Mogrin is one of two flesh golems created to serve the ZETU International thing. Mogrin fancies himself a warrior-poet, but due to an oversight in shipping he never got his vocal cords. Now he tries to turn Blood Bowl into a performance art.

Every weekend Mogrin and Cresecent's Edge to to poetry slams or art shows. The former tends to end with the two killing Mogrin's hecklers and the latter ends with a stern suggestion that maybe Mogrin shouldn't go public with his works.

Ligrim is the older 'brother' of Mogrin, which he feels makes him entitled to rip off Mogrin's limbs every now and again as an absolutely hilarious prank.

Mogrin is not nearly as amused.

21-07-08: Gained the Dodge skill

Waning Claws was brought onto the ZETU International team when he broke up a practice by assaulting Barry the zombie. After being explained to that, no, Barry was not a giant strip of bacon he apologized. Loving his ferocity, the organizing necromancer drafted him.

Barry is still a little wary and Waning Claws is not completely convinced he's not made of bacon.

Crescent's Edge is a disillusioned scholar. He always figured that with his doctorate in English he'd be a famous writer or a literary analyst or anything else.

Instead he has to join the ruffians beat people to death to make end's meet. The pay's good, but he just always imagined he'd be doing more. Every weekend he takes Mogrin out for a poetry slam or art show just to keep from going on a murderous rampage.

Richard is incredibly wealthy. Fabulously wealthy. Purchase your entire town and demolish it wealthy. And he's doing everything in his power to be famous for being so wealthy. At one of his I'm So Rich™ parties he was introduced to Gilford who convinced him that being undead was the new hip thing.

Gilford lied, but Richard to this day still doesn't believe that. Denial can last centuries.

Jason was your average joe. He worked just enough to keep his job, went to a lot of Blood Bowl games, drank a lot, and regularly beat his wife.

His wife, however, wasn't so average. She used her connections to a necromancer to get Jason transformed into a zombie and dragged onto a Blood Bowl team. While he loves the game, he doesn't love that most of his paycheck goes to pay alimony and legal expenses.

William was absolutely convinced that he was a mighty nordic warrior. However, his obscenely high weight and decidedly not-nordic origin always thwarted his dreams of joining a raiding band of Norsemen. Luckily for William that one of his drunken bar fights was with Derrick the zombie, leading him into a life of zombieism.

And undeath has been wonderful for his weight, making slim and muscular. He regularly goes on talk shows, speaks at public events, and has written numerous books advocating the 'Undead Diet'.

Robert used to be a farmer. A dirt farmer. Not the most glamorous jobs, and given that he farmed his dirt in the least nutrient rich region, not the most useful of jobs. Still, he some how managed to make it by on what he made selling his dirt.

He later discovered, after a taste testing to see just what it was that convinced people that his dirt was worth buying, that his land made people into zombies. After his undeath the necromancer he used to supply drafted him onto the team. He now regularly hangs out with William and Derrick at the bars, letting his new team of zombies run his dirt plantation.

Barry is the team's whipping boy. Waning Claws regularly rips off a piece of Barry every time he becomes convinced that the poor zombie's made of pork. When ever Crescent's Edge and Mogrin take him down to an art show to get him 'some culture' he ends up being part of Mogrin's performance piece. If Jason's in a bad mood, Barry takes the punishment. When Gilford and Richard want to remind themselves they're nobles, it's Barry who has to crawl around like a horse. And when William, Derrick, and Robert need to smuggle mead into the game they store the bottles in his chest.

If Barry wasn't such a brown noser, he might actually be friends with some one.

Derrick is a professional drunk. Before Blood Bowl he made his money drinking other people under the table. If there was alcohol in it, he not only would drink it he would drink it until he, medically speaking, should have died. His sheer alcohol tolerance earned him both the admiration of drunken idiots and enough money to buy his daily bread (or daily pretzels).

One night he was in a drinking contest when he downed a mug of tainted mead. After the painful undying process he got up and proceeded to drink the new zombie under the table. To him, undeath has just been an excuse to fill his body with even more alcohol than before.