A Mecca Of Mould Is Discovered…

Aristotle Agyrazkodas zipped up the moribund  yellow Hazmat attire as he saw the

Venomstream Barracks off in the distance which officially serves as “Home Rotten

Home” for the regiment known as the 313th Nurgle Brigadiers that is essentially

looking to eclipse the St. Mahlbuerne Pioneers and gain entry to the MML Challenge

League. Hulking doors of decaying wood on rusted wrought iron hinges stood before

him as his knuckles failed to register any noticeable noise, but it was approximately

a couple of minutes until a Rotter with a slip of paper pinned to his jersey saying

“I. Ziro” peeped his bandaged head through the gap and welcomed him inside with

a curling motion of his disgusting digits. The Rotter was silent during the making of

their pathway to the pitch filled with a veil of circling winged vermin, but sunlight

broke out and in his view was a Nurgle team wearing the identical colours  of the

St. Mahlbuerne Pioneers. He took a quick count of the players and saw that there

was the Beast Of Nurgle, a trio of Nurgle Warriors or “War Mongers” as they referred

 to themselves as, three Pestigors flipping a pigskin between them peacefully in a

corner then maybe four Rotters swaying back and forth in a huddle that looked like

not much was being produced. All the players had the same pieces of paper with a

hastily scrawled name on them for it appeared that he walked in on a preseason

practice and perched himself in the bleachers to watch intently…     

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