Player: "Steward! Steward! A moment, Sir! I would have a word!"
Referee: "I am here Sir...say what you will."
Player: "There shall be a report of a grave malady, Sir! Chicanery! Treachery most foul!"
Referee: "Indeed?"
Player: "I bring news of Gentlemanly Misconduct, Sir! The likes of which mayhap never seen before upon the Civilized Continent! I and my scholarly mates pay Good Coin to participate at your grounds of Manly Exertion and Good Companionship, Sir! I shall not be exposed to some conniving, black-hearted mendicant!"
Referee: "Peace, Sir. Your treatise on this supposed malady you feel you have suffered is indeed potent, but I still humbly await the crux of the matter at hand. I pray you gather your divinely bestowed dignity and deliver unto me the True purpose of your grievance."
Player: (Takes breath) "Indeed. I have come unto you in a fair state of agitation, I confess. I shall take a moment to compose myself."
Referee: "I wait in respectful silence. May I have a porter perhaps fetch you a glass of something? Page! Come here!"
Player: "No thank you, I have had my share of your lounge's hospitality and am quite full."
(At this point, opportunistic Player2 sees them and fires off a shot, which whizzes by their heads.)
Referee: "Hold! This man is in conversation with Myself that contains matters of critical importance, and for the moment shall be sacrosanct!"
Player2: "Oh, sorry. Wait, what?"
Referee: "My apologies. Youth, and its boundless enthusiasm..."
Player: "You have the right of it. Now then, prepare thyself: I was recently engaged with an opposing player over by that structure. The battle was long and drawn out, and required every inch of my perceptions and cunning. However in the end providence favored, and I scored a glancing hit upon my opponent's faceplate which should have caused him to retire!"
Referee: "Huzzah!"
Player: "However he did not, I tell you! The sphere broke near to his mask and announced my triumph with a dash of yellow coloring that I could see even from my moderate distance! Alas, as I turned my attention to other matters of logistical intrigue, the cursed poltroon reemerged once more and engaged me!"
Referee: "Surely not!"
Player: "I speak of the purity of my observations, Sir! When I turned once again to question the nature of my opponent's appearance, I noted with great shock and dismay that the marking had vanished from his viewing portal!"
Referee: "Alas, the severity of this moment is now upon me! It is almost too much for my intellects! All that we know is in chaos! Come, let us find the source of such discord, lest the earth be torn asunder from such desecration."
Player: (turning to face the area his opponent was last seen) "I shall have you, Pawn of the Adversary! All of creation is not large enough to spare you from my wrath, for I bring with me the unforgiving hand of swift justice!"
(A third player comes into the conversation)
Player3: "Excuse me."
Referee: "What is it?"
Player: "Aah!"
Player3: "I could not help but overhear your conversation and felt the necessity within me to attempt to bring the matter to greater clarity."
Referee: "To whom do I now address?"
Player3: "You now stand in the presence of 'Sickbag', Executive Officer of Team 'Flaming Frag'."
Player: "I know of you, Sickbag. Your deeds on the field are of notable legend and lore, widely studied by the wise and prudent."
(Sickbag gives a crisp bon mot)
Referee: "Sir, if you have some foothold to give us against this imminent upheaval I would hear of it now. Otherwise, I suggest you withdraw and prepare thy consciousness for a vicious scandal unknown to the discovered worlds."
Sickbag: " As I mentioned, I was nearby the very player you had engaged, Sir. My acute witnessing of the events transpiring was indeed part awe at the contest brought before me, but largely due to my ammunition supply expiring."
Referee: "Alas."
Sickbag: "Good Sirs, I stood in witness of the events transpired and I did indeed observe a strike against your opponent-"
Player: "Hah! Judgement is mine! The cur's very own allies have broken ranks and come forth to lay his neck down upon the altar of vindictive righteousness!"
Referee: "Be still a moment, O aggrieved one. I sense our new addition to the conversation draws breath to speak further...perhaps to cast illumination on this wretched turn of events that we find ourselves forced upon."
Sickbag: "-as I mentioned, I did see a marking appear upon his faceplate and then he did kneel and humbly ask me if the marking was considered a True Score, as he himself could not see past his own protection. Upon moving closer and measuring the area in question with a ten pence coin I keep for favor. I concluded that the impact was not enough to be considered mortal."
Player: "A Ten Pence!"
Referee: "By all the Gods man, are you certain! We stand upon the brink of Civil War to-day! I am poised to assert all my administrative power at hand and call down an unholy scourge upon its transgressor!"
Sickbag: "I am a Gentleman, Sirs. I come forward to stake my personal honor on the fact that my humble Ten Pence failed to cover the area of impact. The fellow it railed against insisted that I make absolutely certain of his honor being intact."
(The Referee is in deep thought, occasionally mumbling something under his breath.)
Referee: "Enough! Sickbag's testimony shall stand! With an insufficient amount of mark against him, the combatant would then wipe the fouling away from him and re-enter the struggle!"
Player: "By my mighty Beard, what have I done? I have almost set in motion events that would condemn an innocent, and create an unrepairable rift upon all that has been built here! Thank you, Sickbag, thank you! As for you, Good Steward, my actions embarrass me, and I shall withdraw from the field to ponder my actions under penance."
(Sickbag says nothing more other than to offer both his personal salute before turning away. The Referee and Player both turn to opposite directions and part.
At this point I'm standing in the middle of the field, dumbstruck at having witnessed the entire conversation on my helmet-cam. Naturally, a shot comes flying in to hit me square in the chest and explode.)
Player4 : "Hey Doc, what the hell, man? You're just standing out in the frickin' open like an idjit!"
