World Cup 76 - RP Thread

[Damukuni]

Bone... sea?

Wisdom Tracey held the play card in her hand. What kind of a nation would name themselves that?

"I understand they qualified for the World Cup the same year they entered the Baptism of Fire." A figure spoke from the shadows.

"Who are you?"

"My name is neither important nor needed from you - although I daresay your position as manager of the national side is safe and secure."

"Do you work for the FA, si-- mada-- mystery person?"

"Yes, but my position is irrelevant to what I am about to tell you."

Wisdom was confused - how important would this be? This was Bonesea, a bit higher on the world ranking side of things, but still not ultimately a reason for the Damukunian national team to enter the Cup of Harmony. "Go ahead."

"I must tell you that it will be a heavy risk for you to travel there. My suggestion to you would be to take a temporary hiatus for this upcoming game. Meet the team back at Three Forks Stadium in Eruguchi. Coach Yamamoto can take your place."

"But why?"

"I cannot tell you that - only that we have information from a source that cannot be named, saying that you should not travel there." The figure vanished.

Hmm, she thought as she walked out of the darkened locker room hallway.

[Eshan]

Somehow it all still hangs in the balance. We had three chances to put away the group in the matches against Mazurska, Turori, and Qasden. We drew against Mazurska, lost to Turori, and drew against Qasden. We literally needed a single win and we found a way to fuck it up. SO. Now we're here in the playoff against Port Christopher, which was one of four possible harder draws for us so again, we find a way to get screwed!

Nah but aside from that the whole nation still feels pretty confident! We had a fantastic qualifying campaign, that has to be said and credit must go to Alexio del Nieran. 12 games and eight wins, two draws, two losses. We scored 36 goals, that's absolutely fantastic. 19 goals conceded, not so great but with seven of those game from our only two losses it was sorta decent aside from that. Marco van Ciavatinni has been absolutely incredible for us from his position on the right wing. The wizard from Sebio has been in scintillating form, drifting around from the wing and sitting inside directing operations for the team. Already a brilliant playmaker and dribbler, the 21 year old has really flourished under Erathi Alexio del Nieran's personal tutelage and has started to go at goal way more often. It's been fantastic to watch him make use of his mesmerizing dribbling and electric pace and slice through defenses. Potentially only two more matchdays in the 76th World Cup for Eshan.

Port Christopher. Same record as us, 8-2-2, with 22 goals scored and 11 conceded. It would be a great matchup, that much can't be denied, but if we can make use of our firepower in front of goal then we stand a good chance. With the first game away from home, expect to see a more attacking mindset from del Nieran. Grabbing an away goal (or like six) would be fantastic and do us a world of good so long as we don't concede.

---

Marco van Ciavatinni lay on the field of Estadii Sebio staring up into the bright blue sky. He'd spent his whole life running through the streets of the city with a football glued to his foot dreaming of being able to play for Sebio City. Ever since the first time he had touched a football, he had been under her spell. It was a beautiful relationship that sustained him through his youth, dribbling through pick up games, skipping school to watch his heroes play at Sebio, following the path he knew was there for him to take.

He'd come a long way since then. Now 21 years old, he captained his boyhood club and had just worn the armband for his country for the first time against Mazurska and had scored a brilliant free kick to save a point. He held the world at his fingertips, and knew that perhaps the time was near to see what opportunities lay abroad.

The sun shone down on him, warming his skin through the Eshan jersey he wore. It was his own jersey, the white jersey of Eshan with the famous hand over his heart. Number ten on the back, van Ciavatinni embroidered above that. He loved to wear his own jersey. Some people thought it was vein of him to do that, but to him he still couldn't believe that he had come this far in life. Already one of the greatest Echani players of all time, he knew every day getting to play was a dream come true.

He rolled over, burying his face in the warm grass. He felt the hopes and dreams of the people of Eshan press him into the ground. Despite a brilliant campaign from the team as they held first for almost all of it, it all came down to these last two games. A historic qualification for the nation was just on the horizon, and he could taste the sweetness. There could be few things more rewarding than representing your country at the proper World Cup Finals, he imagined. He needed that. A victory for all Eshan. It was almost there. So close. So far.

[Bonesea]

.

[The Royal Kingdom of Quebec]

Episode IV : Avalanche

Yay, the emotional clusterfuck continues for everybody. On top of that, the coach's away so the assistant has to handle the load....let's see how this falls into.

Key Events - Dana

The interim captain's decided, and coaches agree on something for once. But obviously this does not mean that the saga is close to calming down.

This storyline starts on a Sunday morning, Coach Dana starts the day with a jog in a nearby park to hers. The readers quickly get to find out that it's a routine activity of hers, as have been since her old high school days in Montreal. After an hour of that, Dana heads back to her room where a letter is placed right under the window. It is stated that the coach Antoine will be out for a week in a recruiting trip. This catches the coach surprised, as the 26-year old is placed in the role of interim head coach for the time being. Why the hell would one schedule a recruiting trip at this time of the year? She wonders, especially given how early it is. but what else she can do? Decline the offer? No such alternative exists in this very team, so coach Dana just sighs over it before grabbing her lunch.

Later that night, Dana comfortably rests in her sofa while working on a case report. In the following montages, we find out that coach Dana's known her boss for a very long time. She experiences brief flashbacks of her first meeting with much-younger Antoine back in Quebec City. It was already 14 years ago that they had first met, and she realises some changes within the coach the past couple of years she's moved. She wonders if this could possibly be due to the forced retirement of Ellie, family life or her worrying too much.

Throughout the rest of the week, we watch from the distance as she struggles to balance the heightened expectations as head coach. From dealing with administrative matters to keeping non-fencer rentals off the gym in practice hours, she deals with more tasks than she's ever had, on top of fulfilling the existing occupational duties in daytime. To keep up with the demand, she often phones coach Antoine and then contacts executive for the help, something that only reveals her weaknesses as an administrator. She may be a good coach, but not an administrator material, as have seen with the QIS eligibility rules and doping regulations. This catches the attention of coach Kim, who informs her that she may need to be more careful, for other coaches will not take it positively.

The episode ends when Coach Dana receives a call from coach Park, a good friend of coach Kim dating back to his Kirkenes days. When asked of why one is in need of calling, coach Park, much to her surprise, responds that he will be coming next week of a joint practice session with his team from Mount Ester University.

Quote of the Episode

"Like that Avalanche of hearts, thy emotions can be both dangerous and fatal. You need to walk off from this."

- Felix Yang, saying it to himself -

"I notice something different in her today. It is more than just a viewing.....the very vivid smell of coffee and walnut covering my mouth, as I look at the sight. What is it?"

- Jordan Salaberry -

What's happening with....

Felix

It looks like for once there'll be sunny days in the life of Felix.......but nope. That won't happen.

We start the entire episode by getting introduced to Felix's latest gaming habit, something that gets more noticeable and noticeable throughout the series: RLStates! The owner behind Kushleesi, a nation ruled by Sanskrit-speaking, dragon-riding stoners, he is busy typing up a roleplay on his laptop in the room at Chunnam Hall, when Andres knocks the door to see if Felix's still alive. Felix closes the room door and lets him in. Andres starts talking about this latest kegger he is planning to go this friday, just down the hallway, and asks if he's interested. Felix entertains the idea, but tells his friend to maybe wait a couple more days because he'll be occupied with a task.

Life proceeds like water for him. Philosophy and English classes he starts skipping, but the others (especially French) he makes sure not to miss a single lecture. He's still struggling in getting his arm and feet to move faster in practices but still tries his best, hoping to make some difference in the upcoming competitions at home, only 3 weeks away. He is still chilling with the floor and notices that he should maybe go after Tara, that floormate who only lives 3 doors away. Andres shrugs and tells him that maybe he should give it a try.

Sometime in middle of the week, Felix skypes his mother back in Kingston, talking about his new life in Kirkenes. He hears back from her that everybody in family misses him and that she will be looking forward to see everybody during thanksgiving. Once that's done, he goes back to play RLStates with Andres and Frederic, whom he has discovered as fellow nation-owners in 'Al-umrah' and 'San-Renee', before realising that he should maybe just chill with floor in common room. He leaves the laptop open, closes the door and leaves.

Unfortunately, that does not end well. The thursday starts perfectly perfectly for Felix, as he excels in both tutorials and then scores a couple of points against Alain, a huge achievement given how hard it is to score on 6'3, lanky bloke. Unfortunately this luck and achievement does not continue in rest of the saga, as the team sets up the wizard staff making competition as part of year-long floor alcolympics. He starts drinking and then after 6 cans (so like halfway) through realises that he has an interview. One takes a break, walks and eats some food before going to the student life centre for the interview. He does stumble but pulls through it all very well, and gets applauded for his delivery, before heading back to the residence hall. But then who knew that his temper could suddenly change from heaven to hell? Not me.

During the final stretch, he tries to woo her on a couple of occasions but struggles to say further words indicating his interest, as he finds himself stumbling in every can he consumes. Eventually, Andres' roommate, Ibrahim, tells him that she has no interest in him and that there's no point trying, enraging the 18-year old in a matter of seconds. Then, a BOOM! occurred, as he destroyed his almost-done wizard staff in 4 pieces. Tara's roommate, Ainsley, asks what is wrong, to which Felix responds, "Some things are better not said and better not committed", and leaves.

Frederic

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Jordan, Marianne and Nicolas

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What worked

• Excellent acting by the cast once again, as they saved the episode from being an absolute disappointment through their delivery and passion. Special shout-outs have to go to Georges Woo for depicting Felix Yang in emotional hinges and hyper-aggressive bursts this episode, especially durin the second half, and Sandra Aski as the much-overwhelmed, struggling interim in place of THE BOSS.

• Accuracy in meticular details of college life. Though the viewers take this for granted, this is something that is not easy to reenact in all of this series due to the merging of two eras (early 1970s of Philippe Ahn and early 2000s of Christopher Tsu-Ahn), with modern day adaptation. Bravo.

• Mysterious introduction of Coach Park. So far we've only had him introduced through mentions of a huge rival in his age for a couple of episodes, but not enough, so getting at least SOMETHING, even if it was newspaper article or a cryptic phone call, just added further intrigue into this character. As someone who's supposed to be based off Dr. Ahn's older self, most notably in his Gaspe days, I'll be looking forward to how this progresses. Hopefully they'll not fuck up.

• Music soundtrack's finally well-matched to the scenes! Good mix of music from traditional Korean music to electric dancehall music like the materials of JVG and Jubi-Jubi. Loved the choice, and it helped bringing the trance party mood going in the second half.

What didn't work

• Where did all the other characters go? We didn't get enough parts of Ellie and Marianne this episode, even though their parts the last episode were left on the cliffhanger the last episode, while Frederic got unnecessarily large part of action and to lesser extent Felix as well. With Felix it's forgivable because he's the character originally based off Philippe Ahn, but Frederic? Could have and should've given more time on the others of cast instead.

• Lots of holes in the plot development. We're not getting enough info about what had caused Felix to be interested in Tara and why we didn't get any update on his developing dangers with Thalia and interesting tensions with Marie. Felix Yang is not meant to be a character particularly driven by a singular sexual tension or thought, and only gets his interest triggered by a combination. The writer of this episode, I'm afraid, missed out on things like that and really downgraded the quality of this episode.

General Thoughts

"It's not a perfect episode. There were some key errors and missed details in all storylines. What made it worth watching was superb acting from the cast. From the emotional-driven, half-hinged actions of Georges Woo to the overwhelmed Sandra Aski, Varsity once again comes out on top with various dynamics of action by its cast to keep us watching. Hopefully the plot and character development on this episode will catch up with the rest for next episode though."

[Electrum]

Papers, Please - 20 teams remain. 10 will be eliminated. That is the harsh reality of the World Cup play-offs. Will your team be getting those elusive papers to Electrum and Ceni?

[Osarius]

((OOC: edited bit is in green for clarity))

Interlude: Parallel Fates

---

The Coach: Determined

Serenity Lewis sat in a strange position as head coach of the Osarian national team. Winning their qualifying group hadn't really been an option since losing to Barunia, but winning their playoff tie... entirely doable. A 2-2 draw in Devonta meant all her team had to do, realistically, was score at least once, and not let the opposition score more than once. Easier said than done, but this was Mount Crown Stadium. In the past thirty years, the national team had only lost a handful of games there. She was acutely aware of the nation's poor record in playoffs. Any important game, really, when she stopped to think about it; wasn't there an old gag about Osarius choking when it mattered? Winning a few AOCAFs and a couple of World Cups hadn't really silenced those jokes. Especially not after the catastrophic fall-off last cycle. Not even the Cup of Harmony wanted Osarius. Serenity shuddered just thinking about it. 'No idea how we fell so far,' she thought. 'But dammit I am going to do everything I can to pick us back up.'

This was where Serenity differentiated herself from her father, really. He didn't even consider the possibility of failure. Serenity knew it all too well. She didn't have an obsession with victory, but rather progress. It happened when you spent a long time working with developmental age players. Something she missed, in truth. The second leg, at Mount Crown Stadium, could turn out to be her final game in charge of the national team, and she knew it. She'd been down this road before as a player, she knew the pressure. She'd also been to the big show. She knew what was at stake.

Her pre-game team-talk was simple. "A few weeks ago, we presented a united front to the world. We all knelt in solidarity, we played our best game of the campaign. We won. We were, for one night, champions again." She paused. "For me, this might be the end. And I'm okay with that, win or lose. I just want to be able to say I did the best I could. Look at the Cobrio team playing exhibition matches. They're in a real struggle and you can see it in the way they play. That's not a football team fighting to win, that's an entire nation fighting to be recognised. We don't have that kind of pressure. But what if we did? We represent something even bigger than they do. We represent more people. We have an Aquillian born winger, we have several players of Cobre descent, we have Callisteans, Eristiceans, even a Kryosi probably. We are everyone. One game stands between us and the World Cup. One game between us and recovery, not just for Osarian football, but for all those people out there who look to us for representation."

Another pause. "Some people say it's unrealistic to see athletes as role models, and I agree. We have no obligation to be role models. But what if we do it because we want to?"

Daniele Gentile chipped in. "Well said, gaffer. This is about more than us."

The team rallied. There wasn't anything else she could really do. She had to leave it up to them. 'Over to you, guys...' She thought. 'Worst case scenario, I can go back to rebuilding our reputation from the ground up, I suppose. Dad would never have had the patience for that. Doubt he would have trusted this team to get the job done either...' For a brief moment, there was no serenity. Only chaos. A whirling vortex of doubt. But it passed as she emerged from the tunnel behind her players, glancing over her shoulder at a photograph. It was of her, at the very moment she scored the decisive penalty against Bears Armed that put Osarius into the World Cup finals for the first time, years ago. 'So this is where I make my last stand. Fitting.'

---

The Leader: Determined

Tukari knew that the plan to have a Cobre representative team play exhibition games had not gone down well in Cobrio, he knew he faced open rebellion at home when he returned. Baneni, the captain of his zabamince wadanda, had to convince him to continue his journey, in fact. "Sarki, you cannot turn back now. The people are angry, this much is true. But you must finish what you came to do. If you turn back now, the people may be angry for a while, but the enemy will know you are weak." The big man had said. "You cannot falter now. If you make them listen, maybe your people will understand your goal."

Despite that compelling argument and sound reasoning, Tukari's resolve had still been tested to its limits. "Support within Osarius is growing for our cause. You are right Baneni... we must capitalise on this now. We can only hope that the council can maintain some order at home until we return."

The last exhibition match had been held in Corriere, an area where less than three percent of the population had Cobre ethnicity. Tukari had noted the dwindling numbers of faces like his as his convoy approached the capital, and had expected the numbers who came out in support to change similarly. This had not happened. The actions taken by the Osarian national football team -- of which, approximately half had Cobre ethnic backgrounds -- had galvanised a movement of the people within Osarius. 'All that education, but it is only now that they see the truth.' Tukari mused. 'But I suppose this is to be expected from those educated in a system designed to deceive. It is difficult to see your teacher is wrong.'

The Cobrio representative eleven had picked up some bigger names en route to the capital, most notably the previously unpopular Evander Elliott and Kemar Fofana, both of whom played pivotal roles in the victory over Olympique Corriere in the exhibition match the previous day. Tukari had already received an approach from the football associations of Aquillian and Eristicea suggesting that Cobrio be granted an entry into the Rabastor Unity Trophy. He was flattered, but could not speak on the matter until after confronting the Osarians. "It is good to know you would welcome us as brothers and sisters, but I fear the Osarians do not feel the same way." Tukari had told them. "I have seen firsthand the uniting power of the game, and deeply believe in the principles of the tournament, but I will not send my people where they are unwelcome."

Those very words were used against him in news broadcasts, with some commenters questioning why he insisted on establishing a presence within Osarius -- as Cobrio was not an officially recognised state -- when it was clear that the crown and government did not agree with this course of action. In his speech before the match in Corriere, Tukari addressed this point. "It matters not whether Osarius welcomes us in Cobrio. Cobrio is our home, you can never be unwelcome in your own home." He went on to tie this to the safety of Cobre people within Osarius. "Nor should anyone ever feel unsafe at home. Yet here we stand. My brothers feel a need to shield me from would be assailants as I travel within the nation of my birth. Why? Because I speak up against those who would make them fear for my safety? Many of you here today will not share this fear. You should not have to. But remember, if they come for us, and we are born in the same lands as you... what makes you safe?"

There was to be one more exhibition match before the convoy arrived in Burningham, and politics aside, Tukari had noted a growing support for the team itself. They played a style that appealed to the Osarian fans, it seemed. Which was fitting. The style they played accurately reflected the Cobre people, he thought. Said as much to the players prior to a match in Fourge a couple of weeks ago. "The result is not important to me, as long as you are Cobre. As long as you contest the battle to the last, with honour, and heart. Let them fear the eleven of you as though they were facing the entire nation of Cobrio. Let them see what our nation stands for. We do not need to go to war, because we know we are mighty. Let them see." He had told them. They had won that match 6-1.

'One more game to win more hearts and minds.' Tukari thought. 'And then we strike.'

[Super-Llamaland]

CRACKS SHOWN IN REICHART'S NEW SYSTEM

Abanhfleft Cruises Past Llamaneans, Takes Commanding Lead

The Llamanean national team has debuted a new formation, a 4-4-2/4-2-4/4-2-3-1 mix, that has taken the nation by storm and been a main contributor to the Tigers' ten-match unbeaten streak (including a narrow win over Sameba and a nil-nil draw to Valladares) and their return to the playoffs for the first time since WC72. Still, critics note that the "unbeaten 4-2-4" has only showed up in three matches, only one of which should have been competitive, and the Tigers haven't looked fully confident in the new lineup.

The basic premise of Jurgen's attack-minded system is that Ansel Penbrooke's support striker (usually Felix Rasmussen) is a high-octane playmaking sort who can easily drop back to play CAM, while wingers Velasquez and Vorobyov can drop back to play midfield if necessary. The result is an athletic and highly flexible lineup. It's not just the front four, either. The flexibility of the front four allows Ethan Candelario and Nemanja Vesely to be at their best as a highly technical but defensive-minded midfielders without being obligated to drift forward and "bridge the gap" between a weak playmaking defense and a starved attack like past, unsuccessful iterations of the Tigers.

A sound premise, and so far it's yielded a 4-3 home win against Sameba, 2-0 away win against Amberian Islands, and 3-2 home win against Quakmybush - three matches, three wins, and nine goals scored. But last night's match against Abanhfleft was a different story.

The lineup was Reichart's apparent first-choice - Lucas Bernholm in goal, a back line of Lindberg, Ynoa, Reichart, and Sorenson, Candelario and Vesely the midfield pairing, Velasquez and Vorobyov on the wings, and Ansel Penbrooke supported by Rasmussen up front. But the Fleftics, playing their usual 3-5-2, quickly realized that they could dominate midfield. And, for ninety minutes, that's what they did, holding the Tigers scoreless and winning one-nil.

Eva Velasquez and Miroslav Vorobyov are fantastic players. But neither, especially not Vorobyov, is particularly well-suited to midfield play, both preferring to stay forwards and attack. This was not a tendency that served the Llamaneans well against Abanhfleft, despite Reichart's instructions for both to stay back, and Ethan Candelario and Nemanja Vesely found themselves overwhelmed. The Fleftics, solid as ever on the night, pushed forwards as Velasquez and Vorobyov both recognized the need to drop back but struggled to make an impact.

For a while, the defense kicked into overdrive and played arguably their finest match of the qualifiers. An offense that's scored twenty-seven goals in twelve matches this cycle was mostly held at bay, all four defenders managing to keep the Lady Revolutionaries mostly at bay. Even when they failed, Bernholm rose to the occasion, at one point blocking a shot from Stewart and then sprawling to deflect follow-ups from Singh and Torres.

It couldn't last forever. In the thirty-ninth minute, just as the Tigers started to gain momentum, Penbrooke's shot - just his second of the day - was easily stopped by Carter, who found Valentine. The lithe fullback took off, brushing past Vorobyov, and sent a devastating through-ball between Rasmussen and Vesely to Emma Torres, who turned to evade a sliding Ynoa and sent another pass that intersected with Stuart's perfectly-timed run. The Arsenal de Releinthi striker spun past Reichart and fired into the corner of the net, wheeling away to celebrate, while the Llamaneans tried to work out how their defense had collapsed so quickly.

Reichart made two substitutions at half-time - Jessica Chamberlain on for Vorobyov and Jason Santana for Rasmussen, aiming to shift the team into a more conventional 4-2-3-1 and bringing on Jason Santana for the ineffective Vesely. It managed to end the Fleftics' midfield dominance (although Abanhfleft still maintained ~60% possession), but at the cost of removing the more attack-minded Vorobyov and Rasmussen - possibly not the best strategy with the Tigers down by one goal and with zero away goals to their name.

Still, the Llamaneans managed to rally and push forwards.. With just fifteen minutes to play, Abanhfleft looked at its weakest of the game, and when late substitute Stefan Rinaldi (in for Candelario in a last-ditch attempt to find a goal) stripped Torres and found Chamberlain, who took off down the right wing and sent a looping pass to Ansel Penbrooke, who deftly trapped it, ran around Victoria Carter, and fired...into a sliding Bella Maynard, somehow, who knocked the ball away and into Carter's hands. The game was all but over after that, as a late substitution sparked Abanhfleft forwards and left the Llamaneans forced to drop back and defend for the remainder of the match.

A SAVAGE WAR OF PEACE - HOW THE UNION WAS MADE

Part V. Invaders

A Proclamation Regarding Recent Events in Super-Llamaland

CONCERNING the recent declaration of war by the Llamanean Union and closely-aligned Northern Republic of Hakifao, the government of the Second Republic of Vjaalsbürg, as well as its allies in Arondesheim, has no other choice but to defend the liberty of the Northern Isles through a moral defense of the northern islands. THEREFORE, the Vjaal government will raise an army to defend its territory by, if necessary, a draft. Additionally, the Vjaal government believes it fit to convene the National Legislature and National Cabinet for immediate meetings towards the war effort.

Signed,
ISAK STRAUSS - President of the Second Republic of Vjaalsbürg
AARON RASMUSSEN - Secretary of War

COMMUNIQUE TO THE HONORABLE EXECUTIVE COUNCIL OF THE

In light of recent events in Vjaalsbürg, it has become imperative that we increase the rate of our militarization. We have made great progress, but there are still enemies to Llamanean prosperity in the north, the east, the south, and even within our borders. I am confident that we may both strengthen our hold over Hicaña, Arcturus, and Hakifao and expand into the Eastern and Northern Islands.

We need to take immediate measures to
i) Combat spies within our borders while increasing espionage efforts abroad, particularly in Vjaalsbürg and Arondesheim.
ii) Increase the strength of our navy, which will prove essential in invasion efforts.
iii) Consolidate our control over Hicaña, including setting up a new government there.
iv) Capture the island of Arcturus, an Eirelian stronghold just miles off the Nikcoro shore.
v) Stop covert arms shipments between Vjaalsbürg and Eirelia.

Signed,
William Granveir
Honorable President of the Llamanean Union

By March 1977, the Llamanean Union had strengthened its hold over Hicaña, creating the Southern Isles Republic from its holdings in the island. Predictably enough, the Southern Isles Republic immediately demanded that the remainder of the former Republic of Hicaña, now confined to its capital of Keslapisces, surrender immediately. It had also, despite David Vanderwaal's protests, purchased the island of Arcturus from Eirelia and immediately cracked down on the small territory's vibrant democracy.

More importantly to Isak Strauss and the Vjaal government, though, was the arrival of the Llamanean fleet. The combined forces of the Arondic and Vjaal navy had been swiftly overwhelmed, and it took the constant vigilance of both army and navy just to keep the invaders off their shores. Already two landing attempts had been made - one in the Vjaal port city of Alshö, the other in the Arondic capital of Öslerholm. Both had been repelled, but at great costs to the navy.

David Vanderwaal's Eirelian Patriots continued to fight for Eirelia to resume arms shipments to Vjaalsbürg, but it felt a losing battle. Eirelia eventually authorized limited arms shipments, but when Vanderwaal suddenly died - the official report said that the forty-six-year-old had died of natural causes; Vjaalsbürg suspected differently. Still, mourning could wait - first, they had to make sure the arms shipment Vanderwaal had fought for actually made it through. Secretary of War Aaron Rasmussen, with the consent of a number of generals, authorized a convoy for the shipment. It would take soldiers away from the defense effort, but would prove worth it.

A report came in two hours later. The convoy hadn't even made it out of harbor. Sometime in the past day, the Llamaneans had managed to move the majority of their Arondic fleet to Vjaalsbürg without detection. Only scattered resistance remained on the other side of the blockade. Vjaalsbürg had already been cornered. But now it was completely encircled.

When the news reached Isak Strauss, the President took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. "Inform Arondesheim and ready our ships."
***
Captain Sebastian de Vries was pleased. The Eirelian had been informed of the Llamanean blockade, so he simply rerouted the ship for a small port in Arondesheim and safely landed. He'd already made plans to send for the Eirelian Ambassador to Arondesheim, and knew that it was likely that his actions, although simple and unheroic, would turn the tide of the war. He stepped outside and looked out at the city of Syedham.

Fifteen seconds later, he was shot in the stomach. By the time de Vries died, the next day, the ship had been captured. And the Llamanean Union had made its first successful landing in Alshö.
***

[Fluvique]

ONE STEP CLOSER

---

In three flashing, electrical, touching seconds, which burried ninety pale and grays minutes, of very low flight. It was a colossal maneuver, with trademark of its author, who made delicious the combo of liminations, punches, erros and nerves served before that sweet dessert. A unique appearance to break a mostly boring match. A huge goal of Sam Gonza in the 79' minute allowed Fluvique to defeat Frenline Delpha of the first leg of the play-offs and now will host them at Greencastle, in search of the ticket to the next World Cup.

After a week in which much was said about who should replace Nick Auze, Ricardo Carusso opted to line up André Villeneuve, last match's hero and trust in the same team which defeated Azrea, with Topolsky, Mhago and Escarrà in the midfield, while Gonza, Villeneuve and Di Angello were the attacking trident, relegating Fede to the bench once again. In front there was a team with a very clear premise: group people in the midfield to cut the football circuit of Fluvique, pressing Mhago and Gonza. Facing a intence pressure and physical friction to cut any attempt, Fluvique had troubles to find ways to break the lock. The White Foxes controlled the ball with pleasure in defence but, in the half of their own field, lacked of lucidity and suffered the overpopulation in few meters, having to throw long balls to reach the strikers.

However, the national side was who tried first. At 14 minutes, Mhago put a precise pass to the back ot the local defenders and Villeneuve's shot was saved with the goalkeeper. Seven minutes later, Gonza touched with Andre, who controlled the ball in the area the enought time to wait for the run of Di Angello. When the number seven passed alone through the defenders, the ball of Villeneuve went to him, but his shot found the left hand of the goalie. Next, Varelovsky, after a corner kick from the left of Di Angello, went kissing the left post.

Anyway, the insinuations became increasingly sporadic and what seemed a match controled by the tricolor side acquired a major complexity. Fluvique tried with centers and balls over the local area, but Frenline Delpha did the same. At 35', a free kick from the right was deflected by De La Mesea and Andy Paribas saved a header in the penalty box. At 45', after a corner kick, the ball was deflected and the shot from outside the area hit the crossbar, despite Andy's effort.

If the end of the first chapter had not been auspicious, the start of the second continued in the same syntony, with a blind team, crashing systematically in the midfield and falling in the local defensive funner. There were not spaces or free players. The man-marking over Sam Gonza was fierce and the number ten had to retrocede to the midfield to get the ball. Plus, the home side executed their script to perfection, generating many chances with centers. A striker jumped over all the Fluviquean defence in the first post, hit a corner from the left and his header went very clear to the crossbar.

To make matters worse, the defence of the Carusso's team gave no guarantees. Frenline Delpha warned and they began to attack the Fluviquean full backs. Thus, at 53', they went fast from defence, a pass behind the national midfielders leave a striker alone and the center flew from the right. The header forced a big effort of Andy Paribas.

The home side immediately demanded a penalty kick in a move in which Teo Calmwater was anticipated and went to the grass, trying to rectify his fault. The alarms began to sound increasingly intense and often, barely tempered by an attempt of Gonza, who at 59' received the ball in three quarters, neglected for the first time, took off two defenders and shot, but it went near the right post. At 66', the Fluviquean hearts at the stadium froze for a moment when a center from the right was deflected and Paribas had to give the maximum to send the ball to the corner with the fingertips.

For the final stretch, Carusso opted for Bernard Pullian and Ricky Bertens, who replaced André Villeneuve and Lucas Topolsky, both of poor performance. However, they did not helped to find the needed solutions and Fluvique, desperate, burned her last rounds with centers, well offset by the local defence, and a few attempts from outside the area.

The national side was navigating in that sea of confusion. Again was on the edfe of the ledge, when Frenline Delpha attacked the bad off defence at 86', a striker ran, shot and forced Paribas to crawl and save. Then came the magic man, who with a pass made forget, at least for a while, the poor 90' minutes of the national side. In the second minute of injury time, Gonza took the ball in the left. He ran in diagonal, avoiding kicks and defenders attempts, until the was close to the penalty arc and made an unstoppable shot that left nailed the home goalkeeper, shook the net and gave way to a victory to ignite the illusion.

Fluviquean fans explode in the stadium, in each sector in which they are. The shout comes from those located behind the goal defended heroically by Paribas in the second half. The players jump, celebrate, shake their shirts over their heads, while singing. They try to greet every tricolor supporter. Nobody wants to leave the stadium.

They were 96 minutes played with the heart of Escarrà to cross and cross, even when he was exhausted, to defend in the las three minutes of injury time. With the strides of Gabriel Varelovsky, who played a great match. With the fierceness that showed De la Mesea and Castanginnet. With the talent of Gonza and the speed of Di Angello. The figures of the team appeared in the decisive moment.

But that is history. Now it is time to think about Greencastle, in that game so many nights dreamed by these Fluviquean players. It will be the first chance to be in the World Cup, the search for the ticket to Electrum and Ceni, to cut the drought. But that will come in the future. Now is time to celebrate, at least for this night, after so many disappointments and sorrows.

---

Fluvique 1
GK 1 Andy Paribas
DF: 3 Gabriel Varelovsky
DF: 2 Rodrigo De la Mesea
DF: 13 Dennis Castanginnet
DF: 15 Teo Calmwater
MF: 8 Lucas Topolsky 65'(Ricky Bertens)
MF: 5 Henry Mhago
MF: 30 Hamilton Escarrà 57'
FW: 10 Sam Gonza (C) 90+3
FW: 23 André Villeneuve 70'(Bernard Pullian)
FW: 7 Paul Di Angello 90+5

Frenline Delpha 0

---

[Jeruselem]

Chloe Dallas in Chiata ...

This is Chloe Dallas for Naked News Jeruselem, we're in Chiata for our playoffs but a lot of teams are also deciding their fate in this World Cup. Which includes us of course.

Frenline Delpha hosted Fluvique but lost 1-0 giving that away goal to Fluvique. Advantage Fluvique in this round.
United States of Devonta hosted Osarius, and this time a draw for 2-2. Osarius have the advantage due to the away goal rule.
Bonesea hosted Damukuni, and another draw 1-1. Yes, advantage Damukuni for now.
Kaboomlandia hosted Eura and lost 1-0. So Eura are a goal up and it's an away goal.
San Llera hosted The Holy Empire ... losing 1-0 and giving the Holies the advantage.
Red Blackiland hosted Matthewsiania and beat them 1-0. One of those hosts won a game, finally.
Port Christopher hosted Eshan with an exciting 3-3 draw. Best game of the round, but Eshan have that away goal advantage from this.
Abanhfleft beat Super-Llamaland at home 1-0 so it's all up to Super-Llamaland to win and hope Abanhfleft don't score.
Anglatia hosted Royal Kingdom of Quebec, but crashed 4-2. If Quebec lose from here, there's no hope for them.

All the games, so close apart from Quebec's win which is good for them I guess.

That leaves us vs Chiata, which was a 1-1 draw. A result we don't mind but we would have prefered a win really. We really should have won but the Chiata keeper was pretty good today. It wasn't a pretty game with each side pretty much working out how each other operated. Both teams struggled to gain any advantage over each other as there was no room for error. Chiate knew conceding a goal would give Jeruselem the away goal rule advantage and tried to contain us. The referee didn't help matters being a bit picky today about fouls slowing both sides down.

Two disallowed goals didn't really help the tempers of the players either. Anyway, we go back home and play for our survival in the cup. At least we didn't lose. All the games in the playoff we pretty much close affairs, even a 2 goal advantage to Quebec is no guarantee of qualifying.

I encourage everyone to come our next game and get us over the line.

OK, I'm announcing the winner of the VIP tour to Naked News Jeruselem studio. We got flooded with entries, and picking a winner was hard. The winner is Ray Wilkins. We'll be contacting you officially we can arrange something. Ray even gets to spend the day to watch a show being made. And yes your girlfrient can come along too. I don't know why she wants to, maybe she wants a job there but hey she can have a go anyway.

There'll be another contest soon. OK some people ask we make full sized cut outs of our anchors to sell. We don't but then no really asks. Not sure it's a thing you want around if you're inviting someone to a date around to your place if you know what I mean.

[Red Blackiland]

Red Blackiland Sports and Off-topic Chronicles

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The fiancé

Players entrance at Red Glorious

---

Author : Mathias Gërdorffen

---

He arrived breathless at the office, looking around, scared.
- Look out the window if it is not around the corner - asked her friend.
- No one, I think he gave up.
The friend was tired of hearing the story: off the groom, his horn pain, which began to pursue the poor thing. There were calls in the middle of the night, car horns late at night, indistinct shapes in the dark, threatening notes ...
Now, he was going through the account. He had begun to follow the poor thing in broad daylight.
I had hysterical crises in full work. If the phone from his desk rang, I asked to whom was next meet. He lost weight. It got dark circles. The friend began to worry really.
No one had heard from her on vacation. When he returned, he seemed another person. The lively eyes, laugh at anything. Neither cared to answer the phone.
It was the friend who broke the news to everyone: the old boyfriend was seriously dating to marry even a high girl, a Barbie who loved the social columns. And he had dropped his foot.
- It seems that he told her a story that was dropped almost at the altar and the silly girl was sorry for him. You do not even know the guy will apply the largest gold-digger blow, marry for money, playing a confidence game ...

---

With a pretty short vantage in hands, time go to the decision

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Celebration of the team after the first, unique important goal of the night

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Red Blackiland 1-0 Matthewsiania - Leg 1

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Players entrance

After a game without much shine against New West Guiana, was the chance to shine and Red Blackiland take off in qualifying with a view to the World Cup. The mood was great, so that the only question of the fans who filled the Red Glorious was how would the score. Only they forgot to match Matthewsiania. The friendly country of exotic yellow flag and lilac, is growing on the world stage and made one of his best matches and held the draw until the second half stoppage time. But Red has Blackiland Carmona. In another brilliant move, the playmaker scored a great goal and decreed the narrow victory by 1-0.
Result shows that the team still has much to grow and evolve, much as has already been done and emphasizes the importance of Carmona, who until then had not created much. And that also came thanks to goalkeeper Hargreaves, who performed two miracles in the final stage and avoided a disaster. Now the team has the least advantage, quite tight and will have to secure the lead in Matthewsiania.

---

The game could not be different. It was almost a game of defense against attack with Red Blackiland looking to score in every way and Matthewsiania with its defensive profile is holding as he could. In the first half, an advantage for marking Matthewsiania. Tables, kicks from outside the area, crosses, free kicks. The local team tried everything but to no avail before the opposing boom.

Schwartz trying to break Matthewsianian defense

The unbelievable happened in the second stage. Matthewsiania went to the game and created the better opportunities. There were two clear chances, they stopped in great defenses Hargreaves goalkeeper. At the beginning of the second half, with the nervous team, Red Blackiland fumbled the attack and took little danger. In the final minutes, it was for all or nothing in a disorderly pressure, stopping at their lack of marksmanship and goalkeeper Edvan. Everything like lost when Carmona appeared to solve the game with a home run, giving a rush, taking the defenders Marcelinho Southerner and Overmars, in addition to the side Hawbiniana with dribbling and kicking in the left angle of Edvan, no chance for the goalkeeper.
Werdickley safadão created more opportunities than any attack Red Blackiland added. A lot of work on defense and not only left because consecrated goalkeeper Hargreaves avoided his goal with a great save. Ferreth was cast as owner to give more firepower to the Red Blackiland. The striker, however, just part of the game. When the ball arrived, he fumbled with it. He was replaced.

Werdickley Safadão rolls the ball
in the middle after RB first goal

The result seemed lost, all headed for the goalless draw. But give puerility before the number 10 Carmona is deadly. In the little room that had, Carmona tore the right, upping from outside the area without chances to Edvan. A beautiful goal. Valbuena moved the team from previous games and climbed a more offensive team with three strikers, one with half profile. Ferreth won vacancy among the members, alongside Carmona and Beckenstander. All to face the opposing boom, who served with his 11 athletes in their defense field. At times, the Matthewsiania team came to stand with all its athletes within the area. Now can Red Blackiland historically qualify to Matthewsiania?

---

Las Mafias I - Walkthrough

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Las Mafias I - Buy your game now!

---

Chapter/Mission 11 - Friendship is friendship and Bussiness is Bussiness

---

Deliz wakes up to someone at his door, and he's surprised when he sees it's Ricardo Perrón. Perrón asks if they can talk and invites Deliz to have a drink with him. As Deliz drives, Perrón discusses his situation and asks Deliz if there's any way he could put in a good word with the Matthewsianian Family and get him a job working for them. Deliz agrees and takes Perrón to meet Juliano at Cédric Gourmet House.
Along the way they discuss the destruction of the Guayabalense family and the death of Don Guillermo Sanchez. When Perrón asks Deliz and Tejeda had anything to do with it, Deliz will only say that they were taking care of something for their boss that day. Perrón then suggests that he wear a better disguise next time because he saw the two from a mile away.
While speaking with Juliano, Deliz learns that the Quebec Family is planning to make a move on the Matthewsianian Family, but Juliano doesn't know their exact plan. Deliz asks if they are planning to go after the rest of Sanchez's men, and Juliano says that unless they try something stupid, has no immediate plans to. Knowing that, Deliz asks Juliano if he would be interested in having Perrón work for them.
Deliz makes the introductions and Juliano immediately asks if Perrón is aware of any plans Sanchez and -- had against the Matthewsianian Family. Perrón describes a conversation he overheard between Manuel Vallado and Pedro Quinteros where Vallado was trying to turn Quebec Family against Cédric, mentioning how he was involved in some dirty business and how something should be done about it. Knowing Ku-Sang Jeon (the don of Quebec Family) and the family itself is against drugs explains why they're planning a move on them.
Juliano decides they need to hit Ku-Sang first by getting rid of Pedro Quinteros, the consigliere of Quebec Family. He explains to Deliz that he wanted to keep him out of it, but he had nobody else who can pull the job off; however, with Perrón now in the picture, it would be an excellent chance for him to prove himself to the Matthewsianian Family. Juliano asks if Deliz will go along and make sure it goes smoothly, but Deliz turns him down, explaining that Quinteros was like a father to him in prison.
Juliano understands and tells Perrón he's on his own with this one and that he can hire some help if he needs it, but the job has to be done that day. Perrón reassures Juliano it will be and leaves the bar to take care of it, after which Juliano tells Deliz he has nothing else for him and asks that he drop by the next day. As he leaves the bar Deliz decides he needs to warn Quinteros about the hit, so he rushes to Quintero's house, where he finds him still dressed in his pajamas and acting confused. After some conversation, Deliz gets Quinteros out of the house and drives him to the train station while they talk about the shady business Cédric is involved in and Quintero's plans to settle his affairs in the city of Moncada before he heads off to retire someplace warm.
After dropping Quinteros off, Deliz heads home to find his sister Manuela waiting for him. She tells Deliz that she's having troubles with her husband Nicolás and she's tired of his constant drinking and cheating behind her back. After being pressed, she admits he occasionally hits her as well. She begs Deliz not to hurt him, as she just wants him to talk to Nicolás and make him straighten up.
Deliz finds Nicolás partying at a friend's apartment and confronts him about how he's treating Manuela. The two end up fighting, but he's no match for Deliz. After knocking him down a couple times Deliz tells Nicolás that he needs to start treating his wife better and stop all the partying and cheating, and if he ever hits her again he'll come back and kill him.
Later that day Manuela calls Deliz to tell him Nicolás apologized and everything is better now. She asks Deliz to leave him alone and he agrees, adding in that if Nicolás ever touches her again he'll kill him. This upsets Manuela, who states that she doesn't know Deliz anymore and tells him to stay away from her and Nicolás from now on. As Deliz sleeps that night the Verano's gang shows up and sets fire to his house. The place goes up quickly, and with no time to even get dressed, Deliz jumps out of the window and runs away as the gang opens fire on him. With nowhere else to turn, he goes to see Tejeda. After Tejeda shows off his apartment's new decor, Deliz explains what happened. Tejeda makes a few phone calls and gives Deliz a change of clothes, then the two head out to deal with the Cenian-Guayabalenses at the Heart of Claws, the gang's hangout in Albocity.

Verano's gang guys at Deliz house

He learns that the gang is now run by Maximiliano Gastón, but there are others who want to take over so to show he means business he's going after Deliz as revenge for killing the gang's former leader Carlos Verano when he was in prison. They arrive at the bar and take out the remaining members of the gang, but Gastón escapes out the back and Deliz and Tejeda have to chase after him.
With his house, money, and all other possessions gone, Deliz asks if he can stay at Tejeda's apartment, but instead Tejeda gives him the keys of Verdickley's apartment and tells him he can stay there for a while. Deliz is upset that he's lost everything he's ever worked for, so Tejeda tries to comfort him by saying that business is good and he can make it all back soon enough, which is little comfort to Deliz. When Deliz sees how much of a dump the apartment is, his only wish is that he had enough money for a hotel.

---

Walkthrough - Mechanics and Turorials

---

Get dressed and go outside to meet with Ricardo Perrón. He will suggest you take his car, but feel free to take your own, as it will be useful later on. As you drive Perrón will explain his situation and talk about the hit on Guillermo Sanchéz. When you get to Cédric Gourmet House, head inside and hear Juliano's plan to go after the Quebec Family by killing Pedro Quinteros. When the cutscene ends, go outside and get in your car, or steal one if you took Perrón's, then get to the Quinteros Residence before the timer runs out.
Once you arrive at the place, you have a few options. There are two magazine here that you have to get now, but getting them and the Hero Backup achievement means you'll have to be quick with this next part. When the cutscene ends go through the door on your left then straight down the hall, and on the window sill you will find another magazine. Now go through the door ahead into a bedroom, turn right and go through another door, then left through one more, and you will see another magazine on top of a wicker basket. Now turn around, and immediately across from that bathroom is a round wicker hamper; upon approaching it you should get a prompt to "Take the sheets". Doing this will begin a cutscene where Deliz and Quinteros climb down the sheets to the ground below, earning you the Hero Backup achievement. When that scene ends you will be in Quinteros' car at the end of his driveway. Now just drive to the train station and drop him off, then head home.
Alternatively you can try to hide from Perrón. There are several places you can do this, under a bed, in the shower, in a closet or if you wait too long Perrón will just catch you. All of these will have various results, from a mission failure after Deliz and Quinteros are killed by Perrón to a cutscene where he talks to them both and eventually lets them go. You can reload as many times as you want to try all the available options because the game doesn't save again until Deliz drops Quinteros off at the train station.
When you get back to your home, Manuela will be sitting on the porch waiting for him; once the cutscene ends follow the map marker to the Deliz Family Apartment. Once inside first enter the bedroom to find a magazine next to a guy on the floor. Now go into the kitchen to deal with Nicolás, and there will be a short fistfight. Once that's over head back to Deliz's house, answer the phone call from Manuela, and then go to bed.
Once the cutscene of the Verano's gang setting fire to Deliz's house ends, go over to the window and jump out. You'll be outside with no clothes, weapons, or access to your vehicles, so run through the neighbor's yards while avoiding their fire until you find a vehicle to steal, then head to Tejeda's apartment. Once you arrive and Tejeda shows off his apartment's new look, go over to the bed and you'll find another magazine.
After Tejeda makes his phone call, head outside and drive to the Heart of Claws bar in Albocity. After you enter and the cutscene ends, take out the gang members inside. Now go through the swinging saloon doors next to the bar and you'll find a magazine, lying on the floor against the back wall, then head outside to take care of Maximiliano Gastón.

Deliz' new place

This part is optional and depends on the player's actions. You can try to kill him right away by shooting him or the gas tank of his car before he drives off. If that doesn't work you can get in your car and chase after him, letting Tejeda shoot him, or else you can run him off the road and kill him there. Once he's dead you will receive an achievement. If you don't catch him he will get away, but this has no major effect on the mission. Once you've dealt with the Verano's gang and dropped Tejeda off at home, follow your map to your new place, Phillipe Verdickley's apartment in Vladibay and use the bed to end the mission and get the final achievement of the chapter.

[Abanhfleft]

Lex Talionis, Part Twelve

Stepanenko Settlement, Stepanenko Island, Denisovskaya Islands
20 miles off the coast of Pridnestrovia

The Denisovskaya Islands were a small chain of about twenty or so islands which lay equidistant between the nations of Pridnestrovia and Szavoda. There was nothing to be gained in claiming these islands of rock, sand, and coral as there were literally no natural resources whatsoever to be found in them, but still Pridnestrovia and Szavoda continue to claim these islands for themselves.

Tensions between the two nations over the archipelago started over fifty years ago when a platoon of Pridnestrovian soldiers landed on the biggest island in the chain, then known just as Big Island, and raised the flag of Pridnestrovia over the island’s highest point, a hill near the middle of the island that barely rose ten meters above the rest. Szavoda responded by landing a platoon of its own on the second-largest island and occupying it. There were no further landings on the other islands of the Denisovskayas after that, but both sides consolidated the gains that they had during that brief period. Szavoda established a permanent military base with an army barracks, a naval port, and a single airstrip on their island, which they called Fort Nemanja Milic after a prominent politician or general of theirs, Pridnestrovians couldn’t be really sure. Pridnestrovia also built an army fortification on Big Island, which was subsequently renamed Stepanenko Island when Field Marshal Stepan Stepanovich Stepanenko took over Pridnestrovia. And as part of his new propaganda machine, Stepanenko ordered the construction of a town on the island, but this town was not meant for habitation. Rather, it was a political device showing that Pridnestrovia was so confident of its hold over Stepanenko Island that it was sending some of its own citizens to live there. As usual, the settlement was also named Stepanenko.

But recently, some people did begin living in Stepanenko Settlement. They weren’t Pridnestrovian nationals, though; rather, they were actually from the Nordskanian Democratic People’s Republic, an erstwhile ally of the Democratic People’s Republic of the United Socialist States of Pridnestrovia. And they weren’t even supposed to be there in the first place; Pridnestrovia had been “forced” to give up its treaties and alliances with Nordskania following a treaty between Pridnestrovia and Abanhfleft. But still, these Nordskanians were living in the propaganda village, and they were being lodged there by a Pridnestrovian colonel general named Genrikh Pavlovich Kustodiyev.

Everyone in Pridnestrovia knew that Genrikh Kustodiyev, despite being a colonel general of the Pridnestrovian Army, did not enjoy the trust of President-for-Life Field Marshal Stepan Stepanovich Stepanenko. He only got his high rank by virtue of being the husband of Stepanenko’s sister Maria Stepanovna Stepanenko. Kustodiyev certainly didn’t get to be a general officer on merit alone; he wasn’t even fit to be a colonel, let alone a colonel general, and that was why he was not a part of Stepanenko’s inner circle despite his high rank. It wasn’t that he was stupid; rather, his ambitions were a bit too much for his skills.

Secretly, though, Genrikh Kustodiyev wanted to be more than just a cog in the massive apparatus that was the Pridnestrovian bureaucracy. He wanted to be president. At first, he had wanted to be president by overthrowing Stepanenko, but once he saw how the people of Pridnestrovia had been made totally devoted to the President-for-Life, he knew that deposing Stepanenko would be an impossible task. So he settled instead to become a kingmaker, someone who had the power to get someone else into power. And he didn’t want to be a kingmaker in Pridnestrovia; no, he wanted to be a kingmaker in foreign places.

Genrikh Kustodiyev hadn’t been expecting to receive a call from an old friend, Vasily Zharkov, asking him for some assistance, but when Zharkov made the call, Kustodiyev saw this as his chance to become a kingmaker. Zharkov, who was the dictator of the Nordskanian DPR, was in trouble after the anarchist revolution in the north of his country had spread to the territory that he still controlled through the Rose Rebellion, and he needed a place in which to stay and watch the chaos in his country unfold while he worked on his big return. Kustodiyev could provide shelter for Zharkov and even provide him with “assistance” and “aid”, in direct contravention of the Treaty of Politovskaya between Pridnestrovia and Abanhfleft, once Zharkov believed that he was ready to take back the entirety of Nordskania. Kustodiyev could even give up all pretense of supporting Stepanenko and ask for a position in Zharkov’s new government.

But where could Kustodiyev possibly stash Zharkov away from the prying eyes of the KGB, the GRU, and the MVD? The answer to that question, it turned out, was the propaganda settlement in the Denisovskaya Islands. By now, everyone had acknowledged, albeit not officially, that no one lived in Stepanenko Settlement. All Kustodiyev needed to do was make at least one house in the fake village actually habitable and he could stash Zharkov there. So Kustodiyev made a personal inspection of the propaganda village a few months ago and then secretly ordered that the mayor’s villa, a hollow box made to look like a beach house, be made into an actual structure fit for human habitation. Then it was just a matter of getting Zharkov from Nordskania to the Denisovskayas and no one would be the wiser.

But as it turned out, there were people aside from Kustodiyev who knew that he was harboring a fugitive in the Denisovskaya Islands. The Committee for State Security (KGB), the Ministry of Internal Affairs (MVD), and the Military Intelligence Directorate (GRU) all had suspicions as to Kustodiyev’s true allegiances and so kept the general under constant surveillance. Because Kustodiyev was a general in the Pridnestrovian Army, most of the work was being carried out by the GRU, which was now mostly responsible for spying on its own soldiers, sailors, and aviators now that its mission had been drastically curtailed by the Treaty of Politovskaya.

Thus it was the GRU that first found out about Kustodiyev’s personal inspection of Stepanenko Settlement and his secret orders to refurbish the mayor’s house. Major General Boris Faddeyevich Birsakov then assigned a small team of four handpicked GRU agents to infiltrate the settlement and attached secret cameras and hidden microphones to every corner of the new beach house to spy on whoever Kustodiyev was going to meet there. The GRU agents then set up camp in the nearby shell of a fake house and began their surveillance.

To their surprise, it was Vasily Zharkov of the Nordskanian DPR, accompanied by a few select cronies, who arrived in the beach house a few days ago. The GRU agents had been expecting Kustodiyev to be meeting with fellow Pridnestrovians and plotting whatever secret plots there were to be plotted, but certainly they were not expecting Kustodiyev to be providing shelter to their “former” allies the Nordskanians. And more surprises were about to come their way too tonight.

Junior Lieutenant Olga Titovna Grisenko was manning the cameras tonight. In front of her was a large flat-screen monitor divided into nine windows showing every corner of the mayor’s beach house in Stepanenko Settlement, or Zharkov’s Villa as they were beginning to call it. As the lowest-ranking member in General Birsakov’s handpicked team to spy on Kustodiyev’s guests, the duty had been dropped on her by her superiors, but she was still going to do it to the best of her ability, never mind the fact that she had been given the duty of surveilling Zharkov on the night of the Pridnestrovian Super Cup, which was being contested by the two Tiraspol teams (Sheriff and CSKA). Like everyone else in the Army, she supported CSKA Tiraspol and wanted to see the Red Army triumph over their rivals Sheriff, but she had to watch the cameras pointed to Zharkov instead because she was just a junior lieutenant.

But all thoughts of watching the Tiraspol derby vanished when Grisenko noticed that Zharkov had a visitor. “Looks like Comrade Zharkov has some company tonight,” she muttered as she selected the camera showing Zharkov sitting in the middle of the beach house’s inner sanctum and zoomed in on the newcomer. “Comrade Captain, I think you should see this,” she called out.

Major Grigoriy Dmitriyevich Umalin was, at 34 years old, a little young to be a captain in the Pridnestrovian Army. This wasn’t to say that Umalin didn’t deserve his rank; he did, for being a major suited him very well. And he had a smart and fine mind which had made GRU recruit him as soon as he had graduated from Officer Candidate School as an agent.

“What is it, Comrade Lieutenant?” he asked as he accepted the headphones handed to him by Grisenko and settled them over his ears.

“Comrade Zharkov has a new guest, Comrade Major,” Grisenko replied.

“So he has,” Umalin said as he looked at the monitor showing the face of the new arrival. “I think I recognize her,” he said.

“Really, Comrade Major?” Grisenko asked with a little skepticism.

“Yes, Comrade Lieutenant, really,” Umalin replied. “That’s Darya Zharkov, Comrade Zharkov’s daughter. I met her when I was an advisor to the Nordskanian Army a few years ago. She’s a nice girl, if a bit of a rebel against her Communist father. I heard rumors that she had been sent to a political re-education camp some time ago and was supposed to have died there. Apparently, those rumors are false. Now quiet down! I think they’re talking.”

“Well, this is an awkward reunion, isn’t it?” Darya Zharkov asked her father. “Last time we met, you shot me in the gut and left me for dead.”

“Are you recording this, Olga Titovna?” Umalin asked. He was one of a new generation of officers which were less formal with the people under them, hence his tendency to refer to his personnel by their names rather than their ranks sometimes.

“Of course, Comrade Major,” Grisenko replied. She, being a lieutenant, didn’t have the same freedom of expression as Major Umalin did. “Everything is being recorded as we speak.”

“Good, good,” Umalin said. “I have a feeling that this will be a very important conversation. Andropov! Shevtsova! Forget about the Super Cup for a moment and come over here. I need you both.”

“What’s the matter, Grisha?” Captain Mstislav Vladimirovich Andropov asked as he went into the other room. He and Umalin were friends, graduating from the same batch in college and Officer Candidate School, and he therefore had the privilege of calling his commanding officer by his nickname. “What could possibly be more important than the Tiraspol derby? And just as our new signing, that Anglatian gangster Hollis, was about to score.”

“Nobody’s ever proven that Hollis is an Anglatian gangster,” Senior Lieutenant Dmitriya Sergeyevna Shevtsova retorted, referring to CSKA’s new signing, Seth Hollis of Anglatia, who was a suspected member of a gang known only as “The Crows”. “But he certainly does look the type. And Bathgate let him go to us on a free transfer, no questions asked, so that’s another thing going against him.”

“Listen to this, Slava,” Umalin said in a tone which suggested that he was serious right now and wasn’t in a mood to joke around. “And you too, Dmitriya. I think we’re hearing evidence that the Rose Rebellion in Nordskania is nothing more than a very big sham.”

“I want a new deal,” Darya Zharkov said. “The current arrangement is no longer satisfactory. I want to tear down the Communist Party and rebuild it from the ground up.”

“Those words could get her in front of a firing squad if the wrong ears hear it,” Andropov muttered.

“You’ll die in the first week of your rule,” Vasily Zharkov told his daughter. “Inheritance is only valid if those under you recognize it, Darya. The Roses will see you as a traitor, the loyalists won’t support your coup, and the People’s Army will see this as a prime chance to capture the leadership.”

“I have friends who can help,” Darya replied. “You should know that I have new connections now. I have connections with the Maslev Cartel. They’ll support whoever I tell them to, meaning that I can arm my own forces if needed. I don’t need to rely on a Rose movement that could turn on me as soon as things go wrong, which you said would happen.”

“That’s saying something,” Andropov muttered again. “Last time I checked, the Nordskanian People’s Army has about two million guns and counting, although the anarchist revolution in their north may have messed up that number somewhat.”

“Mstislav Vladimirovich, must you comment on everything that Zharkov and his daughter says?” Umalin asked.

“Quiet!” Grisenko said. “Darya Zharkov is talking about the Maslev Cartel!”

“The Maslev Cartel?” Shevtsova repeated. “Aren’t they the guys from Nordskania giving the MVD all that trouble recently in the port cities?”

“I daresay that a cartel is the least of our worries right now,” Umalin said to put an end to the conversation.

“The Maslev Cartel is a real wild card,” Darya continued. “Not only do they have tons of guns, but they have connections with the Crows, from Anglatia. They have plans to take over in South Valeria, and there’s a faction of the Crows that may take power in that gang and support us because of their connections. I know better than anyone that the streets are where a revolution starts. You see, I don’t plan on keeping around everyone from the old Communist Party. I plan on burning the whole damn thing to the ground and rebuilding it with my own people, as a right winged party. And I’m going to turn street thugs into my army. You saw how well that worked with the Roses.”

“Darya, this is all well and good and very interesting,” Vas Zharkov said, cutting off his daughter. “But let me remind you to stick with the Blues for now. Right now, the people of Nordskania think that you are Roseanne, leader of the Blue Rose Movement. What do you think would they do to you if you suddenly appear in the middle of the Communist Party and declare that you are remaking it in your own image? You’re better off sticking with the Blue Roses for now, Darya. It’s such a shame that we’re fighting for opposite sides. You would have made a great apparatchik.”

Their conversation continued for a few more minutes concerning more mundane matters until Darya finally left the room. The four GRU agents eavesdropping on the Zharkovs went silent as they took off their headphones and contemplated what they had just heard.

“What great company Comrade General Kustodiyev keeps,” Andropov said, breaking the uneasy silence that had settled over them all. “His friend is using his own daughter to create a rebellion in his country so he can make some kind of grand return, only for his daughter to want to carve a path of her own, and now she’s linked up with gangs and cartels to achieve her own goals. I wonder how they could even keep their stories straight.”

“And to think that we were expecting Kustodiyev to be planning treason against the Republic,” Shevtsova added. “I honestly don’t know if this is better or worse than that.”

“Are we going to tell this to General Birsakov, Major?” Grisenko asked Umalin.

“Of course we’re going to tell Birsakov,” Umalin replied. “That’s what he ordered us to do here, isn’t it? We’re to report on everything that Kustodiyev and his guests are talking about.”

“So it’s settled then,” Andropov said, standing up. “You’re going to report this to General Birsakov. That’s good. I’d love to be back in Tiraspol after three days in this cold shell of a house.”

“Not, Slava, not just me. You, me, Dmitriya, and Olga are all going to report this to General Birsakov.”

“All right, fine, we’re going to report to the general. Now can I get back to the Tiraspol derby Super Cup? I don’t like it that one of our star players is a gangster, but he’s still one of our own, and that’s good enough for me.”

“And I think I need to use the bathroom,” Shevtsova said, quickly standing up and walking to the portable restroom that they had had to bring over from the nearby Army base. She locked the door and then she took out her cellphone and called a number. Once the person at the other end had picked up, she told them, in fluent and accent-less Fleftic, “You guys need to know something. The Crows and the Maslev Cartel have made a deal to go against the Huesca Cartel together.”

[Anglatia]

One Last Time

Chapter Three: Six Forty Five In Eastport

Blaze Chrzanowska wanted to get away from everything. She wanted to get away from her club teammate, from her ex boyfriend, from her mentor and hero that kept trying to make them get back together, and from every demanding fan that expected her to make the World Cup squad and the senior team back at Rosenpfelblatz. She didn’t know, as she was walking through the park in Lane, that her quest to get away from everything would lead her into more trouble than she could ever imagine.

“Hey, Blaze!” someone shouted at her, and she turned around and wondered who the voice belonged to. She couldn’t have gotten recognized already, could she? The voice didn’t have a Western Anglatian accent. No, the accent was Slavic, like the speaker was from her hometown.

“Huh?” she muttered, and then she saw the man in the black leather jacket, who was holding a long knife. The shoulder of the jacket had a six sided star patch, and she realized who she was dealing with. A member of the Crows. They were still trying to cover over the murder of Ajay Oyekan to clear the name of Joanna Danicic, and to do that, they had been trying to force Blaze to give a false admission of guilt. Now that she was alone, they had a good chance to take her away and threaten her until she did just that.

“Don’t panic. I’m not here to cause you harm… Not directly, anyway. I just want to take you back to Otavice, where my friends can get an admission of guilt from you,” said the man, spinning the knife in his hand. “Don’t make this hard by running. There’s more of us here, and you won’t get away.”

“Leave me alone. You’re not going to get me to admit to something I never did,” Blaze said fiercely, backing away slowly as the man continued towards her. “And you’re bluffing. You couldn’t have known-”

“Slobo sends his regards!” shouted a female voice, and a silenced gunshot rang out through the park. The Crow dropped to the ground, and someone stepped out from the trees and scanned the area for more of them before turning her sights to Blaze and holstering her pistol, before covering the holster over with a long shirt. Gun control was much stricter in Anglatia than in its outer colonies, and it wasn’t wise to get caught with a holster showing. “Come on, Blaze. My name is Danica, and you’re under my protection for now. Slobo is going to have my head if I don’t take you to Bathgate safely, and so I intend to make sure that nothing happens to you.”

Blaze was frozen in fear, after the man in front of her had been killed so suddenly. She thought about running, but Danica didn’t look like she was an enemy. She was mentioning Slobo Vulovic, a prominent Crow, but she had killed the man to keep her safe. What was going on? “Why are you protecting me if you work for the Vulovic family? Slobo’s dad is the one who wants to protect Joanna by sending me to jail instead.”

“Let’s just say that there’s some family conflict, and Slobo wants Joanna in prison because she’s… Quite important in the gang,” explained Danica, starting to walk past Blaze. Blaze ran after her, as the dark haired woman in her mid twenties looked around for anyone who could potentially be hostile. “Dmitri’s side is the Crows, but we call ourselves the Ravens. And because it hurts the Crows, we’re going to keep you safe until after the trial in a few weeks.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Blaze managed to say, feeling sick from the danger. It wasn’t that she couldn’t handle seeing someone die. She’d grown up in the slums, a place where death was around every corner. But she couldn’t help but feel that one wrong move would have led to her being dead instead of her attacker.

Danica took her to the road that ran through the park, and climbed into the back seat of a sea blue lowrider that was being driven by two men that looked like Crows thugs. Apparently, they weren’t Crows, but actually Ravens. “Where are we heading now?” asked the driver, in Jugoskanian.

“Get on the road to Eastport,” ordered Danica. “I know they’re tailing this car, so we’ll switch into something that blends in more. This thing is almost out of gas anyway, and I’m not confident in stopping at a gas station that might get shot up as soon as we pull up.”

“Shouldn’t we steal our car first and then go to Eastport?”

“Not unless you want to deal with the cops and the Crows… This ain’t Valeria, we don’t own the police in Anglatia,” said Danica, and then chaos broke out. Bullets began flying, as automatic rifle fire went into the side of the car. The riflemen were running from another part of the park, hiding behind bushes and trees, and they caught everyone by surprise.

“Fuck!” shouted the man in the passenger’s seat, and he cocked a revolver and rolled the window down, returning fire while the driver pulled out of the parking spot and accelerated down the road. The road wasn’t that wide, making navigating it even harder as the driver tried to avoid the gunfire, and motorcycle engines could be heard approaching them from the back.

Blaze had pulled her phone out, and she was calling Isa. “Where are you? I’m at the park, and everything’s gone crazy. The Crows are here, and I just got rescued by a group of Crows who are against the main group, and they’re shooting at each other. The first group wants to kidnap me and the second group wants to protect me, but we’re getting chased by motorcycles-”

“Speak slower, Blaze. I can hardly understand you. Where are you, exactly?”

“I don’t know! Somewhere in the Lane Park. The woman who rescued me says that we’re going on the road to Eastport. It’s hard to speak slow when I’m on the verge of a panic attack,” snapped Blaze. “Look, I think I might die if I don’t get out of here. Are you in Marco still in town?”

“Of course,” said Isa. “But how are we supposed to help you? You need to call the cops.”

“You don’t get it, Isa! I might be dead before they show up! I need you to rescue me from these people, they mean well but they’re going to get me killed!” Blaze said, and she was on the verge of tears as more gunfire rang out. “Look for a blue lowrider with bullet holes all over the righthand doors.”

As Isa was about to reply, Danica grabbed Blaze’s phone and ended the call. “Are you fucking insane? Your friend is going to call the cops, who will arrest all of us. We’re gonna go to jail on kidnapping charges, and the Crows are going to kidnap you for real as soon as you walk free. You have to stay with us, even if it’s dangerous.”

“At least I won’t be dead if the Crows get me!” Blaze shouted, her face burning red with emotion. The glass behind them cracked, and she pointed to it to prove her point. “They’re everywhere and there’s only four of us. We’re doomed like this.”

“They aren’t everywhere until we get to Bathgate, but we have a safe house outside of the city. They won’t touch a single hair on your head, Blaze. I promised my boss that you would be taken there safely, and I always keep my word.”

Blaze was having a panic attack by now, as she remembered her first encounter with the Crows. She remembered bleeding out in the street, being near death before she had been found and brought to the hospital. She remembered losing a friend in that same incident, all because she belonged to the Bay Mafia at the time, a gang that had been a rival of the Crows in the past. Now, she had a feeling that she would end up in the hospital again, but she wasn’t confident that she would survive this time. She was pulled out of her panic when Danica reached under her shirt and handed her a combat pistol. “You may need this.”

“This is too fucking crazy,” Blaze muttered, and then one of the motorcycles managed to drive side by side with them. One person drove and one person was holding an SMG, but Danica used her own revolver to shoot through the open window and take out the gunner before he could fire a single bullet. She also returned fire through the hole in the back window, before reloading with ammo that had been stashed under the driver’s seat.

“We lost em, for now. Let’s get the hell out of Lane before they regroup and come after us again,” Danica said, and the car sped up and they left the park and got onto the main road, while sirens approached from the distance. “I’m sorry that things happened so messily, Blaze. But at least you’re safe with us.”

She didn’t feel very safe. “Yeah, whatever. I feel anything but safe, but thanks again for saving me from that thug back in the park. Now, if there’s no more gunfights about to happen, I think I just want to catch some sleep.”

=====

“What do you mean the Crows are after her? They have no influence in Lane,” said Marco Saint Paul, sounding skeptical as Isa Tangemen explained to him that Blaze had just been kidnapped to protect her from the Crows. “And she’s a Bay Mafia member. They’re allies with the Crows. Are you sure she saw everything right?”

“I trust her, Marco. If she thinks it’s the Crows, then I believe her. She said they’re headed to Eastport, we need to get on the highway and see if we can help her,” Isa said, and Marco sighed and held his head in frustration. They were sitting in traffic, and they had only just gotten the call from Blaze.

“Wait, what’s going on?” asked Marfa from the back seat. “What happened to Blaze, and why are the Crows involved?”

“Long story short, they really want to frame her for murder because they need to clear the name of one of their members. I’m supposed to testify in that trial, actually, and I have some friends in Underfell digging for more evidence to help her, but they don’t know that yet. They want to force her to give an admission of guilt, so they must have followed her here,” Isa explained, before sighing. “As soon as she left, they tried to kidnap her, but she got rescued by a rogue group of Crows. I don’t know any more details other than that they’re on their way to Eastport.”

Marfa looked concerned for her club teammate, but tried to keep calm. She was thinking in the back of her mind that if the Crows had followed Blaze, they were also following the SUV. “Wait, didn’t we just find out that Blaze is with the White Nation? Aren’t they buddies with the Crows?”

Marco shook his head. “They’re both extreme right wing groups, but White Nation isn’t religious. They just have mutual enemies, in the form of ethnic minorities that they think will destroy their homelands. The Crows are a special kind of crazy. They’re Orthodox, and they promote their brand of the religion and they fight with other Christians as heretics. That puts them at odds with many Valerians. Besides, White Nation is a street gang. The Crows are a cartel. They’d never be friends.”

Marco pulled onto the highway, and they got on the lane that was heading out of the city and towards the northern port city of Eastport. “So who are we rescuing her from? The Crows, or…?”


“I don’t know, all she said was that she’s getting kidnapped by some of them,” Isa said. “For some reason, her kidnappers did it to protect her from the rest of the gang. We’re closer to Eastport, so I’m hoping we can get there first and chase them down since there’s only one highway heading in from this direction.”

“You should never have let her leave,” said a fourth voice, that only Isa could hear. Cara. “You wouldn’t be rescuing her if you didn’t screw up and let her go.”

Isa ignored the voice, but she looked back and saw Cara in the back seat next to Marfa. She knew she wasn’t really there, but it was still hard not to reply. “Just because you ignore me, doesn’t mean I’m not here,” Cara remarked. That was the worst part of schizophrenia. The delusions were just as real as anything in the real world.

Marfa pulled Isa from her delusion by speaking up again. “How are we going to rescue her? If the Crows are as brutal as their reputation says, I’m not going anywhere near them.”

“What do you want us to do, Marfa? Leave her to get kidnapped? Look, I don’t think the ones who took her actually want to hurt her, or us for that matter. She’s your teammate, how can you not care about what happens to her?”

“I do care what happens to her, I just don't want us all to die because we tried to rescue her from the most powerful gang in the country! Let's just go to the police and see what they say about this.”

“They won't be much use against the Crows,” sighed Isa. “Me and Marco are going to help Blaze… If you want to stay behind, then you can get out when we get to the city. I just got a text from Blaze saying that they're going to stop at the rest stop outside Eastport, which we should be able to beat them to.”

Marfa thought about her options, and sighed again. “I tried to talk you out of this, but now that you're not going to listen, I'm not going to back out and leave you two by yourselves. I can't believe you convinced me to do this…”

=====

The rest stop wasn't open yet, and the only cars in the lot belonged to tourists staying at the small next door motel. But Isa wasn't focused on that. She was focused on the delusions that were making it impossible to work on the task at hand, rescuing Blaze. “You thought you could ignore me?” asked Cara. The girl in the back seat was a visual representation of all of her guilt and sorrow, taking the form of her dead best friend. “Let's see how well you ignore this, Isa.”

The rain that had softly been pouring down turned into blood, and Isa audibly gasped. “What the fuck?” she asked under her breath, causing Marfa to give her a strange look. The blood came down like hurricane rains, making red puddles on the ground, and the sound of the drops bouncing off of the metal of the SUV was like thunder. Isa climbed out of the SUV and felt the blood bouncing off of her skin, running into her eyes and burning them. She ran away from the rain and into the rest stop, slamming the door behind her. The sound of the rain hitting the roof grew louder and louder. “What's this about, Cara?” she asked, and turned around to see Cara standing behind her.

“That's a question that you need to ask yourself,” Cara stated, smirking. “The only one who knows that is you.”

“Knock it off and stop being cryptic! Just tell me what this is supposed to mean!”

“You know what it means, Isa. If you don't, think harder about it.”

The blood was seeping under the doors by now, and the place was starting to flood. Physics said that should be impossible, but these delusions didn't follow physics. “Tell me what it means,” snapped Isa, but Cara disappeared. The blood was rising, and she was looking for a way out, but then suddenly…

“Isa, what's wrong?” asked a voice from behind her, and everything went back to normal. It took her a moment to fully realize that none of it had been real. She was standing in the middle of the empty rest stop, it was only slightly raining outside, and her eyes were no longer burning. There were no stains on her clothes, and the sound of the rain hitting the roof was barely audible. There was only her and Marfa. “You… You sounded like you were talking to yourself. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it's nothing,” she lied, forcing a fake smile. She knew that it was an obvious lie, but hoped that Marfa wouldn't push further.

“You're lying. You freaked out over something that nobody else noticed, and you looked like you were about to have a panic attack just a few seconds ago,” Marfa replied, moving closer to her and putting a hand on her shoulder. “When I was at the door, it sounded like you were talking to yourself. What are you hiding?”

“Nothing! I thought I saw something and I was wrong, okay? Let's leave it at that,” Isa replied forcefully. She didn't trust Marfa enough yet to tell her what was really happening. She hadn't told anyone yet about the delusions, for fear of being branded as crazy.

“Karen told me that you had… Uh… Mental problems. Is this related to that?” Marfa asked. “I won't tell anyone if you tell me what's wrong, I-”

Isa grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her against the wall, kissing her before she could say anything more. It was the quickest way to shut her up, and change the subject from her mental issues. Hopefully, Marfa would get the point this time not to ask prying questions. She was certainly taken by surprise at Isa’s aggression, but she allowed the younger girl to lift her up and hold her as they kissed. That kiss ended as soon as it started, and Isa set Marfa down and played it off like she hadn't just done that. “What was that about?”

“I wanted to shut you up, and that was the quickest way,” Isa remarked, running a hand through Marfa’s hair and then down her back. “Look, if me and you are going to be a thing, you're going to have to quit asking hard questions. You'll find out what you want to know when I trust you enough. Not before. Got it?”

Isa placed her hand on the base of Marfa’s back, touching her skin, and she blushed and nodded. “Yes,” she muttered nervously. She made awkward eye contact, and she wondered if Isa was about to kiss her again. She didn't know how she felt about that. She had only been dating Isa for less than a day, and it was only because she didn't want the keeper to be depressed because of her last rejection. And yet they'd already kissed twice. There was definitely some desire from Isa, who had been surprised but happy about her old club teammate approaching her. Marfa had no idea what she would do when Isa inevitably wanted to go past kissing.

“Good,” Isa said, and she rustled Marfa’s hair before turning and walking back out to the parking lot. She could act so weird, sometimes. One moment, she was talking to herself. The next, she was being romantic. Then, she acted like none of that had happened and she was being normal again. Marfa was determined to get to the bottom of what she'd been talking about earlier, but she would have to wait now. There were more important things to worry about, like rescuing Blaze.

When they got back outside, Marco was standing outside the SUV and watching the road. “What was that about, Isa?”

“Nothing,” she replied, and then she turned to the road as a blue lowrider that had to be speeding zoomed towards them and then nearly spun out when it swerved into the parking lot. It was driven by two men, but there were two young women in the back seat. One of them looked like it could be Blaze. As soon as she saw the SUV, she jumped out of the lowrider and ran towards them.

But it wouldn't be as simple as picking her up and driving off. Another pair of cars swerved into the parking lot, these ones painted in black with white stripes. The Crows were here, and they wanted Blaze too.

[Port Christopher]

'What, in God's name, do you think you are doing Reid?' Robert Kolbeck shouted from the bow of his twenty million dollar yacht, as he approached the artificial island he had planed to make home to his latest hotel venture. His constriction firm had spent the last six months dumping sand and rubble on the site, building it up above sea level, with construction planned to start later this month. It had been a massive operation, but with free space on Port Christopher getting more and more expensive, these options were starting to become viable. The Island, which was about two kilometres square, was set to be the jewel in the crown of the Entrepreneur's hotel empire.

'Oh! Hello there Mr Kolbeck.' Jim Reid said as he walked to the end of the jetty, a smile from ear to ear. 'How nice of you to pay us a visit.' He was flanked on ether side by some of the Christopheran playing and coaching staff, all of them were clad in builders' gloves and yellow hard hats.

'Jim, I'm going to give you about two minutes to get onto your freaking boats and get your asses off of my goddamn island before I call the authorities and have you dragged off of there.' The septuagenarian was waving a fist violently, all the more antagonised by Jim's chipper attitude. 'I have a good mind to have every one of you charged for trespassing!'

'Call them Mr Kolbeck, by all means please call the police.' Jim removed his hardhat and began fanning himself against the heat. 'Maybe it's a good idea to get this sorted out while we are all here. I mean, it's probably best to knew exactly where everyone stands before we start any of the building work - and certainly before we lay any of the turf for the pitch.'

What the hell are you talking about Jim?' Kolbeck was almost at boiling point as his captain moved the yacht up to the end of the jetty. 'I tell you you've gone one step to far this time. Even for a knuckle-brain ex-footballer like you.' He turned to yell back at some of the ship's attendants, clad in immaculate white uniforms, who were hanging on his every word. 'Pull us up level! I want give these brain dead fuckers a piece of my mind.'

'We might be knuckle-brain footballers, Mr Kolbeck.' Tim Maitfield added from just behind Jim's shoulder, removing one of his gloves so he could unfold a piece of paper from his pocket. 'But thanks to the ridiculous amounts that morons like you pay us, we are... lets say, knuckleheads with certain resources.' Kolbeck reddened further as they enjoyed the joke at his expense. 'The thing is, Sir, this isn't your island...'

'What are you talking about Malthouse? Or whatever your name is?' Kolbeck spat, as one of his attendant's helped him onto the jetty, reaching out to snatch the proffered sheet of paper.

'It was actually young Rachel here who had the idea.' Jim pointed to Rachel Del Arro, who was stood beside them, also kitted out in builder's gear. 'Rachel is another stupid footballer, so stupid in fact, that she is studying a masters degree in international law.' Jim was enjoying himself now, seeing the colour drain from Kolbeck's face as he read. 'She noticed that you'd made a bit of a mistake when your workmen started dumping the sand.' Kolbeck's breathing was now audible as he read to the bottom of the page. 'Turns out, that you actually built this island on international waters - Christpheran waters officially end seven meters off the end of this jetty. Technically speaking, you actually broke the law.'

'Th... thi... this is a joke.' Kolbeck turned back to him, while handing the sheet of paper to a man in a suit who looked like a well paid lawyer.'

'Oh don't worry Sir, we've hired our own legal team. You won't find any loopholes.' Jim added with relish. 'We've filed an official request to be recognised as protectorate of Schottia, and we've dumped so much paperwork on them, that this will be tied up in the courts for a decade before it's rejected.' The look of deflation on the face of Kolberg's lawyer told the players they had won. 'You are now officially standing in the Free Republic of Port Christopher.' Jim pointed to a crudely drawn flag flying from the top of a crane.

'You know you won't get away with this Jim?' Kolbeck was shaking, his people not even daring to open their mouths, for fear of being fired out of anger. 'This isn't the last you've heard of this.' He glanced at his lawyer for support, but he kept his eyes on the jetty, telling Kolbeck there was little he could do. 'IT'S MY FOOTBALL TEAM! IF I SAY YOU'RE OUT THEN YOU'RE OUT! YOU HEAR ME?'

'Hah.' Jim let out a hearty laugh, as his old opponent began to lose the rag in front of him. 'It's like I say, do you know how much we collectively earn a week? And how much legal assistance that can buy? We've already done all the paperwork, its our team now.' Jim held his hand aloft counting on his fingers. 'We have the name, we have the players, we have the fans, and all the rights. You'd already washed your hands of it. You own absolutely nothing, and that's the way it's going to stay. The thing is, Port Christopher was never a country to start with, it's a semi-autonomous region of Schottia - technically speaking. In actual fact, this little island is more of a country than that concrete eyesore you call home.' Jim removed his gloves in a way that said: job done. You might be able to stop us play on your island, in your stadiums, but you can't prevent us from playing full stop. You have no jurisdiction here, whatsoever. Now... if you'll be so kind as to level our sovereign waters?'

The players all united in giving Kolbeck a cheerful wave farewell, as he climbed back on board his boat, and stormed bellow deck. Jim knew he had won, only for the time being of course, but he had won none the less. And taking Kolbeck's Island from him had been the sweetest part of all. This wasn't the last they would have heard on the issue, not by a long shot. In terms of both the island, and the rights to play, Kolbeck would already be frantically making phone calls, trying to find out what could be done to stop them. Jim already had a legal challenge to Kolbeck's presidency in the pipeline, on the grounds that he had broken his constitutional agreement to protect the national team's interests - that would at least slow him down. And soon, once they began work on their newly acquired island, they would have circumvented the problem of Kolbeck and his cabal leaving them with nowhere to play.

Other than the fact that he had no idea what his opponents' next move would be, there was still the issue of Port Christopher not being a united squad of players. Jim was worried that this was something Kolbeck and the others might exploit, to get their wedge in. The key battle, however, was the fans. Jim knew that this would be where the war was won or lost. While he had the fans behind him, he couldn't really be in the wrong. However, the biggest factor still pulling the fans the fans towards their camp was the carrot of the World Cup finals, which still hung in the balance. A three all draw at home to Eshan last week (possibly their last match at the Willox Street Stadium) meant that absolutely nothing was resolved. Picking up a point on the road, he was sure that Eshan would see it as a victory, but Jim knew it was still winner takes all. If you threw in the friendly, they were now eleven matches unbeaten. Looking at all of the first leg results, with the exception of one or two, you would say that none of them were decided. A one goal lead was scant protection when going up against a side with nothing to lose.

The problem was that Port Christopher had plenty to lose. Had they been here under different circumstances, with a united squad and full FA backing, then it would be different. Eshan were higher ranked and he would have simply told them to go out there and enjoy themselves. Everything was sitting on the edge of a knife, and at present, there was no way of telling which way it would fall.

Jim looked over to where the players were already getting back to work, doing whatever they could to get the facilities ready. Even the younger players like Rachel and Caroline were doubling up as labourers, helping the construction workers they had hired. It almost melted Jim's old cynical heart to see this camaraderie. A year ago, when all the trouble first broke, he could never have imagined that these players would have gone to these lengths to support him, spending their summer breaks working on a desert island. Never in life, let alone football, had he ever witnessed such togetherness, people coming together like this for one another.

He watched Rachel reassure one of the builders that she could manage, before grimacing as she lifted a heavy wheelbarrow laden with bags of cement. These players should have been resting, only a few days before the biggest match of their career, not risking injury on a building site. But Jim knew he couldn't tell them otherwise, these players were involved at every level, and that's how they wanted it. It was the main reason they had gotten this far, not because they were better than the teams they'd played, but because the worked harder, and for each other. Jim only hoped - as he prepared to get back to work himself - that they had something left in the tank for Eshan.

[Matthewsiania]

It hurts to be Werdickley Safadão some times.
The first game's loss to Red Blackiland (or Rotschawrzland if you will) wasn't bad. It's clear that their team has developed well, safe to say they deserve everything good they ever get, but inside he felt something else. To be fair, he felt two things, one being a strong need to go to the toilet, it's a wonder he didn't have an accident during the first half, that "goat special" he had at a Huelandian food restaurant the other night might've been sort of rotten. Alas, patience, an athlete should know better what to eat and what to not eat.
But there was something else there as well: shame of himself.



Werdickley was the third of four kids his parents sired, though he wasn't actually gifted with anything in particular.
He wasn't as smart as his sister Dulcinéia, not as strong as his brother Euclídes, not as tough as his other brother Leomir and not as cute as his youngest brother Válio.
So much so that that's not even his picture. That's young Válio before becoming Val Lindoso, Matthewsiania's top model/farmer.



He was soon pushed to association football at school.
Reason being that he was actually rather competent at scoring.
His skills did guide Salvação Eterna High to their lone Matthewsianian High School Championship by scoring sixty-two goals in a league with about 10 teams.
That's him as a thirteen-year old, in front of his partner, a certain number 64 that went into hiding afterwards.
...
Yeah, Matthewsianian kids grow pretty fast.
Still, that was a single season affair and soon enough, he was out of school, without the actual grades to go up to an university.
Ideas for a profession were few.



His mind's first shot was pro wrestling, based after his grandfather's escapades as King Il at Chun-nan's Heartland Wrestling Theater.
Sure he'd probably have to wear a mask and he was rather weak at wrestling, but hey, who knows?
A chat with his grandmother, yelling about how he was taken away fast by concussions and a broken tailbone at the days it was quite hard to fix disheartened him out of it.



Soon, he thought about asking his elder cousin Josías to hire him at his law firm.
Josías was a serene, almost silent man, keeping to himself almost all the time, only talking when lawyering up was needed.
Of course, the whole being in jail for a month at that point for almost killing an innocent schoolgirl over a cheese and ham sandwich didn't register quickly with Werdickley.



His great-grandfather Dalin left an impressive record at the Bugrider circuit back at Entymion.
Following his steps would've been great for Werdickley
...
If only Entymion hadn't banned the sport after a massive accident left thirty dead from a giant bug slamming his hide over the crowd one time.



His young cousin Miguel had been doing rather well at the MMA scene, he could remember.
Maybe if Miguel accepted training him to become a giant star would work.
Except Miguel was too busy going from event to event since MMA had been more or less dead internationally speaking, so he had to rely on multitasking punching people at different nations.
Too heckling for Werdickley.



The last "successful" member of the family, his father João Alberto was a gridiron player at his heyday.
Gridiron paid well at Matthewsiania due to the various Kings the country had loving the sport.
Sadly, Werdickley was terrible at that. When the scout finished his look, he asked if he was meant to play for Cumberland.
So no.
It was time to go over the less succesful members of the family and...



Cousin Lee Ho, born Miguelito, now a Wu World Order student had been kicking people's chins at Central Sunrise for a while now.
Werdickley did manage to get there before trying to outsmart "Brother Lee".
Brother Lee being a giant, dark as the night and vicious just as much.
Lucky for him, the only thing that he did get out of it were his sunken eyes.



Lee Ho's brother, Dionatan, was a skateboarder at Mardi.
Of course, what Werdickley didn't know was that Dionatan was a skateboarder simply because he didn't have the money to make the trip back home.
A skateboard to the skull made Werdickley re-consider it as well.



Uncle Jéff was a soda-themed super hero.
Pass.



Uncle Roberto was odd.
Pass.



Aunt Sophia had been turned into a furry and worked as a witch.
We don't talk about Aunt Sophia.



...We don't talk about Cousin Paul.



...
We really don't talk about Cousin Paul.



Needless to say, Werdickley was back to football the following week, trying out the Exit Trials of Matthewsiania.
He did well enough to get an offer from Movimento Rebelde.
Dreams of playing at Movimento Rebelde were already there for the fourteen-year old Werdickley.
Except he was loaned as soon as he arrived.



Werdickley Safadão's first professional football game was at the second division of Barra e Janeiro, known as the Campeonato Carioca - Série B.
His team, Vassouras, had played the season before that as RJX before the team's owner at the time was found guilty of fraud and the team ended up being sold to the small town of Vassouras.
Werdickley was seldom used, but managed to leave with an impressive 10 goals, including the game beater against the eventual promotees Serrano.
Just as he thought he'd return to Matthewsiania, another new club arrived as Huelandão Série A (Huelandia's first season) still had a couple of games left to play and he found himself saving Unidos da Bola Quadrada from relegation that very season.
His first pro season would end with a brief participation at Saint PandaHalo's tenth-place run at faFictania's faFic League One.



The following season started poorly as Vassouras once again had him on their squad but failed to push him on.
Movimento soon requested him out before throwing him to D-League's Charmers Football, where he played only five games before once again moving.
He'd end that season with Tsundere Xiaoyu at the Chun-nan First League.



A 17 years old Werdickley Safadão found himself, at last, at the first team that would have him for more than a couple of games.
Sadly, it was still not Movimento Rebelde.
He had been loaned to a more traditional team after a move to the Bluestone Blur of the Liga SEGA flunked: Connery Sport of the Midlothian Premier League.
Werdickley Safadão decided to pay back their choice: twenty goals, his most at a league yet at the time.
Connery managed not only to get a spot at that season's Heritage Cup but also win the MPL!



Maybe the values of the Midlothian Premier League made him become a better player, come to think of it.
The league was known for being rather chivalrous, but one had to be crazy not to expect proper challenges.
And when it happened, complaints would happen.
And fisticuffs.
Midlothian football: if punches are needed, punches will happen.



Safadão would repeat his feats the following season, but that would possibly be the first misstep he ever made, as far as he was concerned.
Movimento Rebelde saw what he was doing there and quickly brought him back to Matthewsiania.
Needless to say, he wasn't enticed by returning to Movimento Rebelde, where he'd still not be played that much.
Soon, he'd request to be transfer listed.
A season where he was offered at loan would come and offers arrived just as much (teams from Kitsunia to Flock Nation to Huelandia to Campanarello to Deluphi wished to have the promising forward) but he would only settle for Connery Sport.
Movimento Rebelde wouldn't have that happen.
Alas, he'd perform well for the Figs at the national team and soon enough, Safadão wised up... and joined Norrion Rovers instead.



These thoughts hung around Safadão's head.
What if he didn't play as well at Connery?
What if he swallowed his pride and kept around Movimento Rebelde?
...
Why the lord did he have that special goat order?

[Alasdair I Frosticus]

Tales of the Fog-Thing

It was Hruu'huss Plabki, an autonomous crystalline entity of the Nethermind that had discovered the Plabkian Crumbles.

Speculation among the transdimensionally aware differed over the Crumbles' origin. But while some held that they were the decayed remnants of a city from the end times that had shifted in both time and space before being destroyed when it accidentally transported itself to the immediate aftermath of a specific universe's big bang, a growing body of opinion held that they were surviving fragments of the cold death of a universe that had subsequently been absorbed by a newly expanding universe - somehow they had carried over between different bubbles within the multiverse as one died and another was born. There were some who even argued that they had somehow carried over from the previous iteration of the multiverse, the last fragments of the multiverse that had existed before. Regardless of their specific origin, most students of the Plabkian Crumble agreed that they were simultaneously of the end times and the dawn times. Most students.

Regardless of their origin, fragments of Plabkian Crumbles were both exceedingly rare - not least because their transdimensional state meant that they could only be perceived by entities would could perceive several realities simultaneously - and immensely powerful. Only the most arcane of entities could both see them and handle them. Fortunately for the Fog-Thing's plans, the Tzimisces was one such entity. The Fog-Thing was puzzled by the Tzimisces; at times it was clear that he was more than he seemed to be to ordinary mortals, but for some reason he had apparently made himself subservient to the Basileus, willing to debase himself - in the Fog-Thing's eyes - by this never-ending involvement in this 'football'. It could glimpse some greater truth, but the nature of the Tzimisces remained veiled even to the stygian mind of the ancient fog god.

But with Plabkian Crumble - or at least a fragment thereof - to hand, the Fog-Thing could initiate its grand gesture.

Just as the match against San Llera was to begin, seconds before the referee blew his whistle, the Tzimisces thrust the Crumble fragment into the pitch. At that very moment, the voice of the Fog-Thing called out across the ground.

'BEHOLD SAN LLERANS, I BRING YOU A GIFT - I GIVE YOU THE OVERCOSM'

'FOR 90 OF YOUR MINUTES YOU SHALL BEHOLD REALITY AS I PERCEIVE IT, YOU SHALL BEHOLD REALITY AS IT APPEARS TO A GOD'.

For the rest of their lives, the San Lleran fans in the stadium and the San Lleran players would struggle to explain the next 90 minutes. For the first and last time in their lives, they were able to perceive the overcosm that connected the different realities of the multiverse, that - in so far as transdimensional space can be explained by three-dimensional mortals - formed the membrane between the different bubbles of each reality.

Some would attempt to explain the experience as being able to perceive every colour in the universe simultaneously.

Some would attempt to explain it in terms vaguely reminiscent of an extreme form of synesthaesia involving all the senses simultaneously.

Some would attempt to explain it as a feeling of unprecedented 'openness', without quite being able to explain what they were open to.

Every San Lleran who shared in the experience agreed that it was impossible to fully describe the 90-minute experience in words; touching the overcosm could only be felt.

Whether the San Llerans truly understood - or even appreciated -the Fog-Thing's grand gesture, its gift to humanoids it considered to be barely above the status of ants - would always be open to question. But the Fog-Thing was gracious enough to note one curious fact...

Given the extent to which their perceptions had been transformed for 90 minutes - perhaps, among the more gifted players, because their perceptions had been transformed - the San Lleran football team performed better than anyone had had any right to expect. The Fog-Thing had not asked for the power of the Plabkian Crumble to be unleashed in order to destabilise the opposition, but nor was it unaware that it could at least temporarily discommode the San Llerans. Losing only 1-0 at home to the humanoid footballing sub-entity tendrils of the Fog Thing, an entity that perceived the overcosm as a natural state, was quite the accomplishment for the home side.

And if none of the players ever really understood what had happened to them during the match, they were at least grateful for the 'well-done' card and four-dimensional chocolate cake (in the shape of a Clifford torus) that Tzimisces and Di Bradini had sent them after the match as a small token of appreciation for their remarkable effort.

[Bonesea]

.

[Anglatia]

Everyone knew that they would be in for a verbal beatdown when they stepped into the conference room where Wilson Tahiri was preparing his team for the second playoff leg. Everyone except for the scorers, anyway. Jenna 'Cholita' Santana and Marco Saint Paul had performed much better than the veteran players, who crumbled more under the pressure of playing at the Bank of Ross Park for the first time. Even before they'd gotten onto the flight to Quebec, they'd heard about it from the press and from the fans. Especially Kaden Espina, who had gotten sent off for an aggressive slide tackle on the goalkeeper with ten minutes left, that would lead to them having a hole in their midfield during the second leg without their main defensive mid.

"We didn't play Anglatian football out there, everyone," said Tahiri, walking to the front of the room and pressing play on a remote that controlled the television. The large TV screen was showing highlights from the match. It showed Hector Grier slipping to allow Leonardo Conavacio to run around him and tap the ball past a frustrated Blaze Chrzanowska. It showed Hazel Van Robben scoring on a long shot after Bozidar Pavlovic forgot to switch onto her as Andros Diasakos moved central to mark Conavacio. It showed Nessa Chryst coming on as a sub and missing an open goal on a shot that could've tied the match at 3-3. And of course, the highlights showed Espina clattering Cech in a desperate attempt to win the ball in a good position to give the Explorers a goal. "We weren't focused. We didn't deserve to win. But you all know that already. You knew that as soon as you all walked off of the pitch to the tune of the supporters singing about pain and disappointment. You've let them down more than me."

He pressed rewind and went back to the opening goal. "What were you doing here, Hector? It's like you forgot the basic defensive techniques that we talked about. If someone is bull rushing you, you stay on your feet and either run back or lunge forward to make a play on the ball. You don't go down and hope that you can make contact and hold them up. Maybe at Real Azuris, that works for you, but this is the highest level. Any striker worth their salt will step around you and get a free shot. We did go over this, right?"

Hector sighed, looking up and nodding. "Yeah, boss. I wasn't focused and by the time I snapped out of it, it was too late to make a standing tackle. I went to the ground because I thought I could force him to the inside where Blaze could run out and grab the ball. Sorry."

"Don't make the mistake again of not being focused," said Wilson. "That's the real mistake. Let's look at their second goal," he added, fast forwarding to when Bozidar Pavlovic couldn't reach Van Robben before she let a long shot from beyond the edge of the box fly. "It looks like lack of focus got to Boz also. I'm curious about what happened here. You were standing right there when Andros switched away from Van Robben and started marking Conavacio so Hector could stay back. Why did you let her take four steps before you even moved to make a tackle?"

Bozidar took awhile to reply, trying to choose words that wouldn't get him yelled at. "I wasn't focused either. I don't think any of us were, until late in the match when it was too late to come back. I know it's a big match, but there's a lot of stuff in the press about this team that was hard not to think about... It was easier to win when we were plucky underdogs who weren't expected to compete with the top teams."

"Exactly," said Zahara, who'd had a quiet game. "It's so hard to try anything when you know that you'll end up in the front pages of the papers if you mess up too badly. We were all playing to avoid mistakes. Not playing to win. I hate to say that, but it's the truth. None of us wanted to be the one to doom the team to a loss, and so none of us went out to win the match. Just Jenna and Marco, the young players with nothing to lose. I tried to stay back and keep possession, but I never really made a good run on goal because I didn't want to get caught by the counter and blamed on the goal. Andros and Lily played the same way."

Wilson paused, as the highlights continued to play. Now they showed Conavacio getting his second goal of the match when Diasakos gave up possession in the midfield and the high line got beat to give him a free run on goal. Wilson turned the TV off, letting out a long sigh. "I would yell at you all for putting so much stock in what the press say, but the truth is, some of this is my fault. I'm sure you've all saw the rumors that I'm not who I say I am, even if none of you want to say it to my face," he said, and that got everyone's attention. He wiped a bead of sweat off of his forehead, looking across the players. "You all need to know the truth. I'm sure we would have played better and won this group, if you knew the truth sooner, and I have to apologize for not telling you all. I didn't want to lose my job, but I may lose it anyway, so there's no point in keeping the past from you."

The room was silent, but Wilson saw that everyone was curious and interested. "Here's the thing... I never managed a professional club. I had a run as manager of the army team in the Nordskanian DPR, but they were hardly professional. I was an assistant at Union Ryakova, the communist party's club, and then before the revolution up north, I was an assistant at Energie Masloka. I faked my resume and said that I was a real manager, because I knew that at the time, it was near impossible to verify with actual records. My father wanted me in politics, but me and my friend from the army... We were into football. He's more into the stuff behind the scenes, but my dream was to manage. So we disappeared one night and showed up in Bathgate, where I used my bullshit resume for the first time to get a job as an executive there. The whole time I was there, I spent all my free time studying management so I could work on the staff some day, but then the national team job opened and I wondered if my resume would help me again. It worked out pretty well, if you couldn't tell."

"The truth is, my name isn't Wilson Tahiri," continued Wilson. "It's Petya Zharkov. I'm the second son of the Nordskanian dictator, Vasily Zharkov. I came here because Anglatia was a place where I could chase my dreams of working in the football industry. And because I knew I'd never make a good communist politician or a good military officer. I took a lot of money with me and got my face changed, but if you don't believe that I am who I say I am, just look at the old pictures of the Zharkov family. There's still some resemblance that you should recognize. Me and my friend came over because we thought we could ditch our pasts and start fresh. It hasn't worked that way. The federation is supposed to talk with me about this once we play all our matches, and I might get sacked."

There were murmurs as everyone realized that their manager wasn't who he originally said he was. Wilson waited for the room to quiet down. "Whether that happens or not, I hope you're all able to put those rumors aside and focus on the match tonight. You may be worried about the future without me. Some of you have played under three managers. Zach Drauss, Thane Hull, and myself. You may think that we're going to have a crash in success if I leave, like we did under Thane. But here's another truth... I've barely done anything as manager so far. It's all been you. Sure, I took more control of the tactics this season, but you guys improvise all the time and that improvisation has led to our greatest success. All I've done is steer you in the right direction and motivate you. As much as I hate to say it, you don't need me to win. You all will keep winning under your next manager, and you'll win more than you ever did under me."

The speech had turned emotional, as Wilson tried to talk his players out of relying on him too much. "But we don't have to worry about that for the second leg of the playoff. What we need to worry about is belief and focus. If we walk into Quebec thinking that we've already lost, we have no chance. We may be down by two goals in aggregate, but things can change in football in the blink of an eye. This team plays its best when we have our backs against the wall and we have no choice but to score. That's the situation this time, and we have ninety minutes to force extra time and make something happen. We've played in a lot of close games and we've won some and we've lost some. We were inches away from upsetting Brenecia. We've defeated the Sunrisians in their own house. We finished fourth place, out of all the nations in the last Cup of Harmony. Don't think that we can't manage multiple goals against a struggling Quebec team that doesn't have anything to play for. They're a successful nation, not one like us. They don't care about making it to the World Cup during a season like this, when they're struggling and couldn't qualify automatically. No matter what happens, they'll say this qualifying campaign was a disappointment. We, on the other hand, have something big to play for. We'll be heroes if we make it into the World Cup for the first time for an Anglatian team. Legends, even. We have the advantage psychologically. Play like it. Put your bodies on the line for this match, because it's the biggest one you've played in. Remember, tonight I just want everyone to go out there and play Anglatian football. That's it. You know who you are. Play like you do. You're dismissed for now, make sure you all get to the bus at six thirty."

There was a small round of applause, and while some of the players filed out, others stayed back to talk to their manager. He'd done everything he could to inspire them. Now it was up to them to perform, and to stick to the gameplan that he'd created with hopes of getting the upset. They would be starting Che Aguerez instead of Kaden Espina, to get more of an attacking look for this lineup, and out of form Zahara Santana was being replaced on the left wing with Nessa Chryst, who was feeling well enough to play. Nessa had a hard time playing in international matches because the giant international stadiums often sounded like battlefields during the matches, and she wrestled with post traumatic stress disorder related to the war from her childhood. Now, even though Imperial Hardcore had vowed to attend the match and raise hell, she was determined to start again and return to form.

It was a daring plan. The plan would make or break the playoff hopes of the entire nation of over a billion people. But like Wilson said, they knew who they were. They just had to play like they did.

(OOC: Change the style mod to 4 for this match)

[Eshan]

What's Up with the World Cup

So. Somehow yet again, our fate lies in the result of one game but now more-so than ever as we come into the second leg of the qualification play-offs against Port Christopher. The ending of the group stage was incredibly disappointing, tripping over our feet into second place after pissing away our first place position in three matches against Mazurska, Turori, and Qasden. However, now we found ourselves facing off against Port Christopher, the 51st ranked nation in the world compared to our new ranking of 40th in all of the multiverse.

We went away for the first-leg, and it certainly promised to be a good match. Both teams blitzed through their groups, we both finished with 26 points, they posted 22 goals and gave up 11 compared to our 36 and 19, so it definitely had all the makings of a great specticle and it certainly delivered.

We set out with Alexio del Nieran making a single change to his typical staring eleven, bringing in Steven Tadeo for Francesco Di Nolfo in the right back position. Di Nolfo looked a little suspect in the three game implosion, so it was the young Rosaria United player's time to shine for the National Team. Jean-Marie Bentacur, Anthony Baudelio, Marco van Ciavatinni, Samper Markovic, they all started for this essential match.

Things went very well for the Echani team from the start, with our unified pressing catching the Port Christopher players a lot of trouble in the first few minutes as we won the ball back and got off several shots within the opening ten minutes. But still, their defense held strong and did a good job bending, but not breaking under our pressure. We settled into our aggressive-possession scheme, pinging the ball all around the pitch looking for cracks to slip a lethal pass through, quickly finding one in the 18th minute. A long clearance from their goalkeeper under pressure from Anthony Baudelio was taken out of the air by Steven Tadeo near the halfway line. He dribbled up the field quickly before finding Marco van Ciavatinni, who simply passed the ball back into the midfield to Xavi Arisilde. He half-touched the ball up to Jean-Marie Bentacur, who dribbled up the field before spraying the ball out to the left wing for the wonderfully talented Marshawn Mercury. He used his flair and trickery to dribble past his marker before dropping a cross into the box for the beastly Anthony Baudelio to head the ball past the Port Christopher keeper and make the scoreline 1-0 in our favor.

Our lead didn't last for too long; Diego Bandos picked Xavi Arisilde's pocket and played the ball out to the talented Rachel Del Arro, who plays for Semaj FC in Cosumar. She succeeded in turning Tadeo inside out before dinking the ball over David Smith for Tony Uist, who wasted no time in slotting the ball past Demarcu Jones to make it 1-1 in the 27th minute. Things went from bad to worse in the 40th minute, when David Smith brought down Tim Maitfield inside the box and Uist stepped up to take the penalty kick. He paused before kicking it, eventually sending it to the right of goal. Demarcus Jones went the right way but the shot was too perfect, just narrowly curling past his diving fingers. 2-1, a scoreline that held going into halftime.

No changes as we emerged from the break, and we were off with a strong pressing. Nipping at defenders heels, chasing down midfielders, pressuring the goalkeeper into having to kick the ball long, all of these were hallmarks of Alexio del Nieran's aggressive pressing scheme. It paid off four minutes into the second half, when Marshawn Mercury poked the ball loose from Anderiz before sending a cross into the center. A volley from Baudelio was deflected out to Jean-Marie Bentacur, who hit a smoooooooth pass through the defensive line of Port Christopher right to the feet of Marco van Ciavatinni. The young maestro took a single touch to steady the ball before lofting it up and over Carus Laxium to make the score 2-2 in the 49th minute.

Alexio del Nieran made a change in the 60th minute by bringing in Iñaki Martón for David Smith, with Samper Markovic dropping into the defensive line and played as a high-pushing centerback who stepped into midfield in attacking movements next to the defense-only Martón, who actually started the movement leading to our third goal.

In the 65th minute, the brick-wall of Martón won out against Maeve Bronte and kicked the ball upfield to Marco van Ciavatinni. He put Lara Dixon on the ground with a smooth little head feint and then drove down the byline before crossing the ball into the center for Anthony Baudelio to volley into the back of the net for his second of the night and our third. 3-2 to us. The Erathi legend Alexio del Nieran brought on Darren Tran for Xavi Arisilde, moving Samper Markovic back up into midfield and Tran as a centerback. In the 76th minute, del Nieran made his final change of the night by bringing on Antonio Mulcair for a tired-looking Marshawn Mercury.

In the 82nd minute, the home team drew level when a long clearance from Robert Wessel found Diego Bandos. He did well to juke past Luke Albom before finding Jacques to make it 3-3 all, which is how the game ended up finishing.

So, interesting scene for us. We have 3 away goals, but at the same point we only drew so even a 1-0 loss means we would be done, so we have to grab a W or a 2-2,1-1,0-0 draw. Considering we've found a way to consistently fuck up during the final few days of the group stage of the qualifying campaign, there's a sorta nervous sense of 'anything can happen.' Can Eshan into World Cup Finals? The brilliance of the team cannot be overstated, we've played tremendously well thus far and while it certainly will be a disappointment if we are to go out at this final hurdle, the boys and del Nieran do have to be recognized for the great play they have strung together.

That being said, don't mess this up. Let's qualify for the first time in our nations history.

---

Alexio del Nieran found himself again laying in his bed, alone with his thoughts. After a hard fought qualification campaign and a 3-3 draw at Port Christopher, everything for the national team of Eshan hung in the balance. The second leg of the qualification playoffs would see Eshan take three away goals back home where they had to withstand an onslaught from a team that is certainly our equal.

He rolled over on his side. Everything would rely on Marco van Ciavatinni this match. Only in the 21 year old superstar could the bit of magic needed to win the series be found, only in him was the combination of vision, dribbling, passing, finishing, and intelligence found anywhere in the world. It was on his shoulders to carry the day, and Alexio del Nieran certainly knew that that was a heavy burden to carry having been relied on to pickup points for the Erathore national team and the various clubs he had played for in an illustrious career. How to get the most out of his crown jewel? How to free Marco van Ciavatinni up as much as possible so he could just play his game? The answers to these questions would determine the fate of Eshan's qualification campaign, and they were so close to victory. Only ninety minutes separated Eshan from the World Cup Finals, this was the time to earn his paycheck.

del Nieran's mind flicked to an idea he had had just the other day. To free up Marco van Ciavatinni and set him loose to devastating effect, letting him roam from his position on the right wing simply would not be enough to guarantee the result Eshan so desperately needed. Tinkering with the problem on his mental for days, Alexio had finally had a bit of an interesting idea for a solution.

Why not bring van Ciavatinni central? Not as a switch for Baudelio, not with the big striker or a back-up winger taking MvC's spot on the right wing, but why not play him as a deep-lying right forward and let him drop deep into the midfield so he could collect the ball and roam around the entirety of the field as he saw fit. This would grant him even more flexibility to employ his magic and swing the game in Eshan's favor, as well as providing a conundrum for Port Christopher's defense. Would their left-back sit narrow to keep marking him, thus opening up the entire right wing for the Echani team? Or would one of the centerbacks take on the responsibility of following Marco van Ciavatinni as he floated around the field? That would leave a giant hole in the defensive line for Port Christopher, also placing their other centerback in a 1-on-1 situation with Anthony Baudelio, and tbh he'd probably fuck up any centerback in a 1v1 contest so that was another situation that would work for Eshan.

Moving MvC off from the RW did mean that there would be a lack of width for the Echani team on that side, so the choice for del Nieran was whether to start Francisco Di Nolfo, who basically played as a winger, or the more responsible and faster Steven Tadeo? Di Nolfo would especially come in handy if Port Christopher chose to stick their leftback on can Ciavatinni, as he more or less plays as a right winger, that would give essentially give the Echani team a sort of 3-1-2-4 in attack, and we could certainly overload their defensive line with our quick attacking play if that were to be the case.

That was it, Alexio del Nieran thought to himself. That was how he was going to win this game and bring Eshan into the many great glories of World Cup Finals. Of course it could all go disastrously wrong and the lack of width would drastically unbalance the Echani team, Di Nolfo would be repeatedly caught out of possession, and we get absolutely and completely fucked up on the counterattack. But he had faith in his boys, time for him to see what they were made of.

[Damukuni]

((OOC: This is the last time this logo will be used - enjoy it. Lol.))

表示パーティーのお知らせ
ANNOUNCEMENT OF VIEWING PARTIES
プレスリリース | For Immediate Release

English

---

ATARASHII-DAMUSHUTO, 29 Sept. 2016 - The Damukuni Football Association has received a large amount of backlash involving the decision to play the home leg of the World Cup qualifying playoff against Bonesea at the Hidden Palace Resort Field in Eruguchi. The Damukuni FA chose this location to allow for as minimal distraction as possible to allow the team to enter the World Cup group stage.

However, while limited seating at the Hidden Palace is sold out, and we apologise for that inconvience, the Damukuni FA has announced agreements for compensation by the West Bay Cricket Club, East Town Cricket Club, and the University of Damushuto to open their venues for viewing parties.

Doors will open for these festivites no later than 5:30 PM Damukuni Time. The game starts at 7:05 PM. Exact details of gate opening times can be found on each venue's Web site. Full concessions will also be available at all venues for standard Damukuni FA-sanctioned national team prices.

Viewing party availability will not affect pay-TV coverage of the event (which has moved to ROX Sports 1 from DSN), nor the viewing of the game on the Damukuni FA app for BotOS and A-Source mobile operating systems.

Agreement with Damukuni Customs and Border Protection

Citizens of other nations in Esportiva, Rushmore, and Atlantian Oceania may be granted a special visa for this viewing party, good for 72 hours from its date of issue. These special visa holders must report to the EsportivaExpress desk and show the special visa for the viewing party, as well as a valid passport. If the viewing party is missed, the special visa may not be refunded, but will still redeem its full time.

Please contact the Damukunian embassy or consulate in your nation to apply for this visa. Visas will be issued until 12:00 PM Damukuni Time the day of the game.

All EsportivaExpress-sanctioned equipment or persons using the service are subject to search. Damukunian, Esportivan Bloc, and other applicable international laws apply to all visitors to Damukuni, regardless of visa standing. Please consult the educational materials provided by the Damukunian embassy or consulate in your nation.

[Eura]

Every crisis leads to some uncomfortable compromises on luxuries. For the shadow cabinet of the Euran government gathered at the Deep Reserve bunker, after nearly a full week, it was a case of relatively basic food and poor lighting. However they were driven on regardless in the knowledge that some of their countrymen and women faced much worse circumstances. The Prime Minister had just met with his senior military officials to discuss ongoing naval actions, or rather two big ones that were either underway or about to commence. Not far from Sameban territorial waters, a very large relief fleet from so-called Gregoryisgodistan had arrived with only a short period of notice. However initial reports suggested that after an initial gaffe or two, the Euran Navy had probably delivered a hammer blow to the armada after concentrating some decisive force with the Eleventh Fleet and long range bomber squadrons on land. The Eleventh Fleet were now manuvering to keep their distance, preparing to re-engage at the next opportunity, though the PM had been discreetly told that two submarines were still in a position to strike the enemy fleet. It was events elsewhere that were more troubling. Trouble was brewing off the Rocks of Marvas, an undersea mountain range that topped out with several tiny uninhabited islands in the middle of the Endemian Ocean. Eura's Ninth Fleet, including a nuclear aircraft carrier, one escort carrier and a number of cruisers, destroyers and frigates, was looking very isolated - and long range radar stations in Daera had picked up what was believed to be the Second Grand Seas Fleet of the Sameban Navy steaming towards them. No-one could be sure of the exact balance of strength, but it was much too close to call, although neither side or any of its allies would be able to summon reinforcements. Issues with satellite communication in the area had left central command in the dark.

Then the news came through. Judge stared blankly into the distance as the head of the Admiralty tried to explain. The Defence Minister, Dennis Barrington, was at a loss. 'We thought you had this under control, everyone was coming back. What happened?'
'Admiral Levy insisted he could come about north when returning from the Anemos visit, to ensure we had a carrier presence in Daera. He was warned of how isolated their position is and where the rest of the various fleets are assembling, but we were told they wouldn't risk turning west.'
'Bloody hell! Can we deploy anything? We've got to get the Second GSF, they must presumably have been on track for Isolaverde and got signals intelligence.'
'Fifteenth Fleet and some unattached vessels have been redirected north east on a return route from the southern oceans, they'll be there in two days. That's the best we can manage.' Judge simply shook his head at the notion that this was all that could be done. It was too painful to accept that Eura had suffered another major reversal due to the chaotic genius of Sameba's early war plan. 'How many? How many gone?' Nobody wanted to answer, least of all the naval staff. The Minister for the Euran Navy, a junior minister under the Minister of Defence, was more willing to take responsibility. 'Sadly sir it must be thousands, though we don't know how bad the full extent of the damage is or how much they did back. Something like this was always like to happen.'
'We've lost a nuclear aircraft carrier and five escorts in the middle of nowhere. What do we tell the Euran people?' Before anyone could answer, somebody beat them to it. 'Nothing.' It was Yarley. 'I'm sorry Prime Minister but what the Euran people don't need is more horrendous news. We've lost this week, bar probably what we're doing to the Greganian's. But you're cooped up in this bunker and people don't know what the hell is going on or who is running the show. We need to show some mettle.'
'Some mettle?'
'Some mettle.' Judge dismissed everyone in the room. They would discuss this alone.

----------

Ernest Granger Bridge was the largest urban bridge on the Holden, lurching over it at an unusual widening in Directus known as "the Castle's Piss" among the locals. After her previous run ins with the Chairman of the OSI, Maria Collingwood - known more commonly as "Spader" was watching the bridge from where she did every day, in her office overlooking Eura's famous river in its great eastern liberal metropolis. As chair of the Committee on Sameba Security Issues she had already written her resignation and posted it to the relevant ministers and the PM. For several years she had been the chief "dove" in Euran intelligence, dogmatically opposing any notion that Sameba wasn't on the course to a remarkable, peaceful turnaround. She had obviously been proved drastically wrong, and it was undeniable that the bad judgement and internal empire building of her and her office allies had cost many lives. Spader had a mobile phone in her hand. It had barely any battery left but that wouldn't matter. She dialed in a number as the lights flickered for miles and miles outside of her window. You wouldn't think there was a savage war going on, though this and every government building were largely evacuated and closed off for several days. 'Is that you?'
'Yeah. How's it going?' It was an older man replying to her. 'Well, I've handed in my notice. Sent Doyley, the Chairman, a little email.'
'Telling him to fuck off with the gloating or what?'
'No.' She sighed as she sat in the chair at her desk and adjusted her perfectly fitted black skirt and jacket. 'I told him he was right. After that, I sent Yarley and Judge my apologies. Told them they can pin it on me if they have to.'
'That's good of you. Did they respond?'
'Yeah. Sad to accept your resignation, best of luck, and all that guff. Doyley at least had the honesty to tell me he didn't feel like an "I told you so" moment was appropriate. Bob, I've got one last thing for you. Is the asset in our hands?'
'She is indeed!'
'Get her back to Bastion. Let's call her the send off for my career.'
'Goodbye boss.' She didn't reply, hanging up straight away. Spader took a deep breath - it was over. She was done in this job. She signed off the letter in front of her and stared back at herself in the mirror opposite. 'No-one can say you don't love your country Maria. No-one.' Reassured and a bit warmed inside, she pressed the panic button to call reception under her desk, pulled out a 9mm handgun, and went out the old fashioned way overlooking the city that she loved.

----------

Although the ongoing Euran-Sameban conflict, yet to have a proper name, was a mainly Rushmori phenomenon it was anything but a one region affair. Rushmore's offshoot Endemia had already experienced some violence and war in Esportiva looked very likely now, but even in the supposedly serene Atlantian Oceania there was a crisis afoot. The authorities of the Euran Oceania Territories had been taken aback by the sudden outbreak of conflict at home - overnight the very rapid flow of migrants to the new opportunities provided by this mostly empty territory had been cut to zero. It had a few million citizens, now mostly Euran but with huge Calanian and Whittorian minorities, and a rather large Euran military presence in the form of a small group of warships and half an army corps. Unfortunately they were now stranded in a way, but their security situation at least seemed optimistic. In fact the Fligsive Authority had already received orders to simply ensure that the Territories could be defended and main stability. Although the Euran government hadn't quite appreciated it yet, there was a degree of panic on the eighth day of the war when the Fligsive Authority had not received a response after reporting a large Sameban naval group turning up only hundreds of miles away. An attack was thought to be imminent; Fligsive and the other settlements bunkered down, emergency rations and martial law came into force. The military presence in the territories was formidable but isolated, and would have to hope it could simply make any landing attempt not worthwhile. It was an all around fantastic effort to establish a deeply entrenched defensive position within less than twenty four hours, and optimism started to rise as they began to think reinforcements would be on their way soon.

It was an anti-climax though for the Euran's in Atlantian Oceania, because the invasion never came. The naval group had gone. And that is because island of Iskandervale, a former territory of Nephara that was actually much closer to the Whittorian part of Euran Oceania Territories than the Calanian part, was their real target. On the ninth day of the war, Iskandervale and its population of 362,000 were overwhelmed by the full force of an invasion by around 50,000 Sameban troops, transported by a naval battle group that included the SNS Mareo, the lead ship of its class of light aircraft carriers. Within hours Iskandervale's tiny military garrison had been brutally wiped out in a merciless assault on the capital Iskandabad, with only a paltry resistance being managed in the other major settlement, Umbershore. Sameba had made an unexpected move, to say the least. They had in fact taken a big gamble on the idea that Nephara, with its small military and experience of only one recent major conflict, would not come to the aid of Iskandervale, which now would be rapidly turned into a launch pad for an invasion of the Euran Oceania Territories. They were also hoping that Eura would not be able to focus its resources on preventing this until it was too late. Sameba had completed the last of its great early war naval triumphs, as its powerful but nevertheless dwarfed-by-Eura navy pulled off another stunning coup. They'd hit Eura's main naval base, some other key strategic targets, crippled one aircraft carrier and sunk another with most of its escorts. Now though the reality would set in - they were running on limited fuel, with few allies, and with the Euran's regrouping. Therefore the force that took Iskandervale were to be brutal with the goal of efficiency, and would not have any patience with the local population if they got in the way.

----------

The southern border of the Euran federation was living a lot more peacefully amidst this crisis than the northern border, but it certainly didn't exist without some troubles. Their southern neighbour Electrum had been growing increasingly impatient with what they perceived to be transgressions by "annexationists" - ethnically Euran Electrumites who believed that much of northern Electrum was sovereign Euran territory. For years they had been a minority, but overcrowding in Eura's biggest cities and full employment in megacities like Brigham was forcing people to look south for opportunities. The war had hastened this urge, but also brought with it hundreds of thousands of Euran's who now suddenly saw going south as not only the safe option, but perhaps a national service, releasing the strain on the lumbering leviathan that was the Euran state. Recent legislation passed in Bastion, the Population Density Relaxation Act, simply gave them a legal permission slip to do so in massive numbers. For days the queues at the border posts had been overwhelmed, with long tailbacks stretching back towards main roads on the northern side of the border. The Euran Army had been deployed around the largest checkpoints to maintain order, but this was only so useful a policy. In many places, people were simply crossing offroad or even on foot because they could; Electrum was ultimately unable to police a thousand mile border when it could barely police its relatively small population during the current civil unrest in the northern cities of the country.

As a result of all this, Centralis was aggravated, while the Electrumite hard right were fuming. At a remote border post near the east coast, the inevitable happened. There was some shouting, some impatience, a border guard confused. Then a gunshot. A body face down in the wheat. The police came, and took it away. Reports were filed, Euran's on both sides of the border outraged, Electrumite's split. That night, as the queue subsided at this relatively unknown checkpoint, a handful of vehicles containing actual refugees from the Pooltree region pulled up after four days straight driving. 'No!' said the border guards as their papers were not quite good enough. It was all over in a flash. A pickup or two arrived, men moved through the fields with balaclavas and rifles. There was a confrontation, some gunshots, and now another body or two, but not Euran this time. While a savage and massive war raged on Eura's northern frontier, its southern boundary was becoming increasingly fragile, and now the Electrumite right wing had their moral panic ready made for them.

[Ceni]

Only If you win this match will you go to the WC finals... this is your cutoff.

[Damukuni]

Damukuni FA unveils new logo, World Cup group stage roster
For Immediate Release
English language

ERUGUCHI - The Damukuni national team has punched its ticket to its début appearance in a World Cup group stage with its 1-0 win at Hidden Palace Resort Field in Eruguchi, Northern Free State.

In celebration, the association unveiled its new logo, to be used in all media involving the association or the national team it fields. It was designed by National College of Technology graphic design student Oyago Nishikori.

Additionally, the association wishes to announce several changes to the Damukuni national team roster, in order to facilitate better team performance:

Defence Changes
[ 4]      Garth CATANESE    OUT ↑↓ IN    TANAKA Sadori          [68]     LF
[10]   SHIZUMI Takahashi    OUT ↑↓ IN    Alec MATTERHORN        [ 8]     CF
[ 9]         Rich WILLIS    OUT ↑↓ IN    Jenna Lee DOYLE        [ 2]     RF
Midfield Changes
[12]      Nicole STATHAM  R OUT ↑↓ IN    Milburn ROSE           [14]     CM
[21]         Joni BUTLER  R OUT ↑↓ IN    Lillianna RIVERA       [59]     CM
Offence Changes
[55]    SAWACHIKA Takara  R OUT ↑↓ IN    Margaret VAYNE         [59]     ST
Retained Starters
                                         TATSUYUMI Raiden       [36]     GK
                                         Ayala BAT NOA          [65]     DM
                                         ENDŌ Shikoku           [98]     LM
                                         Joanna DIETRICH        [22]     RM
                                         Jannie-Aurelia JONES   [97] (C) ST

Except as stated here, substitution rotations remain the same. The FA wishes to commiserate Bonesea on a job well done, and congratulate its own national team on boarding flights to Electrum and Ceni for the 76th World Cup Group Stage.

[Chiata]

Chiata Times
On the Seventh Day, Chiata Qualified

Yesterday evening, the Chiata Suns defeated Jeruselem 2-1 and qualified for the World Cup for the first time since World Cup 69. For six cycles after the Suns' breakthrough to the Round of Sixteen, Chiata floundered around in World Cup Qualifying. In half of those attempts Chiata made the playoff rounds and lost, the other half was spent finishing third in their group, and all six of them were given the consultation of a Cup of Harmony invitation. For 28 years, Chiata has not seen a World Cup game, but now they will. Essentially, a generation has passed since the last time Chiata had the honor to play at the top of international football.

Why the change in event? Many mark it to the change in strategy from freshman manager Jeremy Brodie. The Suns still play a 5-3-2, but the players play a more balanced game. Throughout qualifying they demonstrated an exceptional team dynamic, which may be why Chiata is punching above their weight. Of course, others chalk it up to luck that Chiata has qualified. Chiata finished just one point above Eastfield Lodge in their qualifying group and Chiata was the worst second place team in the playoffs. Jeruselem had a good qualifying and was the best second place finisher, at 9-1-2. However, Jeruselem and Chiata are incredibly close in rank, making what normally is an easy match for the higher seed into a toss up.

Chiata finished 7-2-3, a little better than the last two cycles where Chiata finished in third group position. There was no star of the show. Rather, Chiata was a solid team that combined dedication with opportunity. Chiata got off with a quick paced 4-0-0 start, defeating Schutzenphalia and West Ruhntuhnkuhnland, West-East Timor, Eastfield Lodge, and Gumusservi. The most important result was the away 5-2 win over Eastfield Lodge. The end of the first leg gave Chiata two losses, a surprise one against Gadirya and an expected 2-0 loss against group leader Gregoryisgodistan. Chiata came back in the second leg with more wins against Schutzenphalia and West Ruhntuhnkuhnland, West-East Timor, and Gumusservi. This time the Suns drew Eastfield Lodge, tightening up the race. Chiata was actually group leader for a lot of qualifying, due to an unusually shaky Gregoryisgodistan squad. Chiata was once again dissapointed with a draw against Gadirya, but Chiata was ensured at least a playoff round. Chiata unfortunately lost to Gregoryisgodistan, 1-0, but Chiata still made the playoffs and it was admittedly and close and exciting game.

Chiata luckily drew Jeruselem in a strange twist of events, where the most opposite seeds ended up being right next to each other in rank. In the first match in Chiata, the Suns drew 1-1, making everyone think Chiata was set to lose. However, Chiata came back to win 2-1 in the away game, securing qualification for a new crop of Chiatan fans.

[Fluvique]

SEE YA IN THE WORLD CUP

---

Historical, dramatic, exciting, touching....Fluvique qualified for the World Cup after four long trials, of many frustrations, with sixths spots, painful defeats and incidents in the stands. For what they made as visitors, the 1-0 win in the last minute, to wait in Greencastle to write history. Here, by the saves of Andy Paribas and by the relentless defence of that goal of Sam Gonza to get the ticket to Eura and Ceni 76.

The faces to the sky, the torrential rain drowning sorrows and providing a more dramatic athmosphere, if that was possible in Greencastle. The shirts in the hands, the chests to the stands. It is time to shed a tear as Henry Mhago does or run in a wild way as Sam Gonza. it is time to jump and perhaps fly like Andy Paribas in the match. Yes, Fluvique is in the World Cup, they did it, they did with courage, with the soul. The national side is in the place so oftean dreamed. There wals Gabriel Varelovsky, with blood on his mouth and a tricolor wig. De La Mesea, men of few words, is crying. It was 0-0 against Frenline Delpha in a chess match, it was 1-0 on aggregate.

This new page full of emotions written by the White Foxes had a start in the gray afternoon of Greencastle. Fluvique hosted Frenline Delpha with the need to avoid a defeat. With all the doubts, fears and nervousness that is generated while playing for a place in the World Cup and in history. Fluvique entered to the field behind an avalanche of confetti and a stadium near to explode. Carusso almost kept the same eleven players of last match, with Nick Auze returning after his red card in the last match of the qualifiers. The strategy was known and there wasn't surprises. In front was a hard Frenline Delpha, with the pressure of its ranking and history, trying to ruin the Fluviquean party and not go unnoticed. The team was ready to break the tricolor attempts.

At the start of the match Fluvique seemed to crush Frenline Delpha. In the first minute, Topolsky tested the goalkeeper with a shot from outside the area and turned on the Fluviquean illusion. The illusion of being superior, to show a good performance, to be a solid team. However, as the rain became more intense, the Fluviquean idea of control the ball and make short passes, was unlit. Fluvique had two clear chances in the first half. The first at 18, when Di Angello avoided two players and threw a center, but the header of Auze went near the right post. The second, pass of Gonza between lines and shot of Auze, contained by the goalkeeper. Except for those two playes, Fluvique was unclear in attack. With Gonza as football leader and Di Angello as winger, the team always tried with the same formula.

The main show was on the stands, with the support coming down, despite the heavy rain and wind. In the second half, Fluvique made the usual mistake. The team waited in defence, but did not attacked. And, what is worse: without the ball. In the opposite bench, offensive substitutions increased the tension of the match. The last 45 minutes, were played in a muddy field and under an incessant downpour. Both teams, however, played with caution and the match seemed to be opened by a defensive mistake or a offensive success. Frenline Delpha pressed in the midfield, Fluvique gathered the midfielders and defenders line and, when they had the ball, played it safe to find a gap in the rival's last line. In this sense, the dynamics of Topolsky and Di Angellow were the main offensive cards of the tricolor team.

The last minutes were lived as a rugby match: long balls thrown to the defenders and the opposite side running to charge. At 90+2, in one of the last balls which flew to the national area, a center was deflected by a striker. The World Cup seemed farther away than ever. And there emerged the figure of Paribas. The goalkeeper jumped to his right and scratched the ball with his nails, enough to send it to the corner kick. After that center, cleared by two defenders, the final whistle was a relief. We were in the World Cup. Madness. Carusso lying in the turf, hugging his staff. The crazy run of the players towards the centre circle, to join together in a round. Others kneel in the grass, with the arms open to the sky in an emotional celebration. The fences were near to fall. The flares illuminated every corner of the stadium and surroundings. The Kingdom exploded in happiness. Thousands of hundreds took to the streets, singing the same song:

Yes yes sirs, I'm Fluviquean!
Yes yes sirs, please stand up
'Cause this year Les Tricolores
Les Tricolores will play the World Cup

And yes, we are in the World Cup.

---

Frenline Delpha 0

Fluvique 0
GK 1 Andy Paribas
DF: 3 Gabriel Varelovsky 87'
DF: 2 Rodrigo De la Mesea
DF: 13 Dennis Castanginnet 67'
DF: 15 Teo Calmwater
MF: 8 Lucas Topolsky 90'(Aurelio André)
MF: 5 Henry Mhago 36'
MF: 30 Hamilton Escarrà 88'
FW: 10 Sam Gonza (C)
FW: 11 Nick Auze 88''(Ted Apparicio)
FW: 7 Paul Di Angello 89'(Fitz Dirksen)

---

Stadium: King George, Greencastle, Greencastle Province
Attendance: 55.000

[Audioslavia]

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World Cup 21 RP Thread (qualifiers underway)

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[32124532] [Quote]

England by England >> Thu Sep 16, 2016 11:39 pm
Founded: 1066
Corporate Bordello

Big Sam furrowed his brow, reached forward, and grabbed his pint of gravy. He downed two large mouthfuls of it, pulled out a half-used
Greggs napkin, wiped his mouth, and answered the man's question.
"For four hundred grand there isn't a great deal I woudn't do, to be honest, but yeah, I'd be happy
to put the word out about your firm."

"We hear the process is illegal in England" said one of the businessmen. Big Sam eyed the falafel and hummus wrap that the man half left
unfinished on the table in front of him. "The English are, somewhat less open to the idea of businesses owning players, rather than the,
how you say, outdated current method of players being owned by football clubs"

"Are you going to eat that wrap?" asked Big Sam, salivating.
"What? Oh, no, here..." replied the man, offering the plate. Big Sam leaned forward and took the wrap in his teeth without even moving his hands,
flipping it up into the air and swallowing it whole as it landed in his mouth. He took his hip-flask of gravy and refilled his pint glass, before
nodding at the man.
"Yeah, 4-4-2 and they don't like it up 'em. Football football son, football football. Top lad. Top top top."
"I'm sorry what?"
"So, where do I sign?"

Back at the hotel room, the 'businessmen' replayed the tape on a laptop. Both were shaking their heads.
"They'll never believe us" said one.
"We'll have to edit out the really bad bits. 'Only' make it look like he's agreeing to take money from foreigners in exchange for info on how
to circumvent some of the country's rules and regulations on ownership of footballers"
"It'll be enough for a story. The readers'll lap up anything to do with that. 'Slavery', they're calling it. Let's just make sure we don't
make him look even more like a pantomime bloodhound in the process."

With that, they sent the file to the editor of the newspaper.

to be continued

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