Bloodbowl Manager Exhibition Tournament (Results, Standings, Schedule)

[Clarkson]

Bloodbowl Rulebook

This is the Results thread for the Bloodbowl Manager Exhibition Tournament. Here you'll find results, standings, upcoming matches, and the teams publications. Feel free to trash talk here as well!

If you want to manage your team do it in the Team Management Thread.

Here's where matches will be once they're run.

[Clarkson]

Round Robin Standings

Rank	Team	Team Value	Wins	Losses	Draws	Streak	Points
1	Holhokki Tapio	990	-	-	-	-	0
1	Little Green Men	1000	-	-	-	-	0
1	Rabid Weasels	1000	-	-	-	-	0
1	Underdark United	990	-	-	-	-	0
1	Landerneds Landwasters	1000	-	-	-	-	0
1	Los Muertos Vivientes	1000	-	-	-	-	0

[Crow]

[Delia2531]

THE GUTTER PRESS

Week 1 Edition

Where are they now?

Welcome back Rat-Fans, after the spectacle that was Season VII of the GitP Bloodbowl Manager League we are finally coming to the end of the dry spell with a shortened exhibition tournament under the watchful eyes of the new commissioner.

Some rumours have arisen in the time we’ve been away as to the relationship between the former commissioner, Crow, and Selene of the Strut; that combined with the almost world-ending antics of some of the behind the scenes powers during the last season it is probably for the best that we had some time away and come back refreshed.

So what of your favourite rats? Fresh off the back of their Finals defeat by the Bats and the end-of-season awards party, Diggles and the team took a hard-earned vacation getting some much needed darkness with all you can eat garbage and cold and cold running filth; everything a growing rat needs!

Tanya, and Tanya too, continued to delight the fans with their appearance in the Bloodbowl Illustrated Swimsuit edition each Summer since we last saw the teams; they have also been seen around the various hot-spots and night-life attractions with a string of the wealthy and powerful from the various Bloodbowl leagues around the world. Rumour has it that they are trying to secure a contract for the LDR to appear in the real big-time leagues; the certainly aren’t available for this exhibition series, which is probably for the best for some of those rookie teams trying to catch a break! Those rats were beaten down, broken and mangled for two and a half seasons, but boy did they fight back!

New Kids on the Block

For now we focus our attentions on the Little Green Men, a Snotling outfit that has managed to literally squeak in to the league under the guise of being an Ogre team. Those little guys with their bright green heads and blue uniforms make me feel somehow a little creepy, like they are waiting for something; and the four barely-intelligible Ogres they’ve convinced to provide them with some much-needed muscle are sheer brutes, they make Dangerous Beanz look like a Kindergarten pup!

These monsters, and I use that term endearingly, have already had a run out in a friendly, and I use that term loosely, with the Norsemen of the Landerned Landwasters resulting in more than a few black eyes, bumps and scrapes with Dr Grot having to perform the Heimlich on Grunt! when he swallowed a stone thrown by the crowd! The deviousness of the Snotlings showed through, alongside the sheer bulk and determination of the four Ogres; holding the Norsemen to a single TD whilst grinding them down, the spaces these meat-grinders created allowed the real LGM to sneak through for their own TD. In the end the team demonstrated great sportsmanship by not trying to roast and eat the fallen Norsemen, although there are allegation of pockets being picked at the after-match feast.

As the Tournament proper opens we look forward to a few weeks of carnage and destruction, and hopefully more than a handful of TDs from this unusual team.

Remember Rat-fans, you are now “one of us!”

[Aedilred]

Wasters!
Against all odds!

A bar is sometimes considered the best place to do business. Not in Blood Bowl. There, it's the only place to do business. At the Darkbeard's Demise in Bad Badenhof, two men and a woman were seated around a table. It seemed that one of the men, with a short beard and pigtails, was just finishing up a pitch.

"So there we are. We've got the players, we've got the coaching staff. All we need is a stadium, a manager and funds for the tournament."

The other man, distinguished by his pink waisctoat and cravat, leaned back in his chair.

"It's not that I don't like the concept, Manfred. Norse exiles and wanderers, coming together in a home away from home, etc. It's got a story to it. People will like it. But I'm just not sure. There hasn't been a good Norse team in the league in years, and even Rampage never won a knockout game."

"Why did you agree to see us then, if you're not interested?"

"I saw you because Skeggjold asked." He nodded towards the woman present, who leaned in.

"Right, and I've known you long enough to tell when you're protesting too much. You've always wanted to manage a Norse team but the timing's never been right. This isn't a league, it's a tourney, all rookie teams, so the timing's never going to be better. It's off-season, so you're not going to fill the stadium otherwise. And no good Norse teams? Sure, but when's that ever stopped you? Remember when the Sabres went 0-4 in their first season? Or when Crow called the Bats the worst team in the league at halfway? There's nobody who's managed so many bad teams as you, and nobody who's taken more bad teams to the finals. You don't just not care, you live for that."

Aedilred laughed. "Alright, you've got me there. But my gambling days are done. The Wreck's yours, I'll chip in for pre-season training, and I'll manage the team. But you'll need to find your money somewhere else."

Skeggjold shook her head. "Without funding, I can't see how we can get even a rookie team off the ground."

"He's not the only funding option, though," said Manfred, shifting slightly. "I thought this might happen, so I asked someone else."

"Wait," Skeggjold said. "Don't tell me... no. No. You didn't."

The door crashed open, exactly as if someone had crashed it open to maximise the attention paid to their entrance. Which was exactly what had happened.

"don'tlookrounddon'tlookrounddon'tlookround."

"BEER ME!"

A figure filled the doorway, hands on hips.

A waitress made to carry a beer over, but the figure flapped a hand at her until she was persuaded to toss it gently instead. The newcomer stepped back, flipped the can into the air with his foot, and caught it one-handed behind his back.

"Great pass, love. You passed the Tezzt. Come and see me later." He strolled over and sat down dramatically at the table, swinging a chair round to sit on it backwards.

"Boss! Manny! Skeggy!"

"E.N," said Aedilred, somewhat warily.

"Mr. Tezz," Manfred said.

"You're wearing sunglasses," Skeggjold said by way of greeting.

"They're prescription."

"They're definitely not."

Manfred cleared his throat. "Aedilred's agreed to give us the stadium and manage. Did you get a chance to look at my proposal?"

"No, I don't have time to read, or look at things. But I did get someone to give me the gist. Hot Norse exiles? I love it."

"You realise these are men, don't you?" Skeggjold asked.

"Wait, what? But when I was in Skeggi all the Norse exiles were hot women between the age of 18 and 23!"

"No, these are definitely guys."

"So, eleven guys, wearing bikinis and body lotion? How's that work? Seems a bit gay, doesn't it?"

"No, what-" Skeggjold stopped for a moment, closed her eyes and sighed. "Not Amazons. Norse. You remember Rampage? Folkvang, Sess, Niflheimr. Like that."

"Oh! Right!" He paused. "Still a bit gay though, isn't it? You know, I always wondered. All those post-match showers..."

"Morr." Aedilred spoke as if endless depths of patience were, against all odds, reaching an end. "It's a Blood Bowl team. Of men. Like all the ones you played in."

"Yeah, like I said, a bit gay."

"...Right. So it's not a problem?"

"No. I'm in."

"Really?" Manfred's eyes had assumed a somewhat fixed and distant look, but he suddenly jolted back into life. "For how much?"

"Let's say a grand of large, or a large grand, or whatever it's called."

"Do you mean 'a million dollars'?" Aedilred asked.

"Yeah, that. This is a definite winner! You and me back together, we can't fail!"

"That's what you said before the Season II semi. Then you spent two straight periods holding the ball and staring at the sky, before the Heroes took you out. Remember? We had words."

"Right! But we can't fail twice. Can we?"

[Leriel]

Just a tavern meeting

”A tavern. A crowed place, the more the better, since the noise will cover the conversation.”
This is the feeling of a skaven girl, slowly drinking from a mug of beer, sitting at a table with a pretty young woman and a female elf (who can say her age?).

The human woman has a cape covering her head, but some black, curling hair strands found their way out. She’s drinking from a big mug of beer, too, and she shakes her head after removing the cape, revealing a familiar face for Blood Bowl supporters: Göndul, leader of Die Valkyries.
“It’s too hot here” she says.

Göndul is truly pretty, but the algid beauty of the elf is… well, different, like a face sculpted in marble, that could never be changed by time.

“Can you stop complaining and tell me why should I stay in such a dirty place?”
The elf has a melodious voice, creating a contrast with the tone of her words. She’s looking to the skaven girl with disgust.

Göndul tries to ease her.
“Yantarai, please… I and Annie Rattox just wanted to speak you about Leriel. Do you actually know who is him?”

The elf grins – a wicked grin.
“He’s a dastardly, treacherous, full of anger, returned from death… one, looking for revenge against all other teams, and especially… against Crow. He’s exactly who we were looking for.”

Annie Rattox, the former singer and head of cheerleaders of Sweet Feet, looks at Göndul with a worried face. “What do you mean?” she whispers.

Yantarai, thrower of The Gorgeous Ones, takes a sip of her glass of red wine before answering.
“We are not elves, even if we look so. We are albae. We are artists – we make flutes from the bones of our enemies, harps with strings made of their nerves, sculptures with their bodies. In our capital, the king and the queen live in a tower made of bones.

The elf – no, the albae – stands up with grace from the chair, with a single movement.
“We were bored and Leriel told us about this entertainment. We will win and find some amusement – or we will die and provide some pretty bodies to our best artist in the capital. It doesn’t matter. But I don’t think your simple mind can grasp this.”

Suddenly, the face of the albae changes – dark lines surround her eyes.
“You will never speak about what you learned. Otherwise, the venom I put in your beer will kill you. Farewell…”

Annie is shocked. “Göndul, what kind of monsters did Leriel find this time?”