** Unofficial Fan Fiction set in the world of Blood Bowl, Warhammer's Old World, the Empire of Man **
Benni and Moritz have set their hearts on making it in the Old World's most popular - and dangerous - sport. They only need to convince their over...
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He was so proud, so pleased, with his son. Everything he asked of him, he did without complaint. He asked plenty of questions, not all completely stupid, and that suggested that he was the kind of boy who wanted to learn, wanted to grow as a person, and it's hard to really teach that. There must be some kind of internal motivation. Despite how much he knew about the interior mechanisms of all manner of locks, clasps, latches, and traps (even a few watches), Felix had no clue what made people work. He knew the broad strokes about respiration, circulation, hydration, digestion, and reproduction, of course, but that was no different to looking at the workbench to see the disassembled parts of a Manticore 2020 trap chest and expecting a novice to be able to reassemble it safely without losing an arm.
The processes don't make the person, just as the parts don't determine the purpose of the object. But things had changed recently. It must have been about a week since that final and Moritz had had his time for being gloomy and moping about like those other teenage children did, dressing up like necromancers, growing their hair, painting their faces with chalk and black eyeliner, and listening to music backwards or whatever they did. Moritz had always been a happy boy and Felix was thrilled to see him full of joy now, despite his disappointment. What most pleased Felix though was that Moritz wasn't just an upbeat and good-hearted son but a man of his word. He had been issued with an ultimatum which some might have thought a touch harsh, even Manja had said so in private, but Moritz kept up his end of the deal and, after a day's grace, there he was by his father's side in the workshop. The Schrunk legacy would continue, and the locksmith trade could rest assured that the finest, well, one of the finest, names in locksmithing would prevail.
"Right, son, I think you're ready to move on to dual control combination locks. The Bank of Altdorf is one of our best customers..."
Moritz's bed was in its usual messy style and the fruity funk of a teenager's bedroom was anticipated but Felix did not expect to see the windowpane wide open with lace curtains twitching in a morning breeze.
"Love!" he yelled.
"Are we going to make it?"
"If you stop asking that same question, yes." Benni snapped. He gave the reins a firm flick and the two snorting, galloping beasts kept their pace.
"Can't be too far now, an hour or two."
"Darling, can you hear something?"
This was what Camilla always said when there could be somebody knocking on the door. Stefan did not believe her to be idle or lazy in any way. He knew her too well to make such an unfair assumption. But he knew that she did occasionally have delusions - no, that was too harsh, perhaps unfulfilled aspirations - of grandeur. And, as such, the lady of the manor should never permit herself to be called upon to execute such menial tasks as responding to an unexpected visitor at the front door. That was a job for those they employed for that purpose but, as they could not justify employing a butler or someone to meet, greet, and announce their guests, Stefan would have to fulfil that role. Camilla also did not like to be surprised by people; she preferred to know who would be where and when, so she had the opportunity to make a grand entrance or to appear poised and at ease when they entered.
