Game 4: Badly hurt a rookie goblin, smashed another one's collar bone but got his skull fractured by a chainsaw afterwards...

Background:

Throweck was left abandoned from birth. Found and raised by Orcs, he grew up learning their garbled language and unfortunate habits and transforming them into something beautiful. He knew he was different. The pale skin, hair, charming features, walking upright without slumped shoulders did not fit. He knew it was time to leave when the cry of 'WAAAAAARRRGH!' did nothing.

Now an adult he travelled far and wide looking for similar beings to himself. Eventually, possibly fatefully, he happened across Archibold Manigence's school of etiquette. Here he was able to be himself, learning the ways of a true gentleman. After many years of hard studying he was a true gentleman. He had mastered the art of courtship, witty repertoire and clipping fine cigars. Alas, something was still missing.

It was again fate, that on a hot summers eve, a band of travelling Blood Bowl passed his establishment. This game, he had heard, was rather obscure and filled with ruffians and scallywags. This team looked different. Somewhat refined with their glorious moustaches and smartened attire.

Throweck's eyes caught theirs and an immediate bond was made. This...this is the place he needs to be. And so it came to be that Throweck joined the gentlemanly team to be an up and coming blitzer in a dangerous game.

(Thanks to to Throweck for this story!)