......The crowd roared with excitement as he ran, jumping over broken furry bodies of the Thaggoraki.The weather was grim that day. Heavy storm clouds covered the sun, only splitting for the occasional lightning. It didn’t matter to him. He couldn’t hear the thunders over the crowd’s chanting of his name, getting louder with each step he took. He quickly evaluated the situation. Storm-vermin to the right was getting kicked on the ground by his teammates, blood pouring from prolonged nose. He smiled at the sight. The rest of the opposing team was either dead, injured or knocked to the ground. His clan-brother ran close next to him to provide cover if necessary. There was nothing that could stop him from securing victory for his team. Nothing.
......And then the gutter runner caught up. Squeaky cry gave him a split second warning. ‘No time to hit back, have to protect the ball’ ran through his mind. “CATCH IT!” he shouted, passing the ball in the direction of his kin. Then, the skaven assassin hit him in the back and he fell. Before he hit his head and passed out, he saw the wet ball slip his brother’s grasp, hitting him hard in the head, little vermin grabbing it and sprinting for their end-zone….


......Mendri Morgrinsson sighed quietly. That was almost a month ago.
......He looked at the razor in his hand. It was trembling under the stern, unforgiving look of statue of Grimnir above him. Once, he had all he had dreamed of. Fame, fortune, glory and honour. He was a living legend. A walking embodiment of dwarven might. A titan amongst lesser players… A titan, taken down by a single skaven half his size.
......His hand stopped shaking
......After such a crushing defeat, there was only one thing he could do.
......As he started to cut his hair, he uttered his oaths in the ancient language of Khazalid. He spoke of his own failures, of how his team lost because of him, and how he inadvertently caused severe head trauma to his clan-brother. He spoke of wrongs done upon him, how his team fired him because of his injured back after the last match and how all his friends left him as the fame and fortune withered, and he asked for a chance for revenge. He proclaimed his grudge against all the Skaven for what they did to him. And finally, he took his oath, vowing to hunt powerful monsters wherever he might find them, purge them from this world if he can, or find heroic death in combat if he cannot.
......As he spoke the last words, he threw his hair into sacred fire. It was done. He was now a Slayer. An outcast.
......He looked to his right, where his brother Thyk was smiling happily. Mendri sighed again. The poor guy’s skull cracked open when the spiky ball hit it. Even before that Thyk wasn’t the sharpest chisel in the workshop. Now, he was downright stupid. Thyk the Thick, as he took to calling himself. At least he had his sense of humour left. Mendri was sorry to see him shave his head too, but he did fumble the critical catch, so there was no other way. Still, they had each other, and it was time to take all the monsters by storm!


......They sat down for ale in a small, dirty tavern near the temple. Ignoring the looks of everyone in the room, Mendri drank and thought about his vow. ‘Hunt monsters wherever he might find them’
......“Where the hell are we supposed to find monsters to kill!?” he shouted finally. “We’re Blood Bowl players! I don’t know where to go searching for trolls and dragons and Grimnir knows what else!”
......“Smash big guys!” exclaimed Thyk with a wide smile. “Smash them dead!”
......“Yeah yeah, I know we have to fight big monsters, but I don’t know where to start!” snapped Mendri angrily.
......Thyk didn’t seem to mind his attitude. Or anything else, for that matter. “Thyk smashed many big guy! Thyk smashed big tree even! Good fire wood. Thyk like fire. Makes meat roast.”
......Mendri looked at him with a combination of irritation and sorrow. “Yes Thyk, you did. But that was on the pitch. We’re not in the team anymore. We’re Slayers now. There’s nothing we can do about that.”
......“Make own team!”. Big smile.
......“What do you mean, make own team? You think it’s that simple?” Thyk gave him a happy, enthusiastic nod. “Alright genius, do it if it’s so simple! Get us a proper Blood Bowl team and we’ll search for our death on the pitch!”
......“At least it’ll keep you busy while I figure out where to go.” He added quietly while Thyk ran off, bellowing about “Smashing big guys, big money and big meats to roast”.


......He was woken by an earthquake. Wait. No. “Thyk, stop shaking me!”
......He looked up and around. There were empty tankards everywhere, and he discovered he was sleeping in the poodle the last one made when he knocked it over. There were pieces of food in his beard and his head hurt like he was kicked by a bullcentaur. And in the middle of this, his thick-headed brother was beaming at him happily.
......“We go smash big guys now?” He asked with the excitement of a puppy going for a walk
......“No Thyk, I haven’t figured out where to go yet.” he muttered while trying to go back to sleep.
......“We go smash big players now!” cried Thyk, now getting frustrated. His big brother was obviously even dumber than him. “Thyk maked team for us!”
......Mendri slowly raised his head again to look around. There were nine dwarves standing behind Thyk.
......“This Baragor, Cranneg, Lunn called Kvinn, Rorek, Kazgar, Brondra, Sigrid, Algrim and Dimrond” introduced Thyk the bunch proudly
......Mendri blinked, taken by surprise by Thyk’s name memory. He gazed upon the sorry lot before him, sighed and nodded slowly.
......“Listen Thyk. I asked for a proper team. You brought me a bunch of whiny alcoholics, including two women who I can’t tell apart from the men and a guy who, if I understood correctly, calls himself “The Lady”.
......“That right, Lunn called Kvinn!” Thyk was now literally bouncing with excitement.
......Mendri rubbed his eyes with new-found respect for Thyk’s stupidity, then took another, longer look at the so-called “team”.
......Those three short and fat ones were useless, he could tell right away. But they might serve as hitting bags for the opposing team, at least keep them busy. The two women even looked like they might actually be able to hit back.
......He had to admit, the Ladyboy, or whatever his name was, stood taller and slender than the rest. He might be good for the ball play. That whimpy looking one too, thought Mendri. The one smelling like booze and other, worse stuff had a bearing of a soldier, and the scruffy looking one even had a glimpse of intelligence in his eye, if such a thing was possible.
......He couldn’t help it, his years of experience kicked in and his instinct was telling him one thing: He could work with these sods.
......But then, misery overtook him again. “Look Thyk, I really appreciate your effort, but there’s no way any sensible league will allow this crowd to play. And why would they even want to help us?”
......“’Cause you’re the great Mendri Morgrinsson, that’s why!” screamed one of the fatties before he could contain himself.
......“Shut up, Cheerleader” snarled Scruffy Sharpeye, as Mendri decided to call him. He was never going to remember all their names anyway. “We can join the humie league to the south, in Tilea. Those buggers cheated me out of my gold, so I have a grudge to settle. And they are so corrupt they will let anyone play as long as they get their share of the winnings.”
......“We just wanna hit stuff” declared the women. Thyk rewarded them with a loving smile which they gladly returned.
......“This good lad told us of your woes, and we wish to assist you in your journey to woo death.” Mendri gave Ladyboy a dirty look. Stupid name, and now he tries to be stupidly poetic.
......Pushing back the urge to break his jaw, Mendri stood up. “Alright, that’s all very nice. But how do we get to fight monsters in a human league?”
......“They have orcs and skaven and marauders from the north playing as well” explained Scruffy “Plenty of monsters to kill there.” Mendri ground his teeth at the name of his sworn enemies.
......“Humies bad too, smash them Unbaraki!” roared Thyk angrily.
......“Yes…they can’t be trusted, you say?” asked Mendri, now thinking furiously.
......“Even less then elves” affirmed him Scruffy.
......“In that case, who knows…humans are weak and known to pact with the forces of Chaos…perhaps these do too. And if they do, it is our sworn duty to destroy them!”
......They all stood around him, hopeful looks on their faces. He looked each of them in the eye.
......“Very well. You, Ladyboy - how did you say it? We’re going to woo death? Then so be it. Henceforth, we shall be: Death-wooers.