. “Righto! Four silver!”
I was affronted. “Four silver! That’s highway robbery!”
“Whuzzat? Take it or leave it, no haggling!”
I growled and tossed him four silver. “Bah. Take yer ill gotten gold.”
He threw a wad of bags at me and I snatched them out of the air and began distributing them to Balin, Jeremiah, Kirk, and Val. “One, two, three, four. Oy! You missed one!” I waved at the hawker. “I said one each!”
“I heard you! One each! Four!”
“There’s five of us here, you dolt!”
“Hah? You pregnant then? Eating for two? Haw!” The gnome laughed uproariously, slapping his thigh. Another bench called for popcorn and the hawker walked off, waving off my attempts to catch his attention.
“That jerk!” I grumped, my vision briefly turning red. “What’s his deal!”
“Ah. Maybe not,” Val interjected as I made to stand. “It’s my fault, sorry.”
Balin, Jeremiah, and I gave him a confused look, and he sighed.
“He can’t actually see me,” Val explained, as though that explained anything.
Balin reached over and poked him. “You feel like you’re there. Yer usin’ an Ability of some sort, then? An evolved or Specialised form of [Nothingness]? Why??”
I frowned. I’d had bad experiences with ninjas and evolved [Nothingness]. “Why would you be doing that? You aren’t wanted or anything, are you?” I shot Kirk a pointed look.
Kirk hastily denied my accusation. “Nah, I wouldn't do that to you bossman. You want to talk about it now, Val?”
Val nodded. “Good a time as ever. You are correct, Balin. I’m an advanced Specialization of a [Blank], from Yearn and Midna. My Specialization is [Otherworldly Invisible Man]. I don’t want certain… elements to know that I’m meeting with you. Hence doing this at a hitball game.”
“Oy!” Balin went for his weapon, then did a double take when he realized he didn’t have one on him. “[Blanks] are illegal!”
Val shrugged. “Only in Crack, and a few other countries and states, though for very good reason. I have some pretty mean Abilities for turning off Titles and removing memories. But that’s not why I chose it, or why I approached you.”
It only took me a second. And I didn’t even need to use [Flash of Insight]. My breath sucked in. “Otherworldly!”
Val nodded. “That’s right. I’m the Chosen Catalyst of Yearn. And I need your help, Pete, to prevent a massacre.”