/tg/ takes the field

Matt looked around, disturbed by the familiar but different setting he found himself in. Tall, lanky and naked he strode forward in an in-between space. He knew it had a name, Rand or Min would have known but it felt familiar to him. Like home. Tel'aran'rhiod he mouthed to himself, unsure of where the word had arisen from in his mind. He walked forward in this misty scene, there was no shadow anywhere but instead the world seemed grey. Indistinct. As he stepped forward he felt less foggy, the world felt less foggy and he started to see more shapes, other men striding forward thru the mists.

The men were of all shapes and sizes, Tall hulking humanoids bigger then an ogier and in wild blue and red colours, Men taller then Matt which he did not approve of and smaller figures. Scowling, skulking and mad carried on. They were all walking towards the same place, for the same purpose. It was not the beginning Matt knew , but a beginning. As he thought that the sound of dice came rattling round his skull, loud and plain and obnoxious. The sound of multiple dice bouncing off each other and a hard leather cup , a wooden table, the smell of cheap beer and sweat and money came back to Matt. He wondered if there was a game where he was going.

The other men started talking to themselves and matt. "Where are we?" was common, a few in strange thick accents mumbled out "Ihs his het wharp himpooer Prohtecht" and others were more easy to hear if not understand. A Madman with a crazy look in his eyes faced Matt for a moment before shouting "YE BEST NOT NAE TAKEN ME WEE MEN YOU BLIGHT BASTARDS". Matt spat back a few curses himself before a few of the men laughed and no one seemed in a rush to get into a scrap. Which was good because the biggest figures were over 20 foot tall and most certainly some kind of blightspawn. The men keep walking forward and could begin to see a bright light ahead of them, a ways off.

The light seemed to make things more real and the mist was rapidly burning away. They found their regalia, garish purple clothes with stitched with a light white fabric around the borders and hems. It was expensive material , if ugly. Matt found he was wearing some sort of light slipper but it was surprisingly comfortable. No one seemed to upset at the appearance of clothes or the disappearance of the fog. The realness that was approaching was reassuring and those figures that seemed 20 foot tall now merely seemed to be a sort of exceptionally tall men.

As Matt strode forward he whistled a tune and the others joined him. Their footsteps grew in sync and they all knew they were there for a purpose, together to accomplish something. A game or perhaps war? Matt was familiar with both and he felt like all of the men besides him were as well. As they approached the light the team burst out in song in languages Matt had never heard of before. He could hear the crowd before him, past the light and he picked up a ball, a rugged leather thing that might have been a child's prized possession.

"Soccer" he thought to himself, letting the whistle die from lips as music could be heard from in front of them "ZEROONEONEONE ZEROONEONEONE" was chanted so loudly from ahead of them but matt knew no choir was waiting for him. The men could see other groups, men different but alike, all heading in the same direction. Some would not arrive for a while yet but each one was paired. "Gladiatorial Games" Matt thought and his scowled. He never liked being someone's pawn or game piece but he looked down at the ball again and changed his mind "It's a beautiful game after all" he said smiling as the brave defenders took the field. Their names came into focus in his mind, Tankred he who endures. Doomrider named for the doom of his foes, Aiden "Asspull" Pride a capable leader and warrior. More names followed and knowledge of this beautiful game. "A bit like war after all" Matt joked snidely and the team joined him. The laugh of professional soldiers.

A garish theme song boomed out of things called loudspeakers and the crowd was a frenzy of action. Matt hummed the last few bars of Jak o' the shadows as the ref went to flip the coin and begin this war. They were ready, heroes from a dozen worlds, to win or die trying for their dark masters in that crowd of fury. Matt stepped into his position of left center midfielder and he cursed again "bloody hell. The dice in his head, the incessant rattling, had stopped. A phrase in the old tongue came to his tongue. "Alea Jacta est " The Die is cast!