The Story So Far…

Mr Fillibutters puffed as he traversed the side of the steep hill known as the Pike. Ahead of him sat The Ogre, looking pensive, on a bench overlooking the town.

Fillibutters stopped, it wasn’t a good idea to get within reaching distance of an Ogre, he found, until you had assessed what sort of mood he was in.

“Y’reet” called out Fillibuster. The Ogre’s small beady eyes darted from the town to the Halfling, his brow remained furroughed and he growled “y’reet’ in acknowledgment.

“Sit’ growled the ogre nodding to the space on the bench next to him. Fillibuster breaking into a cold sweat slowly edged around the Ogres ample girth and gingerly sat next to him.

“The townsfolk are worried” started the Halfling, “been planning” growled the Ogre cutting him off abruptly “we’re going to play.”

“Play what” stammered the Halfling.

“The bootiful game.”

Surely not …

“Blood Bowl? Where on earth would we play Blood Bowl”

‘Down there between those pie shops, we’ll build a stadium” pointed the Ogre

The Halfling looked down at the veritable sea of Pie Shops. The one thing the town was not short of was a pie shop. Still, he found it best not to anger the Ogre and go with his strange whims.

“How are we going to play” said the Halfling, “we lack the block of the Dwarves, the grace and elegance of the elves, the sheer brutality of the Orks?”

The Ogre’s face lit up with enthusiasm ,“we use a Hot Pot Cannon”

Fillibutters stomach rumbled, he hadn’t had Brunch yet. The idea of firing Hotpot at people seemed a thoroughly good waste of a meal.

“Then I hit them, you fly…….”

“Err I hate to correct you but I am a Halfling, I can’t fly?”

“Oh, you will” growled The Ogre, “you’ll fly far”……

Mr Fillibuster gulped…..