Don Enrique, owner of the Montetriste Noblemen finished reading the letter from Bretonnia. His team would meet the honourable norther neighbors from Carcassone in the Spring season. They would arrive early next week, if the passes are finally cleared in the Irrana Mountains and enough peasants were rounded up to play. He was standing at the window of his office, that was on the top of the Montetriste stadium, just above the stands. He looked down on the well groomed pitch then looked at his reflection. Don Enrique was a short man for an Estlian, but his brawn made him look larger. His hair was short and turning to gray, as was his well trimmed beard and opulent mustache. He also saw his guest, Don Gabriel reflected in the mirror. The man was about a head taller than he was, but lacked the impressive phisique of the old pirate. He also wore the traditional facial hair of Estalians; a well groomed beard and mustache.

The older recalled watching their games on CabalVision. They did poorly in the winter season, losing all three of their games. It must be hard with peasants, he thought. And yet, they won exactly the same amount of games as his team of supposedly professional players, led by the shrewd Don Gabriel Quemar.

He hired the coach because of the very impressive recommendation letters he presented. He did not deliver the results expected of him yet. Don Gabriel stood out from the crowd with several things. His strange rituals while coaching, that would make a Tzeentch wizard raise it's eyebrows. His foul mouth, that could make a Slaneesh cultist blush. His temper, that would make a Khorne berzerker try to calm him down. Lastly a very vivid imagination when it came to diseases wished upon the opposing team, his own team, the spectators, the officials and anyone he was not happy with, that could make a Plaguebearer of Nurgle contemplate visiting a doctor finally.

He finally adressed his guest.
-Don Gabriel, the Knights from Carcassone are our first opponents. Do you think that you and your team are ready for the first real test?

-Of course Don Enrique, we will not disappoint you-he said smoothly.
-Our winter season was not what I had hoped for Gabriel.

-We were trying new tactics and were testing our limits, Don Enrique.

-By testing your limits you mean falling for the oldest skaven trick in the book, a tripwire?-asked the owner with a hint of irritation in his voice.

-How could I possibly know that Enrico is half blind and completely clubfooted?! Oh yes, I should have known, because the fair maidens of this thrice-damned village sneak out at night to have some quality time with clubfooted molemen. Because they are so damn ugly and thanks to their smell the molemen probably mistake them for their own females!-spluttered Don Gabriel.
-Enough!-boomed Enrique. Now tell me about the second game, where I had the pleasure to witness two of my players fistfighting over the ball instead of scoring. Can you tell me more about that?

-Of course. See, the team has some differences. When I say some I mean many. The Guardavías hate the Bloqueradors, because they think they get the better bites when it comes to food. That is actually true, since we need to feed those oafs and feed them well. The Bloqueradors think that the Guardavías are just a bunch whiners, who can't fend for themselves when it comes to a scrum. Both the Bloqueradors and the Guardavías despise the Receptors, because they see them as ballerinas dancing around all fancy. The Receptors look down on the former players, because they are untalented flesh, just there to protect them. All the former three positions envy the Diestros, since they are considered the most spectacular players by the fans. Diestros know that is true and always try to rub it into the faces of the others. All of these positions have a bitter enmity with the Lanzadors, who consider themselves the leaders of the whole bunch and act like that. Lanzadors naturally hate all others, since the other positions have inferior knowledge of the game in their eyes.

-I see. Try to improve the team on that matter. How about the last game versus the daemon worshippers from Far East? Why did you insist on sending the team almost completely naked on field in the first half? And why did the Nipponese do that in the second?
-It was an experiment, to see if our game improves if we play almost naked.-lied Gabriel. The truth was that he got paid a handsome amount by Nipponese agents to have his team play naked. Reportedly Nipponese CabalVision viewers had weird tastes. He could convince the agents that it is a bit more interesting to have at least a loincloth and some pieces of armoour on. Showing less is showing more, he said to them and for some reason thye believed him. Second half it was his team in armour and the Nipponese in women's clothing. Both halfs went as expectedwith armoured men beating almost naked men or men in kimonos, satisfying the Nipponese audience and leaving the rest pf the world bewildered.

-An experiment, very interesting. Anything positive about the games you could add, Don Gabriel?

-Well, the weather was good.

-Yes, the weather was good. You can leave.

Don Enrique watched the man close the door. He was not sure about this Blood Bowl business anymore.