PART I - SPORTSBALL AND HOTDOGS
Callie found the mess tent devoid of anyone. Even if she had missed lunch, there should have at least been some of Pama’s Goblin staff cleaning up, yet it was simply deserted. Eventually, though, she found a wooden sign hanging on a pole with an arrow pointing up the hill towards the training grounds. In the distance, she heard the sound of occasional excited cheering. Shrugging, Callie walked up the hill, deftly avoiding a few patches of still-wet mud.
Looking skyward, Callie could see it was likely to rain again soon, as a large black cloud was passing overhead, making things slightly gloomy. But a patch of bright light appeared to be coming behind it, so that was at least something to look forward to. Callie hoped she could find some shelter before the drizzle started, though.
Arriving at the top of the hill, Callie immediately saw the cause of all the cheering. The bleacher seats were almost completely filled. Not just with recruits, but officers, trainers and staff were sitting as well, or many also standing, all watching what appeared to be a game of some kind being played on the field in front of them. A huge awning had been stretched over the seats to protect from the occasional rain, as well as the bright sun when it peeked out. Overhead, there were a pair of large birds circling slowly, seeming to keep an eye on everything.
Another cheer went up, with several in the seats rising in excitement, only for there to be a collective groan followed immediately by the sound of a whistle on the field. The mutual mumble continued as most sat, waiting in anticipation for what was likely to be more action shortly.
Callie pushed her way forward through a couple people standing in the way, and looked out over the field. What she saw reminded her immediately of American football, as she saw two teams lining up in a formation facing each other. There was a short whistle and a dirt-covered Beastkin she didn’t recognize from behind fell back, holding a round ball in one hand which she quickly threw to another. The new carrier ran a few steps before passing to a mud-covered Catkin, who ran a short distance of her own before tossing the ball off to someone else. That new receiver promptly dropped it, though, and a whistle shrieked out, ending the play. The two teams casually assembled again, with the ball placed on the ground roughly where the Catkin had made her failed pass.
Far off, Callie heard the sound of someone yelling her name, and scanned the seats for its source. Towards the top, she saw Jesca waving to her, with the others’ recognizable faces sitting close by. Pixyl’s blue hair was an additional beacon as she stood on her bench watching the game, and Tazrok’s huge form loomed behind everyone, his enormous smile easily seen even from this distance. Smiling herself, Callie left the sideline and made her way towards her friends.
Partway up the bleachers, people started to rise again in excitement, and Callie turned just in time to see the ball being thrown long. The intended target looked to be an Elf standing just outside what could best be described as a hemispheric endzone. He leaped high for the ball, catching it, only to be promptly tackled as soon as his feet hit the ground by a player protecting the goal. Everyone on the field was covered in mud, so it was hard to tell who was who. Around Callie, there was a collective ‘oooooo’ sound from the fans as everyone once again settled back into their seats with the play over.
From the field, a double whistle sounded, and one of the circling birds dove to the field, changing shape into Bratig. The Elf receiver was slow to sit up, covered in mud, smiling, but favoring his shoulder. Bratig seemed to give him a quick dose of healing magic before both stood, the Elf jogging off the field while being replaced by an already mud-covered Major Celeste, of all people. With a wobble of magic, Bratig’s Blood Owl form flew back into the sky, evidently returning to an overhead healing patrol.
Jesca called again, and quickly Callie regained her direction, climbing the way to her and the rest of Ogre House. The group had been joined by Ambria and the Tigerkin twins, as well as Juniper, who was sitting contentedly next to Vanis. Next to the Dryad was Loki, who was quietly tying his vine-like arms together into knots and then untying them, seeming a little bored, but otherwise behaving.
“Looks like a fun game,” Callie said absently as she sidled into a spot. “What’s it called?”
Before she could get a response, a whistle on the field sounded, and Callie stood on her seat to get a good view. Once again the quarterback, for lack of a better word, had stepped back before running to her right. She passed the ball again, a mud-covered Major Celeste catching it before she, in turn, tossed it underhanded to another Elf that was standing in the endzone. He caught the easy pass, ducked around the goalie trying to tackle him, and pushed the ball through a small, flat wall with a hole in it. Immediately, two-thirds of the audience cheered as several whistles shrilled out from the field, halting play. Around Callie, the nearby recruits seem to deflate in disappointment.
Smiling wider, the excitement of the crowd slightly infectious, Callie once again asked, “So what’s this called?”
“Bunkerball,” Jesca, Pixyl and the twins said in unison.
“Cool.” Callie said with genuine interest. “So how does it work? The rules, that is. And who’s playing?”
“One team is made up of officers and trainers, while the other is recruits,” Lena snarled. “The recruits are really awful.”
As Callie watched, the two sides lined up again, and though partially covered in mud, Callie could clearly see Koda playing the part of what could be called the center. He hadn’t been on the field for very long, and was cleaner than the rest, although not likely to remain so. He snapped the ball, and Wallir stepped back, looking for someone to throw to. He finally saw an opening and threw the ball. Whoever his target was didn’t get a chance to catch it though, the pass was way off target and lazily intercepted. It was thrown across the field to Celeste, who then spun and threw the ball hard, right between two upright poles attached to either side of the wood with the hole in it. Cheers and groans went up all around.
“How does he throw so poorly?” Xin exclaimed, placing her clawed hands on top of her head in exasperation. “He said he knew how to play this game, did he not?”
“He probably just played it as a kid, Xin,” Lena said, trying to defend Wallir.
“So, the goal is to get the ball in the hole?” Callie asked, trying to figure out what was going on.
“Yes,” Vanis said absently, still watching the field. “Or put it between the poles above it. The hole is worth three points and going over and through the gate is worth one. If you throw the ball through the hole from outside the bunker, it’s worth seven. That’s more difficult, obviously.”
At each end of the field was an identical wooden board, almost like a sheet of plywood, standing perhaps three meters wide and two tall, with a hole in it about one meter in diameter. The poles extended above the wall on either side, about two or three meters, marking off a field goal-like opening.
The teams lined up, the recruit team once again in possession, and one could see Wallir was increasingly nervous.
“How bad is it?” Callie asked, afraid of what the damage might be.
“We’re d-d-down by twenty-five points,” Pixyl hissed. “We stink!” She gestured towards a scoreboard, which showed a score of 28-3.
“Ooof,” Callie said with a sympathetic wince. “I see what you mean.”
Wallir blew a whistle and Koda snapped the ball into Wallir’s hands. The Druid first ran to his left, then had to scramble to his right as two broke the line and chased after him, intent on bringing him down into the mud. The Elf barely got the throw off, and it was thrown high, Kaisess barely managing to jump and grab it. With a look of surprise on his face, the Ranger turned, and started running, focused on the end of the field. After several steps, though, a whistle screeched, and what had to be a referee, wearing a bright yellow shirt, pointed to a spot on the ground where the Tigerkin had stepped, making a hand signal. Groans went up all around as the teams reoriented themselves, the ball now set on the spot marked by the ref.
“What happened?”
“You can only take six steps before you have to throw it to someone,” Jesca sighed. “Once he took seven, the charge ended.”
On the field, Kaisess seemed to be trying to apologize to the rest of his team, and an ever-smiling Koda gave him a heavy pat on the back, sending mud spraying and the Tigerkin staggering slightly. Someone else ruffled his head, further getting it full of mud, the mood obviously light despite his running mistake.
Before the next play could start, though, a bell sounded. The excitement in the crowd diminished as the muddy players relaxed and walked off the field.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“Game over?” Callie wondered aloud.
“Just a break between battles,” Vanis said, rising to stretch. “Ten minutes or so.”
Callie used the moment to take a good look at the layout of the field. It was shaped roughly like an oval, with an obvious goal on either end marked off with a white curved line about five meters out from the scoring board, which must represent the ‘bunker’ Vanis spoke of. Centerfield, on each side, was a similarly marked bunker area. White lines also marked off the field at the mid point, and then again halfway to each goal. If she had to guess, the entire field was maybe eighty meters long and about forty wide in the center, gradually narrowing to about twenty at each end.
“Okay, we have a break. Tell me what this game is and how it works,” Callie more-insistently asked as she turned to her friends.
“It’s called Bunkerball,” Jesca said, almost absently. “Like Vanis said, you need to get the ball through the hole or through the gate above it.”
“And you have to pass to each other to get it down the field?” Callie asked. “Since nobody can take more than six steps, right?”
“The team’s Sergeant ,” Lena interjected, “that’s the one that starts with the ball, can move as much as they want as long as they don’t go past the front, which is the point where the ball starts. Actually, anyone can if the Sergeant hands the ball off to someone else behind the front. You get five charges to get it down the field. Five attempts, that is.”
“But, if you get to one of the bunkers on either side…” Koka started to say.
“...it resets the number of charges you have,” Moka completed.
Callie quickly started to draw some analogies to Earth sports. The Sergeant was basically a quarterback. Charges were downs, but you got five instead of four, and the ‘front’ was the line of scrimmage. All of that made fairly simple sense so far.
“Usually the charge ends when the ball touches the ground, or the person carrying it goes out of bounds or is brought down,” Jesca continued. “If it was dropped from a pass, it goes back to where the person that threw it was. Of course, if someone can’t count, and they take more than six steps, that will do it, too.”
“That all seems pretty straight forward,” Callie said with a nod.
Growing up, Callie’s family had not really cared about sports very much. If one of the local teams made it to the playoffs, her parents might watch the games on television with other friends or the guys in her dad’s band, but nobody was very invested in the outcomes.
Honestly, Callie spent her youth thinking ‘sportsball’ was dumb and paid it no mind. When she got to college, though, one of the girls on her dorm floor was a huge football fanatic. Her perspective changed Callie’s, excitedly describing the game as a ‘cross between chess and chaos theory.’ It took a few clarifications, but then Callie finally saw what she found so fascinating. There was serious strategy in the game at both the level of the individual plays, as well as things like time and down management. That was the chess part. Yet, all of those plans would go out the window the moment the ball was snapped, because really anything could happen at that point, which brought in the chaos. After that, Callie had a newfound appreciation for some team sports, or at least for football. She still didn’t care one iota who was playing or who won, and had no interest in participating, but she did come to enjoy spectating and even the math surrounding the plays and statistics involved. The idea of random chaos being part of the game was oddly fascinating, too.
“Nine people on each side, right?” Callie said, having counted.
“You always have an odd number in the Vanguard,” Lena said, “which is the line of people at the front, sometimes as high as eleven on the bigger teams. Then there is one team Sergeant and one Sentinel at each end. You can bring your Sentinel up to the Vanguard, too, but that will leave you without that last line of defense, so you only do that if you are desperate.”
“What about using skills?” Callie asked.
“Not allowed,” Vanis responded quickly. “Some are instinctive, like your Dodge, but anything you consciously use is not permitted. You get one warning and then you can be ejected from the game.”
“I guess that makes sense,” Callie said with a nod. She looked around, seeing how excited the crowd was. “I sense everybody watches this game?”
“It’s quite popular in the cities,” Lena said with a nod. “There are even professional teams, too. When I was young I would play the game with the other kids in the group home.”
Jesca nodded. “When I was a cub, we would play all the time out in the fields; just make teams and have fun until it would get too dark to play.”
“I take it there are no small people playing, right? They’d probably get squished.”
“Too little,” Tazrok said. “Ogres too big, too.”
“Yeah, I’m afraid it’s only normal sizes,” Lena said apologetically. “ Dwarves may play, but not many, since they can’t run very fast. Mostly they are on the Vanguard to help block if they do play. There are a couple Fairies on the professional teams, though, but they have to wear special armor to encase their wings. In the capitals, there are also some teams that are all Ogres that only play against each other. Those games can get quite rough, as you can imagine.”
“The Druid is a very terrible Sergeant. I am going to go tell him how to throw,” Xin snarled, still glaring down on the field. “He is very very bad at it!” she reiterated for good measure.
“Xin?” Lena said as the Lizardkin stormed past. “Wait, you don’t want to be too mean to him. It’s just a game.”
“And the goal of any game is to win,” the Shaman snapped. “To do that, he must know how to throw. I will show him!”
“Oh my,” Lena said quietly as Xin stormed her way down the bleacher seats. “I’m … I’m going to make sure she doesn’t say something she regrets. She’s been quite angry at Wallir this entire battle.” Quickly, Lena raced after her housemate.
Jesca looked nervous watching Xin and Lena run off. “I think Xin is going to make a scene,” she whispered. “When it comes to this game, she’s really competitive. She’s been yelling ever since we got here.”
Callie chuckled at the thought of Xin being a rabid sportsball fan, having never really seen her get angry or even that animated about anything. Normally, the Lizardkin was very even-tempered, albeit often awkward with her direct observations. It was nice to see another side of her.
A rumble in her stomach reminded Callie it was past lunchtime, and she hadn’t had breakfast, either. “Is there any food? I saw the sign at the mess tent sending everyone up here and I’m starving.”
Jesca nodded. “Uh huh! They have food over there. We wanted to wait for you.” She gestured towards a small, temporary, open-walled tent. There was a bit of a line, but the sun had come out again, and the rain was letting up, so it wouldn’t be that bad. “I’m hungry, too, so I’ll go with you.” Turning to Vanis and the others, she asked, “What does everyone else want?”
“Am good,” Tazrok mumbled as he stretched his gigantic arms. “Must fly heal in fourth battle. Don’t want full belly.”
“If it’s not too much trouble, one of those mushroom sandwiches would be lovely,” Vanis said. Juniper gave him a quick poke in the side, nodding her head. “Two, that is.”
“One of those v-v-veggie flat-things for me,” Pixyl added, holding her hands in a circle to indicate what it apparently looked like.
“Let me come along,” Ambria said, rising from her seat. She gestured towards Koka and Moka. “I guess I’ll get something for us, too.”
Weaving their way through the milling groups of recruits and others, Callie couldn’t help but feel an immediate connection with Earth. It felt like a simple picnic day with a game for everyone to watch, and seemed a perfect bookend to the first week of training and the start of the next. Though sunny for the moment, even the promise of occasional drizzling rain couldn’t seem to put a damper on things, because the air was warm and the sun felt wonderful once it peeked out between the clouds.
As they took a spot at the back of the food line, Callie saw Pama and her Goblins racing around, taking and fulfilling orders inside the tent. Above the line were three pictures showing what was available. The first showed bread with a big mushroom on it. The second was less like a flatbread and looked more like a tortilla wrap, filled with leafy greens. The final picture made Callie’s heart leap. It was a sausage, inside a bun. It was a hot dog! Or at least whatever this world called it, and it immediately reminded her of home. A hot dog! At the ball game! This was simply perfect!
“You must more than just throw the ball and hope,” a sour voice called out. “You must also be accurate and follow through!” Callie and the others turned to see a quite animated Xin demonstrating a throwing technique like she was an angry high-school coach pointing out something obvious.
“Yeah, I know,” Wallir sighed back to Xin. “But all I said is that I’ve thrown a Bunkerball before. I told you all I wasn’t any good.”
“Be better,” Xin snapped in return. “Like this!” She snatched the ball out of Wallir’s hand, spun and threw it towards the end zone bunker about twenty meters away. She whirled back to Wallir, the ball still in the air and said, “That is how you must throw to win the game.”
Everyone watched as in seeming slow-motion, the ball passed easily through the hole, almost perfectly centered. As one, the nine players turned their gaze back to Xin.
“Do that again,” Koda said blankly, absently taking another ball from a Wolfkin’s paws. He forcefully pushed it into Xin’s claws and then gestured towards the bunker.
“It is not hard at all,” Xin said to the Bearkin. “Even a child can throw where I come from!” With that, Xin spun, winding up for a fast throw. The ball flew from her hand, the sound of whooshing wind coming from it, as it once again passed perfectly through the hole.
There was a long pause as everyone digested what they had seen.
His grin getting even wider than normal, Koda reached out and grabbed Xin’s shoulders. “Congratulations, girl, you are now our Sergeant.” The Paladin looked at Wallir, who actually had a look of relief on his face. “Sorry, you’re out.”
“Fine with me!” Wallir responded, raising his hands to remove the whistle from his neck. He quickly dropped it over Xin’s head, metaphorically washing his hands of the whole affair.
“What?” Xin gasped, a look of confusion on her face. “I did not come down here to play. I was only demonstrating…”
“Sorry, my dear, you’ve been drafted,” Koda said, slapping Xin’s back, a spray of mud flying from his arm.
“Serves you right,” Lena said with a giggle. “I told you to just relax and enjoy the game.”
Xin shot a glare of annoyance at the Bladedancer but slowly, a grin almost as large as Koda’s started to form on her face. “Then you will play, too!”
Lena’s sudden ‘oh shit, what have I done’ look was absolutely priceless.