Posted: Sat Feb 13, 2021 6:01 pm
OOC Disclaimer: Soundtrack: Amon Amarth - Tattered Banners and Bloody Flags
The picture fades in to the flickering light of a torch, surrounded by absolute blackness.
The Shadow: Empires have fallen, monuments have crumbled, dynasties have come to an end.
The camera turns around the torch and the light falls onto a tattered banner of the Tikariotian flag, lightly moving in an unseen breeze.
The Shadow: The impossible has become reality, the underdog has survived the so-called 'Group of Death'. Defied the odds of the almighty numbers and the experts. The Dark Tide was seen as the fifth strongest team of the group. Well, ask Newmanistan, Tequilo and Zeta Reka how that worked out for them...
The camera slowly moves down to show two hooded figures, one holding a wooden staff with a carved ravenhead on its top, one with long black hair spilling out of the hood.
The Shadow: Several giants were swaying, ready to fall, Nephara, Baker Park, Zwangzug, Pasarga, they managed to catch themselves, but some did not. Instead look at Tikariot, Savigliane, Vdara, South Newlandia, Poafmersia, all phoenices arisen from the favourites' ashes. Is it a changing of the guard? No, not yet, but the winds have changed. The doors to the exclusive club have been pried open.
And now things shift to Taeshan and Ethane, the stage has been set, the second act is about to begin, with brandnew protagonists. Nephara. Drawkland. Astograth. On paper we are the second weakest team in the World Cup. On paper we should never have managed to actually qualify. Yet here we are.
In the distance a second torch flares up, but too far away to show anything but a flickering dot.
The Shadow: I could go on about how we are so far behind everybody in the rankings, how Nephara is the insurmountable challenge, how Drawkland is physically so overpowering, how Astograth... You see, there are a lot of things that could be said, but do they actually mean anything in the end? All of this tells us about successes already won, of achievements that reflect on the past, not the present or even the future. Sure, they are indicators for what these nations have been able to do, of their strengths. But like I said, if you just go with that, we should not be here. We already overcame the odds to get to this point.
Another torch flickers to life, on the other side of The Shadow, about as far away as the second one that had flared up earlier. He raises his staff high and swings it to the side, apparently hitting a drum. A loud "HAH!" sound tears through the silence, together with a loud clap.
The Shadow: There are things far more important than any past achievements, than any odds or statistics or probabilities. It is all in the heads and in the hearts.
He hits the drum for a second time and the same "HAH!" shout and clap follow.
The Shadow: Drawkland, you know the old trope of "The higher they come, the harder they fall?" Your physical prowess might be an advantage, but any advantage can be overcome, just like every poison has its antidote.
The cadence of The Shadow hitting the drum and the "HAH!" and the clap following slowly speeds up.
The Shadow: If you allow fear to strike your hearts, if you let doubt take root, you have already lost the battle before it has begun.
The next strike of the drum with the same reaction.
The Shadow: We already have been stamped the losers of the group, the ones paying their dues as first time qualifiers. We are the game that is the "must win" for you, otherwise all of your ambitions to advance already are in danger.
The ravenhead hits the drum another time.
The Shadow: There is no doubt in our minds, no fear in our hearts, the pressure is all on you, Drawkland. You are the ones that have to live up to the expectations.
He puts all of his strength into the drumbeats now, getting ever faster until then suddenly silence falls again.
The Shadow: We literally have nothing to lose. And we have not come alone!
Suddenly the camera zooms out and one by one torches flare up behind The Shadow, at first dozens, then hundreds, maybe more, creating a sea of flickering flames.
The Shadow: Drawkland, the Dark Tide has reached Ethane and it is ready to wash over you. Are you?
In the dancing light of the torches, more tattered Tikariot banners and flags are visible, flying in the wind that has picked up.
As one the crowd shouts.
"Morituri te salutant!"
The picture fades in to the flickering light of a torch, surrounded by absolute blackness.
The Shadow: Empires have fallen, monuments have crumbled, dynasties have come to an end.
The camera turns around the torch and the light falls onto a tattered banner of the Tikariotian flag, lightly moving in an unseen breeze.
The Shadow: The impossible has become reality, the underdog has survived the so-called 'Group of Death'. Defied the odds of the almighty numbers and the experts. The Dark Tide was seen as the fifth strongest team of the group. Well, ask Newmanistan, Tequilo and Zeta Reka how that worked out for them...
The camera slowly moves down to show two hooded figures, one holding a wooden staff with a carved ravenhead on its top, one with long black hair spilling out of the hood.
The Shadow: Several giants were swaying, ready to fall, Nephara, Baker Park, Zwangzug, Pasarga, they managed to catch themselves, but some did not. Instead look at Tikariot, Savigliane, Vdara, South Newlandia, Poafmersia, all phoenices arisen from the favourites' ashes. Is it a changing of the guard? No, not yet, but the winds have changed. The doors to the exclusive club have been pried open.
And now things shift to Taeshan and Ethane, the stage has been set, the second act is about to begin, with brandnew protagonists. Nephara. Drawkland. Astograth. On paper we are the second weakest team in the World Cup. On paper we should never have managed to actually qualify. Yet here we are.
In the distance a second torch flares up, but too far away to show anything but a flickering dot.
The Shadow: I could go on about how we are so far behind everybody in the rankings, how Nephara is the insurmountable challenge, how Drawkland is physically so overpowering, how Astograth... You see, there are a lot of things that could be said, but do they actually mean anything in the end? All of this tells us about successes already won, of achievements that reflect on the past, not the present or even the future. Sure, they are indicators for what these nations have been able to do, of their strengths. But like I said, if you just go with that, we should not be here. We already overcame the odds to get to this point.
Another torch flickers to life, on the other side of The Shadow, about as far away as the second one that had flared up earlier. He raises his staff high and swings it to the side, apparently hitting a drum. A loud "HAH!" sound tears through the silence, together with a loud clap.
The Shadow: There are things far more important than any past achievements, than any odds or statistics or probabilities. It is all in the heads and in the hearts.
He hits the drum for a second time and the same "HAH!" shout and clap follow.
The Shadow: Drawkland, you know the old trope of "The higher they come, the harder they fall?" Your physical prowess might be an advantage, but any advantage can be overcome, just like every poison has its antidote.
The cadence of The Shadow hitting the drum and the "HAH!" and the clap following slowly speeds up.
The Shadow: If you allow fear to strike your hearts, if you let doubt take root, you have already lost the battle before it has begun.
The next strike of the drum with the same reaction.
The Shadow: We already have been stamped the losers of the group, the ones paying their dues as first time qualifiers. We are the game that is the "must win" for you, otherwise all of your ambitions to advance already are in danger.
The ravenhead hits the drum another time.
The Shadow: There is no doubt in our minds, no fear in our hearts, the pressure is all on you, Drawkland. You are the ones that have to live up to the expectations.
He puts all of his strength into the drumbeats now, getting ever faster until then suddenly silence falls again.
The Shadow: We literally have nothing to lose. And we have not come alone!
Suddenly the camera zooms out and one by one torches flare up behind The Shadow, at first dozens, then hundreds, maybe more, creating a sea of flickering flames.
The Shadow: Drawkland, the Dark Tide has reached Ethane and it is ready to wash over you. Are you?
In the dancing light of the torches, more tattered Tikariot banners and flags are visible, flying in the wind that has picked up.
As one the crowd shouts.
"Morituri te salutant!"