We travelled to meet the Evertonians on their turf and we sought to take revenge for the plundering of our army the campaign before.
300 men! 300 men we lost that fateful day on the plains of Goodison.
We wanted to avenge the blood of our fallen brethren, the knights swore to cut down the warrior Count of Catalonia – Roberto Martinez – and his men.
But, it was not to be…at least, not exactly as we’d planned...
Lord Per: Lord Nacho! Thou let-est Coleman away from thy sight! Cover! Cover!
Lord Chambers: Aaargh! This Coleman dude knock-eth off my sheild! Quick! Protect Lord Szczesny!
Lord Szczesny: Too late…I’ve been cut in the side!
Lord Ramsey: Aaargh! the Evertonian Naismith take-th a slice of my well-groomed beard!!! Thou shalt pay for this!
Duke Wenger: Knights! Regroup! Or the enemy shall make minced meat of us!
Lord Ozil: Hey, Duke Wenger, canst thou place me in another part of the battalion? I do hate fighting on the wings; I like-th to be right in the heat of the battle, right at the 10.
Lord Flamini: Duke, why place-th thee Lord Sanchez up in the front? He shalt struggle against the shields of the giant defenders of the Evertonians.
Duke Wenger: I shall place thee and mine knights any place I so choose-th. Lord Giroud, come up front for Lord Sanchez!
*grumble in the ranks*
And we sucked up our complaints and regrouped…
Lord Ramsey: Yaaaaaa!!! Take that Naismith! That’s for my beard, took me the whole summer to grow!
Lord Nacho: Lord Giroud, take mine sword and strike!
Lord Giroud: Yaaaa!!! Off with your beard Tim Howard! I will not tolerate any man trying to look prettier than myself!
And so we fought till the sun went down; and each side lost 200 men. When we saw that we could not prevail, both kingdoms put aside their swords…for now.
Baby Walcott: That was a wonderful story Papa, I pray the Duke and his knights triumph next time. When shall I see you in your shinning amour ready to do battle?
Lord Theo: Very soon son, very soon.
By the shores of the Black Sea, in a castle not far from Istanbul, treachery and scheming brewed….
Slaven Bilić: But we agreed to a truce my Sultan! It shall constitute a breach of trust if we attack them from behind!
Sultan of Istanbul: I pay thee bags of silver to tell me how I want mine wars to be fought?! Aye Slaven?
Slaven Bilić: Not at all Sultan. I only say that we gave the Duke Wenger of Ashburtonshire our word in a truce treaty not to stab them in the back. We did this when the army of Arsenalia came to Istanbul to fight; do you now say, oh grande Sultan, that we go back on our word? Surely, a king’s word is bond.
Sultan of Istanbul: In my case, it isn’t. The Arsenalians are infidels we must bring under our power; vanquishing them gives us a chance to rule all of Europia by entering the campaign of the Chalice Louise. Besides, I hear they have a lot of gold from the sale of the Puma cougars in their domain.
Slaven Bilić: So you say invade them?
Sultan of Istanbul: Yes.
Slaven Bilić: When?
Sultan of Istanbul: In two days.