Blood Bowl 3 is another fond, faithful adaptation – but couldn’t it be more?
“I’ve made it,” monologues a goblin, donning chainmail and spiked shoulderpads in the changing rooms. “Finally. After all these years of hardship. After everything they told me. I will show them that even I can be the best player.”
The pitch suitably set for bathos, no series fan will be surprised by what happens next. No sooner has our protagonist left the tunnel than he’s launched skyward by a backhand from an ogre. In the match’s opening moments, he sees more airtime than the ball. And shortly afterwards, he’s a footnote, prone in the grass as much larger – and better armed – humanoids pound the earth around his limp form.
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