Our clan began many, many years ago. We were once popular in local sporting arenas as our aggressive style often left opponents whimpering and crying as they cradled in the fetal position in the corner. Our style of play was welcomed amongst the fans but was viewed as a hazard to the sport by the managers and players in the league. We were invited to participate in a special game, an invitation that we gladly accepted. It was however an invitation that led to our fate here in COC.

Our manager, who is now deceased, ran into our shack with the announcement of the special game. He eagerly invited us to begin training to ready ourselves for a promising, grueling, bloody game. We chose to ignore him and decided it would be much more fun to get drunk and wreck havoc on the locals. In our drunkenness, we got arrested by the local shire reeve for urinating on his help (when you gotta go, you gotta go...needless to say, he and his help got a little roughed up during the arrest until our manager got us to calm down). Once our manager bailed us out of jail, he again urged us to train for what was now promising to be a blood fest! The words of a blood fest got us very excited. As a result of our excitement, we decided to go drinking again. After again wrecking havoc on the locals and emptying the taverns of all alcohol (which got the barkeep thrown into the local vomitorium tanks), we decided to call it a night since sun light was appearing. An hour later our manager storms into our shacks as 'special game' is about to take place. We arrive at the arena, drunk and covered in blood and vomit. The special game turned out to be a gathering of all the whining, little, local sissy boy players who spent more time in the fetal position than on the ice when they played against us. Our manager stood with them. The confronted us and informed us that they do not appreciate our style of play and wanted to teach us a lesson. They were armed with weapons, whereas we had none. Selke, still drunk from the night before, freaked out and ran up to one of the managers, punched him in the face, grabbed his weapon and sliced off his head in one swing. While the other players and managers stood in shock, we followed suit. Once we all had weapons we began to relieve each of the players and managers of their frustrations focused at our style of play. We did this one by one as they proved to be no match for us. The blood fest continued until one man was left standing, our manager. He quickly began to applaud our victory and comment on our mighty powers. Once he was done applauding, he showed us his money and promised us a night on the town (which we needed as we sobered up by now). As we were exiting the arena, Jari grabs a weapon from a slain player and brutally stabs our manager. As life quickly left our managers body he asked, "why Jari? Why?". Jari responded with, 'You fool! You betrayed us! Besides, there is no ale left in this town! We drank it all last night! Thanks for the money! We are off to the next town!" We quickly gathered all the weapons, armor, and money that we could carry as the news of our slaughter was spreading through the town and had already reached the shire (who was still upset at us for our little urinating incident, plus Mario threw up on him after we got bailed out). We finally left town and wandered on.

After days of traveling, we reached a town that looked rough, yet promising. It smelled of death and ale! It was appeared to be our sort of town!!! We were applauded when we rode into town, much to our puzzlement. Our first stop was at the local tavern where the barkeep said he had already heard of us and offered us a free round on the house (we like this fella!). He informed us of an arena in town that we would find to our liking, Coliseum of Chaos. After drinking heavily we ran into a man named the Enforcer, who we found out ran the arena. We discussed our intentions with him and after paying an initial entry fee, we were admitted to this pathetic arena. We then celebrated and bought the Enforcer a drink. He mentioned that he does not fraternize with the warriors as too many of them die. As a result, he refused our drink. Toe began to question this logic, but while doing so thought (in his drunken state) that it was appropriate to blow his nose on the Enforcers robe. We then quickly learned the intentions of the Enforcer as he had Toe slain with a mere wave of his hand (a man named Grimjak appeared and beheaded him in two seconds flat). Toe is now displayed, wearing the snot covered robe, in the arenas hall.

We have lost a few players, well, now warriors to this new arena. We are not used to your styles of weapons. We are not used to armor. We are not used to your races. But we are here and we intend to rise to the top. On the sands, watch out as we are out to avenge our fallen warriors. Off the sands, given our story, we think you know where to find us, where we welcome your company (and money...drinking like us is not cheap!) We have no manager. It is just us