The curious journey of how eleven dark elves found themselves toiling away, rather unsuccessfully, in the silver mines of Bonanza deep in the mountains of Colorado can all be traced back to the famous Dutch Cinnamon crash of 2347.
These seafaring dark elves of a sinister disposition were plying their trade of piracy on the open seas of the Pacific in their infamous galley, the Assassin’s Glare. The booming sea trade in Dutch Cinnamon sourced from the outer reaches of the Pacific on the Dragon Isles fuelled ever increasing levels of lucrative piracy on the open seas.
The Dutch Cinnamon crash of 2347 struck suddenly and without warning becalming the high seas, the burgeoning economy of the new world and along with it any and all side hustles including the nefarious activities of piracy. With no choice Mirhil, the Captain of the Assassin’s Glare, had to sell his galley for far less than it was worth to one of the notorious cinnamon merchants who had already grown fat and rich from hedging against the Dutch Cinnamon bubble.
Retreating to one of the seedier sea taverns on the docks of the bay of Frisco Mirhil and his crew cursed their luck and bad timing over a flagon of the dreadful swill of dwarf beer. The only one more miserable in the whole tavern was a wretched miserable dwarf.
Mirhil couldn’t stand dwarves at the best of times, never mind when he was down on his luck. Approaching the bar to order his final round of beers for the crew before they were set to disperse he challenged the dwarf, precariously perched on a tall bar stool, as to why he was so bloody miserable?! This would turn out to be a fateful conversation with this drunken mining engineer, Harfur Silversson…
Silversson regaled in his ill-fated luck to inherit from his estranged father a lucrative, but disused, silver mine in the mountains of Colorado in a backwater mining town known as Bonanza, but with no means to furnish the equipment he would need to extract such vast wealth. Lamenting that for just a few groats he could get the mine up and running and with his expertise in explosives could turn a tidy profit.
Mirhil, in part desperation, spotting an opportunity offered to fund the equipment if Silversson would teach them the dwarven ways of mining and share a half of the proceeds…
Nine months later covered in the soot of the mines and sweating from the heat of being under the earth Mirhil and his crew emerged from the mines blinking into the sunlight with breaking backs and cursing the fact they’d ever met Silversson. Almost the last of the funds from the Assassin’s Glare down the drain and not a hint of silver anywhere in the mines of Bonanza.
Silversson tossing an egg shaped ball around promised Mirhil success was just around the corner. Mirhil growled, “if you spent more time with your explosives than tossing that stupid ball, we might get somewhere. Why are you so obsessed with a child’s toy anyway?”
Harfur’s eyes lit up as he told of tales of the local dwarf Blood Bowl league and how spring training was set to start and he played the position of Troll Slayer for the Bonanza Buccaneers… Not only that there was prize money on offer, sponsored by Sigmundur, the wealthy gold mine owner from the valley over and a chance for the winning team to get an invitational into the MML Challenge League where there was big money to be made.
Grabbing the ball, swiftly, from the stumpy arms of the stupid dwarf, Mirhil tossed the ball effortlessly arcing in a tight spiral to land in the waiting arms of Galdmael some 50 yards away… he’d just discovered how he was going to make his money back – Mirhil played an expansive throwing game never seen before in these parts, sweeping away all those leaden footed dwarf teams before him. Taking the loot and the invitational the Denver Dynamos were on their way to the big time…