Brutish, coarse and foul, Kastrakaa was moulded by his nomadic existence in the Chaos Wastes where humanity is a vice. Born of the Eastern Kurgan tribes he served his daemonic patrons with a passion after being banished for the murder of his elder brother and has been blessed so as no longer to physical resemble the man his soul abandoned long ago.

With the visage of a strange beast, a whipping barbed tongue and a crimson simian like tail, Kastrakaa also possesses legs of extraordinary strength allowing him to jump to amazing heights despite his formidable weight. The applications of this on the Blood Bowl pitch are stil being explored but it is hoped one day many a defence will be left confused, a red flash in the peripheral all that was left of the attacker they were once marking as Kastrakaa's tail whips skyward following its owner.


Training Goals

1.Prehensile tail

(1.)Leap

Lord Nuke is long used to the supplication of those around him. Once master of a city sized mound of floating rock on which his fortress was built Lord Nuke served Tzeentch well...but the god of magic is nothing if not capricous. Through a coup of brain melting proportions Nuke was overthrown as master of his realm by a simple thrall wizard: an insult Nuke will avenge with untold, excruciating cruelty when the time comes. Managing to escape He found himself pulled to the recruitment fields of the Changers and now plays the game of Blood Bowl to reclaim his lost wealth, hire a band of mercenaries and exact sweet vengance on the dregs that would seek to kick dirt in the face of their master.


Training Goals

1. Stand firm
2. Mighty blow

Originally from the lands beyond the World's Edge Mountains in far off Nippon, Phi-Zon-Ki was always popular and well liked. He was known for his fantastic sense of humour and energy, never failing to light up the room he would enter. Then he reached his 17th birthday. The fates were cruel to Phi-Zon-Ki, the stigmatism that resulted from that morning leading the young man to become shunned by his clan, fearing the taint of chaos. As his condition got worse it was too much for them to ignore.

Cast out into the world Phi-Zon-Ki joined the travelling circus, his extra scuttling appendages and natural agility proving great entertainment for the Nipponese underworld but Phi-Zon-Ki wanted more. Not content to be a freak for show he stole passage on a merchant ship headed for Lustria when disaster struck once more. Captured by dark elf pirates Phi-Zon was forced into servitude, playing Blood Bowl to appease his new masters. And he was talented. He became a local sensation with his charm and charisma ever intact until one night a plan came to fruition where his greatest fans broke him from his bounds and whisked him away by small fishing boat to the lands of the 'Old World'. Phi-Zon-Ki joined the Changers then, his now fully formed mutation evident for the world to see and no problem in a gang such as Tzeentch's chosen.

Phi-Zon-Ki's impressive frame, sure footedness and skill with the ball have proven him an invaluable asset to his team already, holding up multiple defenders before dashing off to catch the winning touchdown pass.


Training Goals

1. Guard
2. Fend

(1.) Dodge

Wolfgang the wild child. Even from a youngster he was more like a feral beast than a man. Tall for his age he ran the local kids in his rough Altdorf neigborhood like his own syndicate from the age of 9. Manipulation, scheming and intimidation were his watch words which quickly caught the attention of a certain daemonic overlord...

Pulled by suddenly altered strings of destiny Wolfgang found his own self become victim to a plot, one that framed him for the murder of a dozens of children from a local orphanage in a massacre that rocked even the murky streets of the Imperial capital. Wolfgang and his ilk were monsters in their own way but an atrocity like this was a crime too severe to forgive. Betamann was run out of town and forced to hide in the dark forests Wolfgang became angry, angry and hard.

It wasn't long before he happened upon a group of beastmen from the forest who, noticing the budding mutation creeping from his hand and impressed by his size and vicious manner in combat adopted him into their band. Wolfgang excelled in this setting and it wasn't long before he'd rised to pre-eminence in the herd, now lord of a few dozen mutants instead of criminals. With it came favour from his new diety, his right arm becoming a mass of fanged tentacles and his frame swelling to a huge 7'4'', comparably as broad.

Betamann wasn't content to live a life in the shit and the mud however, ever ambitious and moving onto greater things he headed North for fame and fortune where he 'stumbled' upon the Changers. Seeing a niche for his many particular talents Wolfgang attended the try outs and has since proven to be a solid player for the Changers.


Training Goals

1. Juggernaut
2. Guard

Born in the shit covered backwaters of Bretonnia and abandoned at birth by his dying mother for his malformed appearance, Cygor was never going to turn out quite right. Raised by mutants in the forest he was bullied and picked on mercillesly by those bigger than him...until he snapped. A particularly spiteful outcast several years his senior was tormenting young Valtor (a name adopted from the band's local deamonic patron), singing his scalp with the heat from a lit branch from behind. Cygor had always took these attacks the best way he knew how and showed no pain or acknowledgment but some voice spoke in his head and a terrible anger swelled inside of him. Springing upon his tormenter Cygor ripped his 3 eyes from his distended head with his bare hands before proceeding to impale the hapless mutant with the very flaming stick he himself had until recently been wielding. No one messed with Cygor after that but something had awakened in the young man. Sadism became his solace. He hurt for fun and he hurt for power culminating in the mechanical murder of everyone in his tribe in one bloody night when Morrslieb glowed bright.

He eventually found his way further North where he was recruited by the Changers who welcomed his thirst for causing harm.


Training Goals

1. Piling on
2. Juggernaut

(1.)Jump up

Hans was born to kindly parents, bakers in the city of Nuln. Unlike most in their position they kept Hans in secret, refusing to hand their mishapen baby son to the hands of the inquisitors and instead keeping the boy in secret in the croft beneath their bakery. Hans had a lonely early life, his hunched back, feline like face, bird like claws and the ever dripping mucus glands all over his body making him a monster in the eyes of everyone except his loving parents. Hans passed his time throwing small leather balls, gifts from his parents, through hoops he would construct from things around his cellar in emulation of his hero, Dieter Schmidt of the Nuln Bombadiers. While Hans had a deep sadness he couldn't be like the rest of the kids he was a chirpy and intelligent young boy and safe in his home. This was all to change.

Noticing smears of slime around the premises an especially superstitious employee of Hans' parents deemed the place haunted and in a mad fear called the priests to attend to the house. Here they discovered Hans who was forced to flee for his life into the sewers of Nuln, his hysterical parents stripped of reputation and wealth to appease the bribes of the inquisitors.

Hans stayed here for years living how he could and eventually making friends with the sewer jacks of Nuln where he helped scout skaven movements, his mucus hiding his scent from their keen noses. Hans wasn't bad with a blade either, posessing strength despite his hunched back. It was with throwing knives that Hans really excelled however, years spent entertaining himself with leather balls proving a valuable asset. He carried enormous guilt with him of all his parents had lost to protect him and left the sewers with help from the sewer jacks to find fortune where he could.

Ronald Lufthanzer, assistant coach to the Changers found Hans some months later and shocked by the superb accuracy of his thrown blade in a scuffle against some would-be witch hunters, Ronald showed Hans to the tryouts. Here he was a stand out candidate, his throw formidable and his skill with the ball unmatched among his comrades. Now 'Slimy' Hans is the corner stone of the Changers, his plays dictating the game. One day he hopes to make enough money to find his long lost parents and repay them for their kindness and long bomb after long bomb, he'll get there someday.


Training Goals

1. Foul appearance
2. Fend

(1.) Pass

Zebediah was once the favoured son of a noble family, the rulers of a small fiefdom in the Badlands. Proud, aloof and mean, Zebediah was everything that was required of him. He proved a particular talent at the noble pursuit of jousting and his signature ice blue lance was known throughout the land as one to be avoided. Zebediah may have had a normal life and carried on as most spoily nobles do had he not invited the Sage into his home. He was disillusioned with his life and knew there must be more to it than tormenting peasants and competing with his brothers. Little by little his life was subverted by the teachings of the Sage as he pledged his soul to the god Hech'zeen who taught that every man had it in his power to be a legend, all he had to do was set the wheels in motion. This came to a head when his brothers confronted him, the backward and superstitious part of them combining with their hatred for their ever talented brother. Zebediah was forced to fight for his life, ultimately slaying his 3 brothers. His father, the King, was disgusted and banished Zebediah who vowed to return to one day claim not just the fiefdom but the whole of the Badlands as his rightful domain. The Sage was never seen again.

Guided by the strings of fate Zebediah wound up seeking employment as a mercenary, forced to wear a cowl to prevent others from seeing the results of his new master's affections. He was noticed by the recruitment scouts of the Changers while putting down a peasant revolt in Stirland where they saw how he dodged and weaved in combat like a man possessed and it didn't take much to convince Zebediah to take a shot at fame and power on the pitch. He still carries the splintered remains of his once foridable lance, it's bright blue tip a keen reminder of all that has been taken from him and all that will be returned once again.

The prankster of the squad Varik was always a natural athlete. Hailing from the exotic ports of Norsca where stigmatisms such as a blue tint to the skin are irrelevant Varik of the Bloodbane clan proved one of the best runners and wrestlers around when the clans met for their annual festivites and contests of skill and strength. As he got older Varik'd mottled skin became more and more pronounced until even the Norscans grew weary of what they saw as the taint of chaos. Fortunately Varik had never wanted the life of a fisherman instead wanting to follow in the footsteps of his great grandfather Aelfrid Bloodbane as a Blood Bowl player.

He travelled East trying out wherever he could but was ostracised by his Norscan compatriots for just being too...weird looking. With despair beginning to sink in and his savings all but depleted Varik was visited by a little man offering him a place on a team where oddness was a boon not a curse: the Changers.

Varik joined up later that month, his talent undeniable and has since become the team's most effective sweeper. No ball is safe when Varik's on the pitch and with his natural speed he's always at the right place at the right time.

Eccentric would be an understatement to make for Bartimaeus Deuce. Once an erratic pupil of the imperial college of Amethyst magic Bartimaeus' head was always stuck firmly in the clouds, on the back of a bird, streaking towards the stars. Despite being a most gifted student he was kicked out of the college for complete disrespect towards his college elders and utter disregard for the projects set for him, instead preferring to experiment on what his own bizarre mind pondered. Even oddballs need to eat however and so Bartimaeus was drawn to the game of Blood Bowl. Casting cantrips and incantations with great subtlety, Bartimaeus was able to perform like one of the brutes more known for occupying the pitch while being a relatively feeble man of average height and weight.

No one really knows what goes on in that head of his and he's as likely to be found reciting epic poems off far off lands as he is experimenting on the digestive system of crane flys off and on the pitch. It is his penchant for maniplation that brought him to the attention of the Changer's scouts however. When an opposing player trips and breaks his ribs out of nowwhere or when a raging minotaur suddenly collapses roaring and clutching his chest, Bartimaeus looks on, a deranged grin lighting up his features; Handlebar moustache framing his glee.