It is thought that the Changer of Ways had ignored the sport of Blood Bowl for the greater part of its history, having a disdain for its brutality and crudeness. Yet at the same time, it is ruled by the whims of fate and chaos simultaneously, an indisputable domain of Tzeentch. However, rather than paying homage to this obviously natural patron deity, the unenlightened races of world lay their favors at the feet of Nuffle, an equally capricious and whimsical god.
And still, Tzeentch for centuries left this slight against his sovereignty unchecked. The Great Sorceror remained silent as the followers of his rival god Nurgle claimed glory on the sacred pitch, sowing decay and stagnation. And when his own apostles finally began to stride into the stadiums, it was with a dull murmur rather than triumphant heraldry.
What does the Great Schemer have planned? Was it simple disinterest? Or does Tzeentch have a greater purpose in mind that required such a misdirection? Even his followers seem to be unable to fully grasp their lord's intent.
A blazing tower, hidden amongst the shifting, colorful clouds found throughout the northern Chaos Wastes, is home to an order of sorcerers, occult scholars, and gibbering chaos-touched madmen and mutants. Referring to themselves as the Seeking Eyes, they count amongst themselves a number of turncoat magicians and sages from the Empire. For decades the Seeking Eyes simply observed the resurgence of Blood Bowl from the peak of the Radiant Spire, even as their fellow disciples of Tzeentch received visions from their lord and began to take to the field. Finally, the Grand Visioner of the Seeking Eyes had a revelation: the Changer of Ways had not been ignoring this most resplendently intricate sport. It was, and always had been, His Work. Possibly his greatest - in one motion it had taken the multitudinous strands of conflict that traced the shape of the world, and bound them together into threads with which the whole of the physical realm could be strung upon and made into a marionette. Nuffle was but a sham, a mask amongst uncountable masks, a means to gain worship in disguise - after all, how could the designs of the Master of Fates be at the mercy of another's?
This declaration set the minds and souls of the Seeking Eyes ablaze. At once they saw and understood the true artistry of Blood Bowl, endeavored to master it, turned their twisted intellects towards engineering ever more devious playbooks and warping their thralls into the perfect players to execute them. By immersing themselves in their god's masterpiece, they could better understand Him and His machinations. The founding of the Inquest of the Radiant Spire marks the beginning of what will likely be centuries of experimentation, inquiry, and exploration by his disciples.
What does my Lord see on this blasted field? While I am in awe with how He has deftly thrown the veil over the eyes of the world, surely robbing them of their faith in a false deity could have been accomplished by countless other means? From the very moment my boots first trod upon these blood-soaked grounds, I have been humiliated in every conceivable manner. Brainless rat-hulks have left my proud warriors and loyal thralls writhing in agony as their disgusting vermin handlers skitter back and forth and rob us of glory. Truth-blind foreigners are crushed underfoot yet die smiling as their allies claim victory. Worst of all the arrogant degenerate slaves to the Lord of Dark Delights have twice left us broken and hopeless, their empty laughter echoing in my thoughts even now. Are we unworthy of understanding? Or is there truly only violence and ignorance to be found here? Perhaps this is simply the Great Sorceror's way of keeping the dull-witted and ignorant under His thumb, where they can do no harm but to each other. And yet... when the forgotten one's followers dared creep out from the shadow, dared to sully His arena with their presence, to taint the air there with their lies and false promises, I was filled with such a fury, a righteousness I have not felt stir in me since I first burned a foul wit since I first heard my Lord's truths. I felt it in my fellow warriors, too, and we brought that fury down upon those slavish creatures not with mere brutality but with our strategy, our resourcefulness, and with the turning of fates - the blessing of Tzeentch. It was without a doubt, glorious, yet impermanent. Is this what we are to seek? Tiny motes of understanding, fleeting sparks burning bright... I have yet to settle my mind on it. Despite my misgivings, I will not abandon the Inquest. I have sent funds along with my report: what little we earned from our losses and victories. R'auh believes that his people are a natural fit for this game, and advises we employ as many as we can afford - indeed, we have already enlisted a cousin of his from the Twotongues. The effectiveness with which the rat-things utilized their freakish brutes left a strong impression as well, though I leave it to the Seeking Eyes to discover how best to bring such a creature to our cause.
- Inquisitor Prospo Rubaeus, Head of the Inquest of the Radiant Spire
Those blessed with Tzeentch's wondrous gifts, possessing the keen minds of strategists and scholars - no other player can match them for physical and mental prowess both.
Team Captain:Inquisitor Prospo Rubaeus
When the witch hunter Prospo Rubaeus came to the Radiant Spire, he was already a man thrice-damned by his former gods. Many long years combating the insidious forces of Chaos left his faith and his mind hollowed, and he had allowed both to be filled with the light of Tzeentch's wisdom. He brought with him his closest followers, those who had trod the same torturous path leading to serving the very forces they had strove against. He spent many more years sequestered in the Spire, consulting with his trusted Seer, studying the intricate teachings of the Seeking Eyes, while his spirit languished - he desired to claim glory for his new masters. The Grand Visioner's revelation has given him the opportunity, and he has been appointed as the head of the Inquest.
The Red Seer
Those who followed the dark history of Prospo Rubaeus can mark the meeting between this mysterious figure and the witch hunter as the moment of a decisive turn away from the light. The Red Seer, claiming to be a traveling scholar originally hailing from the far lands of Ind, brought indispensible knowledge and tools to aid Rubaeus in his hunts - all the while worrying away at the tired man's integrity and judgement. The few of his company who saw the changes as they came found them too late - Rubaeus either ran them off... or ran them through, in a paranoid rage. Even now, his corruption of the witch hunter complete, the Red Seer is ever at Rubaeus' side, whispering in dark tongues, as he embarks on his new quest.
Once a master marksman and padfoot, Diedrich Harrison is perhaps the most tragic remnant of Prospo's warband. Hopelessly faithful to the man who had raised him up from the gutters of Nuln, he has been rewarded with mutation and madness. The sorcerors of the Seeking Eye saw little value in him as he was, choosing to use him for experimentation, yet Rubaeus made certain to intervene and prevent him from being rendered into a completely inhuman monstrosity. Thus, Diedrich retains some glimmers of his mind - however of late he curiously no longer answers to his full name, only "Diedrich", or "Harrison", and often converses with himself as one to the other.
Freiherr Otto Nussenbaum
A mountainous man even before his turn to Chaos - the wayward son of a Baron of Ostland, whose brutality saw him pressed into Prospo Rubaeus' service in the hopes it would temper his humor. Instead, it merely sharpened his cruelty, and as the witch hunter sank into darkness Nussenbaum trod closely behind each step. Before Rubaeus' band finally cut ties with their homeland and fled to the wastes, the heir returned to his home to murder his father and claim his title, leaving his estate a burning ruin, and his family line cut. Every attempt to instate a new Baron in his lands has ended with grisly and unexplainable accident - though Otto has never been sighted returning to his homeland. He becomes unnervingly jovial when the subject of his would-be successors is broached, and pointedly refers to himself in the third person and in full title afterwards.
Bestial devotees of the Changer of Ways, riddled with mutations as granted by their god and the experiments of the Seeking Eyes.
The Tzaangors under the service of the Radiant Spire follow a more rigid power structure than most beastmen (likely encouraged by the sorcerers of the Seeking Eyes so as to better control them), and at present the Flareplumes are effectively the head family of their assembled clans. The late Yaux'urr had earned glory for his family on the pitch, and the head of the Flareplume clan afterwards declared that his dead son would be honored as a paragon of the family for as long as it exists. Hazzain, second eldest brother to Yaux'urr, holds no small amount of jealousy over his brother gaining the favor of his father. He soon came to the Inquest to fill Yaux'urr's absence, and seeks to erase the image of his late brother from his patriarch's memory.
Formerly head scout for the Radiant Spire, his athletic abilities have only been augmented by the mutations granted by the efforts of the Seeking Eyes sorcerors. Dutiful and devoted to the Changer of Ways, he often organizes practices among the Tzaangors. While he lacks acquired knowledge, he possesses an intuitive understanding of the sport and its strategy, and Inquisitor Rubaeus has acknowledged him as a vice-captain of sorts.
The Twotongue Tzaangors serve as envoys for the Seeking Eyes, ensuring that other beastmen tribes unaffiliated with the Spire do not interfere with its interests. Shuz'rah is the eldest of the head of the Twotongues, and looks to increase his worldly knowledge by traveling with the Inquest before returning to his family to serve as the Radiant Spire's chief ambassador.
Ix'yinn the Hermit
Having no affiliation with any of the Tzaangor tribes, Ix'yinn has a shamanistic knack and will often roll bones or consult the entrails of lizards for his fellow beastmen. He was not sent to the Inquest by the Seeking Eyes, but instead had followed them of his own volition and approached the Inquisitor directly to offer his service as a player. Inquisitor Rubaeus was inclined to refuse as the hermit had some measure of disrepute among the Tzaangors and was rumored to pay homage to deities aside from Tzeentch, but the Red Seer came to his side and again poured sibilant whispers into Prospo's ear. The two mystics now are often seen accompanying each other, as Ix'yinn aids the Seer in his various rituals performed before each match.
Yaux'urr Flareplume - DECEASED
The Tzaangors under the service of the Radiant Spire follow a more rigid power structure than most beastmen (likely encouraged by the sorcerers of the Seeking Eyes so as to better control them), and at present the Flareplumes are effectively the head family of their assembled clans. Yaux'urr is the middle spawn of their chieftain, and looks to claim enough glory in the arena of Blood Bowl to supplant his older siblings for chieftainship. Over time he developed into the Inquest's primary quarterback, but in their first grudge match against the Horned Eagles, Yaux'urr was torn in two by Helvetius "War" as he attempted to bring victory to the Inquest late in the second half.
Stitched together from the still living bodies of several monstrous players, ensorcelled with shape-changing magicks, and finally having a powerful Tzeentch daemon bound within, this player represents the combined knowledge of the Order of the Seeking Eyes. Often mistaken for Tzeentch's most favored servant, the true Changeling, this creature's own shapeshifting prowess is far less formidable.
Formless stuff of Chaos, drawn into the physical realm and pressed into twisted, pathetic shapes and gifted with rudimentary intelligence and knowledge of the sport. Their lives are short, either crushed and dispelled into their base components during the match, or cast screeching back into the roiling currents from which they came once their purpose is filled. Even so, Tzeentch sometimes smiles upon these pitiable existences, and the deeds of any notable Familiars will be recorded here.