It was in truth of great ritual significance.Ī pig's bladder was inflated and carried or thrown from one end of the arena to the other, in an effort to score. The object was not, however, violence simply for violence's sake. This contest was held in great arenas where the rival warbands would attempt to exterminate each other. Within the book's dessicated pages, it described a contest that the various sects took part in. It was a religious text written by a group of warriors who came from a far away land called Amorica. He reported that the book was dedicated to the lost god Nuffle. After three days passed, the wizened Dwarf reported his findings to the gathered multitude. The book thrust before his warty nose, the Dwarf sat cross-legged on the floor and began poring through its forgotten secrets. Eventually, a half-blind Dwarf was led up and introduced as an expert in all languages, both current and arcane. Messengers were dispatched with utmost speed in an effort to find some literate being who could reveal the secrets the dome held. Since none of the generals could actually read, however, they were unable to establish much beyond the fact that the building was obviously an ancient temple. Strange armour adorned the walls, peculiar mosaics lined the floor, and at its centre, on a great bejewelled pedestal, sat an enormous book.Īfter the parleying leaders of the two great armies had been informed of the Orc’s peculiar discovery, they adjourned their so-far-fruitless meeting in favour of this new mystery. The Orc leader gazed within the glittering hall now revealed inside the dome.
As he dug into the dirt he inadvertently discovered a hidden switch, when pushed, caused the side of an ancient building, in which the Dwarves had made their last stand, to open. During the lull in the fighting Mungk, the leader of a small Orcish band, the Orc scrabbled in the sodden earth in the hope of finding a juicy morsel or two on which to snack. As the leaders argued, the ordinary troops fell where they stood, thankful for any respite from the slaughter. Mutual exhaustion led to a truce being called, whereupon the leaders of both sides attempted to parley.
The battle ended in a grim bloodbath, and both sides slumped beneath the circling vultures on the reeking, gore-soaked battlefield, fickle Madame Victory remaining firmly out of reach of everybody. The origins of Blood Bowl hail to a long ago time, nearly two centuries earlier in the 2350's, on an ancient battlefield somewhere in the known world.
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