Aristotle Agyrazkodas slouched in a cantankerous state replaying the seasons of St.
Mahlbuerne Pioneers Blood Bowl in the tranquillity of his Mattaki Mitsuji Metroplex
office and of the undelivered promises which “Wurlitzer” Czechkowski made of triumphs
and accolades that come with life on the Astrogranite. Ruminating retrospectively, he
thought of those years where a positively putrid Nurgle squad ruled the Mattaki Mitsuji
Memorial Blood Bowl League, despite never being the top ranked team based on W-D-L,
yet miraculously managed to sweep a trio of championships away from the dominant
Wood Elf, Dwarf and Skaven collectives. It was at this very point in time that he decided
to embark on a trip to investigate the possibility of rising through the ranks towards
glory and raising Hell along the way “Papa Nurgle Style”. He summoned the translation
services of a wizened mage who knew of the Chaotic dialects and locked up the offices
for there was a trek ahead of him and one which would hopefully be bountiful in rewards.