Seemed like the perfect God to follow as a Chaos Renegade team, always getting plans foiled by the BGs rolling 1 in the worst momentZuvassin the Undoer is one of the renegade Chaos Gods. [...] He is a meddler, ensuring nothing turns out as expected, and that all plans will go awry. [...] He has been classified by human scholars as a ‘renegade’ god. [...] Zuvassin is the patron of those who desire to use his powers to sabotage or undo something. All those who follow him find their plans going wrong in the process.

Introduction to the team:
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"Hear me and rejoice!" said new team manager Joseph Bloatter, addressing the team with grandiloquence. "You have had the privilege of being saved by the great Zuvassin. You may think plans misfiring is distressing. Might feel rolling a 1 on your minotaur blitz is suffering. " he left a pause, savoring the disconcerted looks on his new players. "No... it is salvation. The Hafnia League will tip toward balance because of your sacrifice. Smile... for even in death, you will become Zuvassin Zealots." He then screamed on his high pitched and, frankly, ridiculous halfling voice: "Long Live Zuvassin the Undoer! Death to Nuffle's tyranny!" and stepped down the crate, muttering something to himself.
"Zuvo... Zavi... Zuchinn... Chaos! Chaos!" - chanted the team, still unclear on the particulars of who had bought the team, which was that obscure Chaos God they were supposed to worship now and, most of all, what the hell were they signing, given nobody knew how to read.
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"We're Skaterpunks, Darkie. We've always been Skaterpunks. Nothing's changed." said Cloger the Ogre after training, still unconvinced. He scratched his head, trying to remember the new team name. Skaterpunk was easier, really.
"Oh, yes it has, sir. Everything's changed." replied the renegade sombrily, as dark elfs do. "Goblins dive on the sky, Wizards don't hurl thunderbolts, innocents die. " he paused, gloomily looking at the rest of the team. Who had ever heard of innocents in Blood Bowl before? "That's how it starts, sir. The fever. The rage, after rolling yet another one. The feeling of powerlessness, that turns good men... To Zuvassin." he shaked his head, pessimistically. He once thought he had a career in Blood Bowl. It was no longer the case.
The ogre just smiled. He liked Darkie. Darkie always called him Sir. Nobody else called him Sir.
"It's ok, Darkie. " he consoled him with a shoulder pat. "We cannot do worse than we did last season."