This month, for the eighth time, I made the usually uneventful journey to Dusseldorf for the Dungeonbowl. I say usually, there was a year where Dave Downes (acting as chauffer, pilot and maniac) decided to play chicken with a tram in his car full of petrified nerds, but we don’t talk about that much apart from when we’re in the process of paying trained professionals and reclining on a chez lounge. Or every time we talk about getting in a car with Dave Downes. Or if it’s a Wednesday. I did make it a personal rule I would never report a tournament twice in this space, but this is a NAF major and it’s good craic, always has been. Also, otherwise I would have had a March / April gap, so rules are made to be broken, and all that!
When I originally made the trip across to Germany, Sascha was still running the show in the Dusseldorf GW store. ‘EVERYBODY LISTEN TO ME’ was quite the catchphrase any time he addressed the field and it was entertaining trying to cram eighty plus nerds into a space made for three, also featuring a single toilet and half a roll if we were lucky. In the year where the Fukushima disaster happened, I remember Sascha mounting a chair and exclaiming ‘EVERYBODY, LISTEN TO ME. THERE HAS BEEN A NUCLEAR INCIDENT IN JAPAN. IT IS TIME FOR ROUND 6…’ and panicking just a little bit that during the first half we might end up without a home to go back to. It made the weather roll a little bit less interesting, if you catch my drift.
Anyway. Nowadays, the excellent DocMaxx looks after the first major of the year, and we play in a spacious, airy room in a youth hostel. It’s ideal really. You roll out of bed into breakfast and then up a flight of stairs to play your Blood Bowl. On a personal note, there are always five or ten English travelling companions and the trip feels like a bit of a holiday. It’s not exactly Miami Beach, a youth hostel in Dusseldorf, but does Miami Beach have over a hundred nerds ready to see what the first dice roll is? No. Unlucky, Miami. I’m probably too hard on Dusseldorf, as I note that after eight trips this Tripadvisor page of the finest things to do with your time while there bears no resemblance to anything I’ve ever done. It’s not you, it’s me, Birmingham of Deutschland.
The Friday night of a major tournament is always great fun and it’s worth turning up relatively early to enjoy. The international field arrives via various planes, trains and automobiles (with and without near-death tram related incidents) and embraces in the bar; it feels more like a party than a Blood Bowl event. This year, Canadian NTO grant85 (more on him later) was joined by the refreshed English (some fun new faces this year, always good to see new travellers), a couple of Swiss and several Alfea member, big Italian deals including defending champion Diomlord. There was the odd Swede, a Dutchie or two and a semi-Aussie to boot, so all four corners of the NAF world were represented and knocking back the weissbier until the wee hours.
A hundred nerds unpacking before anything went wrong. You can smell the hope, can’t you?
On Saturday morning, it was time for Blood Bowling business. This year, I had decided to wield the Wooden Elfs. It had been a couple of years since I had used White Isle Redux and the ruleset was pretty vanilla; I just felt like giving them a go after a while away from piloting my most used team. I actually don’t think it’s a terrific ruleset for Woodies, this. Day one – 3 skills, day two, 3 more. T2 gets a double and a normal on top on day one. This really ups the amount of Necro and Humans you see, which isn’t ideal for the Woodies. Don’t get me wrong, Wood Elfs are very, very good in any format. But it probably isn’t helpful seeing a couple of your tricky racial opponents encouraged so heavily and I think these days most average or better coaches have a solid plan for playing WEs, whereas in the past they maybe did not. I don’t think we saw a WE winner in this ruleset in either Nottingham or Dusseldorf until this tournament and I’m not totally shocked. That said, Woodies came 1-3 this at this event, so your author knows absolutely nothing. Or Blood Bowl analysis is subject to small statistical samples / randomness. Probably the former, let’s be honest.
I went with the classic WE roster, seeing no need to reinvent the wheel. Tree, two Wardancers, three Catchers, Thrower. 2 RR, flush at 1.1 m. Germany is generally a touch bashier than the UK, so Tree over an Apo seemed right, even if he’s useless in most games and the player most prone to rolling a one in all of Blood Bowl (the plural of anecdote is not data, I remind myself). The WDs got Tackle and Strip Ball (as is standard; Frenzy is fine but wrong), the Thrower Leader, and off we went. I was absolutely petrified of meeting Paul Gegg’s identical but for Frenzy instead of Tackle Woodies, as having made a point about Tackle approximately one billion times in the past, I’d clearly lose that game. He was trying to make his tournament more ‘fun’ for some reason. Google hasn’t given me any results for that word, so I’m none the wiser either, gentle reader.
Before I get going. I normally try to minimise the amount of luck and dice chat in these things. No-one wants to hear you saltily recount tales of woe or list numbers, but this has to be the swingiest tournament I’ve played in some time. The lows were low, the highs high and the momentum shifts huge, so the story of the Blood Bowl requires a couple of ‘moments’ to be described. Asterisk inserted, gird your loins, prepare your stomachs, and embrace the madness.
Game 1 – dugamer0815’s Dark Elfs, 2-1 win
dugamer0815 staying hydrated. Vital stuff in mind sports.
dugamer0815 opened our game by explaining this was his first NAF contest. What did that mean? Was he an online legend ready to provide me with a huge banana skin? A total BB rookie? Something in-between? The roster looked solid enough as the DE sported a couple of Dodge Blitzers and a Block Witch; I was wary as this isn’t a tremendous fixture for Woodies. Bad things always happen when you assume anything about a result, after all.
In the end, it was clear from quite early in proceedings dugamer was closer to a rookie than legend. I won the toss and kicked off, attempting to assess the situation and go from there. There were a few early stuns on AV7, so I played a very passive defence, waiting for my chance to have plenty of active Woodies. I don’t mind ceding early tempo in a game with Woodies and waiting until I have 10+ active players before establishing the pattern of my defence. After all, you’re fast enough to do it slightly later than many other races without losing out longer term. dugamer saw this as an opportunity to roll a few minor dice and score in three, which told me all I needed to know. The task now was to control the ball for 14 turns and limit the chances of a drive killing snake. Roll forward like classic Dark Elfs rather than Woodies, keep Blodge on the ball, screen off the cage and turn by turn make a blitz to advance a bit rather than try a 35/36 to advance decisively. By playing super conservatively and using the whole pitch, trying to keep the Tree involved, I could try to limit the chances of a cataclysmic error undoing 13 otherwise panic-free turns. I don’t know if I managed no mistakes, but my concentrated, conservative play bought me 14 turns and 2-1 was delivered. dugamer0815 was likely a little too inexperienced to see what my plan was, but he was a lovely fellow and I suspect he’ll grow into a very good coach. I could see the cogs whirring as I attempted to put layers of Elfs between his defence and the ball, and I think we’ll be seeing him at the top end of tournaments soon enough.
Game 2 – garthnait’s Necromantic, 2-1 win.
garthnait here, signalling peace. I didn’t ask why at the time, but he had extremely bruised knuckles. He seemed the gentle giant type, so I doubt he was involved in das Fight Club.
I still don’t know how I won this game. At any Blood Bowl tournament you attend, in every round, something remarkable happens. It happens so often that it’s not really remarkable anymore, but that’s the nature of a dice-based game. It’s always worth remembering that, because you should always keep playing however bad the situation looks. It might be you that gets the remarkable break, after all. With ‘sage advice’ like that, I could write a little book of Blood Bowling clichés, eh?
garthnait had two RRs, Block and Guard Fleshies, the MB Wolf, a Blocking Ghoul and a Tackle Wight. This was solid enough and a worry for Woodies, as this outfit can both hit and move.
I won the toss and kicked again. Defend with 11 men, attack with what remains is my Wood Elf motto. garthnait had to re-roll a 1/9 on the LoS as he began trying to delete Wood Elfs in earnest, and then when he failed the pick-up without insurance halfway into his own territory, I spied my chance. Wardancers and Catchers flooded into the Necro backfield, securing the ball. A 4+ ball Blitz remained for the Necro, but the chances of a good outcome were minimal and the risk of eight turns of unexpected lockdown good on a fail. garthnait instead decided to hit things, apply pressure and remind me his troops were not slow.
Come my T2, the locked-down cage deep behind enemy lines looked probable. This was undone by an early cage-closing snake, inviting lots of contact. In T3, I had to dodge with the Tackle WD holding the ball as my position had declined and proceeded to snake once again, leading to a dead WD. Back to back snake eyes is a problem for any race and any coach, and the initial, brilliant chance I had been gifted looked as if it was going to end up causing me plenty of issues by giving the Necro unexpected attritional help and the lead. The game was totally stretched now and the chances of a conventional, blitz per turn defence dashed.
Following my misfortune, the Necro couldn’t lock the ball up totally and the Strip Ball attempt was on following a minor dodge. Pushback, ball dropped to the deck, but the scatter was awful. All I could do was put far too many Wood Elfs in contact and try and make garthnait’s life hard, and predictably this led to KOs or worse. That said, what I lost in numbers I gained in the football and I was finally able to recover and score in 7. One-turner survived, I had eight including Tree for my drive.
The plan was a TD in the middle of the half. Pause in my own area for a bit (with Blodge) and then explode into the Necro half, scoring at leisure. At least, that was the plan. Actually, what followed was a shambles. My Tree was trying to be the difference maker. Could he punch a hole on turn one through which I could flood? No. Could he provide an assist for the breakaway turn two? No. By this time, the Necro had made their way forward and were putting me under pressure, so I’d have to dodge with the ball. Snake. KO for the second and last WD.
garthnait wondered if I was going for the mythical ‘most 1s’ prize (he was a lovely fellow), and it certainly felt like it as I was metaphorically tearing my hair out in clumps. Only when I was down to four did the Necro score and I was left 5 v 11 for four turns, including the now useless Tree. Luckily, the Wardancer was back. This looked grim, but I could only do my best. Scoop, move to Tree, dodge everything through and screen off, score was my loose plan for the four turns. While I made the Tree with the WD, a failed dodge left the ball hit. The power of Blodge kept the Wardancer on his feet over four dice, but the Necro collapsed on my position and locked me up. All I could do was Leap the WD all on his own and run as far away as possible, trying to save the tie. He was without support, and six dice were coming deep in garthnait’s half as a Wolf and a Ghoul smacked their lips. Incredibly, they were all survived and I could fall over the line for a most unlikely 2-1 win. I went for a walk, I could really have done with a massage, to be honest. garthnait was a gent and he must still be wondering how he managed to not win the game. Bullet well and truly dodged, here.
Game 3 – grant85’s Wood Elfs, 4-0 win
Oh, Canada. Something something elllse. We love hockey, er, I forget the rest.
What a crazy, ridiculous game. Grant arrived at the table with more Canadian treats than was in any way reasonable to expect. Some really nice NAF Canada dice that have already become my go-to cuboid apparatus. A lovely chocolate bar my wife later enjoyed and European law probably wouldn’t allow for any other purpose but rocket fuel. Chewing gum that tastes of soap (and advertised as much on the packet, what’s that all aboot?). I felt pretty unimpressed with myself that all I could offer in return was a grin and a handshake, but I tried to show as much tooth as possible to hide my lack of pre-thought and generosity.
I’m happy to honestly report that Grant is an absolutely lovely bloke. His Wood Elf roster was 12 men strong; no Tree, two catchers. His skills mirrored mine. Frankly, he could have had 40 skills and headbutted me after every turn to produce a state of concussion that would make NFL lawyers blush, it would not have mattered. I hate the Wood Elf derby; it feels like the first snake decides the game. While that isn’t all there is to it (it never is), there is a bit of randomness to this game that isn’t evident in most T1 showdowns. Those Strip Ball Wardancers circle each other like old Western cowboys, waiting to see who blinks first, and 20 other guys mess about a bit until the button is pushed.
I kicked. Grant immediately went for a blitz on a Catcher with his Tackle Wardancer that involved a dodge and the nonsense began. Snake. I pounced upon the ball, 1-0 in 4 turns. Blitz! 2-0, leaving Grant a one-turner. OTS failed, my Tree decided to make the first of my two CAS for the weekend, casually wandering over to the Strip Wardancer and ending him in clinical style. 2-0, receiving, Stripper dead. I bought Grant a beer, hoping that headbutting wasn’t about to begin.
Quad Skull this, 1/9 that, Grant had nothing but garbage throughout the second half and 4-0 ended up being the final damage. It seems nice guys really do finish last. Not a peep of complaint from Grant as his major dream died for another tournament, but what a credit to Canada, eh? Before you ask, no, there is nothing casual about my racial stereotypes.
3/0/0 overnight, then, and one of four coaches on for the perfect six come Sunday. A lovely social evening followed with some being more social for more hours than others; I spied an opportunity to run away at circa 1 am and speed-sleep before J_Bone arrived and made that cute, cement mixer / jet engine noise as he slept. Awww, he’s so lovable. I would pick up two Wrestle and one Dodge Lino before game 4, and I learned I was to face Humans.
Grant, James, Lycos, Stimme and myself in a bar that seemed reluctant to serve us. Many fun was had, as Dave’s face communicates loudly, I feel.
Game 4 – Twyllenimor’s Humans, 1-1 tie.
Zug-wrangler and huge Blocksfam supporter, Twyllenimor. Lovely fellow.
2018 Dungeonbowl finalist Twyllenimor arrived bright and early in the morning with his Humans. Or, should I say, with his Mighty Zug delivery system.
The roster was three Blitzers (two Guard and a Tackle), a Leader Thrower, a Catcher and Guard Linos / Ogre, 12 men, 1 RR. While I don’t think this roster is more competitive than a 4 Guard, Block Ogre build overall, for Wood Elfs it presents a pretty formidable obstacle. Humans aren’t a great draw most of the time anyway, but to see this double Ogre, plenty o’ Guard, Tackle monstrosity was disheartening. The Tree can be dealt with, the Leap should always be half dice on Sure Hands (so 1/4 on the hit) and Zug can hit hard. Anyway, another kick-off later and things immediately looked grim.
Twyllenimor made a stun and a KO on the LoS and a CAS on his turn one blitz; defending with 9 was going to be tricky. I was being forced to screen the Thrower and Wardancers with Catchers and play pretty passively to stay in front of the Humans and this simply invited Zug to arrive and three dice smash things, never troubling Twyllenimor’s lowly RR stock as his Thrower edged forwards behind the monster star. I tried to force the cage towards the Tree and cause a position where two Guard players on the side of the cage would be pinned to the Wood, disrupting the ongoing position, but no, a one dice solved that problem and took the Tree out of the equation. Zug continued to punch into my territory, and around turn five, Twyllenimor was deep into the Wood Elf half on my right flank. I thought all was pretty much lost, but suddenly, there was a slight positional error on the part of my opponent (I think – could have been a plan to draw me in?) and Guard wasn’t quite as well placed as it could be. One side of a classic X-cage was Guard-less, leaving the ever popular and never moaned about WD Leap / ball hit on. This was the only time all tournament this felt like the right plan and more than that, the right plan that had to work right now or my goose was cooked. I put all of my chips in, created lots of contact, crossed my fingers, toes and everything else and rolled for glory.
My re-roll was burned on a failed Leap and the Wardancer found only a Skull. My only (very) decent chance was blown and the Wardancer knocked himself out, compounding his error (not taking the blame for this one; call me Mourinho-goo). Several other Elfs were in contact, they were greedily battered and I was sick as the proverbial parrot. Then, just when all hope was lost, something magical happened.
All I felt I had left was slinging Woodies into contact and leaving Twyllenimor dice to fail. While he didn’t fail per-se, his position was stretched far enough that in my turn 7, I had a 2+ dodge with the Thrower for half-dice at the ball. I was going for the 1/4 and knocking the ball down (including both down), but when I hit the 1/9 double POW / defender stumbles, I caught Twyllenimor’s gaze and we shared a silent ‘oh shit’ eye contact across the table. It was a beautiful moment. While I burned my last re-roll picking up after a marvellous scatter, I somehow finished T7 with the ball on a Catcher in range of a touchdown.
While Twyllenimor was able to down the Catcher, the ball scattered well and I had four 2+ rolls without re-roll to turn an awful half into a miraculous lead. They all hit, and somehow, some way, it was 1-0 and I was receiving.
A Riot was rolled (pretty handy), but my Tree was immediately KO’d leaving me with 6 v 11. There was no suck n’ go on here, Humans were too fast. There was nothing for it at all apart from pushing forward as best I could. Come turn 3, I aimed to set up a side-line cage allowing a Wardancer Leap n’ score on T4, but a horrible turn of skulls and ones left the ball carrier open to be surfed. He was, and with both WDs gone, 1-1 at leisure was dead easy. I finished the game with a single Elf staring at 11 Humans and wondering quite what had happened. Twyllenimor couldn’t risk an early score due to my KOs, which was handy, because I didn’t fancy a winner anyway.
This was a shocking game punctuated with one crazy, positive sequence. I guess that’s the thing with Elfs of any flavour; that sort of thing is always on with AG4, no matter how badly the rest of the game goes. As I dropped to 3/1/0, I reflected that was possibly the end of my challenge. I didn’t think my tie-breakers would be much cop and expected there to be a whole bunch of coaches on 4/1/0 after 5 games considering the 100 man field. With a final in the offing (so needing to be at least second after five games), there was little more I could do now but win and hope other results went my way.
Game 5 – Gaunab’s Necromantic, 2-1 win.
Gaunab, attempted tree surgeon.
Gaunab had 8 skills by this point, all the usual Guard, Block and Mighty Blow fare was here, as well as the lesser-spotted Necro Chainsaw and Dirty Player Zombie combo. An interesting gambit.
As ever, I kicked, hoping the attrition skills wouldn’t put me in another early hole. This time, the opposing turn one didn’t cause any damage and I felt Gaunab was showing my Wardancers all sorts of respect, forming a very tight cage midway into his own half. I spied a shot at the saw and elected to send in the Tackle Wardancer. It could have gone badly; on a push I was likely to be carved up immediately, but on a knockdown, I was likely to hit a stun, get a tackle zone on the ball and present a Tree-anchored line through which punching would be tough. Immediate pressure seemed a good idea, lest MB got a few hits at leisure and that Zombie got a roll on.
My second and final CAS of the weekend resulted, and away went the Chainsaw. A top result, and very early pressure was well and truly applied. Gaunab couldn’t recover his position into a decent cage, and a very early Strip Ball was enacted. The scatter was rubbish for the Elfs, however, and when a 1D push attempt failed to create more ball scatter bingo, Gaunab could recover a little.
Meaning to keep the pressure on while I had tempo, in went the Tree to mark both of Gaunab’s Guarders and a Zombie, creating a probably unassailable numerical advantage elsewhere. A huge 1D POW solved this issue, curses! Still, the Tree was close to the action, so I made several attempts to steer the Necro drive back into him with some success; throwing a Wood Elf net into an area that persuaded the Necro to move back to the big ST6 lump. Eventually, the ball went over for a second and third time, but the attempted pass away was picked off by a Flesh Golem, who promptly handed off for 1-0.
It’s rare you survive the first time the ball goes to deck against Woodies, so three felt a bit much at the time. I was able to respond in two and go into the sheds at 1-1, but my teeth were in danger of being ground to dust. This tournament had been quite the rollercoaster!
The second half began 11 v 10 to the Woodies as the ref spotted the Dirty Player Zombie applying his trade. I gave myself a talking to and attempted to get back to concentrating. Results around me were going my way; if I could Elfstall for eight with a rare numerical advantage, the final appeared on.
Although I failed a few dodges, my drive was relatively incident free. The armour held well enough, the fails were never cataclysmic and I could move forward, back, right to left and eventually into the end zone in eight. Probably only the second standard half of the whole event for me, at a time where I really needed it. Could have been a very different game I think, had the Chainsaw not immediately evaporated. Phew.
Before the final game, we moved rooms because the Moroccan consulate turned up. I know, right? A sentence you never thought you would read on thetacklezone. Kind of like ‘ice-cream is rubbish’ or ‘Lycos is not insane’. But it’s true.
Game 6 – Twyllenimor’s Humans, 1-0 win.
Twyllenimor and I pre-dice, as well as the Stunty and last place dungeon finals. Each field a masterpiece, well done, Marian!
Here we go then, the Dungeonbowl final between the two 4/1/0 coaches left in the competition. We could meet again, thanks to the final ending to the tournament. For those not in the know, this final actually is a proper game of Dungeonbowl, which is a fluffy if stressful event!
An image of the dungeon that I’ve attempted to label in MS Paint. You can just about see the numbers 1-6 where the chests were placed, 3 and 4 in raised rooms, as well as the end zones bottom left / top right and the orange teleporter squares.
Take a look at the beauty of that dungeon (and the rubbishness of my MS Paint game. It actually looked alright when I did it, which led to more cocky Paint action below). You can see some cobbles, walls (get knocked into those for +1 to the armour roll), lava (don’t fall in there), six orange, numbered teleporter pads and six chests. The ball resides in one of those six, but if you open one without the ball, there is a fireball trap. You start with six guys in your end zone, teleport one more in per turn (D6 = the teleporter or the end zone) and once the ball is live, you win when you score a TD.
I had played in the dungeon once before in 2012, so I knew what to expect. Before the game, I had decided that I was going to spread my Elfs out as far and wide as possible while keeping the WDs central. If I could open 4 v 2 chests in ~ 5 turns, the chances of finding the ball and scoring quickly before Twyllenimor could clog up his end zone with two Ogres, loads of Guard and a Tackler were high. If I couldn’t find the ball or if I took too long about it, I would probably lose an arm-wrestle playing at the Human pace with zero Guard. If that meant rolling the odd 3+ I wouldn’t usually attempt to try and score, it would be worth it. Twyllenimor, of course, lost this final last year, so he was a veteran himself. I won the toss and elected to go first; battle was joined.
Off I went, spreading out the WDs, Leader and a couple of Catchers. In came a Lino via the teleporter, and he was able to open chest 1. Fail, fireball, survival.
Twyllenimor went next and was first to chest 3 via teleportation. The chests in the separate rooms were a potential nightmare; I was praying the ball wasn’t in there. Firstly, you’ve a 1/6 chance of making it in. Then, to escape you’re thrown to a random place via the teleporter or worse, if you roll the same number again, you’re lost to the warp, which is a disaster! Luckily, no ball, boom, no armour break.
Things were looking good for my plan now. 2/3 of Twyllenimor’s chests (well, the chests in his half) were open without success, and I had likely would get first look in at lest two of mine. I also had good dungeon position with Wardancers marshalling a large area. I opened chest 5 next with my Thrower, and YES! It was the ball! I was now looking for the swift score, Twyllenimor knew he had to man his defences.
The ball is found! You can just about see the Thrower down at the bottom on the ball token, as well as Wardancers centrally placed to roam at will.
Human turn two, and in came Zug, patrolling the right side of the end zone as I looked at it. Guard was beginning to mobilise, I needed to move.
Wood Elf turn 3, and I put three players in scoring range, moving the ball to a Wardancer in the centre of the Dungeon. I wanted options, including edging forward with the WD and threatening a leap, which might be all I had if the game went on for too long and 12 men clogged up those 4 square wide corridors.
Human turn 3, and all scorers were marked. That said, the top Catcher closest to chest two and that route to pay dirt was only marked once. With a Lino dodge / blitz, I could free his path. On a fail and a burned RR, I could simply edge forwards.
The blitz was a success. The pass and catch to get the ball into handoff range too, and no I had to decide whether this was my moment. The move was 8/9 and five two plus rolls, with Dodge and team re-roll banked. I’d never take that on if I didn’t have to normally (waiting for better), but here, my chances were only going to get worse. Also, on a fail, the situation was likely 50/50 rather than pro-Human with a WD prowling. Speed was only going to have the advantage for either one or two more turns, if grunt got in position, having the ball might not be too much of an advantage.
It was go time. I had to try now.
Everything hit, and as the final GFI came up as 2+, I exhaled loudly. Twyllenimor was a gent about losing a second final running, and the fastest Dungeonbowl final (about 25 mins) was in the books. He could have done nothing more than he did, the fates just chose me this time.
Clearly, the ball position was lucky, as was winning the toss and having a faster team. I certainly got the rub here, and it does feel a bit weird winning a tournament in such a luck-based final game format. That said, it is wonderfully fluffy and I’d not change it. I’m 1/0/1 in the dungeon now, and I don’t think you can get much better than that long term. Feels like a total coin toss!
Final reckoning – 5/1/0, 1st / ~100 coaches!
5/1/0, then, and more importantly, a victory, my first at an individual major. I clearly got some outrageous luck along the way, but I also had some super-low moments I somehow got away with. I think I reminded myself why I’d not played Woodies in so long; none of this was standard or easy, every game was a heart-wrenching rollercoaster. Once, just once, if that Tree did what he was supposed to or a Wardancer did what other people’s Wardancers did, my heart rate might have dropped below 6000 bpm. But no, everything had to be dramatic. I guess that’s Wood Elfs! Back in your model box, minis. Good flipping bye.
I don’t think there is a picture of me doing the awkward grin with the trophy thing, so I made one in Paint buoyed by my earlier efforts. Enjoy my awkwardness, some stock footage of DocMaxx and John Terry, who gets bloody everywhere in full kit. The Dungeonbowl was, as ever, superb fun and the team should be delighted with their efforts. If you are wavering, stop it and make the trip. You shan’t regret it!
I know, right? I’ve missed my calling Photoshopping celebs.
Next time? The NAFC. The Purplegooblins will ride again, chasing Stunty glory. See you then!
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