I often contemplated trying Skaven in the ranked divisions, but it wasn't until I came up with some fluff that I really got motivated. Now introducing the Ratkin of Near!

The city lies in ruins like many a city in Maldor, its name forgotten, its withered walls populated by rats only. Before the Sky Fire descended upon the world of Near and the Shadow Moon was born, the arena must have been a magnificent place and the site of many a spectacle. More than a century has passed since last the cries from ten thousand throats echoed within the great, bowl-shaped structure, now crumbled and overgrown. But today, a different sound fills the air like a warped ghost from the past. All over the ranks the furred little bodies spill, hundreds of thousands like a rodent sea, their tiny voices rising up like one, combining into an eerie, high-pitched wail that could make a man's heart stop cold.

Among their brethren the Ratkin mingle, tall as a human child of twelve years, walking erect with their furred bodies bent forward, balanced by the long, naked tail. They add their voices to the cacophony, cheering the departure of what is, to any man's knowledge, Near's first and only Blood Bowl team. In this very arena they were trained, until they were deemed ready to travel to a mysterious, far-away realm and compete in this strange game that most of the Ratkin, unaccustomed to the devious workings of human thought, will never truly comprehend. If the ball is so precious, why will you not run away with it, off the pitch, and hide it someplace? Why will you pass it to another player instead of keeping it to yourself? Why will you not come to the aid of your litter mates who are being slaughtered on the pitch, just because you have not been fielded at kick-off? And what on earth is the sense in these touchdown things?

Yet one concept the Ratkin understand, and that concept is dominance. Their young species, no older than the Shadow Moon, may claim dominion over some ruined cities left to rot by mankind. But at the same time, they are hunted like game by human headhunters out to claim the ransom which many a lord of Maldor offers. To them they are but animals, filthy vermin best extinguished. To prove what they can do, to prove that they are indeed a sentient species, as cunning and resourceful as any man, the Ratkin have set out to demonstrate that they are indeed better than man at man's own game.

This team is a tribute to Clinton R. Nixon's wonderful pen & paper role-playing game The Shadow of Yesterday. I highly recommend checking it out.

I bet there are a bunch of P&P vets among the Fumbblers! Perchance anyone who knows TSoY?