Chapter 1. 

- Chapter 1. 

On the road leading to the city there was a small wagon with a rider and a couple of sturdy peasants in it. Everything in it implied that it was an ordinary peasant wagon and it was most likely carrying goods to the market or a taxes to the local lord. Only there was one small detail that hinted that the driver and his passengers were not bringing food or other farm goods. This detail was the body of a man not older than 30 years, height of about 2 meters plus or minus a couple of centimeters and strong muscles from the clothes on which was only a large cloth used as a loincloth. 

At the entrance to the city, the peasants said something to the guards and, pointing at the sleeping body, were allowed to enter the city. The city was also quite unusual. Well for a modern man from the 21st century Earth. The architecture, the people and many other things were more like a mixture of the Middle Ages and the Renaissance. But the most important factor that proved that this was not Earth was the magic and the unusual inhabitants that had little to do with humans. Short stout men with long beards, slender and refined handsome men and women whose hair didn't hide their long ears, and one big burly guy whose eyes didn't show any sign of intelligence. And magic...a man in a green robe sitting in the tavern quickly grew some kind of snack for beer, and his neighbor in orange-red robes lit up a flame from his finger. At the same time, there was some strange round device on the table projecting a video similar to an NFL Super Bowl commercial. 

Roughly speaking, the world was not ordinary and very much a strange place. But guy in the cart didn't care about that. Why? Because he was in such a blackout that even if an orchestra suddenly starts playing next to him, he won't even wake up. That's why apparently for loading such a heavy load the driver took with him two strong guys who helped to unload the sleeping guy near a stone building near which there was a huge green field with markings and an area for gymnastics if to judge by different equipment and a few people who were doing push-ups or pulling weights.

The peasants, who had finished unloading the sleeping beauty, were standing next to the driver, who was talking about something with a man dressed in a mixture of a Landsknecht costume and a coach from 80-90's movies, who came out of the building. 

- Who did you bring in this time, Klaus? Another promising talent from your village who's gonna be a good player in the Blood Bowl? - said the Landsknecht coach with obvious sarcasm while examining the sleeping guy. 

- I'm sure of this guy! I swear to you Grim! - replied Klaus, pulling his beard. 

- You said that about the last guy, too. But that bastard didn't last a couple months, killed by a small goblin. And all those words and promises! That he was the strongest and brightest in your village! A future star! It only took one punch from a fucking green-skinned little goblin to send him first to the apothecary and then to the grave! So much money wasted on his training before it was even paid off. So Klaus, you're not fooling me this time. - Grim's furious face scared the shit out of the two peasants behind the driver.

The driver, unlike them, was tougher. Or just more brazen. So he kept praising the guy and demanding money. Well, that's what scouts are like. 

- Grim, we found this guy not far from our village when we went to get firewood. We saw some broken trees in the woods, so we went over and found him lying there. At first we thought he was some woodcutter from a neighboring village, but he was naked and without any tools for chopping. - Klaus told about where and in what condition they found the guy. 

- You scumbag, are you trying to give me some kind of raving lunatic?! Spit it out! Who paid you to set me up like this?! - Grim started cursing and intimidating Klaus. 

Had Klaus been more attentive, he would have noticed Grim giving interested looks at the sleeping guy. But Grim's oratorical skills were better than the dodgy driver's observation skills. A disguised haggling began, in which Grim clearly dominated it as clear as day. So instead of the thick coin pouch he was expecting in his dreams, Klaus received a skinny purse with mostly small copper coins. 

Muttering something about greedy bastards and bloodsuckers, the driver quickly loaded into his cart and together with his friends headed towards the gate. But neither he nor his passengers reached their village. No, they had not been robbed. It was much simpler than that. Having gotten money practically out of thin air, he decided to celebrate it so that the skinny purse was completely empty by morning, and the miserable scout-workers had a hangover. But that's of no importance and a completely different story. 

Grim at this time called a couple of assistants carried the still sleeping guy to the local infirmary, where he asked for an initial examination by a healer. 

While the healer did his work Grim was pacing his office. He was very pensive. He liked the guy's physical appearance a lot. Height, weight, muscles. He clearly had potential. And if his brains weren't too bad, he'd be great. And his club needs a player like that right now. The Carroburg Jackasses were in a state of decline. For nearly a quarter of a century, their team had been on a downward spiral. They had stopped making it to the finals, their current opponents were mostly amateur teams, fans and sponsors were starting to turn their backs on them. But most importantly the players. 

Where are those vivid bloody battles when even teams from Middenheim were missing a third of their players in the first half. Where are those ruthless blitzes, after which you can clearly see the way to the scoring zone thanks to pools of blood and unconscious bodies of opponents. Where are those risky passes that either brought points or cost a couple of teeth and the risk of a dislocated shoulder. 

The current players were, to put it mildly, not at that level. And to be honest, they were complete shit in the eyes of Grim, who had managed to play for the top club in the capital, Reikland Reavers, until he hurt his knee, broke a rib, and got his thumb bitten off near the end of his career. The need for money, all of his earnings he spent on partying and medical treatment and gave away to all sorts of fake friends, forced him to accept the role of head coach at the once vibrant team, but now found at the very bottom of the rankings. From utter devastation and falling to the level of weak amateur teams they were kept by rare victories and loyal fans, which, unfortunately, are too few. 

Grim went deep into his thoughts over the difficult fate of the team that only at the last moment noticed the arrival of a carriage on the territory of the club. Instead of the expected coats of arms and other insignia, the carriage read Waggy's Snacks and a fat man holding a large cooked crab claw. 

It was the team's main, and only, sponsor, Waggy Crab-eater. The fat halfling, with the help of his assistants, got out of the carriage and walked with a loud panting toward the main entrance of the club building. 

Grim frowned. Now there was going to be another unpleasant conversation with this fatso about spending a lot of money and not getting any returns. Again he would cut the budget and threaten that this was the last season he would sponsor the team.

Sighing Grim put on his best smile and prepared to listen to a lot of threats and claims from the little pig who thinks that since he is the main sponsor, he is the boss. Although in Grim's case he is, because Waggy was the one who hired and promoted him to the role of coach in the hope of making a fortune when the team will rise like a phoenix. 

The negotiations went as Grim expected with one exception. Waggy said that if the team loses the next match, it would be the last match he was sponsoring the team for. This was really shitty news for Grim. After all, after such a fiasco you can forget about about any career and money. Nobody likes losers. 

It was all-or-nothing. 

Grim had made up his mind. Their new player will be on the field in the next match. And then it's up to whatever happens. It's just a matter of getting him to sign a contract. And that had never been much of a problem.