Snow White Hills Blood Bowl Chronicles

Blue paint. I remember that the most, I do. His blue inkings. Well, that and his thing, of course. See, this fellow was passing through the village I was trading in, not the biggest market, it being out of the way and all, but the Stout Boar is as fine as tavern as you'd ever want. Anyway, this young traveller was covered in the most intricate blue marks I'd ever seen. I've been to Marienburg, so I know a thing or two about sailor tattoos, but the symbols that adorned that one put them all to shame. He had this... thing with him. It was taller than a draft horse and covered about in a stained robe that could barely contain it. Fortunately, he had it wait out in a stable, or there would've been trouble. Why, as it was, some of the locals were fixing to send him on his way. Fortunately for them, his calm words talked them out of it. Yes, I said them and me, too, for that matter. See, that night foul Beastmen attacked the village and the blue inked wanderer and his, er, travelling companion, put them to rout almost by themselves. Why, I even saw the thing uproot a tree and impale a bull headed creature with it!: — Joachim, Peddler