ABBL BLOODBOWL

   The Norsca gods are never fickle: they are always spiteful, obstinate and cruel.

   The Bludheim Ravens made their voyage back to their home city, clutching silver medals and toasting two fallen comrades (three if you count them literally toasting The Notorious P.I.G. into some porky snacks for the long journey back). But this didn’t satisfy the gods.

   It was a mere two days into the voyage that the Norse linemen started to feel…different. They lost their appetite and their skin-colour turned from a pasty white to an even-pastier green. By day four, old battle scars were starting to split open and the odd finger or nose would fall off.

   The two Ulfwerener became thinner and more wolf-like. Turning from large powerful manbeasts into lithe, clawed wolfmen. The berserkers, Mad Cnut and Bjorn the Enraged, became so angry one day they literally exploded. Rather than fire and smoke, their spirits lived on as pure, spectral rage. And smoke.

   Worse were the Valkyries. Demi-gods unable to die natural deaths, instead slowly transformed into flesh-eating ghouls, luckily retaining their same speed and nimbleness, but forgetting much of the finer points of the game.

   Suffice to say, when the Ravens ship re-docked at the port they had only left a week ago, this wasn’t the biggest shock that greeted the dockhands and porters. The Ravens have been denied a place into Valhalla by their gods and the only way they can break this curse, is to win some form of cup competition...