Belial of the Tiger

After their last, disastrous battle, Belial rounds on his leader.
“What do you mean ‘they won fair and square’?”
Vorland, with the look of an old wolf, ready to die, simply sighs.
“We did our best and they slaughtered us. What else is there to say?”
Mastema and Azazel don’t even bother to look up.
“We didn’t lose because they were better than us. We lost because of your poor leadership!”
Vorland merely shrugs.
“Perhaps you’re right, but what does it matter now?”
Belial sticks his bottom lip out.
“We were too cocky. We were so busy talking trash and shagging each other, that we didn’t bother to train. We weren’t hungry enough.”
Vorland lets his head fall again. “Look, we’re out. If you want to carry on fine, but you’ll need to find a new team. A more balanced team that can’t all be taken down by the same opponent.”
Standing up, Belial ponders his erstwhile leader's comment for a moment... “I think I may know exactly the right people.”