“Timaris Stormwing, former adventurer and explorer of the Old World, needed some time to clear his head and reflect upon recent events. Since the time he'd established a bloodbowl team only a few years ago so many things had changed. It was all a cover for his more mysterious endeavors, of course. But a rather entertaining cover for that matter. Taking up the role as headcoach of his own team certainly hadn't made his life simpler either. At least it allowed him to travel the known world and gather some rare items he'd been looking for since ages.

But what occupied his mind right now, was the mediocre performance of his team – Modryn's Midnight Meddlers – last summer in the CabalVision Inter-regional Blood Bowl League. Things had gone rather well in spring, resulting in the team winning Athel Loren's regional championship. But luck had been lacking in summer, that much was clear. The first game, against Coven of the Mirrored Hall, turned into a nightmare. Despite leading 1-0 at halftime – the wizard's fireball proved essential here – and receiving in the second half, the elves somehow managed to mess it all up. For a long while the possibility for 2-0 was very high, until the ball was lost and before anyone realized the Coven had equalized. Special attention went into the preparation of a one-turn touchdown, because all was not yet lost. Timaris couldn't get it out of his head. “What in Nuffle's name had happened there?”. There was no answer to be found to this mystery. The positioning went well, but the final pass went out of bounds and was thrown back in by the crowd, halfway the Meddlers' empty backfield. The opposing Changeling tossed a familiar towards it, who picked it up and ran it into the endzone. Not 2-1, but rather 1-2. A poor start of the season indeed. At least no one noticed how Timaris managed to recover the corpse of the dead familiar that had been left on the field once the game ended. “At least the game hadn't been a total waste of energy after all”, Timaris considered...”