Winnings: 70,000 Inducements: 0
Player Eddie Van Halen(1) CMP: 5
Player Les Paul(3) Injury: Badly Hurt
Player Muddy Waters(4) Injury: Badly Hurt
Player Eric Clapton(5) Injury: Badly Hurt
Player Tom Morello(8) Injury: Dead
Player Angus Young(12) Injury: -1 ST
Player Stevie Ray Vaughn(14) Injury: Badly Hurt
Player Randy Rhoads(15) MVP: 1 Takes Skill(s): Block Injury: Niggler
Player Carlos Santana(16) Injury: Niggler
Spiraling Expenses: 0 Team Value: 1,730,000 Treasury: 70,000
Fan Factor went down to 8
Treasury after purchases is 70,000
Retired Angus Young(12) to coaching staff
New Team Value: 1,580,000 Final Team Treasury: 70,000

Winnings: 50,000 Inducements: 0
Player Sven "Postman" Quique(3) TD: 1
Player Ymir Wrathsmith(4) CAS: 6 Takes Skill(s): Pro
Player Jager(8) CAS: 1 MVP: 1 Takes Skill(s): Multiple Block
Player Loc Armstrong(12) TD: 1 Takes Skill(s): Leader
Player Jorg Rockstomp(13) Injury: Dead
Player Krakow Norj(15) CAS: 1
Spiraling Expenses: 40,000 Team Value: 2,300,000 Treasury: 120,000
Fan Factor went up to 7
Treasury after purchases is 120,000
New Team Value: 2,300,000 Final Team Treasury: 120,000

The Storm were spending time being boisterous in their drinking and eating at the mead hall.  The winter and spring had been long and cold and the Nitterslegih Battlegrounds were well into their thaw for the summer.  As the boys lost themselves in their ale, a small halfling courier entered the mead hall and climb up onto the bar.

“Ahhhhemmm.....  TO the Storm of Mjolnir, reigning Spike! Cup champions and first among all teams fro the north lands.  The mighty Warcows from the woods have requesed your presence for a mighty game of Bloodbowl so that they may test their mettle and show their prowess as a team among champions!!!”

As the halfling’s announcement stop, the mead hall became dead quiet.  Not a norseman stirred.  They all looked at each other in disbelief.  Finally the Armstrong brothers looked at each, and started to laugh.  As if on cue, the entire hall errupted in laughter.

The halfling’s face became red and as he looked around all of the norse were doubled over laughing.

“What is so funny?!?!  You have been challenge Storm of Mjolnir by the mighty Warcows!  Have you no show of respect?  Are you so drunk and content in your revelry in the north that a team as dangerous as the Warcows scares you into insanity....”

As the last word fell from the halflings lips, Ymir leapt from his barstool and grabbed the little messenger by the throat.

“You dare to call into question the authority of this team in their own lodge?  You are either ignorant of the ways of the norse, or brash on foolish half pint!!!  If this “call to battle” from the wood elf team is as you say, I would say that both you and these Warcows are a little of both.”

Across the room Jager stood up from his rock and put down his keg of mead.  He let out a blood curling hwol and then stooped down with his moth open, pointing to the gapping opening that lay between his feirsome teeth.

“Looks like this just isn’t your day midget… You can be comforted that the Storm of Mjolnir will take this message and wriek havoc and destruction upon your masters of the woods.  Now, you can serve us in one last task....  Feed our snow troll!!!!”

And with that Ymir hurled the halfling across the room and into the waiting maw of the snow troll Jager.

“Looks like we have some pointy eared upstarts to go school!!!  Take in your last tankard boys, because we are leaving the tundra and heading for the woods!!!”

And with that, the Storm rolled out and readied themselves to reign down the thunder.....