The journey from Barak Varr had been so far uneventful.
As befitting his guest of honour status, he had been afforded passage on the maiden voyage of the King’s newest Dreadnought.
It had carried its guest through the Black Gulf, around the coast of Estalia and Bretonnia, and then, to the wonder of the city’s inhabitants, it had docked in Marienburg.
Now he was on the arduous road journey home to Middenheim. The final leg would be long and his mind turned back to the thoughts he had been having since setting off, so many days ago.
These humans… everything they make is so impermanent, nothing built to last. Besides the stadium in Middenheim (thanks to his rebuild) only the Dwarven built Merchant Navy Field in Marienburg would stand the test of time.
By Grunngi, if you stared too hard at those shoddy manling stadiums in Nuln and Altdorf, they were likely to collapse!
He gently shook his head, he often forgot how short lived a human’s life-span was, no wonder they were always rushing on to the next thing and not crafting with care.
But that ended now for the DLE, he would make sure that the league’s history was forged and remembered.
He reached into his travelling trunk and pulled out a large flat block of gold, thin like a sheet of paper, beautifully embossed and impossibly jewel encrusted.
Slowly and deliberately he started adding runic Klinkarhun to the gold. The hours slipped by as he worked. As the carriage began to slow to a halt, breaking his concentration, he looked back at what he had engraved so far…
“Know then, this is a telling of the account of the bloodbowl league that humans call DLE”
“The Foundlings” – Sesaon 1
And so 18 foundlings organised a league.
In honour of the ancestor, the Sigmar Helden Hammer Conference was formed. It would not stand if the Emperor did not have his due, therefore in opposition, the Karl-Franz Conference was set.
In packed stadiums did the teams take to the field. When the dust settled, the Buccaneers from Brionne, and the Universe of Flashfurt met to decide the inaugural championship. The Universe emerged victorious and Coach Wreckage was feted & crowned as the winner.
Footnote: C. J. Mosley – Emsk Red Cardinals is the first pick of the first draft
“The Expansion” – Season 2
And so the 18 Foundlings became 32.
Each conference split, and then split again. The 8 were formed. North, East, South, & West
The fans cheered as the blood of the new franchises was spilt, for they needed to be taught the way of the DLE by the Foundlings.
But they learned those lessons too well! The expansion teams fought back, the new replaced the old. The River Bandits dethroned the Universe in the KFC with hope to be champions, but from the SHC came scary Demons from Kemperbad, who swept all before them with violence, to lift the first expansion trophy. However controversy abounds as the Universe refuse to give up the trophy to the Demons.
Footnote: Silly rumours of a “cursed franchise” begin to circulate
“The War for the Trophy” – Season 3
And so there were two of it.
The league took the view if “less is more”, just think how “more is more” will be, resulting in the creation of Strength of Schedule fixtures.
With the refusal to give them what was theirs by right, the Kemperbad Demons took Dwarven legal advice and did the only sensible thing, build their own trophy.
Bad blood remained throughout the season between the two and the league looked set for a grudge match finale. However the Norden Legion upset the Demons in the SHC final, denying the league the dream championship game.
But this is blood bowl and animosity arose between the coaches of the finalists. Bad blood ensues, both in the press pre-game and on the field – The Universe destroy the Legion in the final to win their second championship.
Footnote: First recorded reference to “Superb Owl” made by Coach Neubau (49ers)
“Mein Herr, Mein Herr!”
The carriage driver’s call shook him from his reverie. The carriage had come to a halt.
“Mein Herr, a bird has arrived from the Fauschlag, here here, the missive is marked as important!”
He thanked the driver and opened the letter. His post-season trades had been executed, and his chosen players picked in the draft. Coach BigF was still missing, and the bounty upon him still in place. The team presumed he was still alive though, given the mysterious depletion of the stadium’s stock of Bratwurst and Scotch.
He would sort out the Manling’s mess when he got back to Middenheim. With any luck it would take longer than anticipated and he would get some extra days of peace and quiet.
All in all a solid, if not spectacular, post-season for the champs. He would take that.
Business sorted, he looked back at the Klinkaruhn engraved gold, 3 down, 10 more to go…