Body of a goblin, mind of an elf, Limpleaf the Gay is amongst the happiest of his kind (hence the name), and though he was christened Stabkil the Vicious, the name did not stick. Early on in his development he took to making daisy chains, writing poetry and had a liking for turtle-necks. An abberation amongst his kind he was loathed and feared. His room was draped with purple linen, guarded by mysteriously sparkly plush toy beasts, and adorned with posters of David Beckham, clearly the trappings only the most powerful of sorcerors could ensorcel. And so it was that he was cast out from his village, with only his bright yellow happy scarf, and Lion King pyjama bottoms to shield him from the savage beasts that roamed the land.

Not to be discouraged however it was on that very day that he swore an oath that he would not rest until he avenged his father's death.... Uh... he would not rest until he brought the love and peace that he found within his heart to all of the old world. He cast off his old name and began life anew as Limpleaf, finding a sense of comraderie in the elves of the wood that like him were so happy and gay. And so he wandered the old world, organising charity events, adoring puppies and generally having a wonderful time, eventually crossing paths with Poogy and his team of expertly trained, finely tuned killing machines. Poogy was repulsed by Limpleaf, retching at his hideously pretty visage, and gagging from his intolerably pleasant stench. Poogy knew instantly that this meeting was preordained since before time began, or at the very least since before breakfast this morning, and that it was his unholy duty to corrupt this happy little goblin, thereby ending the terrible curse placed upon him. For if left to his own devices even in death his body would blight the land with pansy flowers, carnations and those cute little pixies you always see with twinkly stuff following them when they fly around.

Limpleaf the Gay is by far the happiest member of the team, and is resolved to play bloodbowl so that he may convince everyone else that the best game is a game where everyone plays nice, and everyone can feel good by letting each other get lots of touchdowns, and by not hitting each other, and everyone should hold hands on the line of scrimmage.