Pappas same old bag!

The old chair was snug. The toxicity of the air reassuringly familiar.

 

Home.

 

The old office was as he left it. Momentos scattered liberally around, a wee bit of dust over most of them. A charred bench sat in the corner, a remnant of the Power Hours previous stadium, the corpse of Dino Chicken, a mouldy bandage covered in blood formerly of the parish of Dead Metal, a tail from the Rhino the super skink of Dino Rock amongst many others…

 

The call had grown strong over previous seasons as the insidious whisper of Pappa Nurgle grew to a crescendo, accompanied by the link that he had with the others… he had known now was the time. They came from all over the Blood Bowl lands… Bernie, the prodigal rotter, restored to Pappas embrace as he rejoined the MML. Vpower fresh from his experiments with the community of fang town. Rand the old servant, who had been ploughing his lone furrow welcomed them all back just as he had begun to give up hope.

 

The horsemen were back. With that rejoining came the usual wailing that they had come to expect from the rest of the community. This only served to reassure them that this was the right time to spread the genuine words of the plague and to do away with the unsightly gleam that accompanied some heinous teams. They called themselves the Coalition of the Clean. This amused the horsemen immensely, their originality could not be doubted. It was always nice to have a foe… it’s nice to be loved. It was time to distribute some hugs.

 

As the league schedule plopped from the plaguepipe, Thunden read it with interest. Some mighty teams for the return of the Widowmakers to league action. The Power Hour in the 2nd week, The Fun Sized Punchers and the Soon to be Dones… all great teams that would challenge the Widowmakers in their rebuilding season. They had recruited in Lord Melchett to replace the old guard who had gone the way of all things and entered Grandpas garden, Terrorvision and Ash would be missed. First up would be Versimilitude. Coach Bort of Warpig and the Pork Attack fame, this would be no easy return to the league. Plans must be drawn up, he could hear Pappa extolling him to use the experience he had had coaching the dirty elves and the resistable humans of the Rose. Could he get this team back in shape to make a challenge worthy of the Plague Lord? Doubts persisted.

 

Just then a rotter shambled into view… no ordinary rotter this. Kardel!!!!! The championship rotter from the Nation guttered a greeting and dropped a beautifully filthy parchment on the blistered desk. Thunden read it. He smiled… now… now perhaps there was a chance.

 

RIDE!!!!!

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