Rootshine is the veteran Storm Vermin of the team. Nobody really knows why the always sombre rat took up Blood Bowl, since he seems to ignore his not insignificant fanbase. According to one theory he is just a violent, antisocial bastard who loves the smell of blood on grass, and that does seem likely in the light of his tendency to go that extra yard to crack a jaw or smash some ribs. However, he dows seem to have the team spirit to assist a mate who has a better angle for inflicting damage, and never claims the casualty as his own. Sometimes he burns with such unnatural and unselfish zeal for the team that bad tongues speak of a secret failure he seeks to atone to the head coach, a grizzled and injured war veteran. He has recently begun to take care of the personal training of Canemind, the younger Storm Vermin of the team, and is giving him private lessons. His reasons for this are unclear, as it has no effect on himself, either financially or otherwise, and Rootshine seems to lack the scheming mindset that is so characteristic of Skaven. Maybe the coach has something to do with this...

Canemind is a promising young Blitzer for the Waterdown Splithshades. He got into the profession for one reason only: girls. Well, money, too, but mostly the girls. He hopes to score himself a harem of female fans, from which he could pick the ones with the straightest teeth and the shiniest fur to keep him company. That's probably the only way he can ever hope to score - off the field, that is. He hasn't got the social skills, scheming mind, slight paranoia and financial intuition to make it big in the rough world underground and thus attract a mate the conventional way, so being good at sports is his last resort. Dreaming of better days yet to come, Canemind has taken lessons from the more experienced Storm Vermin, Rootshine. His trust for the older rat began with necessity, but he now thinks of the veteran Vermin sort of as a grumpy, quiet uncle. But what Canemind lacks in experience, he makes up for in youthful energy and speed. He is noticeably faster than the average Storm Vermin. After his heroic, buzzing performance against Dansc's elven team Dragon Heart, he was sighted partying his three casualties with his young female fans... and it seems he can't get enough!

After suffering a crippling hip injury Dealclean felt his dreams of a bright career, early retirement and fat life slipping away. Even as he lay on the blood stained bed of the infirmary, his teammates tormented him with blame and spite. He never made a full recovery, and now plays under constant pressure to excel. Dealclean is waiting for a chance to show he still has something to give for the team, but fears that once the Waterdown Splishades start raking in the dough, he will be the first to go. He is maniacally trying to please the coach, Roadage, and the rest of the team by making daring, even foolish dashes deep into the enemy end zone to get a chance to show his skills. Fat chance: he has become the semi-official bitch of the team, and the one player without a single fan.

The touchdown champ of the team, Roadage is a proud and haughty little vermin. He used to work as a lowly errand boy for a wildly paranoid Grey Seer, and had learned to run fast, both on the business of, and away from, his master. Required by his master to figure out himself who to trust and who to go to for services, often on an errand that needed closure in a very limited time, he walked a daily razor's edge of calm desicions in limited time. These aspects of his life honed his speed, quickness and wit to such a level that he was paid a large sum in gold to join the Waterdown Splitshades, where he instantly became a top scorer. The fame and riches spoiled his mind, and he became a manic entertainer, training his speed to its utmost to please the masses and have them cheer for him. Secretly, he harbors resentment against Rootshine, who seems to effortlessly steal the spotlight with a crunching block and not even notice. He has also gotten a taste of power by subduing Dealclean, the slower Gutter Runner of the team, and does not intend to stop there. With investments growing in the underworld of the underground, he is growing to be a dangerous player both on and off the field.

Off the pitch, Armchoice leads a quiet life, and even on it, he seems to like running from responsibilities. This has, however, spawned an unusual talent for getting rid of the ball, specially if it would hinder his attempts to dodge an oncoming block, and throw it to the nearest free player. Of course, when the match begins, he takes care to be the first one to touch the ball, and passes it neatly to somebdy else, after which he can spend the rest of the rush quietly assisting easy blocks, holding the rear end of a formation, and generally keeping out of harm's way. The coach has noticed this behavior, and has given Armchoice direct orders to engage the opponent head-on more often or his wage will be lowered. Trying to look like a good rat, he does as he's told, but behind the curtains he is scheming to fulfill his plan: save enough gold to buy a bar in a quiet cave-tunnel somewhere and live a quiet life with his wife and eight kids. Quite possibly Armchoice is the only player on the team with pure motives.

Borderhalf has had the questionable honour of being on the line of scrimmage in almost every game he has been available for. He doesn't complain, though: he needs his wages to keep his head above the water, as his debtors are both numerous and eager to sink him in the gutter permanently. With the desperate moves of a rat who fears failure to rake in the gold pieces more than injury on the pitch, he rises above and beyond the call of the linerat. He has developed a talent for staying up even after concussions and blocks that would have sent lesser rats into the turf, and has even managed a casualty. He might go far in terms of fans, but his main concern is staying alive, and playing Blood Bowl is certainly more comfortable and less dangerous than facing his debtors empty-handed.