FUMBBL, the online Blood Bowl league

FFB-Spectator Project
By now, you might have seen a spectator named "FFB-Spectator" join some of your games. That’s the account used by this project — a Discord-based app that lets people spectate FUMBBL games directly inside Discord.

This is a personal project I’ve been building on my own, and it’s still under active development.

If you want to try it out, join our Discord server and start spectating.
You can also see who’s currently spectating inside the server.

We’re now in Open Beta, so bugs and issues may occur.
If you find anything broken or have any feedback, please report it — I really appreciate the help.

Rogmesh hated Rat Ogres. He hated them even more than he hated Sunday school. And every game, seemed he was bellied up to a Rat Ogre. It was like he had a sign hanging round his neck that said, 'Rat Ogre Parking'. Shredder on Roids a few games ago and now Warpfang. And possibly Murderfang next game. Ok, so Rat Ogres do have the coolest names. Rogmesh would give them that.

Tonight, as he sat at the top of the Coal Butte, Rogmesh was not alone. Tonight, he was joined by legends. Natalie had stopped by along with 'Trampoline' Cali and Patrick 'Boss' Lear. Natalie Johnson and Cali were both knocked out of the FA Cup and of course Boss Lear was retired and had brought the darn thing with him! The only current legend not here was Power Slave. He had just joined the club and was the only other legend beside Flingsnake whose season hadn't ended.

They passed the FA cup around to Natalie. As she drank the Coal Butte shine from the gaudy trophy cup, it was as close as she had ever come to it. Trampoline Cali had won the FA cup a few seasons back, Flingsnake had come so close in season 3 but lost in a shoot-out and of course, Boss Lear had just taken the darn thing home with him and just put it on his mantle bringing it down only for special occasions such as needing something to drink out of when you were behind on dishes.

Rogmesh still hadn't gotten totally over the loss to Flatwoods. Trampoline Cali had come down this evening from Flatwoods, a small subdivion of a town just north of Coal Butte. Rogmeshs' forehead still had the boot imprints on it from her cleats as she leapt over him for the win. But she had brought some recreational herbs, so she was cool.

'Trampoline Cali, Boss Lear, wow such cool nicknames! Rogmesh was sure Natalie had one yet, but Flingsnake only had a super lame one - Rogmesh 'Rat Ogre Parking' Flingsnake. Didn't exactly roll off the tongue.

But the game earlier in the evening did have a special guest star - Glart Smashrip. Ather this whole nonsense a few games ago about Flingsnake being better than a Mega Star, well this was a good chance to prove coach Joey wrong. Glart, while not a Mega Star was about as close as the NWBL allowed. He tripped turn one and was seriously injured on the immediate boot to the groin. Oh well, so much for that comparison. Nothing was proven one way or the other. Perhaps we will never know for certain.

Natalie 'Three EFL Cups' Johnson, Trampoline Cali, Boss Lear and Rogmesh 'Rat Ogre Parking' Flingsnake drank well into the night until they stumbled off the hill.

“Rogmesh sit atop the highest coal butte with a mason jar of shine. Another crushing loss to the archrival Flatwood Smashers had put Rogmesh in a predictably bad mood. That game should have been ours and the Boozers should have been playing the Surcharge for the EFL Cup. But a coin flip that goes against you, a great play by Cali, and finally a shootout can turn even the assured victories into a unexpected loss.

But there was one little nugget of game play that brought Rogmesh some joy, that epic hit on Blaze. Blaze was such a simple name for a human. Maybe you could add 'Flingsnake bait' as a handle. Coach Wolvezzz admitted post-game, that he put Blaze out there as a trap; bait to lure Flingsnake behind the lines. It worked spectacularly well; except for the getting Blaze killed part. Another legend and past Golden Destroyer award winner gone.

Speaking of legends, Rogmeshs' favorite stat was

Total number of all Legends killed by every player not named Flingsnake in the history of the NWBL - 0
Legends killed by Flingsnake - 3

The hits on Þorbergr Vígsterkrson and Blaze had been epic and crushing hits. The third, the death of Ugor Dorfshield, the Boozers' legend Thrower had happened post-game in the parking lot after a Boozer/Smasher game. This third KIA was well within Rogmeshs' counting range, but Rogmesh was unsure if HyperboLemer was going to allow this post game back lot mugging to count toward 'Official' league stats.

But Ugor had this coming. The previous game, he had obtained 'Legend' status. Then Coal Butte had to play Flatwoods the next day in the EFL Cup. Ugor claimed it was an honest mistake, but Rogmesh knew better. The Boozer had the game in the bag, Ugor had the ball and Rogmesh was in scoring position. Then Coach shouted out play "One!" Well, everyone in the stadium knew what play 'one' was except apparently Ugor- give the ball to Flingsnake. But now that Ugor had obtained Legend status, he assumed that with his animosity, that that meant for him to keep the rock. Coach Cervus called again, "One! Once again, Ugor in his hubris kept the ball so he could get the score and the glory. Coach Cervus then shouted a third time, "ONE! Give the damn ball to Flingsnake so he can score you son of a Bitch!" Ugor ignored the coach once again. Flatwoods sacked his newly minted legend ass, took away the ball and won the game.

Ugor had one less than glorious game as a Legend. Coach fired his ass before he could even return to the locker room. Flingsnake in a moment of righteous rage met Ugor in the parking lot and gave Ugor a lethal lesson on what exactly play number "One" was. Yes, a valid third Legend kill. If HyperBoLemur can't see that and give Flingsnake credit for that kill, then HyperBoLemur just doesn't know anything about stats and stuff.

Rogmesh took the last sip of shine and stumbled off the hill to get ready for his next game.”

Rogmesh was getting old. That last game he had taken a pounding, and he could feel it the next day. Oh well, nothing that a little Coal Butte Shine couldn't fix. Maybe that was what Doc Sawbones had given him after that hit by Bennet Ramrod. He wasn't for sure, his memory was a bit fuzzy at that point. The last thing he remembered was jumping over Shredder on Roids, dodging past Bennet Ramrod IV and then rushing twice for a sweet highlight reel TD.

But what Rogmesh was totally sure of was that he was a Bad Dude! He words carried real weight - a storyslinger! Last time he had retold the story of the Cheer Book caper and as a result, Coach Joey had trained Shredder on Roids to tackle the little guy. Poor Bashnag Ogrefield. Must have been scary for the little Gobo with that monster out trying to headhunt (Murder) him.

Coach Joey had even went as far in the post-game conference to compliment Rogmesh by saying, and I quote; "A player with that skill spread should be no where near that efficient." High praise indeed of Rogmeshs' ability to wax poetic. Rogmesh nodded to himself, yes, from a deep tradition of Orcish storytelling, to his command of language, to his rythym'n and spell'n, it was indeed an efficient skill spread.

Later in the press conference he even used the word "Abomination". Rogmesh didn't exactly know what that word meant, but he could use his skills as a wordsmith to figure it out. First step was to break it down into its' root words. "A Bom', of course was Latin for 'A Bomb'. Translating that into Orcish, you changed the 'A' for a "Da'. So it translated into 'DA BOMB'! Now the last part of the word 'ination' obviously had the word 'Nation' in it. 'Nation Wide Baby! So putting it all together - Da BOMB, Nation Wide! Rogmesh smiled that he was cleaver enough to figure that out. Not only could he count to four, he was a world class linguist.

But Joey was not through praising Rogmesh. "...surpass Mega Star..." Well there were no bigger stars in the Blood Bowl media than Jim Johnson and Bob Bifford. True legends of reporting. And now Joey was placing Rogmesh in that vaulted Pantheon of journalist greatness. (Apparently taking words out of context was also an effective skill.)

Rogmesh took a last drink of medicinal shine to ease the soreness as he stumbled off the Coal Butte. ”

“<< Warning - The following rift contains an Ear Worm.>>

Rogmesh was sure that Coach Oryx had read his musings on the last game. He had read about the interpretive expression and Elvish Dance Bosses. And he was apparently not amused that some Orcs had engaged in cultural appropriation. And in a 'Hold my Mimosa' moment said let's show them some real Elvish Haka! The god of Irony fell over dead.

The whistle blew and the Midlothians' ran back to their end zone and started doing the Blood Bowl Frug. Rogmesh had to admit, it was an impressive display of choreography, perhaps a lost bit of performance art from the great Bob Fosse. The grand finality came as the elves rushed forward and stood next to the sidelines. Rogmesh and crew didn't understand high art, but decided to play along for the 'show' and pushed them into the crowd so they could do the rock star crowd surf thing. Regardless of how bad the Booziers thought they had played last game, they were truly upstaged by this dance troop.

Now with all that early game Elf Boss stuff out of the way, we need to take a step back to the night before. Unbeknownst to Coach Oryx, there was deception afoot. Things were not as they seemed. In a Noir sting operation that would have made Bill Belichick proud, Rogmesh and the kids table were scheming. They had the perfect plan and went into the game knowing that they couldn't lose, because if you can't outplay them, Cheat!

Bashnag Ogrefield, the goblin, was not too sure it would work, but seemed to be a good sport about putting on the red dress and lipstick. As Bashnag graciously sashayed away in his high heels, Rogmesh thought to himself that this had to be his best plan, ever! It was flawless and not even a little bit snaggy. Rogmesh was indeed a master at spy craft. Rogmeshs' second thought was 'where did Bashnag learn to sashay graciously in high heels? Wait, What?

Back to the Sting operation. Bashnag turned out to be a much better at being an uncover agent than he had any right to be as he blended seamlessly with the elven cheerleading squad. They chatted about bling, and cheers, and about how dreamy Heliod the Bold was. After Bashnag had finished his drink, he seen his chance. He sit down his lipstick covered bottle. "I'm going to go to the ladies room to power my nose. Does anyone want me to bring them back a wine cooler?"

Bashnag quickly left the room and headed up to the bedroom of the head cheer leader. He was surprised the door was unlocked, but he managed. As he entered the room, he seen it. The cheerleading play book was sitting on the nightstand! Bashnag worked with purpose as he tied a rope to the overhead light and used some sort of modified shoe knot to dangle himself above the nightstand. <Cue cheesy spy movie suspense music> I'm not sure the name of the score, but it doesn't matter, it's already playing in your head. But you were warned!

Bashnag smiled as he reached down and grabbed the book simply labeled 'Cheers'. His red fingernail polish and green skin kind of matched the Midlothian's colors on the cover, but yet was somehow off slightly invoking a sense of unease, but whatever, Success! This game was as good as won. Bashnag yelped as the janky knot gave way and he fell on top the nightstand. It flipped over but worse, the picture frame of a shirtless Holiod the Bold that had been sitting on the nightstand broke. He got up, stuffed the picture into his boob pocket and kicked the bed. As he walked out of the room, he wondered what the purpose of all the climbing gear was for, but in spy movies, that's just how it's done.

Back to the game, Cheerleading playbook in hand. We now knew their cheers and we could counter with ours. Sneaky stuff indeed. So when they gave the signal to start the 'Give me' cheer, the goblin cheerleaders were a step ahead. We would start with "Give me a U!" And the crowd would respond- "U!" "Give me an 'N'!" "N!".

Then the Elvish cheer leader would start the actual cheer. "Give me a 'L'! "L!', "Give me an 'U"! U!. "Give me a 'C'! "C'! "Give me a 'K!" "K!" Give me a 'Y'!" "Y!". What's that spell?

"Un"
"Lucky!"

Things got even worse during the 'Let's Get' cheer. The Elven cheerleaders would start "Let's get..."
Goblins - "Un"
"Lucky!"
"Super"
"UN"
"LUCKY!"

Winning is easy when you have the opponents play book. Bill Belichick would be proud indeed.

“Rogmesh quickly downed three beers as he waited for Wild Onyx to join the podcast. It had been a few days since the big Orc rumble. Wasn't much of a rumble really, more like an 11 v 11 orcish interpretive dance competition which Coal Butte lost. Maybe next time they met, maybe they could break out the pillows, both feather and foam, and have an epic pillow fight! Maybe even they could lift the league wide ban on Bomber Dribblesnot for the game and arm him with throw pillows. But 'Epic' and 'pillow fight' belonged in the same sentence about as much as 'Wrap himself in Glory' and ' 'Fleece nightie'.

As Rogmesh reached for beer number 4, he heard the Baron announce that Coal Butte had won the division, even after the crap show verses Badlands Blitzkreig! Talk about winning your division like a boss, an elvish boss that it. Did Coal Butte get extra creative expression points or something to put them over the top? Not exactly how Rogmesh had pictured winning his first division title, but this late in his career, he would take it.

He finished gulping down the beer and reached in the cooler for a fourth beer. Win the division on some technical bull, Rogmesh wanted to walk off that last game like a Patrick Lear Boss! Rogmesh held up his glass high, "Here's to you, Mr. Lear." Another dead solider fell on the ground next to the other crumpled up cans.

Won the division, wow?! Rogmesh grabbed another beer. Hyper must know what he was doing. Rogmesh was good at math, but whatever complex formulas, algorithms, and quantum computing they were using was beyond Rogmesh. GAWD, it would have been simpler if his teammates could have put some Blitzkreirs' on their butts, rather than busting out some moves more suited to disc balls than a blood bowl pitch.

Rogmesh had heard that birds can count to three. Stupid birds. And Hyper must be math whiz to figure out how Coal Butte could have a league title under their belts. Rogmesh reached back into the cooler and felt around in the cold ice water. Ah, found it! Beer number? Let's see, three while waiting on Wild Onyx, another during interpretive dance, one toasting to Boss Lear, yet another thinking about math. Flingsnake smiled as he counted in his head, a skill he was rather proud of. Four Beers!

“Rogmesh recapped the game in his head. Coach Daniel and his Beachtown Bananabois had a strong opening drive and jumped ahead 1-0 at the half. Coal Butte needed a response to try and salvage. In response, Coach Cervus dug deep into the Boozer play book and found the perfect play. He went to the side of the pitch and yelled out "One!" Coach Daniel quickly checked his cheat sheet to confirm that play 'One' was what he thought it was. Confirmed. Rogmesh chuckled as he remembered Coach Daniel shouting out the 'Big Ask' as Rogmesh was rushing in for the tying score.

Then the Bananabois lined up for their last-ditch scoring attempt. This was the moment that 18,000 fans had waited for. The winner of the EFL Cup vs the winner of the FA cup and it was all on the line. All eyes including Rogmeshs' turned to Gabriel Luthe as he trotted onto the pitch. There was a gasp from the crowd - No Banana Suit!

Rogmesh could barely believe this. Why no banana suit? Didn't it make flings more aero dynamic? What happened to it? The last halfing seen wearing the suit was Patrick Lear as he had a half for the ages almost single handedly winning the FA Cup. As he scored the last touchdown, he ripped off the suit, waved it in the air and flung it. He then grabbed the FA Cup as fans poured honey meade into it. Holding it with both hands, he took a swig much longer than any halfling would seem capable of doing.

Reporters swarmed Patrick Lear wanting comment. He only said, "I'm going to Disney World. Now that I have that contractual obligation out of the way. I quite!" With that he walked off the pitch, bare chested, as he continued to drink from the FA Cup. Epic badass move!

A wave of sadness hit Rogmesh as he realized that his career was coming to an end. Coach Cervus had told Rogmesh that once your agent is the highest played person on the team, you had to go. That was the rules. Rogmesh was unsure if this was an actual rule or not. Seemed a bit dubious. But GAWD, did Patrick Lear go out like a BOSS! *

But back to Gabriel Luthe and his banana suit free attempt at the last-ditch score, well the banana suit could have helped. This got Rogmesh to thinking. These were two equally matched teams, each looking for an edge and Rogmesh in a post-game hooch induced moment of brilliance had the answer. Coal Butte could make its' own banana suit! There was plenty of scrap lumber and rusted nail lying about. How hard could it be? It would be like cobbling together a coffin and nailing some pointy bits on the ends and slapping some yellow paint on it. And there was plenty of yellow paint around in half empty buckets. OSHA made the goblins use caution paint on all their less than super safe devises. Pretty much everything was painted yellow. There is a saying that if a little bit of yellow goes a long ways, then a lot of yellow goes even farther!

So now Coal Butte could add a second page to their play book; play 'Two'. Step one (OSHA regs), string up yellow caution tape around the outside of the pitch and put up signs every 15 foot - 'Caution, falling coffins!'. Step two, stuff stinky Goblin inside the wooden 'Banana' suit. Step three, Troll don't eat goblin. Step four, win games!

Rogmesh was proud of himself as he stumbled off the top of his favorite coal Butte. He might not be around much longer, but he had come up with a plan to secure the teams' future success. Fool proof!



*Seriously though, has anyone seen the FA Cup? I checked the Beachtown homepage and it's not there. We are nearing the end of the season, and the Cup is nowhere to be found. Did Patrick Lear actually take it home with him?”

“Flingsnake held a mug of Whiskey as he sat atop the coal Butte overlooking the valley. Unreliable narrator you say, Rogmesh declared Hooch as the official beverage last we spoke. Hold on, we'll get there.

Rogmesh stewed over the game, well, not the game, but Coach Fitzs' taunts. Coach Fitz knew Coal Buttes' game plan - Choas, unleash Flingsnake, win game. But Coach Fitz did something unexpected to try and throw Rogmesh off his game, taunting him - 'Run away Rogmesh', 'Go hide Rogmesh', 'Why don't you come out and play Rogmesh?'. Well Rogmesh does NOT run away nor does he hide! Rogmesh lurks, waiting for his moment to unleash the beast - to strike!

Flingsnake had played games before against this team, Whiskey Chucks' team. But he wasn't around no more. Victim of a lucky hit. Funny thing about this game, there is no plot armor. Death can come at any time. Rogmesh thought back to a game he was watching in the NBFL were T. Love, an average pro Blitzer, outnumbered 11 to 1 and laying on the ground getting kicked in the face just said 'F it!'. He jumped up, shouted "For Glory!" and dodged into the cage and just sent Rosie into the ground. No rhythm or reason in a game that had already been won, just Rosie dead. But that's the breaks in this game. Rogmesh took a sip of whiskey.

The torch had been pasted and now this was Killer Apojar's team. Rogmesh was kicking himself about his play in the first half. The Killer was barreling down the pike toward a score and he had layed Rogmesh out, putting Rogmesh on his ass and into Concussion Protocol for half the game. That was not Rogmesh's best moment. But this team is different from past teams, they were able to tie the score with Rogmesh sniffing epsom salts.

Now Rogmesh was back in the game and on defense and he had a score to settle with the Killer. Rogmesh dropped back, lurking, waiting, watching for his moment. Then it happened, a momentary lack of concentration by the Killer! That was all Rogmesh needed. The Flingsnake was unleashed and Flingsnakes' got to Flingsnake! As Rogmesh picked up the ball from the mangled Snotling he has just tackled, he heard from the opposing sideline a scotch and profanity infused "Stop Flingsnake!"

Killer Apojar, recovering from his momentary lapse of reason was on it, as well as Rumbelow Sheepskin and two other teammates. As Flingsnake was surrounded, the Killer came in for the hit. But once again, the ask was two big.

Killer Apojar has got game. Rogmesh mused as he realized the Killer was just a bigger stronger version of himself. Will he one day fill Whiskey Chucks' cleats? Maybe. Rogmesh raised his mug of George Dickel, "Here's to you Whiskey Chuck."

“The 100/50 Club

Each race has its' drink of choice. Wine for elves, beer for Dwarves, Bourbon for humans. But for Rogmesh, it was good old Orcish Hooch. He had already cracked open the lid on the mason jar as he climbed to the top of a yet to be named coal butte. There he sat alone in the dark after a bit of an off game. Only one casualty tonight. It happened in what most would consider garbage time. But one of the gobos had the ball and was going in for the winning score. But there was one more threat out there that could have stolen a draw from the jaws of defeat; Ron Swanson. Game recognizes game and that dude had some skills. He could have tried something crazy. And in this sport, sometimes crazy pays off. So he had to address the situation. A badly hurt, oh well, he will be OK for next game.

But it was more than that. That hit on Swanson was Rogmeshs' 100th. Along with his 50+ scores, that put him as the first member of the 100/50 club. It's a lonely club, as lonely as the solitude on top this coal butte that Flingsnake sat on. As Rogmesh started a fire, he wondered about who would be the next member of the club. Natalie Johnson's name often comes up as NWBL's 'GOAT', but she has lost a step and do you really count games played as a valid stat for joining the 100/50 club? Somehow that didn't feel right. Whiskey Chuck had the skills, but was cut down by a freak block. Blaze is still a long way off and isn't even in the 50/10 club yet. No, he just doesn't have enough seasons left.

Well, there was still business to be done. And the first order was to make rule number one of the 100/50 club; yes, the official drink. Rogmesh thought hard about this one as he sipped on his hooch. Then in a white lightning flash, rule one was Hooch was the official drink of the 100/50 club.

He raised his mason jar into the air, "A toast to the next person to join me, whoever you are." He gulped down the remainer of the quart, then stumbled back down the hill.

“The story of Helmut and the Big Ask.

Coal Butte has the simplest of game plans. it's only three steps really. 1) Create Chaos. 2) Unleash Flingsnake. 3) Win games. All coaches counter with predictable countermeasures. First is to question who in the world would let Cervus loose with an Orc team he has no clue how to play. The next is screaming at their players. The exact number of words each coach screams varies but if you take out all the cuss words, the exact two words remain - "Stop Flingsnake!"

Which brings us to the hero of this story, the rookie linemen Helmut. The bulk of the players had worked their way to the south of the pitch leaving Helmut as vanguard. Well, chaos happened and Flingsnake started doing Flingsnke stuff and the action quickly shifted to the North and toward the end zone as Flingsnake raced for the score. He had run so fast and so far, he outran his support. A Beer Kitten blitzed off the player marking Helmut, freeing him to drop back. As the defense was out of position, there would be no support coming.

Coach Campnadian's ask was clear, Helmut had to drop back and stop Flingsnake. This is the same ask other coaches have asked with more and better players, stop Flingsnake. One talked about in the preview show showed Coach Drrek asking skinks Ocktan and Qutarrtag along with Lizardmen Miqor, Kaior' and Ixorar to drop back and simply stop Flingsnake 5v1 (Spoiler alert, they couldn't).

Legend vs Rookie; one on one with no help coming from either side. Was there a fairy tale ending? Well Helmut did give a valiant effort. But Flingsnake is Flingsnake, Helmut is a rookie, and it was a very BIG Ask.”