The smell of sweat and blood nearly overpowered Neil's senses in the brawl, and though he was stronger than he looked, the men around him were combat trained and used to intense physical warfare. He felt like he was knocked about a bit too much, and was just lucky enough to not get anything more than a glancing blow as of yet, but that would change sooner rather than later if the ball didn't get free. So using his monkey-like dexterity, instead of attacking the men head on, he decided to duck under the melee and trip the tribesmen up as best he could until he paved a way toward the ball. 

"Shit!" He cried when he saw a club aiming for him, and he dived downward. His head had escaped the club only to knock against the ball with a loud 'thunk.' To say he was light headed after the diving strike to his cranium was an understatement, but perhaps the Gods were watching, for the ball shot out and into the goal. 

The next thing Neil knew were rough hands grabbing him, dragging his limp body out of the dying quagmire and into the light. The pilot had a welt on his head and a very ill favored, near unconscious look. But he was alive, and the cheers erupted for both he and Sayeeda for their exceptional teamwork. He was too far off to see, but the servant woman was in awe at his Radifiri skills, biting her lip and gazing hungrily. However the celebration was not long lasting, as the men dragging him set him on his rump across the field with what was left of his team and Junebug, and a Shaman with the same manner of dress as Wetumpkah emerged, stalking across the field. His very presence demanded the game end and the tribesmen prostrating with respect.

"Who is that?" Neil asked tiredly, holding his head. 

The Shaman stalked up the central stairway of the Ziggarut, followed by three other Shamans in succession. Wetumpkah greeted them in the traditional manner, and quick words were exchanged. Pointing at the mountains, and at Neil and Sayeeda, there were gasps from the accompanying Shamans. Neil would have made a jibe at their popularity, but at the moment he would have rather a plasma gun incinerate his head.
[@Penny]