Interview with a Dwarf Slayer

Rescribed with permission from the Maimey Herald:

Interview with a Dwarf Slayer
by Armadillo Salmando

Picture this--you're a 74-pound skink, lucky enough to survive into the closing seconds of your first Blood Bowl match. Your team is up one-nothing and all but assured a victory, but the ball is on the pitch. The only thing standing between your teammates and that ball is an angry dwarf blocker reeking of beer, sweat and the saurus blood he's already spilled. His nostrils flare and his beard shakes as he locks eyes with you. Two of your skink teammates skitter to his flank, waiting for you to make your move. As you stare at your reflection in his bronze breast plate, your yellow eyes look back and ask you one question--do you risk life and limb by attacking or do you run to safety?

For Skatrick Gobbs, during the Crocfin's Tuesday night opener, the answer was easy. You attack.

As his skink teammates grabbed the dwarf's arms, Gobbs leaped at his throat, striking a weak spot under the dwarven helmet strap with both his claws and teeth. The sturdy dwarf stumbled back with a grunt. Gobbs dug his legs into his belly, reared back with his jaws and hands, and ripped from his opponent's body a long severed jugular vein.

Many scribes are calling the blow the first time a skink has killed a dwarf on the pitch since the first age, but Gobbs says he wasn't shocked. As he watched Dinovone Bess scamper off for the Crocfin's second touchdown he merely licked the deep red dwarf-blood of his hands and then raised them in victory. This morning I had the pleasure of being granted an interview with this skink who has much more to his game than running and dodging.

Salmando: How did your first kill feel?

Gobbs: No feel taste. He tasty tasty, like swam-prat marinated in beer.

Salmando: What made you go for the deathblow there when you could have just hung on for a one-nothing victory?

Gobbs: He there. Me there. What else me do? Him blood taste better than my blood, yes? And me always want help teamy score. Always. Me no care about me. There is no m-e in team. Well, maybe there is--me no spell, me kill.

Salmando: Is attacking part of your game you'd like to develop further, or do you consider yourself a runner like most skinks?

Gobbs: Me run, me kill, me clean coach's spear--whatever him want. Me play for team. Me play for coach.

Salmando: What advice would you offer to other skinks who tend to shy away from physical contact on the pitch.

Gobbs: Me say, hey it you or it them. You can only run so far, then no more pitch. Somebody grab you, bash in your skinky skull. Me say, you bash me, I bash you first. Then me run.

Salmando: Thanks for taking the time to sit with me today. Is there anything else you'd like your fans to know?

Gobbs: Yes, would like fans to send me dwarf body. Me run way to celebrate after Beasty's TD. Me come back, dwarfy gone. Me think fans took for pit-barbecue. Me want some too OK. Dwarfy taste nice. Like big sweaty ball of warm beer with cheese. Yummy stuff.