1 January 2001

Ulric Über Alles

Team name: Ulric Über Alles (a.k.a. Lanshor Wolves, and Unidos aos Cornos)
Motto: "Fists Honour Foes"
Team colors: Black and Blue (with occasional blood red stains...)
Owner: The fullest ale barrel, prior to the game!
Coach: Not needed! (According to some players "Maybe we wouldn't lose so many times if there was one... But that would also mean less beer, so...")
Players: Norsemen by lineage! A voracious appetite for strong ale (and lots of it) tends to induce them such a fighting frenzy, that practically turns them into Werewolves or Yhetees (or both) such is their strength and recklessness!
The one called Ulric is their leader, mostly because he outdrinks them all. hence the name of the team!

Team History:
The day had been and gone. The guys came stumbling in delirium, mead, beer and caresses. The only few memory they had from the blood bowl match they'd just watched, were those furry foul smelling skaven scoring touchdowns... well that, and those really tiny pieces of fabric some cheerleaders where wearing as outfit!
As they arrived to Barbosa tavern (famous in the region for it's "kicking mule" strong ale), they decided it was about time for another drink, and so their ordered their tenth barrel of the night.

Among lewd metaphors, worthy of the chief-priest of Lanshor, and full mugs of ale with the right amount of foam, Ulric decided he would lead his brothers to step on the pitch, as their tribe team leader: "I will build a blood bowl team, if only just to show all those southerners sons of a lesser deity, how to smash the ball on the ground!"

Now, if Ulric had decided, it was so. As always no one would question its will (even when he left the temple with Eric, both with that look of "Sven when he sees Ludvica go by").
"See how it's done!" he yelled, as he was getting up, running on top of the tables, and breaking two teeth trying to block the wooden beam sustaining the tavern's roof.
The laughter and cheering that followed certainly sealed the agreement between team members.

As for what happened next, the story wont tell, and perhaps it's better so.
But one thing is certain: they have never been afraid of returning home with broken teeth, gashed heads, or arms and legs twisted in such ways that would certainly make any Tzeentch follower very proud of himself! 

Team honors: Not yet

Hall of Fame: Fenris 'Ogre Facer' Fergusson (Runner with Block, Dodge, Catch, and 8 MA). 

Team photos

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