World Cup 79 • CREDRAWK • RP Thread

[Bonesea]

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[Petroslovania]

OOC: This is for 11/27 Sorry I couldn't RP last night
IC:
Coach McCaig ran into the locker room where the players were drinking champagne and celebrating their 4 to nothing win against the Mixonistanis.The roar of the crowd seemed like nothing next to the immense sound being produced by the team who had just earned their biggest victory ever. McCaig stood up on a bench a called the players to attention, "Today, today we played an excellent game! I am so very proud to your coach, you guys are absolutely amazing and it was so great getting to coach you during the Baptism of Fire and now the World Cup is even better. We are the top of our group, for now, we still have several very strong teams to play, especially Gregoryisgodistan. But if we keep on playing like this I'm sure we will make it to the finals." The players cheered, as coach stepped down an apparently drunk Finn Cornell walked up to the same bench. He got on, fell off, and got on again. He yelled, obviously not realizing how loud he was talking, "I scored two goals!" the players clapped and hooted, "Thank You, Thank You! But I couldn't have done without you guys, especially you." He pointed to Mictlantecuhtli Dobrev, "You had two goals two," Cornell said. He took a long swig from his bottle and fell down the floor. The team went back to roaring celebration of their two back to back victories.

[Indusse]

AT LAST THE BIG RELIEF

The indusse football team had made a game to a tie at last. On the last match with Alpine union indusse had secured 8th place in group and indusse had its last place replaced by bjornaya islands.

[Banija]

Kabaka Albert III's visit to Bostopia Part II- The Game

Kabaka Albert III was at the stadium in Fort Boston. It was 15 minutes before kickoff, and the stadium was packed. The arrival of a King and an Emperor, of course, would make this much more exciting. Banija, of course, was trying to recover from a crushing 4-3 loss to Boring Paradise at home to start the tournament. He had watched the match on TV even if he hadn't been able to get to Hoima for the game; an own goal by George Wangolo in the 86th minute was the difference. A crushing loss, on the captain no loss, meant that the team had to recover.

Of course, Albert III looked around the stadium. 100,000+ seating capacity. There were 6,000 Banijan fans, tucked into the Nortwest corner of the stadium. They all gave loud cheers when he walked onto the pitch, along with polite clapping from the Bostopian fans. They were excited to see a foreign Monarch here, of course, but they were here to win. A thunderous applause happened, of course, with the Emperor's introduction to the crowd. It was deafening.

"Your Imperial Majesty", said the Kabaka. "The energy from your people. It is amazing."

"Thank you Al" Said the Emperor. He hadn't addressed him by his title, but he was getting comfortable. He got a nudge from Haelwen. "Excuse me, thank you Your Majesty".

The teams were officially presented to the two monarchs. The Banijan team came up and each member kissed the ring of the Kabaka. In Banijan tradition, each monarch, on his first anniversary, received a golden ring that they would wear on their right hand, middle finger, for the rest of their day. The players all kissed the ring- the coaching staff was mostly foreigners, so they did not. The Emperor, on the other hand, watched each member of his squad, staff and player, bow to him. With that, they left the field and walked up to the Royal box to watch the match.

The Emperor, with his full regalia, and the Kabaka both, intensely watched the match. The Kabaka murmured to his wife. "You know, honey, what's the age of this man? Wouldn't it be great if Aria was an Empress?"

"Honey!" The Lubuga angrily whispered. "You can't go off marrying your sister like that! This isn't the 1500s!"

"I am the Kabaka, aren't i?" Said the Kabaka. "Regardless, she can't inherit the throne, can she? Ours is patriarchal! How to better establish a bond?" The Emperor looked on, trying to listen to their intense argument. It was all in Banijan, of course, so the Emperor couldn't understand a word. This, of course, made him angry, as he looked at Haelwen.

"How disrespectful" he said quite loudly "Is it to be-" Haelwen, knowing what the Emperor was going to say, rushed in with biscuits for everybody. This calmed the Emperor down, and the conversation between the Kabaka and his wife stopped.

In the 30th minute, of course, Bostopia would take the lead. There was a commotion- Ernest Gosford had been taken down in the box. "Damnit, a penalty??" Exclaimed a frustrated Albert III. "What is wrong this team?" His wife laughed awkwardly, as the Emperor pounded his fist. Gosford put away his own penalty, and his team all of a sudden lead 1-0. They took that lead, of course, into halftime.

"Your team is playing pretty well!" Said the Kabaka to the Emperor. "Your boys play inspired for their monarch, eh?"

"Well everyone's playing inspired with a King and an Emperor!" Said Emperor Boston. "Just watch!" And this was true. The effort on the field was incredible. Going for 50/50s, both coaches screaming, captains yelling, the crowd getting into it- it was an entertaining match, even for a neutral.

When the second half came, it was quite dull until the 57th minute. At that point, Okafor had a step on his man, Zach Spires. A beautiful over the top ball was delievered by Isaac Georgiadis, and it was volleyed home from 12 yards to tie the game at one. At this moment, the 6,000 Banijan fans went crazy, and the Kabaka pounded his fist on the table. "Yes! Come on boys, let's get another!" Exclaimed the Kabaka. The two monarchs were enjoying each other's presence, even if Emperor Boston was a little uneasy about it.

The game was back and forth, as both teams made substitutions. It was the Bostopian one, however, that made the difference. 41 year old Adam Fletcher, the grizzled veteran, came on to find the difference in the 85th minute. And just two minutes later, there was a corner kick. It went directly to the head of the 41 year old, and just like that, he headed it into the back of the net and set off wild celebrations in Bostopia.

"Yes!" The Emperor screamed as the stadium shook from all the jumping and noise. There were hugs going around, as multiple members of the Bostopian entourage clapped and shook hands with the Kabaka. The final score, of course, was 2-1 to the hosts.

"Thank you for hosting me at this beautiful stadium!" Said the Kabaka. They exchanged pleasantries, and as they were driven back to the Fort Boston International Airport, the Kabaka had the plan already going through his head. He was only 45 years old. His youngest sister was 16 years his junior, at 29. He'd have to pitch the idea to her, of course. Her first husband, unfortunately, was dead. If she was up for the idea, a visit would be in order for Matchday 11. If there were compatible... The two dynasties could be united forever...

[Northwest Kalactin]

Northwest Kalactin ties against dania as a 1-1 tie keeps them in the race for the COH there is really not much of a chance that we’ll make World Cup as we already lost 2 games

[Coldfield]

Coldfield Triumphs Over Cassadaigua

News brought to you by John Postman, from the state-controlled newspaper Coldfield One

The National Team of Coldfield defeated the matriarchy of Cassadaigua in front of 50 thousand fans. With the positive result, Coldfield sums nine points, five ahead of third, fourth and fifth placed teams Cassadaigua, Valladares, and Dainer, regarded as a safe advantage by manager Edmund Meyer. The next match Coldfield will face Ethane - the second-placed team who also sums nine points - at their home stadium; the overall goal difference favors Coldfield, with a dozen scored goals opposed to six conceded goals.

The match against Cassadaigua created many counterattack chances for the defensive opponents who took advantage of the aggressive Coldfieldian style of play, though Coldfield bet on their crosses to win the game - and the first goal came from such plays. The goal was scored by Dean Murray at 35' with an assist from Darnell Tjelvarsson, who crossed for Murray, alone in the box. Murray performed a not powerful yet disorienting volley, which puzzled Cassadaiguas's goalkeeper Kristen Speller as the ball hit the ground and changed its direction before crossing the goal-line. Ten minutes later Robert Simmons did a through-ball pass to Nathaniel Balogh, who nailed into the superior edge of Kristen's goal, violently thrusting the net. The first half ended with a 2-0 lead for Coldfield.

In the second half the game slowed down as Cassadaigua's defense line increased and the counterattacks became more aggressive. At 77' Hannah Ranucci stole the ball from Daniel Montgomery (the substitute of a tired Robert Simmons) and risked a kick 28 meters away from the goal, scoring for Cassadaigua. Edmund Meyer's angered once again and replaced Montgomery with Rick Sommerfeldt. The substitution did not change anything and the game ended with a 2-1 victory for Coldfield.

His Majesty Edmund Meyer stated the triumph as a "demonstration of willpower and strength, a retaliation against the critics made by Brittany Byers - the team captain of Cassadaigua."

[Vangaziland]

The Dark Elf & The Redhead Princess: Part II

The eerie notes of the bone flute curled and wrapped around Ryiah like a cloak, caressing her ears with the surprisingly skillful tune. She didn't stare at the woman who played however, instead keeping her gaze mostly forward and on their path, vigilant despite her many protectors. They had yet several hours of travel ahead of them before she knew the captain would call for a halt, knowing they would not continue in the dark of night. Such times were the hours bandits would most love to make a move.

While the music was diverting, and the soft clip of her horse's hooves was soothing, Ryiah kept finding her mind turning to the dark skinned mage in the cart just to her left. From time to time, she bit her bottom lip, a habit she'd formed long ago when trying to convince herself of something, or make a difficult decision. It wasn't polite to stare, she knew such simple manners, trained to be diplomatic from a young age. Still... her gaze flicked to the man. Noting his fae appearance. She had heard of the fae... but she knew very little of their kind. Most within her kingdom were human, with other races dominating residence in the mountains, or across the sea. But travelers had been often within the royal city of Orilon, situated on the main port of the Tellirin Empire. She was always facinated when her father held audience with any of them. Her history books had left much to be wanting. Her father preferred focus to be put on tactics, politics, and the betterment of one's physical and mental prowess, to that of learning histories and legend. She often wished her tutors were better versed in such. Now, often sent on missions as a delegate for her father, she knew such histories would have been well used, providing her better knowledge of the people she both worked with, and against. As it was, she was left a bit lacking in that department.

A sigh escaped her as she drug her mind from its musings to again glanced toward the dark skinned man. Finally, she made up her mind. Why not use the boring hours of riding to enjoy a bit of conversation she would rarely find other opportunity for? With this thought she allowed Naktis, her gelding, to fall back a bit so she rode even nearer the man who stood at the fore of the cart. With a glance up, she offered a light smile, along with a raised eyebrow. Clear amber hues seemed to assess him a bit, and her voice, when she spoke was a bit lilting and melodic. "You are a mage for my father, yes?" She had only had glimpses of the group her father had in his employ that invoked their various magics. It was as if he tried to keep her from the world of magic entirely, grounded in her own world, without tales to inspire her. The small patch of obsidian and deep purple scales which sparkled softly on her back shoulder blade were testament that there was more to her, than even she knew. She was no idiot. Her father kept his secrets well, but she knew they were there.

And there she had gone again, into her own mind and forgetting she'd begun a conversation. Her focus snapped back to the man above, her chin tilting a bit upward to better see him.

The dark elf turned his glance from a peripheral view to face the ruddy-haired woman. He tried his best to portray a surprised expression. As if he just happened to be looking in that direction and not that he was actually sneaking glances.

But he could have sworn he saw her eyes doing the same.

His smile turned into a warm glance from steely eyes so light they seemed to shine against the contrast of his black skin. "Yes, m'lady. Archmage Pluvio at your service."

He bowed slightly, still holding on while standing in the large open cart. He had to almost shout to speak over the rumbling hooves.

"These are some of the finest mages and rangers in these lands. We're all enthusiastic to be on this assignment."

A look back at the crew would show most of them were either close to or in the middle of a nap. Only the flutist continued. She stopped suddenly and changed the tune. It went from a sullen, mournful tone to something different.

The new song was peppy and curious, with melodies that danced in the wind. The short haired woman looked over at the pair with a hint of a restrained smile before turning to face the other side of the cart.

As the flutist nearby turned to regard the two conversing, her tune changing to one of curiosity, Ryiah raised an eyebrow, wondering whether there was more significance to her melody than a mere song ton pass the time. Allowing several long moments of silence to pass, Ryiah considered Pluvio's question. It was a mere attempt at conversation, at least so it seemed, but she gave it due thought nonetheless.

Finally she lifted her lilting voice again, "I am Ryiah by the way, as I am sure you are aware. But it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. The road has done me no harm thus far besides encrusting me in a layer of dust." She grinned a moment, then shrugged. Her curiosity about the dark skinned fae nagged at her, and she finally gave ik to the question. "Where do you hail from? I have not seen many folk of your likeness around here." She paused, "forgive my nosiness, but I am curious."

As she continued, a feint smile appeared on his face. He'd most certainly heard of her and even seen her around once or twice. But the mages received little fanfare. Glances were always in passing. Pluvio often wore heavy robes and headgear that would help obscure his presence.

"Yes, yes... Quite far. I come from the township of Nacknost.. One of the Five Settlements of the Upper World Drow." After the original drow elves left the caverns, new mutations and genetic lines started to form. Pluvio was one of the earliest split lines, with jet black hair replacing the typical stark white hair. Eyes ranging from silvers to blues replaced the original Drow crimson irises. Further recessive traits include 'fair skinned dark elves', with skin complexions including greens, grays and blues. "It's a bit of a farming town."

Pluvio's focus on storms and weather systems was an important arcane art in Nacknost, where most of the food is grown for the Five Settlements.

His eyes turned to hers and looked deeper for a moment. They locked on, as best as they could between the bouncing vehicles. He looked away as a curve took his attention and he blinked, finally looking ahead. "Pleasure to meet you, by the way... M'lady... So... What was it like to grow up in the castle?"

He was also curious, often by nature, but especially about the lady with fiery hair. He cocked his head to the side to listen, while keeping watch for bandits. He could see bright reflections dancing off her hair in the sunlight. Pluvio even turned his head away, letting her drift out of his peripheral vision just to see the bright reflections fade away. He'd turn back towards her and the light spheres would return.

He tried not to make it obvious as he listened. After all, he was just scanning...

[Cassadaigua]

Cold, Hard Setback,
By Brittany Byers, Team Captain

Blogging is not as fun after a loss. It’s especially not as fun after you froze your ass off out there in the process. Coldfield may be the most perfectly named nation in the world, because that’s exactly what it was. It makes me wonder, how exactly do people live here? That’s just me, I grew up in the warm areas of Concord Heights, but if you go up in the mountains of Cassadaigua into places like Grande Mountain or Winchester, it’s freezing up there too. Not quite as cold as Coldfield, but it takes a special type of person to like to live in this type of climate. I know that Hannah Ranucci, who was born and raised in Brattleboro also detested this type of environment. To her credit, she did not let it get to her, and battled through it, and had some good chances, which we saw in the 77th minute. She’s tough, gritty, and the best part is, she’s young. Then again, there was Jessica Curran, who probably wanted to do snow angels in a bathing suit. Jessica is from the hills of Winchester, and it probably is not as surprising that she was one of our best players out there today. We’ve played and practiced in this type of weather, so we can play in it, and quite honestly once you start running around out there, you hardly notice it, as tough as that may be to say. It was a quick paced game, maybe a little too quick for our liking, and we had some good chances on counterattacks, especially in the first half. The first goal that we surrendered was a bit of a stinger as Dean Murray got a fortuitous bounce in the 35th minute. Kristen (Speller) was frustrated, but that’s the way it goes sometimes.

It’s a loss, a setback, but not nothing insurmountable. Qualifying for this tournament in particular is a long marathon, with 18 games to be played. We’ll have to be better against Dainer in our next match, but it is in Concord Heights, and we will get our mojo back. That’s all for now. I thank all my readers, which also include His Majesty Edmund Meyer of Coldfield. I appreciate you heeding my advice.


Queen Cassie II Makes Brief Statement on Gregoryisgodistan situation,

“I want to express our support for the rebel army in Gregoryisgodistan. While we have generally not had much involvement with that nation over the years, it is always a happy day and time to see such a psychotic leader have justice served to him. Psychotic dictators give a bad name to imperial leaders who do things the right way for their populace.”


- - -

Must Sweeney Go?
By Kelsey McGinnis, Concord Heights Times

Leave it to me to be the one who fires up this headline after the Dagans lose their first match of qualifying. However, it might be a very good question to be asking if Cassadaigua wants to take it to the level in the World Cup and be what they once were. We saw a coaching change have success in the World Baseball Classic for the team. Everything had been fine and all, but CAB, the Cassadagan Association for Baseball, brought in Maddie Polanco to be the new manager of the team after serving as the bench coach for Super-Llamaland. Polanco was coming off a championship with Super-Llamaland in World Baseball Classic 40 before taking over our team in Classic 41, and led us to the third place finish. It was quoted many times by players that they just needed to get current with the new age of thinking. Just some food for thought. If a big name becomes available, don't be surprised to see CASE made an aggressive push.

Meanwhile, I am going to go back and get better at finishing out games on my video game for the World Cup. I was being Drawkland, and my husband was being Ceni, and I had a 4-0 lead after 80 minutes, and somehow blew it and lost 5-4.

[Chromatika]

Chromatika in World Cup 79 - Part 3: An Unexpected Turn

Rainbow Airport
7 Rainbow Revolution Dr
Chromatik City, Chromatika

"Anyone seen Mia?"

A frantic, worried, exasperated voice of one Jane Williamsen could be heard in the VIP Lounge of the Rainbow Airport, the national airport of Chromatika. Everyone other player was here, but the young Golden Eagles star was nowhere to be seen. They all started too look around, try to see if she was hiding or playing a prank, but Mia Ria simply wasn't there.

Although she was young, it wasn't like her to be late. If anything, she liked to police people for being late.

Meagan Kelly, the Captain, spoke up. "Nobody among us has seen her, Jane. Kinda strange for the kid, though."

Keira Andisori was already on her phone.

"She's not picking up on the cell, either," stated Andisori, hanging up, a tone of worry in her voice.

Everyone started to talk animatedly with each other about where Mia could be. It continued for a while until Silian Parker's phone rang, and the entire room grew silent.

"Yes? Yes, this is Parker. Oh, it's good to hear from you too, Sir. Wait, what? Is she all right?" Parker turned around and started to walk briskly out of the room to avoid being overheard, but what the Manager had already stated set the whole room talking. What had befallen Mia Ria? Was she all right?

After about three minutes, Parker came back, his face even paler than usual, sweat running down his forehead.

The silence was so thick that you could hear a pin drop. An air of dread developed as the players noticed just how shaken the Manager looked.

"Mia won't be on the plane flight with us," he said, trying to keep his voice calm, "Her family was involved in a car crash on the way here - she had spent the night with her parents and older sister - and she's injured pretty badly. Three broken ribs, a punctured lung, a broken leg, and a massive concussion. Doctors say she is still in critical condition, that blow the head was the most serious."

All the players in the room winced. Those closest to Ria, like Kuzami and the younger Kelly, had tears in their eyes.

"Thankfully, the rest of the family all had minor injuries and are fine. They'll keep us informed of updates. The media doesn't know yet - but the story will probably be out by the time we land in Boring Paradise."

"We need to get going," said Parker weakly, "Be there for each other through the flight, try to get ready for the game. I know it's hard, but it's what we have to do."

And with that, the team sorrowfully boarded the plane and left Chromatik space.

---

Boring Paradise 2-2 Chromatika
Chromatika: Victoriane '27, Gail '84
Starting Lineup: Justus; Morningstar - Stef - Damjana; Kelly (C) - Hellion - Mora - Dragana; Victoriane - Mehdizade - Xe. Subs: Sybill -> Mora '51, Gail -> Mehdizade '68, Ellen -> Damjana '81
Summary: After the devastating news of Mia Ria's injury, the Chromatik team understandably looked shaken in the first thirty minutes, as the usually reliable defense looked full of dead weight in allowing two goals early. Justus, making his first international start, did settle down, and Chromatika settled down to the same possession-based style it used in the game against Buyan. Kaytlyn Victoriane showed her class in the Chromatik goal of the half, hitting a shot from thirty yards on a wicked angle to beat the keeper. Then, Parker did what he often does, using substitutes to dictate the match, and this time, he wasn't messing around. He brought in Sandra Sybill, Miranda Gail, and Zlastica Ellen as subs, and the Chromatik pace picked up to where Gail was able to literally run by two defenders for the tying goal. A last chance effort by Xi Xe was taken by the Boring Paradise keeper as time expired, and Chromatika escaped one of the hardest games it has ever played from an emotional standpoint with a point.

The players all wore tributes to Mia Ria, a "#12" patch sewed over the left chest of their shirts. There has been no other developments on Ria's condition - she has been in a coma for the last three days.

Matchday 3: Chromatika vs. Bostopia @ The Capitalizt Dome
Projected Starting Lineup: Joy; McBee - Will - Ilya; Etienne - Mora - Kuzami - Han; Drea - Vidal - Chesser (C).
Is it really smart to put the entire deep reserves in to the Starting XI? Parker seems to think so, as he fields a lineup that is comprised of over a third of its players making their international debut. Sherlyn Joy's turn to be the netminder will be covered by the untested trio of Zheide, Kattie, and Valence; Etienne brings a bit of stability, and the other trio of Mora, Kuzami, and Han have had limited experience, while Willard Drea and Olimpia Vidal make their debuts, all Captained by Alexandria Chesser. Bostopia isn't a side to take lightly, and they'll be looking to use the emotionally tense atmosphere to force an upset. Hopefully, Chromatika's class has led to their bench being of good caliber, and the team will be able to grab their second win.
Prediction: Chromatika plays with a vengeance, and even if the starters can't do the job, Parker's willingness to not spare anyone off the bench should do the work. Chromatika 3-0 Bostopia.

---

Operation New Hope: The Aftermath
Part 2: Kerri Wyse

As we all keep Mia Ria in our thoughts, I bring you the second installment of this government-cleared debriefing by the brave members of Operation New Hope. This time, we hear from one Kerri Wyse, the fiancee of Luuk Aart (they are set to be wed at the conclusion of Chromatika's involvement with this World Cup), on what transpired after Gail's entry:

"Before it's all said and done, K, things are going to get hella weird. I feel it in my bones. This Revolution - what we've done? Just the tip of the iceberg. The real work is yet to come, and I for one want to know how the Party took over Chromatika and got everyone to follow that damned system. There has to be a source, a time before the Chromatik Party. What was the land like then? Why did it fall to where it is now? Until we know those answers and know to prevent it from ever happening again, I won't feel like it's ended."

Those were the words of my fiancee, Luuk Aart, the night when the Party had been overthrown and the Revolution had succeeded. I still remember them to this day, and they were the first thing I thought of when I awoke after that initial day in Eyrods. Yep, everything you've read to this point is correct. The mysterious column of air? True. Turning into a whirlwind? True. Taking us to this room where we should've died while falling, but didn't, and then ended up not being able to hear anything except whenever the floor opened to bring forth food, water, bedding, and bathrooms? True. And most of all, that voice that echoed in everyone's minds, welcoming us, bidding us to rest, and somehow behind all this? Yes, even that is true.

You see, I'm a journalist. I work with Jordan. He handles the sports, I handle real world events. All this was making my head hurt. These things shouldn't be possible, but they were. We couldn't be where we were, but we were. And damn it all, the mysterious being behind all this had taken all our belongings, and I couldn't write this down on paper. My memory hasn't been great, but I know how to shorthand very well! That was pissing me off.

As I awoke, I saw the fourteen others around me had also risen, and it looked like we had all waken up at the exact same time. Crazy, I know. There was... Sunlight streaming into the room, except that wasn't possible, was it? Well, now that I thought of it, I hadn't seen a ceiling to the room the night before, and we had fallen a long ways. It had just been so dark...

I looked up, and saw the blue skies, small clouds, and the sun, shining down as if...

Where the hell were the walls?

No, we had definitely been in a circular room the night before! But now, there were none. Instead, there was grass where we had lain, as if it had always been there, and I recognized where we were. Exactly where we had been before the mysterious column of air, except nothing seemed like it had been disturbed.

A sound startled me - it was the wind blowing! The room had been soundproof, but where we were now sure wasn't! I opened my mouth, and said with some difficulty, "What the hell?"

Everyone else seemed to have caught on to what had transpired, and we all started chattering to ourselves, wondering what the hell had happened. Was it all a dream?

That conversation died quickly as we all heard a voice, physical this time, reverberate through the clearing:

"You are safe now. Go, explore, and find me. At sundown, my servants will pick you up again and gather you into the safe house, where you will be protected to rest until the morrow. Go, while there is still light."

"Who are you?" shouted Didi, "And what do you want with us?"

There was no response.

"All right," stated Lani, "What happened to us? Sergeant, do you know anything at all?"

We all turned around to look at the Staff Sergeant, the Medical Sergeant, and the Secret Agent.

"The only thing we know more than you," stated the Staff Sergeant, "Is that the Eyrodi Jungle is full of many wonders. One such was the Red Enclave. Have any of you heard of them?"

Professor Jill Lia answered, "Of course. A rebellion that had no chance against the Chromatik Party, but tried its best before it vanished about thirty or so years ago. Nobody has found where they went off to, nor found any of their members since. The Party almost killed every prisoner they had before they realized that the prisoners simply didn't know and stopped."

"We were told by the Colonel that there might be Red Enclave artifacts here. Nobody goes into the Eyrodi Jungle because it's dangerous, and because it's strange how a temperate jungle could exist in such a climate as Chromatika," said the Medical Sergeant.

"So, while we were seeing how people from different facets of the Color Code could fare together when put into survivalist situations, we were told to keep our eyes peeled. I promise you, though that this... Being? Power? What happened to us yesterday? All new. No briefings on that," finished the Secret Agent.

"Old Man's Shinbones!" screamed Clarissa, "It's dark magiks, it is! Me and you've all 'een cursed! Dis adventurr eez doomed!" The Bonesfolk had a feral look in her eyes.

"Calm down, Clarissa," said Tilda, trying to soften the mood, "The supernatural may be real after all. Not a surprise given the multiverse. The better question is, who is this being, and what does he have to do with your country?"

At the Cosumarite's question, it was Nick who answered. The lawyer's brows furrowed. "In the DTLF, it was always told that the Chromatik Party just happened due to the people rising. I never bought it, but the more I asked, the more I was told not to. It was like the Bronze, Silver, and Golds knew the truth, but nobody else did."

"Bronze, Silver, and Gold?" asked Grugel, "Money?"

Pierre laughed at that. "They were our government, you crazy Farf," he said, "The upper echelon of the upper echelon."

"Ah," remarked the Farf, "Fuck them, then. Your government sucked!"

"On that, we agree," said the Medical Sergeant, "And we not have an opportunity to explore this. It might be dangerous, but I think it's worth a shot. That being said, this is not what you signed up for when you took this Operation. If you want to stay here, you can."

"Are you kidding?" came the voice of Justin, "Miss out on this? No way!"

"We are with you," stated Kelly the high school student, "Let's get going before any more time goes by."

So we gathered our belongings and set off deeper into the forest. It started to get thicker and thicker and the going got rough but for some weird reason it was just enough to walk through.

"Halt!" shouted Clarissa, who was near the back, "Dis 'ere is a door!"

The Bonesfolk wildly pointed at a door that everyone had somehow missed. It was hidden in deep vines, and seemed to lead into a hole of some kind.

"Ladies first?" quipped Nick.

Clarissa grabbed hold of the door handle and pried it open with a loud creak. The sunlight hit it, and then innate light appeared from within.

"Something's written here!" shouted Nick, "Welcome to... Heaven?"

The Staff Sergeant went in first, and said, "It looks safe enough. Come on!"

With that, we all went in one by one and started exploring.

[Yesopalitha]

One day, Yesopalitha had just vanished off of Mystrian shores. Since then, the land had been floating. Still in one piece, but floating. Couple weeks ago, Rushmore had been sighted, and Yesopalitha had been allowed to participate in the Copa Rushmori; and then just as fast as that had happened, it was gone.

The land started to shift and change. Slowly, gradually, to the point where the government could make sure that all traffic would stop wherever it was shifting and that nobody would be injured. Freedom's Altar to one side, the Hampton Cities to another, and Hansbrough, little Hansbrough, started to shift by itself. It really seemed like there were five distinct landmasses that began to form.

Nobody screamed, nobody blinked. Yesopalitha went as Zaiden saw fit, and if Zaiden wished the land to separate? So be it.

Starblaydia to the south. 95X to the east. Chromatika to the northeast.

And then a message appeared in Nirdasil's mind:

"Only if the Atlantian Oceania Cartographic Institute allows it."

"How will we know?" the Dark Crusader asked.

"I'll let you know."

And that was that.

Yesopalitha was now in Atlantian Oceania... For now.

In New Danican, Nadya Dostoevich, who else? Scored a late goal to allow the Flames another three points at the expense of the hosts. Home against West Violence, and then... Turori. Valanora.

Time for one last warmup.

[95X]

Note: As 95X has a noticeable segment of the population that are conjoined twins, parents sometimes give them one name, which one twin or the other spells backwards to differentiate themselves from each other should they have shared yet distinct personalities. It is also common for dicephalic twins to identify as 'physically one, psychologically two' in social situations. But this is all up to the individuals/twins involved.

Part One Here

A Riel Epilogue: Part 2

"Sisann!", two voices shout in unison as exactly two arms extend to greet the visitor.

"It's good to see you again, Leann and Nnael," Riel said to his dicephalic former girlfriends, who seemed to be somewhat surprised in their close hug.

"There's something different about you," Nnael (the twin/head on one's right) said after Riel was greeted and seated in the apartment's small living room.

"Well," Riel explained, "I left here as a boy and arrived in Brenecia a girl."

"With no one to support you?" asked Leann (the left twin/head), who had an obviously rebroken heart.

"I didn't know how to tell you at the time," Riel responded.

The three awkwardly stared at the empty space between them for a while. The twins were older now, but still thought about Riel and followed North Hall from afar. The twins hoped 'he' would return, woefully emotionally unprepared for what Riel just said.

Leann broke the silence as she sensed Nnael was tearing up and about to cry.

"I'm not sure what to say," she hesitated. "But you are still a very important friend, for two more reasons."

Since the twins were not in sync, attempting to walk would have disastrous results.

"Kids!" Leann called, explaining how the once-wiry and petite conjoined twins were now more feminine in appearance.

A boy who looked just like one of the conjoined twins appeared. Then, a girl who looked just like a young Sisann appeared. They looked to be the same age, and were the result of the last time Sisann spent with their moms.

"Kids, meet your other, uh, 'mom'," Leann said.

The kids shrugged Riel off and ran back to their playroom, despite Leann reminding them not to run in the apartment.

"I'm sorry," Riel responded, unaware of how serious their relationship was.

"We're not," both twins said in unison, while warmly smiling at Riel. Riel wasn't sure how to reply, since it represented something they no longer identified with.

"Even though feeding four months got difficult," Leann said, "we wouldn't give them up for anything," Nnael finished.

Riel knew they left a life of uncertainty that they didn't identify with, only to return to more uncertainty. Riel did know North Hall was the best move they made. Riel thanked the twins for their hospitality but felt it was time to get going.

When Riel returned to Oceanside, they immediately returned to the international ferry docks, and asked where the next barge was headed.

"It's an interregional to Pony Lands."

"I'd like a one-way ticket."

[Mriin]

"Not going to plan, huh?" Maas clearly hadn't heard the old proverb about poking an angry dragon.

"No, being down two-one before the half was not in the plan. You're a real psychic." Don seemed conflicted about whether he should snort smoke or just snarl at the young back.

"That Ben Hassi guy is giving Uhlon a whole lot of trouble."

"He's not showing any respect for Uhlon's... aggressive style."

"So that's why the big guy decided to just flatten him?"

"I hate that sort of stategy, but when you build your game around having a rough reputation, you can't be full of empty threats."

"Even at the cost of giving free kicks to a free kick specialist?"

"I don't have much of a choice here, Our wideback depth is abysmal! Meryn's a good kid, but he's not played a single game of international football. I'm not throwing him onto a foreign field against one of the better teams in our group."

"I don't know, I feel like a Baptism by Fire would be pretty appropriate here..."

"...take up any more of my time to set up a pun and I will literally set you on fire."

---

This is... probably not good. Joren could tell Solara was in her zone, which is usually a great thing--the secret to her prolific scoring was her ability to shut out everything else and put everything into getting the ball past whatever's in front of her. But that only works we're the ones putting on the pressure. The Amalen were playing to impress the home crowd, and that was decidedly not the case. Neqrouz is running to cut her off and I don't think she's registered that.

For Solara's part, she had perfectly mapped out how to get past Ouyahia. Move like you're going to break hard to the right, but kick the ball forward and left, past his weak side. Dig your right hoof in hard the bounce all your momentum left and be through in two hops. And it worked, the breakneck pace nullifying Ouyahia's immediate realization that he was on the wrong foot. But Neqrouz was already sweeping in behind him, there was no way she'd get a clear shot at the equalizer--wait, what was that?

It wasn't the most overt thing in the world, especially with the roar of the crowd drowning out any sound, but all the players facing the Mriin bench caught a glimpse of an unnatural light. And that half-second Nagrouz paused to confirm that there was indeed someone rolling on the ground with an arm cloaked in flame, hoof met ball with tremendous force.

---

Vicky was pissed that business matters had kept her from watching the Kel Assuk match, but that's the way things roll. At least she could check it out in the paper; surely the back-page headline would be about it.

Maal Memoirs
Sports

"Fiery Temperment Earns Mriin Manager Suspension!"

"...what???"

[Eshan]

Rosaria Daily Herald | Sporting Section
Shitty First Half Saved By Second Half Magic

The match against Eastfield Lodge was one that all Echani fans looked forward to tremendously. Not only were the pot 3 team in the group, sitting eight places behind Eshan in the Kaze-Progressa Bedistan rankings, but Eshan and Eastfield Lodge were drawn together in the qualifying campaign for the 78th World Cup, when they were ranked 35th in the world and we 42nd. What a great campaign that was, beating Eastfield Lodge 2-0 and drawing 2-2 in our two matches, and also drawing and beating The Holy Empire in what is undoubtedly one of our greatest ever football moments. So there’s certainly a little bit of a rivalry between Eastfield Lodge in Eshan, born out of the fiery combat of World Cup qualifying. But Eshan was on the up and up heading into this match, leapfrogging Eastfield Lodge in KPB rank and looking set to take the world by storm. So there was a lot going on in the buildup to this match, a lot of passion, a burning desire to win. Add on the fact that the Echani population is horny with patriotism and ‘Fuck yeah Eshan’ sentiments as the country SMASHES! Those few remaining loyalists to ‘Lord Almighty’ as part of a multi-national coalition against the rapidly capitulating loyalist forces. But anyways, we’re here for football, not international politics, so let’s take a look at the match against Eastfield Lodge.

Alexio del Nieran stuck with his tried and true starting 11 lineup, which makes pretty good sense considering the majority of that lineup helped us qualify for the World Cup proper in WC78 and it’s the exact same starting team that got us to the AOCAF final, so there’s a lot of talent out there and the lads had to be feeling at least halfway decent going into the match. The ref blew his whistle and with that, it was game on!

Truth be told, the first ten minutes were an absolute disaster. The Eastfielders were relentless, they were like hounds that had been starved for a week and then placed into a cell with their former master who had abused them all their lives, they were vicious. Every ball was contested, every Echani pass and player was hunted down, the tackles were hard, the Eastfielders were giving it 1093%. The Echani simply didn’t match that intensity, they couldn’t, it was almost inhuman and that passion paid off in only the sixth minute, when they went ahead after Aurélian Gautier’s goal kick was won out of the air by the Eastfielders, and with a long ball out to the left wing and the subsequent cross sliced into the middle was met by a powerful header, and it was 1-0 to Eastfield Lodge. The Echani players looked totally shell-shocked and couldn’t adapt to all the pressure coming at them, and spent the rest of the half being relentlessly harried by the Eastfielders, who were playing their hearts out, absolutely superb defensive effort and were rewarded in the 42nd minute with a second goal, and as the half-time whistle blew a dejected looking Echani team marched into the tunnel to try and regroup and come out guns blazing.

There was one substitution made at halftime, with the better finishing and more ‘go at goal’ minded Magnum Cerelius coming on for Marshawn Mercury. There was a bit of a tactical change, with Marco van Ciavatinni going central in the striker's position, with Anthony Baudelio curiously shunting out to the left wing, and the two footed Magnum out on the right. It was certainly a more attacking lineup, but putting the powerful Baudelio out on the right wing was definitely a bit of a head scratcher moment and left us all confused. Then again, Alexio del Nieran has proved his brilliance time and time again, so surely he had something brilliant up his sleeve. And he did.

The Echani playstyle was much different the second half, usually we send most of our attacking movements through the center due to our midfielders technical skill and superb passing ability, however in the second half against Eastfield Lodge it seemed that our attacking plan was to send the ball out wide to the fullbacks and let them charge up the field as the Eastfielders inevitably hunted down the ball on the outside. This lead to space being opened up in the middle, and the fullbacks would quickly pass the ball to the midfielders, who would wait for the Eastfielders to come close, and then pass the ball up the field or back out to the wing. It became clear what the game plan was, pass the ball and let the ball do the work for us, all while tiring out the team from Eastfield Lodge. With regards to MvC and Anthony Baudelio being reshuffled up top, it quickly became clear that Marco was being used as a false-nine, and dropped into midfield to help support attacking movements, as well as being given the freedom to drift about the field and do pretty much whatever he wanted; when you’re the greatest footballer ever from your nation, you get the leeway to do what you want. Meanwhile, it seemed that Baudelio was being employed as a sort of false winger, staying higher and more central than you would expect a left wing to, so it seemed that Alexio del Nieran was using Marco van Ciavatinni’s brilliant technical and playmaking skills to open up space for himself in between the midfield and defense, while Anthony Baudelio was slipping into the strikers space MvC left vacant. And this worked like a charm.

The second half was totally in Eshan’s favor, and Alexio del Aimbot was rewarded for his tactical switch with a goal in the 53rd minute, when Steven Tadeo pinged in a ball to Jean-Marie Bentacur, who slide the ball upfield to Marco van Ciavatinni, who pivoted, used a body feint to send an Eastfielder the wrong say, before slipping a gorgeous through ball to Anthony Baudelio, who was making a brilliant run in between the right back and center back, and he was in on goal. A lone touche and a cannon of a shot later, it was 2-1 and Eshan was back in it to win it.

12 minutes later, the tying goal came when Magnum Cerelius was hacked down about 25 meters out from goal and a bit right of center, and it was Marco van Ciavatinni who stepped up, swung his golden left boot at it, and was rewarded with a brilliantly accurate free kick goal which curled neatly into the right side of the net, 2-2.

Alexio del Nieran made his final two substitutions shortly after, bringing in Brutus Aurelianus from Alexandria United in for Artemis Montanari in midfield, and Alessio Cernari made his national team debut, coming in for Anthony Baudelio. Marco van Ciavatinni went back to the right wing, Magnum Cerelius shunted over to his natural left wing, and Cernari took up the strikers position at the top of our 4-3-3 formation.

With time running out in the 88th minute of the game, the Eastfielder goalkeeper scuffed his goalkick and the ball was won out of the air by Brutus, who settled the ball and played it out to the left win for the brilliant dribbler Alessio Cernari. Some stepovers and ball trickery later, he sliced into the box and was hacked down for a penalty kick. With seconds left of regular time, Marco van Ciavatinni stepped up to the plate and buried the ball past the goalkeeper. 3-2 Eshan.

Game, set, match. You can’t win them all if you don’t win the first two, and that is precisely what we have done.

---

Revan looked out the thick glass window that separated the interior of the presidential limo from the ‘cool’ 70 degree ‘fall’ weather. To say things were going well for the President would be an understatement. Things were going great for him and the Republic of Eshan. His army had sliced easily through South Covello, backed by the international coalition based in Kawakami Naval Air Station, in the Eastern Free State of Damukuni and with enemy soldiers defecting en masse it had been not a particularly challenging matter to lay siege to the Capital District with minimal Echani losses.

What would come next? Would the allegedly reborn ex-dictator surrender and allow himself to be captured alive? Would he kill himself? Would it be a trap like in the hit shooting game Ring-Ring of Duty 4: Modern Warfare, where Khaled Al-Asad pretending to let himself be captured but was actually long gone and detonated a nuclear weapon, demolishing the city and dealing incredible loses to the coalition forces? A trial after surrender? So many possibilities.

Further, there was the news from the north that Julius Starblayde, Lord Protector of Starblaydia was dead, taken by that only certain god that all men know exist and spend their whole lives running away from it, right into it’s cold embrace. The Lord Protector was gone, and the country and region as a whole collectively mourned the Star blinking out. Revan had sent a communique to their government, a message of condolence and support on behalf of the Republic of Eshan.

The state of the Republic was good. Grand even. Grand indeed. A Grand Republic. Was it too soon to dream? He had climbed to 73% approval rating on the back of his thus far successful military campaign, the nation as a whole rallied to war and yelled support on the back of his fiery speech to the National Congress. They had gone to war and done it well. He had made Eshan into a global force, colonies in two regions, a military in a third, plans to acquire even more within Atlantian Oceania itself. He had built something better than a ‘republic’ like the Creators had meant all those years ago when they had founded the nation, a mere republic of eight islands. Now they had so much more, and he had done it. A Grand Republic. He thought to the departed Lord Protector. Now that was a title. Lord Protector. Strong, powerful. Much more than President. A Grand Republic would need something more fitting than a President. A King. A…something. Something more than a President. A stronger nation needed to be reflected in all aspects. He was beginning to start his re-election campaign, he was certain to be re-elected but he loved the political game too much to not schedule frequent stops. He needed to be seen in public, the people’s King. A Grand Republic and a King, things to think about.

He roused himself out of his daydream, took that thought and filed it away for later thought, and stored it deep in his ambition. If the war finished smoothly, if he managed to add more land to the Republic of Eshan’s banner, if he was re-elected, then why couldn’t he shape the nation as he truly saw fit?

[Taeshan]

It was the first home match of the World Cup 79 qualifying campaign and the red carpet was out as the Purple Knights of Taeshan hosted a new opponent in Rotztotzka. The visiting side would be the first side to face the Knights at home and the Knights played their opening home fixture in the friendly confines of Stairway to Heaven, in MT Ceabring. The home of the Premier League side, Mt Ceabring Thunder, Stairway to Heaven is the smallest home for international matches in Taeshan, but is perhaps the most fan friendly atmosphere around the country. With the fans and the team pumped up for the third match of the qualifying campaign and it showed in the sides 4-0 drubbing of the visitors.

It almost was not fair how easy it was the for the Purple Knights to score on the day. It was rather quick that the scoring got started as Miles Snavely made it 86 international goals with a fifth minute goal. He wasn't the only Knight to find the back of the net on the day, but it wasn't his only goal. With the side up 3-0 late, Snavely took a penalty after Randall Abl Bakr was taken down in the box that would give the side their 4-0 victory. Between his two goals Enrique Fuegahita scored his 8th career international goal off an nice feed from Janson Jewsbury. Fuegahita would return the favor before the first half was over as Jewsbury netted his 2nd international goal.

The win is a nice victory for the Purple Knights but it isn't really what is going to get the Knights to the World Cup. With Eura and Nephara perfect through their first 3 games every one of the highest teams is in good form. The Knights of course head to Nephara in their next match in a tough early test. With two straight victories the hope is the team can ride that on to Nephara and get a draw, that said scoring a goal on the road at a recent World Cup winner would probably be a victory of its own. With the Knights hosting Apox after that, and Eura two games later the team will definitely have to hope their early season form continues in the weeks ahead. If not this campaign may be one that takes forever as they flounder once again in the qualifiers.

[Flardania]

Opening Theme

---

Bonjour et Ohayōgozaimasu Kirishima. Welcome ladies and gentleman the World Cup 79 qualifying edition of the Kitsune Report, brought to you by the Nagatomo Sports Network (NSN), sponsored by Air Pacifica, and Pocari Surge. Here at the Kitsune Report, it's all about Kirishinan sports. With football currently taking center stage and with matchday two of World Cup qualifiers having been completed,150 teams continue the battle for 30 spots in what can be seen as a saturated qualifying campaign. I'm your host, the fan you can count on the most, to bring you Kitsune news, Keitaaaaaaa Woo! Without any further delay let's get grooving to some world cup football once again!

Kirishima 4–0 Astograth Review:

With the Kitsunes having played their previous match against Sarriba to an impressive 4-1 win at the Ostianae Magnaem Centre, the Kitsunes continued their home stand at the Dreamscape Arena located in Kairaku, Koyanagi Prefecture to face Astograth. The Kitsunes came into the game seeking to string a two-game winning streak as well as attempting to take advantage of their homestand against must defeat opponents. Rank 131st Astograth was coming off of a 1-0 win at home against unranked Cataduanes.

Kirishima started off the game aggressive seeking to carry their previous match momentum into an early advantage and simultaneously reduce their opponents feelings of hope. Ichikawa would have a shot for the Kitsunes in the 4' which was off-target. This would not last as the Kitsunes struck in the 10' minute. During a Kitsune possession, Josuke Ichikawa delivered a cross into the box that Yabuta stopped and backheeled to Rin Mizoguchi who slotted it in for a GOAL! putting the Kitsunes up by one. The Kitsunes would have two more chances in the 17' and 25' minute but they were saved and off-target respectfully. The opposition would try to mount an attack in the 29' and 35' minutes but they were turned away by Hojo. In the 43' minute, the Kitsunes decided they wanted a healthy lead at the half as Rin Mizoguchi scored his second GOAL! after a nice through ball from Guidice. The two teams entered the half with Kirishima leading 2-0 with the shot attempts reading 4-2 in favor of the Kitsunes.

In the second half the fans in Kairaku were having a good time as not only the Kitsunes were up on the scoreboard but just by watching the game it was apparent that the Kitsunes were in control. Kirishima would keep up the pressure with two shots in the 64' and 69' with the first being off target and the latter going off the post. The opposition had another shot in the 74' but it was off-target. Yabuta would strike in the 77' after a terrific lead pass by Ubukata who came in for Son in the 74' minute, putting the Kitsunes up 3-0 against Astogarth. Kirishima would have a free kick in the 83' while playing keep away which Izumi did what she did best and scored the GOAL! Kirishima would finish with a Hojo clean sheet. Final score Kirishima 4, Astogarth 0.

Following the match, Seong Mi-Soo, had this to say after the game. "This is exactly how we wanted to start off our campaign as the favorites in back to back home games. We are in a group with the defending champions and a few talented dark horse teams. Results like this are what you need when the press say you are the clear favorites. We worked hard preparing, had a game plan and we executed it. Now we got to move on focus on our next opponent and try to get more points as usual...except now we face the big guns. This is why winning big was crucial in our first two games...Electrum will be a challenge but one we need to take. "

Kirishima 4-0 Astogarth 
R.Mizoguchi(10' 43')    
J.Yabuta(77')
A.Izumi(83)

Electrum v Kirishima Match Preview

There is tons of drama in this next match.The two powerhouses of the group will collide as Kirishima will travel to Electrum. They are ranked 6th in the world and are the defending World Champions. The Kitsunes have a history of struggling against this nation the few times they met up. The Kitsunes performance in this match may determine how they may perform against other big teams. Until next time, Lets Go Kitsunes!

Post by: Keita Woo

[Drawkland]

CHARGE into MD3!

What? An actual link to the results?! Also, updated roster links in the OP.

[Valanora]

In the city-state of Sabinal, a rag tag group of amateur footballers sat in the dressing room of their training center. Like all of the footballing facilities in the state, this one was paid and provided for by the Vanorian football club Raynor City United, as a good will measure to the less fortunate athletes across all of Atlantian Oceania. The club however had no other ties to the facilities or the clubs that used them, merely covering the operating costs for those who could not.

"Hey Miguel, is it just me, or have the Vanorians seemed slightly strange as of late, like they are almost not really here or paying attention to what has been going on around them. Even the gaffer has had that weird half distant look the last few days, right? It is not just me being a bit crazy and thinking the elves are just a little weird?"

"No Victor, I have noticed it to, about a month ago. When I had gone to the viceroy's office to deliver the quarterly reports for my department for him to look over. The viceroy was sitting in his office with a glazed expression and looking out of the window and to the ocean, it took several loud knocks on the frame of the door to even get him to notice that I was there. However he is not the only one, as you said, even the manager has had that weird sort of expression as well, though not all the elves in the city have looked that way. Maybe it is just some weird elven thing?"

"I mean, these elves have been away from Valanora for what, nearly a century now? When Vephrall and Kura Pelland fell, they were the ones that served as the custodians of the land even when there were other nations who would lay claim to the land and tried to set up their own governments. However they never lasted but the elves have, benevolent peacekeepers some call them, colonial overlords from others in hushed whispers. Maybe being away from their homeland for so long is starting to take an effect on them?"

"I have not heard any tales of something like that and if that was true, wouldn't all of the elves that were here in Sabinal be acting in the same way, not just a few of them? Though now that you mention it, it does seem to have had an effect on the older elves, maybe there is some connection there that we are not aware of?"

"There are tales of some of the elves living several thousand years, as even their own calendar has said it has been over twenty thousand years since their Goddess ascended to the Heavens above, if you believe their mythology. Maybe with such a breath of age, they are suspectible to some sort of... I don't know, longing for their homeland? Everyone says that the elven lands are mystical and maybe even magical. Maybe there is magic in Valanora that keeps the elves youthful?"

"I guess it is possible, though if the gaffer is going to be half focused, I am not sure that spells good things for our chances at winning the league this season. You know the fire department thinks that they are going to take the title again and I can not stand to think of their attitude if they manage to win it for a third year straight, it would be so grating. We have to beat them, since we know the police department is not even going to be a factor and the dock workers usually are missing half of their team to colds or work."

"Yeah yeah. Okay, I'll have a talk with him tomorrow and see if there is something I can do to get him to focus on the team so that we might finally win the league again."

[Bonesea]

.

[Valanora]

Tobias Raynor knew that he was dreaming, he was keenly aware of his lucid dreams when they occurred, though not that often. In the dream, he was on the beaches outside of Rinaldi and watching the old wooden ships from centuries before ferry off and into the west, beyond the gold lined horizon and to lands untold. The journey was taken by thousands, perhaps even millions, over the course of time, and all the passengers had a small expression of what could only be described as serenity, though those on the shore watching the vessels disappear past the horizon seemed far more somber and less illuminated than those that had boarded the ships.

That no one attempted to have spoken to him during the duration of the dream, even as he had brushed shoulders against a few of the figures, was one of the leading signs to him that he was having one of his lucid dreams once more. More often than not these occurrences seemed to happen when he was feel unduly stressed or had not had enough sleep in recent weeks. Unfortunately for the Great Leader, not just one but both of these conditions had been true since his meeting with the Arch Priestess about the situation that he and many other leaders had found themselves in. Today he had even received a message from the viceroy in Sabinal that the custodian and civilians there had began to show the same signs. Tobias had seen many tragedies and life changing events in his time as the Great Leader but this foreboding feeling about what might come seemed to have made all those seem small and irrelevant in the comparison to what he was feeling now.

So that when a voice called out from behind him, from a thick set of woods that bordered Rinaldi, it startled the Great Leader. Turning around, Tobias could not see anyone but a small light emanating from the woods, before he heard his name calling out to him once more. With a shrug of the shoulders, he ventured from the sands of the beach and into the grass and then muddy patches of the woods, every few minutes that same voice calling out to him. As he ventured deeper into the woods and the voice became clear, he could tell that the voice belonged to a woman and it seemed to have an angelic tone to it, far different than how the voice of Elune had sounded when she had entered into his dreams decades before. Elune's was a steady but powerful voice that conveyed her confidence, where this one was angelic.

Coming into a small clearing where a stream cut a path, Tobias' gaze came upon a quite tall woman, whose height dwarfed his own as she stood at least a head taller than he did. Radiant blonde hair that cascaded halfway down her back from his vantage point and deep forest green eyes held his attention, though the silver and gold tunic that she was draped in also seemed odd for this time of year. She beckoned him forth to come closer to her and he did so very reluctantly, unsure of just what he was seeing and beginning to wonder if this truly was a dream.

"You are resting son of Silverymoon, but you are not dreaming, nor are you expected to understand all that which is transpiring right now. You are here to learn, listen, and if you choose to, obey."

"Obey?" His questioned asked without hesitation. No one had demanded subservience of him except for Elune and her commands and voice had been missing for four years now.

"Yes, for your obedience is the only thing that may still yet make the reality that you know continue. As for Elune, she will not be answering your prayers and you will not be answering her commands for time beyond time, for her time as the Guardian has come to an end. She is now the light in the dark, the sword of justice, and the left hand of the Celestial Order."

"None of what you are saying is making any sense! Who are you? What is this? What do you mean that my obedience can save reality?"

"I will answer to you what I can, though your understanding is not to be expected, for your perception of reality, of time, of the very existence that you inhabit is so unlike our own. I am Gladerial, I am one of the Celestial Order, the Elder Gods as those of Silverymoon have chosen to call us. We are not Gods or Goddesses in truth, though our existence to those like you would make us appear as such. This, this is me trying to give you and your people a chance to survive beyond the next hour. Though what I say is an hour may be days, weeks, or even years for you. Time is... not definite for us. Yesterday could be tomorrow, tomorrow could have been three years ago. What once was may yet still be."

"I do not understand. Elune was a Guardian, but no longer? If you are Lady Gladerial, legends say you are the one who told the first Elves where to go, who raised Elune to divinity."

"Make still your mind and listen to my instruction, do not ask questions son of Silverymoon. You and your people are starting to hear the whispers of the divine wind of the cosmos, you call it the Calling. You have heard it before but never like this and if you do not prepare yourself, there will be no Valanora, no Silverymoon to save. This is a false Calling, it is happening because the planes of existence are losing their balance and falling out of place without Elune to maintain the merger that she had created. You must find a way to prevent your people from listening to the call, you can not yet travel beyond the horizon. If you do travel to the vast beyond, there will be no shores to welcome you, and all your people will be lost between realities. You are leader of your people, your task is to lead them now from the brink and away from the darkness that would consume them all."

[Nephara]

Al Qurija 2-4 Nephara
(4-2-3-1) 20 - Matraxis; 18 - Asante, 5 - Konoval, 6 - Steelhenge, 19 - Vicelich; 23 - Rowland, 15 - Rosenthal; 13 - Fanaiyan, 21 - Gosforth (c, 14 - Vikmanis 60'), 11 - Strongbow (16 - Aspenwood 60'); 10 - Tregajorran
Goals: Tregajorran 27', Strongbow 36', Rosenthal 42', Konoval 54'

Monica Rowland
Meaning unknown, most likely of North African or Phoenician origin. Borne by Saint Monica of Hippo, the mother of Saint Augustine, whom she converted to Christianity. Associated with Latin 'moneo' (advisor) and Greek 'monos' (one).

Monica Rowland's main trouble was that she wasn't actually Nepharim.

Sure, her father's hometown was Treason, and when he settled north for work the rough Teutonic burr never quite left his accent, but he was a dual-citizen by this stage and had no intention of moving back to the homeland. Her mother was a Holdenberg local, and Monica herself had been born and raised there. She was Euran, from an essentially Euran family.
There was just one issue.
She wanted to play football at a professional standard, and she had the wrong pronoun for that.

She raised the issue to her father, an outwardly brusque but inwardly warm man. With, helpfully, over a hundred caps for Nephara, and the right connections to pull to get his daughter a trial over at Treason.
She tore her hamstring two days before they were cited to begin.
She wasn't about to give up there, though. Treason weren't interested after her recovery, nor were Chatswood - they felt she was too small, and lacked 'passion'. But more phonecalls were made, and she journeyed south, a young, foreign thirteen-year old girl, to Vermillion, and to her father's friends-of-a-friend down at Parrhesia United.
From there, her growth was exponential. She'd been a raw talent, not given the chances she needed back home at an early age, but in a way that just gave her a unique determination. New challenge after challenge was being thrown at her and she found a way past the locals at every turn. She made an easy target for discrimination, as the lone foreign girl supposedly coasting off a famous father, but after an incident that ended with two broken arms (needless to say, not hers) and a close shave with juvenile detention, people generally backed off and left her to her own devices.
That suited her fine. She knew where she had to go - onwards and upwards, and nobody was about to stop her.

After a few years slipping up the age groups, her breakthrough had come through blind luck. The Saints had failed to bring in a new holding midfielder to replace the aging, declining Olaf Womack, a shadow of his leonine former self, and had been forced to look to the academy. Rowland was available, and had been plucked from the ranks - not, in theory, to start regularly, but Womack was so often suspended or injured that she had no shortage of chances. And she seized them, quietly efficient defensively and calm on the ball. The doubters were finally won over and, over the window, the Saints made no effort to hire a new starting defensive midfielder.
Her foot was in the door, and as ever she was able to look at the next step - not just with her club future, but internationally.
Because damn right she wanted international football! She wanted to show Eura what it was missing.

And then the draw happened.

Nephara would face Eura.
Rowland would back Eura any day in that. It was, at the end of the day, her country. Nephara was her convenient arrangement.
And one afternoon, her phone rang - Michael Brandon's cool, calculated voice on the other line, telling her she'd earned a callup to the Cormorants.
Much to her own surprise, as her mind raced with thoughts of World Cups and points proven, her mouth betrayed her. "But what happens when yo- we play Eura? I'm... I mean, I'm sure you're aware of my situation. You knew my father, didn't you?"
"That's hardly relevant, Monica. When we face Eura - if, and only if, you have done enough to make it to the squad - the only thing on your mind should be that you have ninety minutes to make Steve Thompson regret not making this call before I did."

So here she was, in a blue shirt (looked like Audioslavia no longer had a monopoly on forcing Nephara into its obscure third kit) against Al-Qurija, a spirited but ultimately limited side fresh off a good showing in the Baptism of Fire. They took an early lead and won a late consolation but for the seventy minutes in between, the Cormorants dominated.
And Monica Rowland, whose voice stood out like a sore thumb in a sea of Nepharim accents, pushed all thoughts of being a fraud to one side and focused on doing what she did best: winning back the ball and quickly shuttling it forward.
Get that right and the rest would sort itself out.

[Brenecia]

Brenecia 2-0 Damukuni
(4-2-3-1) 1 - Woodgate; 2 - Carrack, 5 - Scrivener (18 - Heneghan 81'), 6 - Szubanski, 3 - Quill; 4 - Gryphon (c), 16 - Drover (8 - Hartsdown 66'); 7 - Trevelyan (15 - Crowther 60'), 11 - Balliol, 13 - Keohane; 9 - Riordan
Goals: Crowthey 73', 86'

Brae Crowther
A hill or borderland in Old English. Alternative form of Bray.

The best way to enliven a match, as always, was the application of pace.
It was a game that needed enlivening, from the Patriots' point of view. First hour had gone 90% to plan - Damukuni, the group's second seeds, had come at them hard, worn themselves out lashing against Brenecia's powerful defensive line, Catherine Gryphon had been a titan in midfield as ever. The other 10% concerned Brenecia's efforts going forward - there simply hadn't been enough of them, and their forward line hadn't managed to stretch the flimsy Damukunian defence.
Enter Brae Crowther, with her trademark swagger, here to change the dynamic.

Crowther was the sort of player who scouts tended to refer to euphemistically as a rough diamond. Yeah, sure, she was fast - really goddamn fast. But she'd only had experience in Kingsgrove - clearly just a flat-track bully, right?
Couldn't cut it in a 'real' league.
Spurred on by the haters, she promptly upped sticks and moved to Chenoworth Harriers in the tail end of the window. Doubtless, though, they'd find something else to single out. They always did.
Crowther had a way of making the game look effortless, or worse; 'fun'. Certainly fun for her, maybe not so fun for the guys she raced past, nutmegged or hurdled en route to her next goal or assist. And having fun, she quickly learned, made the grey-faced legions of Proper Football Men distrustful and even, to some extent, the cautious new-model Bardsley.
Crowther and Bardsley had their differences. Crowther had possibly said some things about set piece defence being 'a matter of luck, basically' and tracking back being 'what Brun's there for', and maybe they couldn't really be taken back, but Bardsley did at least know not to confuse carefree flair with indifference or laziness.
So, when Trevelyan failed, in came Crowther, strutting her stuff on home soil against their most powerful opponents - with one hell of an axe to grind.

The impact was immediate. Her first touch was a vicious half-volley that skimmed into the side netting, close enough to at least give Tatsuyumi pause. Two minutes later, Balliol pounced on a poor pass from Bennett and immediately played Crowther in, she lashed a vicious diagonal ball in to the opposite flank, where Keohane should probably have scored instead of shooting straight down Tatsuyumi's throat.
So she'd have to go it herself, then.
The next time Balliol slipped her possession, she could tell the Damukuni squad was tiring. Most notably, their leftback, Tanaka, was wilting. What better time was there ever going to be to nutmeg him?
Boom. Through his legs went the ball, and suddenly the field opened up as the weakness of the unconventional defence became clear - the gaping hole between their talismanic Matterhorn and all his friends. Crowther ran into it, past him and then slotted coolly past Tatsuyumi.
Arseholes unclenched across the stadium. Brenecia had their goal, so now they'd just sit back and absorb their desperate opponents' pressure, right?
Well, Crowther wasn't done yet. She still had one further scalp to take.
Thirteen minutes later, after Hartsdown more or less just hoofed the ball goalwards, she happened to hit the sweet spot between the four defenders (though swore blind after the match she meant it). Balliol, tiring, wasn't there - but that was fine, Crowther had legs to spare. Matterhorn came out to meet her.
Crowther jinked past him and dragged the ball, impulsively cackling, between his legs.
And then all she had to do was race forward at the goal, so big, and avoid the Tatsuyumi, so small...
... but the hat-trick beckoned. So of course, the finish slid between his legs, too.

Brenecia is a dour country that tends towards dour weather and equally dour architecture. The Patriots play dour football, encouraged by a dour manager.
But as long as nobody tells Brae Crowther, they'll probably be fine.

[Somecoldwetislands]

It was a cold morning, the light was just breaking over the hill and spilling weakly over the village like a lukewarm cup of tea made out of photons. Everything was very still, like a can of coke that's been open too long. The stillness was being broken by the sound of water swishing as oars pulled a smallish boat through it. On-board was the travelling football squad and all the fans of the Somecoldwetislands. In fact, given that these constituted all bar two people from the island (Jumpers (who wears lots of jumpers) and Unhappy Dave), this was essentially a re-population. The boat clanged into the side and Jumpers ambled over to tie it back down to its moorings. The islands populace stepped out onto the harbour wall and walked back to their respective houses, they all smelt of the sea, salty and a bit like fish fingers. Everyone was tired, very tired, but there was only a brief time for rest, they would have to prepare the island for guests soon.

A few hours on Daddy Dave rose out of his bed, which he shares with Woman Dave. He walked down to his lounge, it was time to set the 'bar' up for the guests that might soon arrive. In the kitchen Flatcap Dave, Unhappy and Happy Dave were already preparing a tonne of tasteless mutton stew that looks like unhappiness and tastes like a shoe. On the 'bar' Dave prepared by getting vast amounts of Carrot Wine in bottles on ice and the cheap imported Beer, Cider and Sherry. Once that was done it was off to the National Stadium (a patch of grass) in order to prepare the pitch.

On the pitch he stood and looked out to the sea, it was a predictably grey day. A cold wind was blowing its way in like a giant child blowing raspberries made entirely out of ice cubes. The drizzle came and soaked the joy out of everything like a disliked aunt at Christmas. A typical summers day. He grabbed his hoe and began whacking at the grass in an attempt to shorten it slightly, it was currently knee height which could prevent the ball moving as freely as is desired. He was close to finishing when he saw a figure coming out of the mist.

"Hello?"

"Hi, it's only me" replied the figure, which didn't help identify them much.

"Friar Johnathan?"

"Yeah, that be me."

"A'right how's it going then?"

"Aye, not too bad, pitch all done?"

"Pretty much so, how is the waterlogging?"

"Ah well it's mostly ok, but the back corner over there is wetter than a small child that's been thrown in the sea."

"Aye, is that the one in the sea?"

"Yeah, well, we can just avoid that corner can't we?"

"Yeah, I'm sure it'll be fine. Who we playing today then anyway?"

"New Jarwel, haven't heard of them before but I reckon this one is a must win, they've not won a game yet."

"Well that probably is a good sign."

"Indeed, anyway I'll leave you to it."

Daddy Dave finished of and shot off to his house to welcome the guests from abroad. They were a strange folk, ten fingers and toes uniformly, which seemed to him a bit of a coincidence. He chatted away, but his mind had already moved to kick off.

Several hours, and a vast quantity of cheap booze later and both sides stumbled onto the pitch. The islanders started well, kicking the ball around a confused and rather drunk opposition, Friar Johnathan particularly made hay as he doesn't drink much. He scored twice in quick succession, twisting and turning his way around the off-balance opposition defence and over the opposition keeper who was busy having a nice lie-down. Daddy and Diddy Dave also put one away a piece, with Diddy Dave substituted soon after as he began vomiting profusely. One player who truly shined was Old Granny Sherry, her blood alcohol level always being raised means she was used to playing as such and managed some great linking play forward.

The second half was more of a struggle, making use of some substitutions and also generally managing to sober up a bit. The result began to look like it might be in doubt, a brace from some unknown New Jarwilian striker put them solidly back in the game. But with worry beginning to bubble up, Herman the Hermit took control. He received the ball on the half-way line, and after a short argument with Crinkly Joe, he took the ball and scuttled forward with it like a crazy man crab. He made his way into the box, confusing the opposition defence by waving a large herring around his head. He was one on one with the keeper, the ball was barely moving over the vast, sticky mass of grass and mud but he had a plan. He looked the keeper in the eye, took it one way, took it the other, threw the herring and put the ball in the net! GOOOOAL. All 9 fans who'd come to watch cheered and the final whistle went, signalling the Islanders first ever victory in qualifying.

[Schottia]

Amanda Cunningham

Part Four.

The naked postman.

Gary sat transfixed, as he watched the bird go about its early morning business. Tail up, alert, and bright as a new penny - It was brown, but not a drab brown - speckled, but not untidy. His avian visitor had a sleekness to it - its perfectly preened feathers shining in orange light from the sun that rose on a new day.

Peck-peck-peck. Peck-peck-peck.

Quick as a flash, and with a brilliant innate intelligence, it hopped around the old log searching for grubs and other wee beasties. Then, once its beak was full, it would be off - in the blink of an eye - no doubt to feed its hungry family. In these moments of quiet Gary would sit patiently waiting for it to return. A simple life could be a rewarding life, but it needed some purpose. After a few moments the bird would be back, and the process could start over. Sometimes it would glance at him, but Gary sat perfectly still. There was a mutual trust there it seemed, as footballer and bird became relaxed in each other's company.

'There you are.' Amanda said, joining Gary on his favourite tuft of grass, just up behind the Newcomers' village. She placed a cup of steaming tea and ginger in his hands and sat down - hip-to-hip - with her hot beverage of choice. Gary watched as she blew across the surface of the tea to cool it down - the steam like the haar rolling in of the see on a golden summer morning. 'I couldn't find you when I woke up.'

'Sorry.' He answered idly. 'I had to go over to water the plants, and check on the animals.' He looked down as Amanda's hand emerged from the sleeve of her off-white woollen jumper, gliding over his arm before eventually finding his fingers. Gary was in serious danger of not feeling guilty anymore; he was perilously close to opening his heart up and leaving himself vulnerable. There was nothing like the passage of time to soften one's resolve.

'I thought Stick was watering the plants for you?' Amanda asked, squinting up at him. The sun was already surprisingly strong, as it poured over the lip of the valley, casting long shadows and draping everything in gold. Since leaving the world behind, getting up at dawn was a rare pleasure, which Gary had learned to savour.

'I know, but I don't really trust him.' Gary said with a shake of the head. 'There are a lot of processes which need to completed in a very specific way. Also, when I was in Schottia for a few days last summer, I came back and noticed that he hadn't replaced the net on the strawberries properly. A couple of sparrows had gotten in and ran amok. Once the little rascals get a taste for soft fruit it's like pouring blood into a pool of piranhas. I was out there for days chasing them off with an old kerchief tied to a broom handle before they got the message.'

Poor Stick couldn't get anything right it seemed. The arrangement they had come to, whereby he could live in Gary's potting shed in exchange for helping water the plants on a daily basis might seem reasonable - but the fact that he did so in full knowledge that Gary was sharing a tipi with his ex-girlfriend seemed slightly less reasonable. Things had come to a head ten days ago, upon Gary's return from yet another failed diplomatic mission, where the footballer had been forced to admit his indiscretions. He would prefer to have been punched - Gary was used to being punched, and was actually pretty good at taking it on the chin as they say. However, there were to be no fisticuffs, no screaming matches, and after the two of them had shared a bottle of whisky sat beneath the cherry tree in the orchard, both seemed to have accepted their fate. Stick reckoned Gary had perhaps done him a favour, and while the Schottian thought that was a little generous given his deceitful behaviour, he at least admitted that Stick would benefit from moving on. The conclusion of their negotiation was that Stick couldn't show face around the other Newcomers for a while, and Gary offered him the potting shed for as long as he needed, and even said he could help himself to some of the produce, so long as he assisted with the weeding and watering.

'You and your strawberries, eh.' Amanda punched Gary playfully on the shoulder.

'How do you mean?' He asked puzzled.

'Well, I mean, I dunno...' Amanda found herself put on the spot a little by the unexpected retort. 'I'm just saying you talk about your strawberries a lot... Sometimes... maybe...' She looked the other way as she tried to busy herself with her cup of tea.

'Perhaps I'm partial to a strawberry, but I resent the insinuation that I'm overly preoccupied in their wellbeing.' Gary sipped scornfully from his own beverage, wondering all of a sudden if this relationship was going to work after all. Luckily however, all thoughts of summer fruit were put to one side by a timely intervention.

'Ah, Gary... Amanda. Beautiful morning.' Yogic Dave emerged from the bushes at the back of the settlement. The community patriarch was completely naked from head to toe, hair and beard still wet from what must have been an early morning shower. Whatever method the aging nonconformist was using to clean himself, it clearly wasn't working overly well, as he was still accompanied by that bodily smell, which seemed to go with the territory. It wasn't unpleasant so to speak, just strong; undoubtedly merely the natural smell of a human being.

'Morning Dave, did you sleep well?' The two of them greeted him without too much surprise. People wondering around wearing nothing but a pair of sandals was something you got used to in summer (not that Gary was ever that way inclined).

'Very, very well. Thank you both.' Last time they had clapped eyes on him, he had been leading a group breathing exercise at the top of the ridge. 'Some of your mail must have got muddled in with ours again Gary.' Dave held up a pile of letters, which he hand been carrying by his side until this point. 'Gary Corise, that's you.' He flicked through the bundle before handing him the aforementioned article. 'Just to say, in case either of you two are interested, we were going to have a sing-along around the campfire tonight after dark - you're most welcome. Gary, you do have such a lovely, rich baritone.'

'Thank you.' Gary replied automatically, but he was now more preoccupied with the letter he had just received.

'Anyway. Take care.'

'See you.'

'Cheers.'

And with that the naked postman was off to complete his rounds.

'Ooh, a letter.' Amanda said snuggling back in beside him, now that the tension had diminished again. 'Excitiiiing!'

'Indeed.' Gary grunted, looking at the SFA logo before dropping it on the ground beside him. There was no such thing as good news after all. No single thing that entered the valley from the outside world could ever be positive. A perfect example being the fact that Chloe Rudden had finally tracked him down early last week. He'd tried to make a run for it, but wearing a full apiarist’s suit, he had little hope of getting away from the fastest winger in the Nepharim Premiership. Fear was a good form of motivation when it came to running, and he actually covered a fair distance before his boot had come stuck in a patch of sphagnum moss. After that he had had little choice but to sit and listen, while his former partner told him - at great length - why it was imperative that he hung up his boots this summer. Sat there, one shoe missing, still wearing his UV resistant veil, he was forced to agree in principle to every one of her demands.

'Oh pass it here.' Amanda reached down and picked it up. 'Do you want me to read it and give you the just of what it says?'

Gary sighed. Why was everyone obsessed with him reading his letters? 'If you must; but I'm warning you, it won't be good news.'

'Ahem-hum.' Amanda cleared throat.'

Dear Mr Corsie,

In light of your recent performances at domestic level, you are hereby invited to attend a training weekend at the SFA development complex. The manager has identified you as one of the players he would like to take a look at with a view to making the final selections ahead of the World Cup Qualifiers. While fifty names have currently been put forward, we regret that only thirty-six will be given a squad number for the coming Qualifiers, and selection will be dependent of your performances over the weekend.

Please write back to us as soon as possible to confirm your participation. Your flights, accommodation and expenses will be covered, and you will be paid a fee of two thousand pounds for your services. You will be provided with further details upon your acceptance.

Your Sincerely,

Ron Ewing
SFA

'Well they'll soon get the idea when I don't reply.' Gary sipped his tea as angrily as it was possible for a person to sip tea. 'They have a barefaced cheek making such demands of a person during their summer break.'

'Isn't it an honour to play football for your country?' Amanda asked, and given her limited knowledge of football, Gary's reaction had left her genuinely unsure.

'Well theoretically.' He rolled his eyes. 'If small personal achievements matter to you that much. But this isn't even a call up. They want me to go over there for a weekend, run round a training pitch like a performing monkey, play a couple of practice games, then it'll be: Oh thanks Gary, now bugger off..!

'Oh, okay.' Amanda had no ability to counter his argument, as she had no knowledge to the contrary. 'Would it not be nice to see your mum and dad for a bit though?' The more she thought about it, she had never heard Gary mention his family; he had never been much inclined to speak about where he came from.

'It most certainly would not.' Gary replied, confirming Amanda's suspicions that something was amiss, yet only succeeding in furthering her curiosity. Gary's thoughts drifted across the river, to the man in his potting shed - and yet further to the baying mob in the Chatswood end of Treason, no doubt wanting his head on a pike. He was going to have to have difficult conversations this summer, and that kind of thing really wasn't his forte. He glanced at the letter fleetingly. Had god sent him a way out? 'How about you come with me?'

'To Schottia?' Amanda seemed surprised and a little excited, but did her best to hide the latter. 'Oh I don't know. I don't know if I could afford it. You've seen the tent, it contains everything I have.'

'I'll pay for you don't worry.' He gave her a look to say he was serious. 'If you want to come that is..?'

'Yeah.' Amanda answered trying not to seem overly keen, but barely keeping a lid on it. 'I mean flying is not great for the environment, and those airlines are evil conglomerates - but I guess I've not flown in years - sure, why not?'

'Okay, excellent.' Gary said with a short nod of the head, as if he had concluded a business deal. 'I shall then require a pen and paper with which to reply.' The prospect of travelling with Amanda made the trip suddenly seem a little more palatable for obvious reasons. Moreover, taking the fledgling relationship (if that's what it was) out of the context of the valley and the rift it had cause with Stick, made that seem easier too. Both parties would likely benefit from the space.

'I guess you have a little bit of money stashed away,' Amanda added. 'What with being a footballer and all.' She undoubtedly hoped the answer would alleviate her guilt at having agreed to take his money. If it seemed as if he just had piles of it lying around, it wouldn't feel so much like she was living off of her partner's generosity. Luckily Gary could waylay her fears.

'About ten million, last time I checked.' Gary answered as if it were a tenner. 'I've not looked in a while, but I guess it hasn't gone down much.' He had made three million alone while playing in for a year and a half in New Edom as a youngster, back when the Flockers had thrown silly money at him. Nowadays he was more likely to get bricks thrown at him. 'Something goes in at the end of every month, but I stopped counting.'

Amanda had that face. The face people often had when they found out how much money he had in the bank. Not other footballers, they knew how it was; but with normal people, their jaw often hit the floor at the mention of an eight figure sum. Gary on the other hand, had become acclimatised to it, and part of the reason he could possess such wealth and not feel like a hypocrite was the fact that he often forgot it was even there. He had been asked on occasion why he didn't just give it all away, and that was a good question, one he often admitted he had no answer to. Gary supposed it was probably to do with freedom however, and sadly, with money came freedom. The freedom not to worry, the freedom to bring your penniless hippy girlfriend half way across the world at the drop of a hat, the freedom to decide where you lived -- And it was freedom, above all else, which Gary craved.

[Electrum]

Centralis Herald: Your wrap up - November 29, 2017

Flardania's voodoo continues with a loss in Centralis
Stewart Faraday

Centralis - The Electrumites were just too good at Olympic Stadium today, extending their winning streak over Flardania to four consecutive wins. The Flardanians, who have always trembled at the feet of Electrumites, have always had that understated rivalry with our national team, even if this wasn't really reciprocated by us. Regardless, the Flardanians won't easily forget the two times they were drawn into our group many years ago: they were in the same qualifying group in World Cup 71 and then again at the group stage in World Cup 73 proper, and so far they've received a grand total of 0 points from those encounters. The losses to Electrum which ensured that their teams wouldn't be able to qualify to the next round of their respective competitions were etched into the minds of the considerable Flardanian contingent today (the 'Otaku Army'), who were hoping to avoid a loss. Otherwise, it could be a bad omen for things to come for Flardania -- could Electrum once again force them to not advance to the next round? They are the top two teams in this group, so it's unlikely that this scenario will happen, but stranger things have happened in World Cup qualifying. The only difference this time round is that they are considerably more experienced: it's been six cycles since our last encounter, and today's match was probably the best both sides have put out so far this season.

The Electrumites played comfortably as they cruised to a 4-2 victory against their opponents. Fernando impressed with a header, but really Abigail Knight was the star shooter, with two goals to her name, all taking advantage of corner kicks and being at the right place at the right time. She's had a great season domestically and Vaduz Portcullis, always perform admirably because of her, qualifying for the Globe Cup consecutively now. Suprisingly Moore rounded out the goals for Electrum -- for a defender he was way out of position: the Electrumites would've been punished if the ball was to go back the other way, but luckily it didn't and Moore got the goal, despite the clear gap that had opened up in the Electrumite defence. The Kitsunes did pretty well too, given the circumstances of playing away and not having the advantage -- both of their goals came from being on the counterattack, the part of offence that the Electrumites traditionally struggle with because of our ageing team not being quick enough to catch the ball. Luckily those opportunities were minimised, but it will be something that needs to be worked on should we qualify.

Euran ships enter Islander territory in planned invasion attempt
Pete McConnor

Margherita, Coconut Isle - There are reports coming from the office of the Lord Protector of Coconut Isle, Jim Snakeoil, that he has allowed the Euran military to use the city of Margherita, on the Covello Bay, as a staging point for an imminent invasion of Gregoryisgodistan. It has been a long time coming in this strategically important area in one of the region's perennial flashpoints -- several wars have been fought in the area in recent decades. Indeed, Margherita has been lucky to avoid all wars in the region so far, thanks to Coconut Isle's membership in SETO providing mutual defence and the reluctance of the population to provoke Gregoryisgodistan. Considerations such as the fact that Margherita is difficult to defend from the islander perspective due to the fact that it is closer to Gregoryisgodistan's Capital District (as the crow flies) compared to the islander capital of Cocos, to the far east of the Esportivan region. Although the local population is quite nervous about the incoming military installations that are due to be set up very shortly (already Euran supply ships have entered Islander waters), given the inheritance of Electrum's pacifist philosophy, it is recognised that this locale is the only location that we know of so far that is viable for any international staging point. With other members of the South Esportivan Treaty Organisation (SETO) conspicuously absent, like Jeckland, Gloriax and San Jose Guayabal, only Coconut Isle's lone Covello Bay outpost provides the crucial location for an invasion. Now, it's not only a matter of if, but when, will the invasion occur. With the Islanders wanting to maintain a neutral status and having a look-and-see approach on the situation, it will be more difficult to toe the line given the fact they will be hosting an aggressive power in its shores.

[Gregoryisgodistan]

Victory and Freedom - South Covello Gains Liberty

Early this morning, rebel troops and the foreign alliance moved in on the capital, advanced on the mansion of the so-called Lord Almighty Gregory, and broke into the bunker where the alleged deity and his inner circle were hunkered down. The rebels captured them alive and took them to a prison to await trial. Meanwhile, a special prison is being constructed on what was formerly known as Greglake Island, which will house them if and when they are convicted. Everyone who was a victim of the Gregist regime, foreign and domestic, is invited to testify. A list of charges will be forthcoming in short order.

Meanwhile, rebel leader John Green has been named acting President, with legislative and presidential elections to happen in six months time. There will be a constitutional convention soon as well to set procedures for those elections and future ones, as well as other crucial provisions.

However, the new nation’s name is certain - it shall be the Republic of South Covello. For now, they are using the temporary flag, but a permanent one shall be adopted soon, as will a national anthem.

This is a glorious day for freedom everywhere. The millennium-Old Gregist regime has fallen and we are prepared to usher in a secular democracy in South Covello.

As for the national soccer team, they will continue playing games abroad for this cycle due to an unwillingness to play home games in a stadium named for Lord Almighty Gregory which has been used for public executions, among other atrocities. However, a new stadium, to be called Revolution Stadium, shall be built in the capital, which shall be renamed Freedom City. This will be ready for next cycle. New names for other places are still to be determined based on eventual structure.

The upcoming timeline shall include trials, a constitutional convention, the establishment of national symbols, and much more. It should certainly be an interesting next few months as we watch a free nation be built from the ground up.

It appears Bob Borders, who previously represented several Enemy Crushers and was briefly imprisoned in Quebec for contempt of court, will represent the accused war criminals, while Alexandra Haroldson, a rebel with a background in law, will act as lead prosecutor, possibly with assistance from foreigners. When asked why the defendants would be provided with an attorney instead of just locked up, Haroldson replied “We want to give them a fair trial to prove we are free and democratic. We are going to win this case and send them away for a long, long time.”

It’s a long road to justice and freedom, but we have cleared the biggest hurdles and are heading down the sunny stretch of freedom. South Covello is eternally grateful to all the nations which have assisted in this effort - Damukuni, Equestrian States, Eura, Apox, Mercedini, and many more. This was truly a collective effort to rid this nation of its terrorist government. Freedom is now truly our watchword. If there is a God, and we know it isn’t Greg, may he or she keep our nation free forever. Regardless, may our people work together. May the Rock of Gregoryisgodistan protect our freedom, whether you interpret that to mean any deity which may or may not exist, the Gregoryisgodistani people, or both.

Tomorrow, the sun will rise on a free South Covello for the first time in over a millennium. And for that we are all thankful. Today will be remembered forever as a great day of freedom and victory. There is still work to be done, but the hardest part is over.

As for the slaves, most of them have escaped to freedom knowing they are free. As for the rest, the military (no longer the rebel militia, for they are no longer rebels) is going door to door liberating them. They should all be free within a matter of days, ending that abomination once and for all. It is about damn time. And thankfully we can no longer be executed for profanity. Or flying kites. Or saying “coconut.” Or complaining, riding an ugly horse, sneezing, farting, or anything else. We no longer have to live in fear of execution for one misstep. And all of South Covello will breathe a sigh of relief.