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Ostland Villians Crest

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This is the crest of my Bloodbowl team, called the Ostland Villians. Its based upon the crest of Aston Villa Football Club, but very heavily modified. I did it up in Corel Paint Shop Pro, using a mouse because I couldn't figure out how to work the drawing pad, and I was too impatient to learn.

For those of you who don't know what Bloodbowl is, it is a game of Fantasy Football. That is football (the American kind) played in a fantasy world. Orcs, Goblins, Ogres, Trolls, Dwarves, Elves (and even the occasional, very brave or very stupid Human) slug it out on a pitch, eleven at a time. They do so in accordance to the words of "Nuffle" the mighty authority whose book travelled through space and time to reach them. They have had to change the rules a little to make them work in their world, and decided to add spikes to the ball to make it more interesting for the crowds of thousands who attend these games. For more information check out [link]

I decided to put together a team to play in a league organised by a group of my friends on the spur of the moment. I picked the team to play with and played the first match with them as "Oisín's team" consisting of "player 1," "player 2" and so on... This was quick, but not very interesting. I decided to put a bit of real effort into it.

First was the name, which was intended as a parody of Aston Villa Football Club. I picked a place in the Old World that had a nice ring to it, and used thier name in its place, and made the second part just a little more aggressive. This left me in a bit of a sticky situation, as I soon discovered that there was already a team from Ostland in the league. So I had to get a little creative. Borrowing inspiration from various sources, I came up with the background of the Ostland Villians.

I eventually even added player names and so forth, but they're not relevant at this moment.

Oliver von Ostland (nicknamed "The Creamer"), once a Bloodbowl player himself, retired from the game at the ripe old age of thirty-five. He'd taken a few knocks, but, unusually for a Bloodbowl player, had managed to avoid anything more serious than a few solid concussions. He'd made his money and left, thinking never to return.

Two years later, he changed his mind. He loved the roar of the crowd, the clash of armour and the crackle of bones. His apothecary told him one more game could kill him, so instead he invested in a plot of land on Athelorn Road, buying it from a group of disconsolate Wood Elf exiles who'd been forced to live in the city and raised a stadium there, and he invited the local team, the Ostland Ogres to play there. The Ogres, not a race noted for their sharpness, accepted his offer and paid him well for the services.

Oliver was not truly happy as a landlord, however. Oh, sure, he'd had a special box made for himself, and he was back in the game again, but there was a certain element missing. He kept trying to discuss ways of "improving the experience" with the Ogres' team captain, Brutus "Ballerina" Bonebreaker. Brutus, for his part, ignored the human and kept doing his own thing, but tension began to mount.

Eventually, things came to a head. Oliver had invested in a set of showers in the changing rooms and, in a heated arguement, tried to insist that the Ogres use them. This was too much. Brutus told Oliver where to stick his showers. Oliver snapped, and charged the twelve foot creature in a half-remembered technique from his days as "the Creamer," screaming imprecations about stupid, stinking Ogres. Brutus reacted as only a fully fit Ogre at the height of his professional career can, and flung von Ostland head first into the dugout.

When he came to, with a Priest of Sigmar intoning the last rites over him, the Ogres had left. Oliver was now the proud owner of a vacant stadium. Oliver stood up, and shook off the attentions of the priest. He looked about. Here at last was a place he could work from. Standing in the dugout, he realised that this was where he wanted to watch all his matches from in future. But still: he needed a team. He shook his head to clear it, intent on setting off.

Three days later, when his headache became bearable again, he did just that. He visited every dive bar in Ostland promising gold, fame and respect to large angry men with tatoos. He tripped a sneak theif running down the street, and offered him a job that would take him away from the pursuit of the City Watch. He even considered hiring one of the former players thrown off the Ostland Ogres team for biting, but decided against it. He'd wait till his head was fully recovered before talking to another of the 12-foot monsters.

Finally, he approached a local cloth merchant known for his imagination and ordered a full set of blood bowl uniforms... When they turned up, bedecked in purple and light blue at the team's first training session, he nearly faced a mutiny, again. He finally managed to quiet down his players by pointing out to them that they were the hardest men in all of Ostland, and if anyone wanted to insult them, they'd have to do so with deeds, not words. He finished off his speech with the line "If anyone gives you any lip, look 'im right in the eye and shout 'You'll Never Walk Again!'" This quickly became the team's motto, and they adopted the raised finger as their badge, a gesture they generally issued to anyone who looked askance at them.

Soon, they were ready for their first game...
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Sneak Thief on the run from the City Watch? Garrett from the Thief series?