Gianfranco Mancini’s Reviews > The Blood Bowl Omnibus > Status Update

‘Who beckons the servant of the Blood God?’ Schlitz roared in a voice that carried further than Jim or Bob’s. ‘Who shall be the first penitent to slake his thirst?’
‘Bob,’ Jim’s voice said. ‘I think we’re in for a real show here tonight.’

‘Gots a death wish, punk?’ Skragger growled into Dunk’s ear. The crowd screeched with approval.
‘Wait!’ Dunk shouted. ‘This man is an evil wizard! He was going to kill you!’
Skragger just shook his head as he threw Dunk back over the edge of the stage. ‘Look around, punk. Game’s fulla evil wizards.’

‘Well, Bob,’ Jim’s voice said, ‘it looks like one of the Hackers has decided to join the ceremony.’
‘That’s number seven, Dunk Hoffnung,’ Bob said, ‘and he looks excited. Perhaps Coach Pegleg chose him for the traditional human sacrifice.’
‘I thought Orcidas gave up on those after last year’s summoning of the great daemon Nurgle nearly started another Red Plague.’

‘If you make it to the Chaos Cup, we’ll see you there,’ Blaque said. With that, the two Game Wizards left.
Dunk, Dirk, and Spinne stared at the empty doorway for a moment.
Dirk put his arm around his brother. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘It can’t get much worse, right?’
Dunk coughed. ‘Did I mention a threat on our lives by a black orc named Skragger?’

Dunk leapt to his feet and saw M’Grash standing in one of the room’s two doorways, jumping up and down with glee like a schoolgirl spotting a pony. Dunk would have smiled at that were it not for the vampire in the skull-emblazoned armour and helmet darting at him.
‘This time, I’ll have the ball and your life!’ The Impaler promised.

Dunk shook his head. ‘Doesn’t that make for a pretty crowded game?’
Slick smiled. ‘It makes for mayhem, son. Beautiful mayhem.’ The spectators roared as an undead player opened another chest that exploded in his face. Slick gestured all around him. ‘You have to give the people what they want!’ he shouted.

Dunk snorted. ‘I suppose it’s better to have the ogre with you than against you. I have to say, though, I thought an ogre would be…’
‘Less sensitive?’
‘That’s it.’
Cavre nodded. ‘Mr. K’Thragsh is a special case. Years back, an Imperial army wiped out his entire village when he was just an infant. He was the only survivor.’
‘That’s horrible.’
‘They were eating the people in the neighbouring village.’

‘Isn’t he a vampire?’ Dunk asked. Even he’d heard of Bob Bifford and his partner Jim Johnson, who Dunk knew was an ogre like M’Grash. ‘How does he do this during the day?’
‘Sun Protection Fetish,’ Slick said. ‘How do you think guys like Hugo “the Impaler” von Irongrad ever manage to play day games? They keep their SPF on them at all times.’

The day of Dunk’s first game dawned bright and painfully early for the young man. His head felt as if M’Grash had decided to stuff it with cotton and use it for a pillow. Fortunately, as the day wore on Dunk felt better and better, and by the time the game rolled around he was ready to play.

Pegleg took one of the contracts back from Dunk and gave the rookie the other. He slid his contract back into the desk, then rose and offered Dunk his hand. Dunk took it and shook it firmly.
‘Welcome aboard, Mr. Hoffnung,’ Pegleg said. ‘May you have a long and exciting career.’