A large, burly, stupid man who claimed to know magic, the Mystic Mongol found little work in the armies of the Old Empire. Frustrated, he swore allegiance to the god Nuffle, only to find the vast majority of coaches thought him a useless piece of dead weight. He finally got a position in the Altdorf Alcoholics, but only as a warm body to be stuck in front of the enemy. No matter... maybe he'll make something of himself yet. Or get a single niggling injury and be ejected from yet another industry.