Okay, so I have been a bit wrapped up in Blood Bowl. It's a game you will either love or hate. But on a whim I made a team out of goblins, the weakest players in the game. So far we haven't done too bad and I thought I would sort of create a log of their defeats and minor victories. I picked Underworld because there is nothing more random than mutations and I felt that they could possibly do more than a normal goblin team. This is pretty much for fun, tossing in a little laughs as well as mark the development of the team. I honestly seem to have more fun detailing the struggles of my little teams than playing the game for real, I am considering setting up a similar log for some of my other teams who are built more for fun than competition, most notably the Doomhoofs and the Warfrogs, but only the future and random chance will say if I ever decide to stop being lazy and do so. Though i admit the Stunty League is a heavy allure with all the different gobo teams to pull from, perhaps they might get similar logs as well, but for now I will stick to Nuffle's chosen/cursed spawn.

If you are interested in peeking in on the gobos or possibly challenging them to a skillpoint feast the roster can be found here: https://fumbbl.com/p/team?team_id=762037



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Game 1: This was a good day. The Blood Bowl team created under the name of holy Nuffle has gone smoothly. With two lost games and only one death between them, our god smiles on us surely. I should however start at the beginning. My name is Pennywise and this is a log of my time leading the poor sods who have banned together under Lord Nuffle's banner. We banned together, exiles from our own people due to physical handicaps or just odd strings of bad luck that seemed to stick to some goblins like the plague. I didn't want to be a leader, certainly not a leader of a sorry lot like this. However leadership was thrust down on me when the death of Unfavorable Ulrich left us demoralized and waiting for the slaughter at the claws of a very nasty looking team of undead. I did my best to rally the troops and what I saw...it gave me hope. Brave goblins all banding together to fight the good fight, one heroic little scamp managed to dodge a blow from a monstrous flesh golem and then kick the dim creature over. In the fervor I didn't watch my back and was jumped by a horrible werewolf, no doubt looking to open up a hole in our swiss-cheese line for the ghoul who was carrying the game-ball. I felt something flow threw me in that moment, complete and utter random chance gave me the strength to push the wolf off me and then break him over my knee. Since then the other goblins have been calling me 'High Priest Pennywise'. Perhaps I did feel the divine power of Nuffle that day, I know better than to try and rely on it, he is as quick to kick his followers in the crotch as he is to cause Trolls to ignore matches and watch butterflies. Speaking of trolls... The team managed to con one of the local troll dock workers into helping out the team. In the game of Blood Bowl trolls are infamous for their deviating abilities, both to cause damage and flat out ignore the pleas of their teammates. As followers of Nuffle, we see trolls as his avatars and could not bare to leave one off our ranks. The dock worker's name was Noof, soon to be called 'Noof Avatar of Nuffle' and he lives up to his horrible title. In our first game Noof displayed his abilities, crushing a poor zombie with frightening ease, afterwards he spent most of the match chasing us around and demanding his share of daily grog. The match ended two to none in favor of our foes. It was a good game, we were determined to not give up a single inch and made a real fight of it...or the best fight any half blind goblin could. We bid our bitter undead comrades a farewell, letting them keep Ulrich's body to do whatever those undead types do, managed to get a little money out of the deal as well.

Game 2: Our second game was far less smooth, against a team of pharaohs who had grown bored of their tombs and decided to play Blood Bowl with the living. We gobos must have a certain scent about us because no sooner had we patched ourselves up from the match with the undead, these sandy bones decided they wanted a match. Well, skeletons were brittle and broke easy so we were looking forwards to something along the lines of our first touch-down. Or at least no deaths. Thankfully we did manage to succeed in a fashion. Noofs once again proved Nuffle's mocking laughter and crushed a line-skeletons before challenging the mummies to a game of cards. They continued to beat him over the head but Noofs was determined to try and win some money off them. Perhaps we picked a bad troll... The pharaohs proved to be easier to break than the more fleshy undead, no miracles happened other than no goblin was seriously wounded. It seemed like they were having a hard enough time catching us at all. While the boys kept them busy, Sweaty Palms Percy and I tossed the ball back and forth, getting a bit of training in before the sand-dwellers broke through and screamed bloody murder about how annoying we goblins were. Easiest race to kill? Maybe. But you have to catch us first. Through our training I managed to improve my speed and Percy was graced by the light of Nuffle, his body changing and contorting, when the mutation was over Percy had a nasty looking drill-claw-thing for a left arm. As I understand it, mutant claws rip right through armor, making anyone facing them have the same chances as...well...a poor goblin. I don't know what chances Percy has of surviving with his brand new mutation, I pray for his safety and those of all my comrades. The game itself was rather uneventful, they scored two touchdowns and seemed to be unable to catch us. These games are much less hassle after you start pretending to be dead, they just leave you alone, which we took full advantage of. After all, who wants to be the guy who got sent off the field for fouling a goblin? Well, after this match I thought we should go get something to drink and celibate, the other teams sort of looked at us funny since our losing streak was starting to get around, but forget them. We get paid either way and the grog will flow just as much after a win as a loss, if I have any say in the matter.

Game 3: We had been doing so well, I guess I was a bit cocky to spit in the eye of the dwarf coach when we were enjoying our little party. It cost us the life of Blind Bob, sod never saw it coming which was quite a feat considering he was pushed half way around the field before being brought down. Dwarves are a strong and uncaring race, our tricks meant very little to them, unlike the clumsy undead we faced matches before. Nine goblins including myself were smashed against the grinding machine that was the dwarf team, we will miss the next game and I wonder how bad the next match will be with no Pennywise to lead them. It didn't help that our apothecary was busy taking care of a gobo who just barely got tapped, instead of tending to poor Bob. He will be missed. No one could cook young dwarves quite like he could. Possible motive? The other races seem so strange at times that I can never tell what minor thing might set them off. Not much else to say here, my arm was broken half way through the match and passed out, my fellows tell me that it just continued to spiral from there. Oh well, so much for our progress. Back to square one. As for Noofs, he had more fun juggling the dwarves than trying to punch them. Such is the will of Nuffle. As a last bit of luck, we managed to convince one of the local goblin janitors to join our cause, a rather mopey soul named Deaf Danny who didn't seem to care if he lived or died, a good trait for our little growing group. The next match will be joined by a few temps, forced to help us out since over half the team are out on their asses, said gobs are going right on the front lines until they give in to the will of Nuffle as we have. Luck be with them and us.