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The youngest son of a minor noble family of Wissenland, Aimar was the problem child of the family. He drank, gambled, and bedded servants. Well, so did most of his brothers! But Aimar was never very good at it: he tried to act with fashionable nonchalance, but came across as pompous; he tried to enjoy fine wines, but confused Brettonian whites with Averheim roses, and would end the night throwing-up loudly to the amusement of the guests. The servants he slept with fleeced him for all he was worth and his incompetence between the sheets is legendry at the second table.
And then Countess Emanuelle - friend to the family - stepped in. Before he knew what was happening, Aimar was throwing a ball around in the pouring rain and getting beaten-up by his female team mates in the blood bowl field. But no-one is a better judge of the male character than Emanuelle, and Aimar soon found that not only did he quite like 'roughing it with the smelly oiks', but that he is actually rather good at blood bowl. All that praying and meditation is not a bad little caper either - almost like it says something about jolly old life itself, old chap.