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Olaf Sat holding his fishing rod tightly and sighed. He was getting Married soon. He knew he was getting married as Gertrude had informed him he was marrying her.

Next year.

He couldn't say no. Gertrude's father Grettirvaror GrettirvarorSon was the the village chief, and would certainly make his displeasure known with extreme prejudice if Olaf said no.

So Olaf sighed and fished, he liked the peace. That peace was shattered by a shout behind him.
“Ho Brother! I hear you are getting married! You will be pleased to know I'm already planning the best stag do ever for my little brother.”
Olaf groaned. His brother Brand was one of the fiercest raiders, with his own war-band. His capacity for fearsome rages in battle only matched by his lust for alcohol and wenches.

The last time he had gone drinking with Brand, it took him three days to get the feeling in his right side back, whatever Brand had planned would be massive.

Olaf protested feebly, but Brand was overbearing “Nonsense! Nothing is the best for my brother, I've got the best, most fun surprise ever for him”

As Olaf went to sleep that night he wondered what “surprise” awaited. Nothing good he was sure.

He awoke startled, with a strong pungent smell in his nose. His eyes shot open to see an Apothecary remove the smelling salts from below his nose, and walk away after being paid by Brand.

He was shocked to find he was on grass, with noises all around. He looked up to see a Blood Bowl team! Setup and ready to play a game!

Olaf was even more startled to see he too was dressed as if to play Blood Bowl. He looked over to his grinning Brother.

“Brand what the hells going on!”
“We're on tour little Brother! This is going to be great! 2 Months of Blood Bowl, Beer, and Beauties! Perfect preparation for Marriage! This will be the greatest Stag Do Ever!”

Olaf Looked down at his shirt. It was in a horrible pink colour and bore the Legend “The Stag”. Brand's “The Mad Dog”.

He looked around the team. Most of them were members of Brand's warband. But he noticed uncle Njord, snarling to his left. He hadn't seen “Uncle Njord” since The Unfortunate Incident At Full Moon.

Olaf sighed and adjusted his helmet. He'd have to get on with it, otherwise he would be seen as weak.
But if he survived the Blood Bowl, he would be in for a world of pain for running off for 2 months and not telling Gertrude before he went.......

He couldn't say no. Gertrude's father Sigurd Sigurdsonsonson was the the village cheif, and would certainly make his displeasure known with extreme prejudice if Olaf said no.

PirlOrc KNEW there was something fishy about that blitzer... Does Olaf know he's marrying an Orc?

Haha Olaf thought there was something funny about those Nora Batty style tights....

Anyway - an introduction to the team is in order.




Real - Stag party name

Olaf - The Stag. Needs no introduction.
Brand - The Mad Dog - Olafs Brother, the fiercest and most wellknow Norse leader in Olafs tribe. Hard Drinkin, Hard fighting, and certifiably insane
Uncle Njord - Wolfie - Their Uncle. has been a Werewolf for some time, but has been kept out of the way for some time after The Unfortunate Incident at Full moon four years ago.
Egil and Svard The runners are younger, fitter cousins of Olafs family. Fast and nimble
Ulfr the Mad Brand's loyalist lieutenant, and his trusted advisor. he's also mad
Bardr -Bad Breath Terrible Halitosis
Hlodvir -The Hot Head Not named due to impetuosity, more because of a practiacl joke played by the others where they covered his helmet in Tar and set light to it
Driftaffinnr - The Prof So named because he once read a book all the way to the end. It was an epic tale of adventure involving a dog named Spot
Kormak - The lightwieight So named because he once fell asleep after only 15 pints. Pathetic!
Ginger Not named because of his hair - but because he famously Drank 6 pints of Fiery Ginger Oil after losing a bet.
Grettirvaror Leader of the tribe back home. Everyone else is terrified of him, so he does not have a 'comedy' stag party nickname

Olaf dozed gently, the pink haze of of sleep filling his mind.
He mused about the strange dreams he had of playing Blood Bowl as some weird stag ritual.
He snuggled down, hugging Gertrude's arm that was snuggled around him.
It was amazing how detailed that dream was. He remembered being completely unable to throw the ball properly due to his hands shaking after 3 days of constant Ale.
However (as in the way of all dreams), he remembered his Norse team snatching victory when everything looked like it was going wrong.
He shuddered at the idea of going drinking with an undead team, his surprisingly vivid dream imagination filling in details of the Brooding Pale Necromancer, Zombies being surprisingly good at drinking games (it leaked out of the many holes straight away), and the strange foaiming drinks the Ghouls and wights had.

Olaf snuggled down some more, but something was impinging on his sleepiness, a wet feeling at his ear, Gertrude was licking his ear!

She must be getting frisky, Olaf Groaned and cuddled down some more, the licking became more insistent and rougher, to the point of painfulness!

Olaf tried to push her away, only to be answered by a deep throated Growl, that almost made Olaf widdle himself.



That didn't sound like Gertrude.



Olaf opened is eyes to be confronted by teeth and slobber. Uncle Njord ceased his licking of Olaf's, cocked his head and whined.

It was at this Tender moment that Brand burst in and
"Olaf! Good to see you roused! There's some Zombie out there asking about where his arm is......."
Olaf started as Brands voice trailed off and he started Laughing uproariously.
He followed Brand's gaze to see the arm that he had thought was Gertrudes wrapped around his side.
Olaf had been cuddling it. As he stared at the dismembered limb, and it's horrible rotting flesh, he saw a worm crawl out of the flesh.
Olaf realised he was lying on a beer soaked table in an Ale house and sighed. It must have been all been horribly true.

Brand Laughed and told the tale in every drinking place the found for the rest of the day.

(I've meant to post this for more than a week. only just got around to writing it - was preview/before the Nurgle Game.)

Olaf awoke on the morning of the game to the noise of smashing and and the shouts of his Norse team mates from outside.

He had a screaming hangover. He unpeeled his tongue from the top of his mouth and Opened his eyes. The team were suppose to be facing the filthy Nurgle team in an hour

That crashing noise was getting closer. What was it?

Olaf stood up. Then sat down again, clutching his thumping head. He could hear the sounds of fighting outside. and a shout of "Where is that no good norseman! That disappeared on a stag with no warning!"

Oh shit that sounded like Grettirvaror! Now he was in trouble!

He finally managed to raise his head again to look at the door as it burst open to show the giant of a man that was his future Father in Law.
"Olaf, how dare you travel away for Months on a time abandoning Gertrude without telling me where you were going? You leave to have a jolly! kicking Ass on the Blood bowl field! How dare you!"
The thump came swift and fast, and made Olaf's pained head rattle so much he thought his teeth were coming loose.

"How dare you! Who want to be my son-in-law! How dare you go on this Stag without inviting me! I love Blood Bowl"

Olaf, thinking fast replied woozily "Why don't you join our team?" and then fell unconscious.

The new team member settled in quickly to team Stagocalypse, as every single man jack of them were terrified of Grettirvaror, and allowed him in without even giving him a "comedy " nick name.

(Match result image 2-1 victory to the Stags)

http://bbm.jcmag.fr/BloodBowlManager.We ... en&bg=orca

Olaf groaned and stumbled to his feet. He looked terribly pale.
On the other side of the blood bowl field he could see a professional looking team of Elf players.
They all looked clean cut, well drilled, and sober. They were practising moves and passes.
He looked around at his own team, They were dishevelled, standing, and most of them were still drinking. They were practising a rude Drinking song.

The referee called the captains over for the coin toss. He only remembered he had been named captain when Brand shoved him forward.
The opposing Elf captain looked at him with disdain. The referee made the toss, and it the Elf called correctly. Olaf had lost focus though and threw up over the opposing captains shoes.

He did not look pleased.

The game kicked off, and Olaf ran to pick up the ball. he looked down though and could see 3 balls. He tried to pick the middle, but grasped thin air....
Olaf groaned.... this game was going to be hard.