“the Chariots race through the dead of night into the land of fog and gravestone. The scent of death and wet dog lingers in the air.

I know that scent. It is the smell of bloodbowl! Necromancer style!

With the dismount, the war banner is planted hard into the ground and the dead hear the call! Not only shapes from the grave...but the biggest baddest #$^%@W#$# werewolf twins I've ever seen. Perhaps they were werebears!

Game on!

Hail to Dread Scott who was onto himself, a whirlwind of DOOM! After the ball carrier is sacked and eating grass...Thy hands send the ball deep down to the field to Buccaneer. If not for the trip dodge, we could have won!

And to Buccaneer, thy light feet failed to bring victory, but the Eye of God blesses thee with 8 movement...glory awaits!

And lastly, the Lord of Luckers finishes learning his craft....dirty player

(cue dasterly laugh)

The wounded are gathered, and the lands of Necromanics are quickly found in the rear view mirror!”