Da fight pit was surrounded by bloodthirsty boyz, all eagerly waiting the upcoming showdown. Their Warboss, Rumpin’ Backthumpa, had been challenged by one of the Nobz. Skarfinga da Bull was a savage and proud warrior who disagreed with Rumpin’ regarding the tribes style of warfare. Da Bull wished to return to clan Snakebite ways, and this was reflected in his appearance. Swirling and complex tattoos covered his naked form. The ‘ink’ was blood from his several victims. His hair had been stiffened into spikes using squig dung. He stood bulging with green muscles baring his fangs. He was the definition of feral magnificence.
Warboss Backthumpa differed in several ways. What he lacked in sheer mass, he more than made up for in size; at nine feet tall he towered over his opponent. Rumpin’ was a firm believer in the ways of clan Evil Sunz, a huge fan of the colour red as well as anything mekanikal. He had paid a bad Doc to rip out one of his eyes and replace it with a robotic lens that helped him prioritize threats. He had covered himself in random pieces of scrap from Da Junkyard, and on his seven remaining fingers there was a myriad of cogs and bands. The ever kunnin’ Warboss had also drenched himself in axle grease, rendering it impossible to grab a hold of his sinewy form.