World Cup 78 - Roleplay Thread

[Eshan]

The Sebio Sentinel
First World Cup Loss; Five Points Behind Group Leaders

Well that was extremely disappointing. Clearly every loss is sucks ass and is the complete worst feeling in the world, yet this particular loss was the first of the campaign so far, and dropped us five points behind The Holy Empire in first place and four behind match-winning Acronius. It’s still early in the tournament, but that gap is worrisome and needs to be cut down on as soon as possible.

It was a classically high scoring Echani game, but unfortunately it didn’t quite go in our favor. We went ahead in the 42nd through a cross from Steven Tadeo on the right wing, who smoothly beat the opposing left back before pumping the ball into the box for Anthony Baudelio to powerfully head it home and give us the opening goal. They were quick to hit right on back by scoring 74 seconds later with a beautiful own goal from Steven Tadeo, who went to clear the ball out from nearly the penalty mark but managed to mishit it so perfectly that it sliced right over his head and into the net. 2-1 to them came right on the stroke of halftime when their forward controlled a shitty mishit pass from Aurélian Gautier and blasted the ball in to the net to send the Echani team down 2-1.

Second half saw our total superiority in play but we couldn’t translate that into a victory. The Acronian team went and scored another goal like jerks in the 58th minute with a admittedly nicely struck free kick and that sorta sounded the death bell for the team. While we continued to to push forward and attack, attack, attack, we just couldn’t come off with a win. Magnum Cerelius scored a second for us in the 84th minute off an assist from Artemis Montanari, but that was as far as the great comeback was going to be.

Better luck next time, we need the three points badly.

[Ceni]

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Elidyr Lyndainium wants to win the World Cup. Can he?

At a seaside pitch in the city of Whitehaven, Ceni's national team practices dribbling around cones with a fierce seaside breeze blowing national team manager Elidyr Lyndainium's long Avaerilonian ponytail up along with it. He blows his whistle to signal a change in the drill, as his assistants monitor the players and their performance. The players increase their intensity as Lyndainium keeps blowing his whistle, while the assistants keep encouraging the players to go faster, stronger, higher. After a couple of minutes, Lyndainium blows his whistle three times to signify the end of this particular session, and the players stop in their tracks, panting and sweating. This is only a typical scene at the new National Training Centre here in Whitehaven as a new manager of the Cenian team attempts to shake things up by bringing everything back down to the basics.

Elidyr Lyndainium has been into football his entire life, although he's never actually played a professional game. His mother played on the Avaerilonian women's national team; his father played college football here in Ceni. Lyndainium followed in his father's path, playing college football at the University of New Oxford for two years until a nasty ACL injury left him on the sidelines for his junior and senior year; he contributed as an analyst and manager from the sidelines, though, and was hooked. At a relatively young age, Lyndainium was given am assistant's job at Myrmidon; later, he became the full-fledged manager of Ceni's best club team. Under his leadership, the team won two domestic league titles and reached the octofinals of the Champions' Cup twice in a row, taking the club to a national record of #18 in the UICA coefficients. Unfortunately, the team was unable to make it much further than that - losing in a lopsided match against Bastion of nearby Eura two years ago, and losing in a closer but no less disappointing match against Flanders FC of Commerce Heights last year. "It seems like a glass ceiling for us," says Lyndainium. "Before I came to Myrmidon, even reaching the group stages was the glass ceiling; now, it's the eighth-finals for the team. Hopefully with Pablito [Numede, former Cenian NT striker and NT assistant] managing the team, the sky will be the limit."

The Cenian sees the same glass ceiling with the Cenian national team as well. "It's definitely the group stages. We always think we're about to do better this one time... and then we reach the ceiling, and we're stuck there." He notes the one instance where the team smashed past that glass ceiling was in their own country - but they couldn't take a great advantage out of it, only reaching the quarterfinals. "We seem stuck, and I don't like being stuck. I wouldn't like the team to be stuck here, ping ponging around between all the ranks inside the top 20 but never actually making a big dent in the top 10. We can do better than that, we will do better than that, we must do better than that. I cannot, and will not, tolerate stagnation."

Apparently, the Cenian FA doesn't tolerate stagnation either. Although they did reach the quarterfinals under former manager Elías Carrasco of Sargossa, their poor performance in Quebec and San José Guayabal - losing to the group's fourth seed Anglatia, as well as failing to make a dent against longtime rivals the Guayabalenses (to date, Ceni has never been able to take a single point from the world's number three side) - made the FA reconsider their relationship with Carrasco, until then Ceni's most successful coach, in terms of win ration. They saw Ceni stagnating, and wanted to change the lineup again, hoping that a different manager could shake up things and produce different results. That's why they brought in Lyndainium - the foreign talent search had proven unsuccessful, with none of the candidates expressing qualities that the FA wanted. Lyndainium at least had enough experience at the highest levels of UICA competition to know how to kickstart a change - and the CFA decided to make a bet on him.

Lyndainium brought in a new perspective on the team, one that has been fundamentally different than other coaches in the past. "Coaches like Carrasco and Koromin, although I respect them as peers and colleagues, have been focusing on the wrong things," he says. "They try to focus on the higher level things, fancier things, more complex and convoluted tactics. I love the maxim KISS - keep it simple, stupid. That's why I've been trying to return the team to the basics, things the team learned at age seven that underly everything else." Things like dribbling, passing, tackling, agility, stamina - things without which the team cannot succeed at all - form the core of Lyndainium's strategy. "It turns out that a lot of our players have slight mistakes in their technique that can be easily rectified, but these little things, when added together, mean that we're good, not great." The difference between good and great is a tiny one, but it's a big gap to breach. It's the tiny things that make a difference - and Lyndainium is working individually with each of his squad members to fix those tiny things.

So far, Lyndainium has also been experimenting with the squads he's fielded for various matches so far, mostly choosing to rest key starters while testing out various combinations of younger and older players. As a result, most of the team's matches have been closer than expected, but with far less goals conceded than usual - which is part of the goal Lyndainium has set for himself. "Part of my goal for this team has been to increase the amount of goals going in the other team's net and decrease the amount going in our own," which, of course, is an extremely simple goal, going back to his KISS mantra. "I'm glad that we've found a way to accomplish the latter goal of ours by working on those basics, but it does concern me a little that we've not been able to work as much on the former goal." Of course, Lyndainium does realize that the defense needed more work in the first place and that with most of the big guns in play, Ceni can score a lot of goals - as evidenced by their thrashing of Nova Anglicana.

Among Lyndainium's most astute observations about the Cenian team is that it's nearing a period of flux as the team's age composition is changing. "Yes, we are starting to reach the point where, sadly, a lot of our stalwarts from an earlier era are aging and are retiring from competitive play, or already have." Kaia Travaran and Jaime del Olmo are already gone; Jacen Xasan and Kel Koromin are reaching the age of retirement already. "It is time for reflection when we realize our formely young stars are reaching their thirties - we have stuck in our heads the idea of Kel Koromin as a twenty-one-year-old - he isn't that any more." Instead of bemoaning this aging, though, Lyndainium is treating it as an opportunity to restructure the team. "We have a lot of young people heading in on the pipeline, and a lot of our players - [Marc-André] Onasi, [Adrián] del Toro, and [Andrew] Arrowsword who are entering the prime of their careers relatively soonish, and we have players like Iain Cyn-Penzag, Asher Koromin, Xavi Caldera only starting to develop." Lyndainium sees the team in a couple of years as one that can definitely challenge with the best of the best, but they just have to get bast this transition point. "I definitely do see this as a point where we're moving from old to new. I really do want to embrace the new here."

The Cenian FA has given Lyndainium a four-year contract, with the optiom of extending it if he has a particularly successful performance as manager. For now, his goal is to make it to the quarterfinals of the World Cup two times in the next two cycles, or the semifinals if Ceni ends up hosting it again. "This cycle, I think we have a chance. Next cycle, I think that chance will be even larger with the young talent that I think we can bring in. I have reason to be optimistic." The team has so much talent, he explains, that if he's able to harness it and build it into a true team, rather than a collection of individual players, the players can accomplish any feat, achieve any goal they set for themselves. And Lyndainium is confident in this fact. His ultimate goal, of course, is to win the World Cup. Asked whether the dream is possible under his tenure, he replies with a simple answer: "Yes."

[Kel Assuk]

The Road to the World Cup
Chapter 3: Lopsided at Löptsegl

Eric could easily imagine a headline in the Marandet Griot or Kel Assuk Online: "Desmond Sacked Because Kel Assuk's Football Team Still Sucks." Or another: "Kel Assuk Doomed in World Cup Qualifying Because Desmond Is an Idiot." Or maybe a third: "What the F*** Happened to Kel Assuk's National Team?" Eric nad most certainly not anticipated losing to Löptsegl. He had most certainly not anticipated losing to them by this large of a margin. Kel Assuk was ranked almost a hundred spots above their opponents; they had even beaten the nation in the Round of 16 in their Baptism of Fire match, by the wonderful scoreline of one to nil, as part of their third place campaign in that tournament. God, Eric would punch a wall or smash a window at this point; although he wouldn't go to the lengths of Kylo Ren and totally trash a room with his lightsaber (not that he could, anyhow), Eric was frustrated enough to curse. And Eric never cursed. He even got mad when other people cursed. At this point, he felt like a volcano of emotions was welling up within his torso, and that volcano was about to erupt forcefully. He told himself to try not to interact with other people at this point, especially not his team; he would end up taking it out on them. By Margaret, by Elune, by Marlene, by Allah, by God, by Jesus, by Anzar, Kel Assuk deserved to win against Löptsegl, not to lose, and tank their goal difference along with it! He knew what people would say - the country was going to blow their chance at World Cup qualification, especially since they had shown no signs of making any inroad against their higher-ranked competition. The rate at which nations were qualifying as unranked nations and first-cycle nations had raised expectations, and of course the Kel Assuk Board of Sport had naïvely expected that Kel Assuk could qualify on their first cycle. After all, last cycle's third place winner, Drawkland, qualified - why couldn't Kel Assuk?

Games like the one against Löptsegl were the reason. That match was an absolute mess, from beginning to end. That match would go down in history as one of those that whenever Eric thought about it, that wellspring of anger would resurface, and he would be mad - no, not just mad, incensed, furious, enraged. To be honest, the first half started alright; Khalej and Ben Hassi were able to penetrate Löptsegl's normally defensive back lineup, which had stymied them all throughout their Baptism of Fire encounter. Then, all hell broke loose in the second half. Eric had counted on Löptsegl parking the bus and not attacking in the second half, or maybe trying to attack on,y conservatively to try and salvage a point, but he could not have been more wrong on either count. Löptsegl attacked, and they attacked quite aggressively, perhaps figuring out that Kel Assuk's defense really sucked from watching videos of Kel Assuk during the world cup campaign. That was totally weird, thought Eric; even though he readily admitted that Kel Assuk's defense was bad, he didn't think that it was bad enough that a team ranked almost a hundred spots below them could penetrate it all that many times, and he didn't think that a normally defensive team would risk counterattacks with poorly run attacks. Löptsegl's advance must have caught the defense by surprise, though, because what was once a coordinated defense turned into a chaotic mass, with Kel Assuk's four defenders seemingly clueless about what to do with the sudden onslaught.

Things quickly went downhill from there. Ziri Neqrouz got a red card on what was called an "overly reckless tackle," which made Eric doubly mad because it was obvious to everyone that Neqrouz's tackle was just a normal one; in fact, Löptsegl had made several tackles like Neqrouz's with hardly a peep from the referee. Eric considered making a complaint to the World Cup Committee that the referee should get sanctioned from all future matches, but he stopped to reconsider it because he knew he was doing something in the heat of the moment and he might regret this later. He set the matter aside for when he was not boiling over in rage. Anyway, the team mostly disintegrated from there; the defense, which was not all that great with four members, was even worse with three, even though Anaruz M'Hidi was still working double duty. Aksil Saidi-Sief couldn't do much to bring his defense together, and the defense lasted the rest of the match as a tangled morass and an uncoordinated mess rather than the coordinated being that it needed to be while Löptsegl happily took advantage of this defensive lolligagging around by gleefully scoring goals, six of them, with a gusto they had never shown in too many of their previous matches.

Eric really wasn't looking forward to the next match against Abanhfleft. The last time they had played, in the Independents Cup round of 16, it had been a slaughter, with Kel Assuk on the losing end, of course. With the team of course totally crumbling at Löptsegl, Abanhfleft was probably studying the footage in their fancy schmancy team training centers with all 1093 coaches of theirs, laughing, and gleefully plotting to score seven goals - or more - past Kel Assuk the next day. He grumbled about fate and luck, and grumbled, and grumbled some more, but there really wasn't anything he could do in this situation. They were stuck in a rut, it seemed: Abanhfleft would be a frustrating match, frustrating because Eric knew that Saden, Ashur, and Isula didn't really have a chance up front, while the defense would be as charred as a plate of ribs left on the grill for way too long. The mood was shared across the Kel Assuk camp; everyone was demoralized about this extremely dispiriting loss to Löptsegl, and they weren't in the mood to be optimistic about Abanhfleft. Eric attempted to call everyone together for training and further work, but nobody, not even Eric, was really into it; they just sat there, and waited for the inevitable to happen. It would take a miracle in order for the team to even salvage a point against Abanhfleft, much less even win, Everyone was praying for a miracle, but everyone knew their hopes were just that: hopes, nothing more.

[Spaam]

"This is ridiculous!" Takilia Mialee cried. "How could they drop him?"

"You know we have to have the best team," Thalia Fenzana, vice-captain of the national team, soothed. "And they seem to believe that this Syku Lyku is one of the best."

"I don't care that he has skills," said Takilia sadly. "You can't drop a team-mate in the middle of qualifying for someone that no-one has heard of!"

"Well, not exactly unheard-of, Taki," replied James Moreira. "This Syku Lyku seems to be the same one that famous throughout the multiverse over 250 years ago. He led Rejistania to their first World Cup title, and keepers feared him from every nation. I have an old audiofile of that grand final..."

Sirake Tekim: That is the whistle, the extra time ends. All in all you could see that the quality of the match decreased in extra time, maybe due to the fact that all players reached their limits. This final will be decided in the penalties.
Elin Ri: Penalties are perhaps the most random method to determine the winner after tossing a coin.
Sirake Tekim: Surely, but the match went 120 minutes without a winner. Somehow it must be determined.
Elin Ri: I know, I know.
Sirake Tekim: First penalty shot for the Orange-Blues will be done by Kansu Kiru. (a loud cheer is heard, it can't be determined if it comes from the stadium or from the building of RejisCAST) it is in! Goal for the Orange-Blues!
Elin Ri: Now for Audioslavia: Jack Croft, shoots and... NO! (the cheering surely came from the RejisCAST-HQ) Daki expected the ball in the other direction. Equalised again.
Sirake Tekim: Who will do it for the Orange-Blues now? Jen Y does... Oh no, missed! If the 'slaves hit now, they have an advantage.
Elin Ri: Now for the 'slaves: Nicky Shearer. Takes a run and... NANA SAVED!
Sirake Tekim: The next one shooting is... Saka Syku. Syku'he shoots, (a loud 'NIIIIIIL' meaning no is heard) He only hit the crossbar.
Elin Ri: Now the Orange-Blue can fall behind again. For Audioslavia: Iain Maiden. Will he score against against the Orange-Blues? (a loud 'NIIIIIIL' answeres his question) The Orange-Blues are behind 2-3.
Sirake Tekim: To all gods in Lemmitania and Rejistania, please help!
Elin Ri: The Rejistanian gods will surely try. The number of sacrifices has reached an all-time high.
Sirake Tekim: Now, oops, is that...?
Elin Ri: Nana Daki. He also has quite a record of penalty shots in Hades Lavamje. YAY! Equalizer!
Sirake Tekim: k, now I announce the 'slavian, who'll try to defend the lead... it's Paul Ward. JEH! He missed wide!
Elin Ri: This is the fifth and all-deciding penalty shot. Whichever side increases the score now will be world champion. Well, unless both sides score.
Sirake Tekim: It's SyLy! He prefers to shoot penalties 'icelandic'. He does it now... The 'slavian goalie can't get it! 4-3 for Rejistania!
Elin Ri: Let us all hope that the 'slave won't succeed. It is O'Hara'he... He shoots... HE MISSES!
Sirake Tekim: (his voice sounds unbelievable happy and unbelievable overmodulated, despite this he isn't heard good through the cheering) REJISTANIA IS WORLD CHAMPION!

"SyLy?" asked Thalia.

"Yes, that was his nickname," answered the Guayabalese man. "One of the most well-known names in football. This was his last match for Rejistania, but he was a hero for that penalty."

"You seem to know a lot about football history, James," Thalia said, smiling.

James grinned. "Well, I've always been a nut for the sport. Ever since I was a child. Books, movies, the internet. Anything I could read or see or listen to." He shrugged. "That is why when I had the chance to play for you, for Spaam, I jumped. We had no chance to return home, but to play for a nation that featured in so many history books... It is a dream for many football fans."

"Well, we're glad you joined us," said Thalia, patting the man on his back.

"We all are," agreed Takilia, "our defense has been rock-solid with you and Daniel on board!" She suddenly frowned. "But our attack has been good enough, with Merlara, and even Urk. We don't need another one like that zucchini."

"What do you mean another one, Taki?" queried James.

"You know... like a robot," said Takilia, thinking. "They don't talk, just play. They're like, obviously not robots or anything. But they're... I dunno... creepy."

Thalia looked at the younger girl thoughtfully. "I know, but they're part of the team now. And we will have accept our situation. You have to admit though, this winning thing is good."

Takilia smiled despite herself. "I guess."

---

"Quakmybush is pulling back, backing up their defense, but Sehelin is on the attack. She's got support, but she's not giving up the ball yet, trying to draw some more players towards her. The Spaamanians are getting into position for some close play, and she finally passes... to Syku Lyku! He's around one and shoots and SCORES! GOAAAAAAAAAL! SyLy has made the breakthrough in his first match and the Orange and Black fans are going nuts! We've had over an hour without score but Spaam has finally taken the lead with that perfect shot from SyLy, and an amazing setup from Merlara Sehelin, who has been worth her weight in gold on this team. Spaam are now ahead, one goal, Quakmybush, nil..."

---

Thalia was thoughtful after the match, as her teammates celebrated in the team meeting around her. While she was naturally happy to win again, the two new members of the team had her unnerved. 'Not aaruth' was the phrase Eletha Gilhana had used, and it had stayed with her, bringing it back to the stories she had heard in her childhood. There was something unnatural about them, no matter how naturally they looked and moved and played. They just didn't seem to have anything inside, no stuluk. And if rumours were right, they weren't to be the last ones.

"Are you all right, Thalia?" asked James, with a look of concern on his face.

He broke Thalia out of her funk. "I'm perfectly fine, thank you," she said, smiling. "Just tired, after another hard-fought win."

"Ahhh yes, all these wins, they are hard, no?" James grinned at his vice-captain.

"Very hard," agreed Thalia with a matching grin. "Who knows how long our luck will last?"

"And if we beat Allahakbarium next week," added James, "this will be Spaam's longest winning streak in World Cup competition."

Thalia ruffled the defender's hair. "You're such a nerd James, and we love it."

[Abanhfleft]

*Warning: All statements made by persons within this series are theirs and theirs alone, and do not reflect the views of the Fleftic Football Federations, its staff, coaches, players, and other affiliated personnel.

The Games of Their Lives, World Cup Edition (Part One)

Abanhfleft v Barunia, Cup of Harmony 63, Krytenia (Part Two)

2-2 the score was at half-time. Everyone knew that there were going to be a lot of goals coming into this game between Abanhfleft and Barunia, and everyone was also feeling at this point that there were still quite possibly more goals on the way. And boy, were we about to be proven right.

Barunia started off the second half, and they immediately used their possession of the ball to impose heaps of pressure upon the Lady Revolutionaries, but to their credit, our girls stood firm and held on, at least until the 56th minute. Miguel Manzana, who had already fired a few shots at Vicky Carter's goal, was about to finally add his name to the score sheet. Dawn Jackson, stalwart defender of the national team and Ludogorets Markovsky Ladies, talks about the goal in which she played her own special part.

"We were holding up well to the Barunians' pressure right up until that moment," Jackson said during the interview. "By that, I mean that we were keeping the Barunians to making short passes among themselves, not letting them get off any crosses or long balls or that kind of thing. That was how we withstood their pressure then. But then while we were trying to mount an attack after we had finally managed to get the ball, someone's pass, I can't really remember whose, got nicked by the Barunians, and then they were hitting us on the counterattack. Claire [Osgood] tried to stick to the Barunian guy with the ball but he was just a touch faster than she was, and then he let loose with the cross."

A clip of the chance which Jackson is describing begins to play. Barunia's number 29, Ricardo Del Toro, was running with the ball at his feet and Claire Osgood, Abanhfleft's number 2, hot at his heels. Osgood's defensive work forced Del Toro to take to the left side of the pitch with Osgood hanging on to him like a tenacious English bulldog. Del Toro then puts on a burst of speed to evade Osgood and then he plants his left foot into the ball and whips in a cross into the box, where Miguel Manzana of Barunia and Dawn Jackson of Abanhfleft are waiting. Both Jackson and Manzana leap in an attempt to get to the ball but Manzana is both physically taller than Jackson and has a higher jump range and therefore he gets to the ball first. All he needs to do is a simple nod of the head and the ball is now in the back of the net.

"Forget about being one of the best defenders in the league," Jackson muttered as she watched the clip play. "Jumping range can only take me so far before someone else can jump higher than me."

One of the simple physical facts about the Lady Revolutionaries is that for their skills, their heights are not exactly up to the standard heights for footballers, whether they be male or female. Hey, even Chelsea Stuart, Alexandra Rousseau, and Allison Torres are shorter than some of their male counterparts. But most of the time though, their sheer talent with the ball outweighs the physical considerations such as height and whatnot. But it's also not a secret that opposing teams often take advantage of the height disadvantage as much as possible to get results against Abanhfleft. Even then, there are times and there will always be times in which opposing teams will still look good even though they used the height mismatch against Abanhfleft to their full advantage. Miguel Manzana's goal against Abanhfleft in the Cup of Harmony was one of those times.

"No question about it, certainly," Dawn Jackson agreed. "This is one of those goals where you feel that it would have gone in whether I was defending Manzana or not and it just happened that I was the one supposed to be marking him when he went up to head the ball in. Now I'm part of the picture of one of, in my opinion, the better goals of the Cup of Harmony. Well, this particular Cup of Harmony anyway."

How long was it going to take for Abanhfleft to recover from this third setback? Judging by the times the goals were scored won't be of much help because Verity Michel scored Barunia's first goal at seven minutes before Chelsea Stuart equalized in the fifteenth minute, and then Barunia got back the lead through Thomas Marsh before Bella Maynard singlehandedly pulled us back on level terms once again just two minutes from half-time. The timing of the goals wasn't much of a clue, but perhaps it was just as well as if anyone knew just how soon and how many goals would be scored by Fleftic players after Manzana's goal, it would have given them a hope that their team and their country might just possibly make it through to the quarterfinals. And, as we will soon find out, there was a reason why hope was inside Pandora's box alongside all the other evils of the world.

We return to the strike partnership of Chelsea Stuart and Alex Rousseau, arguably one of the best strike partnerships Abanhfleft has ever seen since the days of Matthew Cave and Finlay Jameson. At first glance they're like two very opposite people: Chelsea was willowy and Alex was stocky; Chelsea was brunette (some of the time, sometimes, she dyes her hair blonde) and Alex was always and will always be raven-haired (or so she says); Chelsea grew up in the provinces while Alex had always been an urban girl. Before they went to college, the only thing they had in common was their shared interest in the beautiful game. But once they went to RIuwiee State University and became part of the football varsity program, their friendship was formed. Maybe it was because of the fact that they were two different people that they became the best of friends.

"I can't describe it in words, per se," Stuart said as I interviewed her and Rousseau side by side. "We were both good players, like we were both on the same level as some of the big names that were around at the time like Steven Hansen, Konstantin Telsdoj, David Osisek, and the others."

"People thought that we were going to have some kind of rivalry going on between us because we were both so good and we were both strikers," Rousseau added, "but then Chels and I surprised everyone by becoming friends and, even better, it turned out that we were already friends with some of the rest of the team, like Sonny, Lilly, and Addie, and it also turned out that we all worked best playing with two strikers up front so that's how not only the Mythical Five came to be, but also how Chels and I came to be so good at being strike partners."

"Yeah, what we used to say back in Riu State was that you would be the battering ram shoving the opposition away while I ran into the space you created," Stuart added as they began reminiscing about their college days.

"Hey, this is the first time that I'm hearing about this," Rousseau said. "Did you guys really call me a battering ram?"

"Well, that's what you almost always do, even today!" Stuart claimed. It seems an almost amazing coincidence that they began talking about Alex Rousseau's ability to hold up the ball while waiting for her teammates to arrive in the box because this was how Abanhfleft got their third equalizer.

"Oh, wow," Rousseau said in reaction when she watched herself in action. "I really am a battering ram."

The clip of Rousseau and Stuart's combination teamwork to score Abanhfleft's third equalizer plays. As Stuart described, Rousseau drives at the Barunian opposition with the ball at her feet and there is nothing that the Barunians could do about it. She runs right up to the goal area before suddenly making a back-heel pass to Stuart, who suddenly appears behind Rousseau, and all she needs to do is send the ball into the top right corner for her second goal and Abanhfleft's third.

"The way you just swept aside those Barunians, girl, oh, I'd do anything to be half as good as you are with holding up the ball," Stuart said after the clip had ended.

Up next is Abanhfleft's fourth goal and the goal that gave us the lead. Stay tuned for that and the moment that every heart which beats for Abanhfleft was broken. This is The Games of Their Lives.

---

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WORLD CUP 78 QUALIFIERS: ABANHFLEFT VS BONGO JOHNSON
By Malik Qazizadah


Abanhfleft women's national team players celebrate Tonya Heaton's goal in their win against Bongo Johnson at the Monsanto Stadium in Releinthi. (Courtesy of Crescent News Network Sports Channel/Andros Tasasa)

RELEINTHI - Tonya Heaton's header proved to be the difference as Abanhfleft barely managed to triumph over visitors Bongo Johnson at the Monsanto Stadium for the World Cup 78 qualifiers.

Heaton's goal came after she applied the finishing touch to Lillian Prescott's corner.

Before Heaton's goal, Abanhfleft had applied pressure upon Bongo Johnson but found the visitors' defense hard to break down to put things mildly.

The Lady Revolutionaries' best chances to open the scoring in the first half came from lashing strikes from Chelsea Stuart and Allison Torres, but Stuart's strike flew straight into the hands of the opposing keeper and Torres' attempt kissed the top of the crossbar before going into the stands.

In the second half, Lillian Prescott should have scored the first goal of the game when she looped the ball over the keeper but the linesman had already raised his flag for offside, a decision that would prove to be correct but only by the finest of margins.

Substitute Zsofia Dolan then had a golden opportunity to make sure of the victory in the dying minutes when the ball landed kindly for her but the Ludogorets Markovsky Ladies striker fluffed her lines and somehow conspired to send the ball into orbit from six yards out.

Old problems resurfacing?
Holly Jonasson's experimental 4-1-3-2 formation utilized against Tumbra last month proved to be effective for the Lady Revolutionaries' 5-2 win over the Blue Lions at their home and it seemed as if she was going to go ahead with deploying the same formation against Bongo Johnson.

But then illness issues with Alexandra Rousseau forced Jonasson back to the 4-2-3-1 formation that has earned her some ire from Fleftic fans who claimed that the latter formation is not good enough for a team of Abanhfleft's caliber.

And while Abanhfleft did manage to win over Bongo Johnson today, critics will point to the fact that only Tonya Heaton's solitary goal separated the Lady Revolutionaries from their opposition, a far cry from the high-scoring games of only a few months ago when Abanhfleft was able to utilize all of its starting five attackers.

Abanhfleft women's team manager Holly Jonasson: "It's not perfect, yes, but a win's a win whichever way you look at it. Even then we could have and should have probably won by a bigger margin, with more goals. The offside call against Lilly [Prescott] was sad, but you can't deny the replays. It would have been one of the better goals of the season otherwise if everything had gone her way."

On the hot conditions at Kel Assuk: "Yes, I've read the reports, and the conditions are definitely not going to be the most optimal for the gals. But I'm confident in their ability to adapt. They're big strong girls. They can do what they're told without too much complaint. I have faith in my team."

Abanhfleft will face Kel Assuk at the Tin Hinan Stadium in Marandet for the Lady Revolutionaries' seventh game of the World Cup 78 qualifiers.

  ABANHFLEFT 1 - 0 BONGO JOHNSON
HEATON (63')

ABANHFLEFT
GK: 13 Foulke
RB: 14 Warren
RCB: 15 Hannibal (Jackson - 70')
LCB: 18 Samaniego
LB: 16 Heaton
RM: 5 Maynard (Vance - 53')
LM: 6 Choi
RW: 7 Prescott
CAM: 10 Torres
LW: 8 Singh
RS: 9 Stuart (Dolan - 80' █)

STATISTICS
Possession
Abanhfleft: 57%
Bongo Johnson: 43%
Shots
Abanhfleft: 13 (6 on target)
Bongo Johnson: 4 (3 on target)
Corners
Abanhfleft: 8
Bongo Johnson: 4
Fouls
Abanhfleft: 15
Bongo Johnson: 14

[Mriin]

"Take it!" Solara's voice cut through the miasma of bodies piled up in the Buyan box.

Aldo and her had both just made a hard cut in from both wings, where Aldo chest-bumped a long rainbow pass from Janna across. His momentum carried him into Kristupijas Dobrovolskas--both remained on their feet but were tangled enough to effectively be out of the play from that point on. The bump was even off-kilter, she didn't have an angle to get her horns on it productively, so she pitched forward on her right hoof and brought her left around in a roundhouse, praying nobody got in the way--and thankfully, only it made contact with the ball. It popped back the way it came, angled slightly forward--on the way to slam into the inner-left side of the net, but that's all she saw as she followed the kick through, spinning around and landing on her ass.

She was surprised to see the ball again when she landed. Pawlo had just gotten a fist on it, confident he could reach it and wanting to get it as far away as possible; it bounced three feet in front of the goal and took a long, low hop out of the box. Right to a Joren who'd just run up from a conservative position, anticipating a counterattack.

As Joren watched the ball inexplicably rebound towards him, many thoughts crossed his mind. Solara and Aldo are out of the question. Wanny's nearby but his view is blocked by three backs. Malia is too far back, Kalia is too far out, Janna hasn't had a shot on goal in seven years. Where do I put this?

That's when Solara's shout got to him. Before he knew what was happening, it was rattling behind a dejected Marciak and the home crowd was groaning. The Buyanese were far too used to seeing early deficits this cycle, the team severely underperforming for both their legacy and talent. Such as leaving a lane through the box wide open like that, not giving their keeper any time to recover from one save before the follow-up gets slammed past him.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" bellowed Don from the sideline, barely trying to suppress a broad smile. Joren was the closest thing he had a protege, and as much as he loved the forward's analytical mind, the game isn't always about that. it took a little help, and a disorganized opponent, but the quick turnaround on his advice was wonderful to see.

It wasn't a fun time for the home team trying to tie things up. The Mriinian defense may not be the most solid in the tourney, but the Buyan offense was even less stable. The young Emil Eklund often found himself being double-teamed by Mari and Janna, giving him very little room to make anything happen; that opportunity afforded to the defenders as the Buyan midfield played extremely conservatively (whether intentional or not). Jannick Brems was hotly contested by Gerard, likely the best back Mriin has to offer, which left him out to dry. A few fancy passes in the midfield would keep them awake but a drive never truly formed, and eventually Janna forced the issue knocked the ball loose from Henrikas Dobas. Rolling in open space, it was a prime opportunity for Solara to get her hooves on it, and she didn't miss the chance; and, once again, the Buyanese defense didn't have their bases covered. She strolled through to the right wing uncontested, and simply ran past Espen Raestad as he scrambled to try and challenge. Marciak managed to get a glove on the ball, but not enough of it, and the bullet to the top-left rolled off his hand and into the net.

Come the second half, it seemed like the life had left the Buyan side. They had managed to force a 2-2 draw earlier that cycle... against the lowly Loynn. After all the trouble their team had been going through, the thought of scoring twice against arguably the hottest nation in the Cup must have seemed a distant dream; so the team locked down on their side of the field, apparently trying to stop any further embarrassment of a larger loss.

Which made it all the more unfortunate when, at the 65 minute mark, Jorm Vahn came on to give Joren some rest. And the eager young laddie was eager to continue proving himself, having had some neat plays in the final minutes of already-won games but not much time to shine as the workhorse frontline rarely slowed down.

And that extremely clogged Buyan half? Not much doing when a young hotshot airmails a shot from damn near half field that soars well over the defenders, and is somehow miraculously on-target. It had no chance of going in with Marciak's heart still beating, but was still high enough that he decided to palm it over the bar than risk fumbling a maximum-extension catch.

And then Joren fed a excellent corner that Solara's horns plucked out of the air and into the ground, just past the goal line. Giving those two a corner is such an dangerous proposition if you don't have someone who can seriously contest Solara in the air, which is a tall ask.

[Natanians and Nosts]

-Now the World Cup Qualifiers,Natanians and Nosts defeated Suize by 3x0.
-The team controlled most part of the game,let's see the goals.
"The first goal was scored by Natan Nínnio Gonçalo with 25 minutes on the first period,he dribbled the goalkeeper after running 20 metres.Lucas Lucius Vit scored the second goal after receiving a pass from Rato Ret that had made a great collaboration with Laço Tralto that ran approximately 45 uninterrupted metres with the ball.Natan Nínnio Gonçalo scored our third goal after making a great dribble."
-Yes,that was a good game,the Tyrannosauri natanici will face Sameba at the next game.
-That game will be a crucial game,since it can determinate how far ou team can go this World Cup Qualifiers.
-After he break,scientists study (the) phenom...

[Farfadillis]

The Kamikaze
A site dedicated to Farf football

Youngsters Section

Xíxì Êns
submitted moments ago

Last week I talked about Oskar Holst and promised to talk about the other two youngsters Tíbürçìó has called up for this cycle. So here I am, writing about Xíxì now. I originally planned to write about Lüí first, but it would feel wrong to not talk about Oskar and Xíxì in quick succession, and soon you will understand why.

Xíxì, much like Oskar, was a bright spot in an otherwise dim Di Bradini squad. He didn't get to impress much, though, because he didn't get the ball, much like his teammate. They were both the wonderkids of the squad, starters at their current age, seventeen and eighteen. Why has he been called up, though?

Much like his partner in crime, Xíxì has vast experience for his age. He is not quite a starter for Dí Maozöxê yet, but he'll probably get there very soon. While Oskar is a key player for Ausharmuj Marusi, starting for Dí Maozöxê is about as difficult as that, since the gap in quality between those two teams is pretty huge. Nonetheless, Xíxì has been convincing his manager with consistently great performances. Five goals in twenty-two games, most of them as a sub, is nothing to scoff at.

Xíxì is the son of Fîsüj Êns and Fêlê Drâás. Born and raised in Ruland. He was one of the lucky few Rulandese who had no close relatives perish in the bombings. However, his father is currently a suspect for a terrorist attack in a police station in Ferdullaele, leaving twenty-five dead and several more wounded. He's not been seen for weeks. So, not it's still not been a bed of roses for Xíxì. He's played for Dí Maozöxê for as long as he can remember, he says, so he probably started playing for them aged five or six.

So, what makes him special, you ask? Unlike Oskar, he hasn't actually got it all. He's no deadly goal machine like his partner. He is, however, considerably more technical (not to take anything away form Oskar!). He is reminiscent of Alex Terán in what he can do with the ball at his feet. He's very good at playmaking, and adds to that a sharp striker's smell that, while not as good as his teammate's, is still fairly solid. He scores, though not quite as much as Oskar. However, he creates far more chances. In a way, they're very complementary; what one cannot excel at, the other can. If I had to choose one player he reminds me of, I'd have a hard time choosing. The thing with Xíxì is he blurs the line between offensive midfielder and striker a bit too much, so it's hard to think of a player like him. Alex Terán, as mentioned, was fairly similar, but less striker-ish. One could compare him to Friekder Dandalleion, but he hasn't got the same speed (though he is fast), height or lethality inside the box.

Now, where does he stand, as far as potential goes, among his Farf peers? If you read Oskar's blog entry, I'll save you a few lines: he's not very different. Not quite a Wínrôuge, Kâí or Dandalleion. Yet, possibly, quite like them. It's hard to predict whether Oskar or Xíxi will turn up the better player. At the moment, I'd lean ever-so-slightly towards Oskar, but I wouldn't bet on it. At any rate, though, Xíxì has certainly got massive potential.

As for where his future lies, he's mentioned he would consider a move abroad, specially considering Ruland's current state. Dí Maozöxê are intent on keeping him, though, so whoever wishes to acquire him will have to make a juicy offer. He's also mentioned he's "aiming for the sky," which probably means only a big team from a fairly good league would appeal to him. Take all of this with a grain of salt, though.

Just like Oskar Holst, Xíxì Êns is one of the most talented names in recent years. Expect him to lead the frontline alongside Oskar for many years in the future.

[Eura]

OOC: Continued from here.

Curiosity had got the better of Monty. Despite Kat's protests he set off from the rendezvous point towards the base that had descended into anarchy. Left on her own in the cold with no protection, she felt there was little choice but to join him. For all they knew the Euran's that they had got to know so well in the last few years we're all dead. Kat had her fingers discreetly crossed as they jogged through the heath towards the battle, the furious chatter of automatic weaponry getting louder and louder. Then a figure appeared from nowhere seemingly. Green launched into an embrace with Kat, holding her tight and handing her a folder, two cameras and a laptop. 'Listen to me Kat. This stuff, whatever happens to us, it has to get home. Do you understand? Lives depend on it. Get back to your rendezvous point. If we don't get there in twenty minutes, head south and don't stop for anything. Good luck.' Before she could say anything to him he was gone, sprinting back toward the gates of hell. Monty looked over the package with her. 'Bloody hell, this is serious intelligence stuff. What do we do with it?'
'What do you think? Get it home. And that means you.' Kat tried to protest but he wasn't having any of it. 'Listen, you've done more than enough. I'll stay around to guide these guys out. Someone needs to capture what happened here, don't they.'
'Stop fucking talking over me! You think because I'm a woman you and Green can just walk all over me?' Her frustration had boiled over. She was fed up of being spoken down to like a liability. Monty had lost the capacity to be shocked by anything anymore, but even so he froze up a bit. 'Alright, sorry. I'm just saying, this is beyond our jobs as journalists now. One of us needs to get out alive at least, so you've got to ask yourself who has the better chance, an old duffer me or you.' Monty gave her an affectionate, father like hug and then marched off towards the danger.

The larger fuel depot was now burning and exploding, but somehow the ammo dump had survived. Bray was going to make sure that would change before they left, having cleverly hidden a timed charge, setting it to fifteen minutes. After fighting his way back to Mack's position he took a moment to compose himself and check his ammo. Rowan almost shot him by accident as he sprinted into the small building they were firing from. Mack had been gunning down Sameban's left right and centre with his GPMG, emotionless as he squeezed the trigger and snuffed out enemy after enemy. Cameraman Rowan had accounted for a few of them too with his rifle, not quite believing that they hadn't yet attempted to flank the building. He broke the ice with the returning hero. 'Bray, where's Jones?'
'Had it.'
'Shit, no, the kid? Damn!' Mack was silent as a pause in the fighting emerged. The much needed moment of respite gave him the few seconds he could afford to mourn. Peace was blown away by the thud of an RPG into the room below from across the courtyard, shaking the walls around them and smashing the remaining glass. This stirred Mack from his moment and he took control once more. 'Ok, you got the charges in place Bray?'
'Ready to go, that fucker is going loud in I'd say eleven or so minutes from now!'
'That's how I like it. They seem to be regrouping, let's take this chance now to link up with the others back at the main building.' They gathered their assorted gear and prepared to move, slipping out through the rear door. A rumbling thunder made them stop for just a second. 'Armour. Shit, now what?' Now the building was torn apart by a direct combined hit from a 105mm cannon and an anti-tank missile. turning their world into a debris mist.

In the offices Lieutenant Brown had now finished broadcasting. Sameban's were at the door and ready to breach. Accepting his fate, Brown lit a cigarette and put the dead man's trigger under his foot, resting his combat shotgun on an overturned desk aimed toward the only door. The officer took a moment to consider where life had taken him, what he'd miss, and which people mattered to him the most. For all the hate that many of his men and women reserved for him, he had feelings too, hopes and dreams. Like so many Euran's these had been snatched away from him. But could Brown really complain? This was what he had spent his whole life training for, and he'd fulfilled his purpose with change to spare. It was appropriate to go out now with a bang. Light lit up the doorway as they burst through. His shotgun turned the first man into red mist, and if there was one thing Brown would do before going down, it was to be the toughest son of a bitch these Sameban's would ever fight, and the last. Brown was like a well oiled machine, tearing the thin wall to shreds with a rapid action before they returned fire, clipping his shoulder with a low calibre weapon. No matter, they only hit his weak arm. Brown discarded the shotgun and whipped out a pistol, popping more shots through the entrance. He must have taken down at least four or five of them and could have kept going were it not for the overwhelming shock of a rifle round passing through his left side leaving an exit wound bigger than a cricket ball. The leader of this relentless Euran raider group lay on the floor, knowing he was slain, watching as a Sameban officer towered over him while his men secured the room. He muttered something indistinguishable. 'This one is a Lieutenant, the one we shot. You. What are you saying?' Brown muttered again incomprehensibly. 'I can speak English, scum. What are you saying?' Brown smiled. 'Addeu.' It was Sameban for goodbye.

It was just a few metres more for Green to run towards Stein's tower position when he was thrown several feet in the air by a massive explosion. Brown had followed through on his promise, wiping out a large group of defenders and gutting much of the main building. Green took a few moments to recover his breath before finishing his journey to the tower, whistling up to the top. Unbelievably Stein was not even wounded, giving him a thumbs up from above, then continuing to shoot at a far off target. Green took that as permission to bypass her and find the others. He ducked and weaved between tents, buildings and containers to find a strangely clouded alleyway. The bayonet on his rifle glinted slightly as a bit of light from the raging oil fire cut through and reflected off it. That seemed to call out his position to whoever was a few feet in front of him. 'Identify, castle!'
'King?' Green couldn't quite remember the return phrase but he'd clearly got it right, because Mack wandered forward with his gun lowered. 'Where are the others?'
'Jones and George are dead, fuck knows what happened to Rowan but we got hit just now. They've got a tank and a BMP out. Bray get up here man.' Bray staggered towards them with a bad wound causing a visible bleed on his arm. 'He needs a medic, so take him and Stein and run. I'm going to find Rowan and catch you up. Time to exfil.' Green obeyed without question and encouraged Bray to follow, urging him to get a move on while they still could. Returning to the site of the tank attack was a mistake. Mack found Rowan straight away, but a lone Sameban managed to catch him with a well placed shot into the leg in the process. They couldn't get the guy back as he retreated more quickly than they could react.

Seething with a combination of fury and pain, Mack grimaced as he tried to suppress the burning sensation while Rowan fiddled around with a weapon on the floor. 'Rowan, I'm fucking hurt bad man. We need to get out of here now, job is done, didn't you hear the bang? I think Brown leveled the offices and radio tower.' Rowan was not convinced. 'We're not going anywhere if that tank has anything to say about it.'
'That's something we'll just have to live with, its a gamble but there's no alternative. Come on man, what are you doing!' Smugly smiling in Mack's direction, Rowan lifted up a light anti-tank weapon. 'Cover me and I'll show you an alternative.' The trademark tough guy scowl on Mack's face couldn't help but give way to a wry smile. 'Fine. I'll do my best, but you've only got one shot at this.' They moved immediately without the need to exchange another word. For a guy who hadn't been a soldier for a few years Rowan seemed to have an innate sense of military skill that had proved invaluable. What he didn't have was unblemished sense or unlimited luck. Mack managed to get into a good position on a corner where the armour had entered the courtyard to attack them only to realise the tank wasn't there. The BMP remained though. He could see Rowan waiting by a container just thirty feet away, hiding from half a dozen men gathered by the armoured vehicle. 'No time, go!' None of the men seemed to know where the shout came from until Mack let rip with a sustained burst of fire in their direction, burning two of them and wounding another. Distracted, they spun around and fired on Mack, hitting him again in one of his arms. The BMP's turret pivoted instantaneously and shot a high explosive round into the building behind him. Rowan watched on as the highest ranking Euran left vanished into a plume of smoke and an unknown fate.

Nevertheless the vehicle crews victory was short lived. The anti-tank rocket Rowan fired from his shoulder moments later penetrated its armour and set off a warhead inside the cabin. Everyone was killed instantly and burning flame shot out of the canopy confirming the kill. One of the Sameban soldiers was killed by shrapnel but the other two remained and spun around again in confusion, supported out of nowhere by three new arrivals. Rowan dropped the spent rocket launcher and reached for a rifle on the ground, firing off two shots into one of them, but the other had him for reaction time easily. Nephara had suffered its first media casualty of the war. He'd died in fitting style for his brief but impressive contribution to Eura's war effort. Watching this unfold was Stein in her tower. Her attention had been drawn away from covering the movement of Green and Bray by the BMP cooking off spectacularly following Rowan's well timed ambush. Noticing that she'd lost sight of them both, once the spectacle stopped dragging away the attention of her very fatigued mind, Stein scanned the area around the tower for sight of her comrades. Nothing came. It was clearly time to abort, so she abandoned the tower and her sniper rifle in exchange for a high powered light machine gun stored in the corner. At the bottom of the ladder there was no sign of anyone and the gunfire had stopped again. Were all of her team dead? She was relieved to see Green and Bray dismiss her fears by emerging from around a corner. 'Is Bray ok? He look's rough.'
'He'll be alright. I think everyone else is gone though.' She flinched, just for a moment. Green picked up on it straight away. 'I'm sorry, Mack said he had to go back. I couldn't stop him.' Stein said nothing and simply stared away from him in stony silence. 'We need to move anyway, so can you give Bray a hand? Hold on. Monty!' The old Syndicatian journalist had appeared out of nowhere. For some reason he had a handgun and was aiming it right at them. 'What the hell is this?' He pulled the trigger three times, catching them all by surprise.

Seconds passed before they all realised he hadn't shot any of them. Instead he'd just killed a Sameban that had followed Green and Bray undetected. The nervy conscript was about to kill them all, but had taken a few moments to fiddle with the automatic switch on his rifle. In those vital fractions of time Monty had spotted the danger and made good use of the weapon he'd picked up from their stockpile at the rendezvous point. 'That felt strange.'
'Never killed anyone before? Welcome to the party pal.' Despite it all Bray had somehow kept his sense of humour. The group hurriedly made their exit. Due to the explosion of the headquarters building and it subsequently being surrounded by enemy forces, they were forced to run across open ground toward one of the main gates which had been miraculously deserted by soldiers diverted to combat the assault. None of them could believe it. Survival wasn't just within reach, it was on a plate. All four of them raced out of the base into the heath to try and escape but what came next sank their brief moment of boundless hope and optimism. Searchlights honed in on them as they tried desperately to get away. Only fifty metres or so from the perimeter fence and stranded in the open, they threw themselves to the floor. Three tanks appeared in line, all of them being last generation but still perfectly capable BT-7 main battle tanks. It now dawned on the surviving Euran's that for all the destruction they had wrought on this Sameban base, and in such disproportionate scale to their own losses, it appeared to have survived the assault. The larger fuel dump fire had subsided thanks to an apparent firebreak strategy they hadn't spotted. Although they must have killed around a hundred Sameban soldiers, several hundred more were now simply waiting for them to pop up in the grass to be finished off from range. Flares illuminated the night sky. It was over.

Over the course of several years Monty had come to know these people intimately and he was ultimately ready to die with them. He at least knew that there was a chance that Kat would make it away alive. His story and the story of First Section would get told even if none of them were to be around to tell it. Green might have been barely a man, but he had shown more courage and heart than could be expected of any mere mortal. For that alone, Monty decided to use what seemed to be their last moment to tell him. 'You know your old Sergeant? He'd be proud of you lad. Dead or alive.' Even on death's door one would have thought Green would look miserable, but somehow he looked quite relaxed. 'Brown was too.' Bray and Stein joined hands just for a moment as they lay there in the long grass. Shouting in Sameban occupied the air. Warning shots whistled by. 'Euran assailants, surrender now! Come out from over there! Hands up and ahead of you, and you won't be hurt!' None of them moved, for a Sameban military offer of clemency and safe surrender was about as trustworthy as a thief on a street of unlocked houses. These demands for surrender were cut short from out of the blue by the chatter of a machine gun. Green popped his head up for just a moment to see what was going on. 'What the hell? Holy shit, Mack's alive. Quick, covering fire!' All four of them got on their haunches and opened up with their remaining primary weapons. Simultaneously they watched in awe as Mack emerged from one of the drainage ditches out of the front of the base with his machine gun, firing almost from the hip. His helmet rattled around from the force of spewing lead, and his blood soaked arms glistened in crimson like some sort of devil come to haunt his enemies from the grave.

Poorly disciplined conscripts panicked and fell back behind the cover of the tanks, giving Green and the others a chance to make another run for it, which they took. Greeting the remnants of First Section falling back was Kat. She had watched the final engagement hopelessly from a distance and now couldn't take her eyes away from the events unfolding in front of her. The others were urging her to get moving but she couldn't, for she was transfixed by Mack's last stand so much that she was ambivalent to being stood in the open well within rifle range, having failed to leave as Monty ordered. The infantryman kept going until he was shot twice. Seemingly he was down for good but then he was on his feet again, firing more, staggering back into the heath and attempting to turn and run when another shot struck him, this time in the chest. 'Kat, come on. We're going to die if you don't move.' An explosion threw up earth in front of them and forced Stein to the floor. 'The tank's have range, Kat, move it or we're all dead, do you hear me?' The leading vehicle advanced forward from the base and adjusted its aim, leveling its crosshairs on the group who were still visible enough to hit. Mack rose again like some sort of religious figure. Kat couldn't believe her eyes. After all the horrors and dramas she had witnessed, she was witnessing one more to trump them all. He'd been shot six times. Blown up twice. Starved and thirsty. Yet this young Euran man stood tall in the face of fascism. It was exactly what she'd been searching for, the positive metaphor to make reading about this place tolerable for those who wished to learn of it. Resistance against all the odds. Above all else, this was what hope felt like.

Raw, innate desire for survival was what drove the others which is why they were so perplexed and angered that Kat wasn't moving with them. She had to see this no matter what. Mack stood in front of the tank with his legs wobbling. There were only seconds left to live for, and it was potentially pointless to do so, but he did it anyway. Monty grabbed Kat's arm and pulled her away. 'Kat, move, please!' She could hear something. Laughter followed, which seemed perverse in the circumstances. 'Deliverance, Monty. That's what that sound is. Defiance is rewarded with deliverance.' He had no idea what she meant. None of them did, not right away. Creeping up behind them was a roaring crescendo that got louder and louder. It peaked with the arrival of four Euran ground attack jets screaming past them to their left. They all watched in shock as the jets, GR-12 Prowlers to be precise, let loose a string of 500lb bombs and napalm canisters onto the shocked Sameban garrison. Mack vanished along with the tanks and much of the base in a wall of flame and flying earth. The airstrike was followed by an almighty boom. The ammo dump had exploded in glorious fashion, though Bray realised that the wait for this to happen meant he must have set his timed explosive incorrectly, because it should have gone off five minutes before. Momentarily their imminent jubilation was stalled by the lead tank emerging from the flame, trundling forward and clearly still operational. Thankfully one of the Prowler's came back and gutted it with 30mm cannon fire. Surprise transformed into jubilation as they celebrated their last minute salvation at the hands of the Euran Air Force, whom they had maligned so much for supposedly abandoning them earlier in the war. Green was the only one of the group who was calm. He knew who to thank really. In spite of their differences Green couldn't deny one thing. Brown had given them all the chance to live to fight another day.

[Oontaz Dert Li Ng]

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WORLD CUP 78 QUALIFIERS: ACAPAIS VS OONTAZ
By Abdulmecid Macasaysayan


Oontaz's Uziel Gal Tza'eer celebrates after scoring his goal against Acapais. (Courtesy of Crescent News Network Sports Channel/Oliver Hassanal)

ACAPAIS - Uziel Gal Tza'eer's impressive scorpion kick goal ended up being the decisive goal that secured the Sultanate of Oontaz's first away win in the World Cup 78 qualifiers.

Chances were few and far between in the first half, but George McCulloch's long ball to release David Harper into the box was the home side's best chance to open the scoring and get the lead, but Karim Ansarifarid was quick to react to the danger and smothered out Harper's attempt at goal.

Camille Fox also fizzed a shot into the top left corner but struck the upright while Godzilla also had a headed attempt at goal saved by the opposition's keeper.

In the second half, right after kick-off, Godzilla ran with the ball down the wing with Uziel Gal Tza'eer running through the center. Because Godzilla's cross was flying ahead of him, Tza'eer had to readjust his body so he whipped out his left leg behind him to strike at the ball, and the end result was arguably one of the best goals in the qualifying tournament and definitely one of the best goals ever scored by the Lions of Sand and Sea.

Zulfiqli bin Alisher also had an opportunity to double the lead when he headed in Karimabdul Dimaintindihan's free kick but the linesman waved it off for offside.

Oontaz manager Ador Macaspac: "Another win is good. Another win is good. An away win is good. It means we can pick up points away from home. But we could have won by more. Zulfiqli [bin Alisher] was not offside. The goal should have counted. It's like the thing with Timothy San Marcelino all over again. It's a bit disappointing but when you won the disappointment for a wrongly-offside goal doesn't last long."

ACAPAIS 0 - 1 OONTAZ
              TZA'EER (46')

OONTAZ DERT LI NG
GK: 1 Ansarifarid
RB: 25 Opulencia
RCB: 3 Macaraig
LCB: 49 Campanilla
LB: 15 Portencio
DM: 5 San Marcelino
CM: 7 Abu Nayef (Kalimantan - 74')
RW: 7 Godzilla (Zulfikar - 62')
CAM: 20 Dimaintindihan
LW: 77 Zulfiqli
ST: 12 Tza'eer (Estevez - 80' █)

ACAPAIS
GK: 1 O'Hara
RB: 2 Santana
RCB: 4 Hale (Baird - 60')
LCB: 3 Canales
LB: 5 Lucio
RM: 7 McCulloch
RCM: 6 Burns
LCM: 8 Long █ (Ortiz - 81')
LM: 11 Griffiths █ (Rees - 72')
RS: 9 Harper
LS: 10 Fox

MATCH STATISTICS
Possession
Acapais: 51%
Oontaz: 49%
Shots
Acapais: 7 (3 on target)
Oontaz: 10 (4 on target)
Corners
Acapais: 3
Oontaz: 3
Fouls
Acapais: 15
Oontaz: 19

[Soltsteed]

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far-right leader demands inquiry into the veracity of a satirical match report
national alliance leader orestos christophe demands a parliamentary investigation of a football article by the beet

KINGSMINSTER, St Christopher — In an embarrassing misstep for Soltsteedish nationalists, National Alliance leader Orestos Christophe has demanded the Senate investigate a satirical match report published by The Beet.

Standing up in the floor of the national legislature, the far-right leader claimed that the satire news outlet had uncovered “evidence of systemic cheating by the Royal Soltsteedish Football Federation”, pointing to a goal claimed to have been scored by Lily Webb via teleportation spell as the “golden example of a corrupt and ruthless organisation.”

“The willingness of the RSFB to stoop to witchcraft is disgusting,” Christophe said in his statement to the legislature. “Let’s uncover the truth of this shameful match and petition the World Cup Committee to disqualify the disgraceful band of criminals that is the Royal Soltsteedish Football Federation.”

The fictitious match report claimed that Soltsteed’s first goal had been scored in the fifth minute after the ball bounced off the head of substitute goalkeeper Julian Lyksdal, with other goals being scored from seventy metres out, an incorrectly-awarded penalty, a pinball-like volley and bouncing off the head of a stationary Emma Gryndhout, the striker who had scored a hat trick in the real match.

In reality, Gryndhout, Soltsteed’s primary striker, had scored a hat trick in the first half before being substituted for the second. The remaining goals were scored by Cobus Brygge, Carle de Marcht and Lily Webb—though not in the manner claimed by The Beet—while the lone goal conceded was a 69th minute own goal by Webb.

“Why the honourable gentleman is wasting this house’s time with this frivolous matter is beyond me,” Prime Minister Jan-Mikäel Johanssen told the Senate in response to the National Alliance leader’s request. “I would hope the honourable gentleman knows why his request is frivolous, but it honestly would not surprise me if it wasn’t.”

“I would’ve thought the eleven struck-out misspellings of ‘Soltsteed’ would’ve been a clue that this was satire,” Opposition Leader Claudie Michälssen told senators, “but it has now become clear that our political discourse has stooped to such a low level that we’re mistaking satire for actual journalism.”

The request for a parliamentary investigation was defeated overwhelmingly in a 391–24 vote.

“We cannot be held responsible if anyone actually mistakes our content for actual news,” The Beet chief editor Alex Schumacher told press in an interview. “We’re actually flattered that Mr Christophe thought our match report was real. It was quite comedic in a way I don’t think we could accomplish. I just can’t wait to see what his reaction will be after the Stallions lose to Eura.” •

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In other news:
Football: Renovations begin on Köning Wilheum VII Nationaalpark, Meerpark to host Soltsteedish home matches
#SoltPoli: PM Johanssen: We will find ‘common ground’ on gun control laws
Business: Retail chain Markethouse declared bankrupt by County Mecklenburg magistrates
Offbeat: F*ck the yellow water, I have accepted the depths of my life

[New Gazi]

New Gazi (82) faced Kaboomlandia (57) on Matchday 7. The Gazilians were looking to sneak a win past a higher ranked team. Kaboomlandia was looking to win and stay in the fight for second place in the Group. The final result would fall somewhere in between for both teams.

The battle for possession was a tough one. New Gazi held the ball for less time, but that wasn't the full story. Early in the game, Kaboomlandia was dominating possession. By the end of the match, New Gazi brought the split just under even.

This took a major defensive effort. Anita Jarlsdottir missed her second game due to an injury. This meant the defensive-biased Ayotunde Ibori got another start. "I'm glad it worked out this way for the rotation", said Ibori.

"Shifting the offense to one side and increasing the defense let us score three goals against the wall known as Schottia", Ibori continued. "It also held back a strong Kaboomlandia. Anita has her skills. We all have our role." He spoke after the game along with Jarlsdottir.

"I'm just looking forward to getting back out there. I'm at about 85%", she said. "I should be back next match, but we'll see."

Jarlsdottir is officially listed as probable for Matchday 8.

Deter J. Piff, host of Vangaziland's show, 'Last Minute' called Ibori's outlook "rosy at best."

"Yeah, New Gazi scored three goals against Schottia. They tied Kaboomlandia. But they need to win these games if they really want to advance."

Co-host Chip Maydress was more empathetic. "They did their best", he said with arms out and hands upwards in disagreement. "Even Super-Llamaland didn't score against Schottia on Matchday 7."

"I'm just saying", Piff rebutted. "I don't think Ibori did that much, that's all. He didn't have anything to do with those three goals."

"But he did help against Kaboomlandia", was the reply from Maydress. "And he did have touches around some of those goals. He's capable of playing offense."

"Jarlsdottir might have scored more though. It's not like she can't defend." Piff would not get off of his stance, as usual. "I say, play Anita during the second leg. Keep to your starters."

"Don't rule out the tactical sub."

"Exactly", responded Piff. "Sub him, don't start him."

"You are incorrigible, Mr. Piff."

Also making his second appearance was Fritjof Vang, the Prince of Vangaziland. He flew in to watch the match against Schottia and spent his time travelling until the next match. He flew out on his private jet after the Kaboomlandia match, but not before giving an interview.

"It was a great trip. A little more than half of my heritage is from their part of Africa", said Prince Fritz. "The Cannoneers have come a long way. I've been following along since their first entry, three years ago. They haven't made a quick run, but they've been consistently climbing the ladder."

When asked how he enjoyed the game, Fritz said, "The atmosphere was great. It makes me wish Vangaziland sent in a team."

[Cosumar]

It's (matchday) eight, it's late, it's time for bed!

Will your team have those ancient NS Sport dreams of World Cup glory?

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Matchday 8 RP Cutoff
Scores

[Flardania]

Opening Theme

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Bonjour et Ohayōgozaimasu Kirishima. Welcome ladies and gentleman back once more to another World Cup 78 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 seven of World Cup qualifiers having been completed,135 teams continue their battle for 30 spots with 11 matchdays to go. 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 more!

Kirishima 1–0 Taeshan Review:

Follwing Kirishima's win against Heif on the road, the Kitsunes headed home to Akihabara located in Minazuki Prefecture on the island of Zipangu. Akihabara is also home of the Akihabara Eletronics OFC which is the home club of Joseph Yabuta, Ayame Fujisaka, Claire Nguyen and Ai Takagawa. All of which started the game. Takagawa was in for Hojo as Seong likes to save Takagawa for more defensive teams. Other changes included Miguel Tamayo starting the game over Eizan Iwamoto at right back. Taeshan was coming off a 5-0 against Susuland and sat four in the group with 10 points a win would tie them with Kirishima in presumably second. On the other side the Kitsunes came into this game with a 2-1 win against Heif and a win here would keep them in first with their bye already completed while Eura who is close behind in second has yet to have a bye. The other major storyline at play in this game is Kirishima's historic weakness against really defensive minded teams and thois match would be a good test if the style or talent was the issue in the past.

Attacking football has been working for the Kitsunes as off late so the Kitsunes tried to overwhelm the opposition early which allowed the experienced opponets to counter attack in both the 9" and 13' minutes with the former being saved by Ai Takagawa and the latter being off-target. The Kitsunes behind Joseph Yabuta made an attempt at goal in the 16' but it was saved by the defense. Taeshan would try their hand at goal in the 19' minute but it was saved by Takagawa. In the 31' 34' and 45' minute came to a barrage of shot attempts by the Kitsunes which were all saved by the goalkeeper. On the Kitsune side of things, the defense was able to withstand all three resulting counter attacks. Both teams entered the half with the game tied 0-0 with the shot attempts reading 4-3 in favor of Kirishima just as it was in the previous game which you can consider a good omen.

In the second half the Kitsunes fans seemed anxious as they still would have to wait to see how the new play style handles the Kitsunes weakness. However, the second half was all Taeshan as the Kitunes would lose possesions which at times lead to nearly deadly counter attacks in the 50', 61', 62', and 79' minutes all without the Kitsunes getting a shot attempt. The Kitsunes would wake up a bit in the 81' and 83' minute with off-target shots but then in the 86' minute the Kitsunes were awarded a corner. Mizoguchi delivered a kick which met the head of Yabuta who guided it in to the roar of his home club fans in his homefield. Four minutes was not enough time for a Taeshani comeback and the Kitsunes escaped with another W. Final score Kirishima 1, Taeshan 0.

Seong Mi-Soo, had this to say. "A win is a win and I will take it especially against a defensive team like Taeshan. We need to keep working on our offense as it's been a long while since we played this way. In fact, the last time we did this I still was a player on the pitch lol. Anyway, we need to be more wary of counter attacks but it seems that we are on the right track and that sometimes you need to take advantage of the opposition lack of firepower. We will like to finish the first half strong so we will be preparing extensively for our final two matches of the first half."

Kirishima 1-0 Taeshan 
J. Yabuta (86')

Frejo v Kirishima Match Preview

Kirishima will travel to rank 234th team Frejo for their next match. While it seems clear cut on paper they are the reason Eura has two losses instead of one. If they can beat a team like Eura with that squad then they certainly are dangerous and even if they aren't, it would serve Kirishinan interests to treat them that way anyway. Kirishima is on course to have a spectacular first half of Qualification and but should take this games seriously. The Kitsunes can't avoid to get careless just because the coast looks clear. Until next time, Lets Go Kitsunes!

Post by: Keita Woo

[Kel Assuk]

The Road to the World Cup
Chapter 4: Kel Assuk Pulls Off a Miracle

For not being in that great of a mood following the team's dismissal at Löptsegl, the 1-1 draw against Abanhfleft was actually a big improvement, especially considering the team had considered that getting a single point against the group's second seed would be a miracle. Well, the team went out there and pulled off a miracle. The miracle occurred in the defense, more specifically - after conceding six goals to the number 258-ranked team, they only conceded one to the number twenty-five, which, to be completely honest, was probably about as galling to the Fleftic team as Kel Assuk's loss to Löptsegl was to them. It put the group's second seeds in third place for the group - out of pole position to qualify and now behind the group's third seeds, Tumbra, who are now two points ahead of Abanhfleft. Take that! say the Kel Assuk fans. Woe are us! whine the Fleftic fans.

Perhaps the draw was due to some changes Eric made to the lineup. Instead of the traditional 4-1-2-1-2, which Kel Assuk had always used, Eric had to change to a 3-2-2-1-2 to accomodate Ziri Neqrouz's red card, putting in 26-year-old Anaruz Taher to partner up with his fellow Anaruz M'Hidi. That seemed to limit Kel Assuk's defensive errors and mistakes; Eric wanted to follow up with Ziri to make sure that it wasn't his mistakes in particular that were causing Kel Assuk's defensive bucket to leak, so to speak. In fact, Eric made plans to follow up with his entire defensive squadron over the mid-qualifying break in order to reduce those defensive leaks which have been plaguing the Kel Assuk team, even in matches with lower-ranked or unranked teams (cough cough Löptsegl anyone?). Or maybe it was the fact that the youngest player on Abanhfleft's squad was a sprightly twenty-eight; the average age of the squad was well over thirty, not really a good sign for any team. The older players, not in the peak of their careers any more, seemed to really be struggling in the hot and dry Kel Assuk weather that Eric hated so much. The Fleftic players seemed to hate that weather, too.

Despite the good result, though, Löptsegl still reverberated within the teams' heads. They could not get out of their heads the idea that a team such as Löptsegl could browbeat them into submission so easily. Löptsegl did not look all that great; if anything, Kel Assuk lost that match. That was the most accurate description of what had happened in the country. The loss basically tanked Kel Assuk in the goal differential standings - they had dug themselves a whole of three goals, and would have to work hard to get out of that hole. Their average winning margin was somewhere between one and two goals - it would take a while to climb out of the hole they had so mercilessly dug for themselves. What was so galling to Kel Assuk, though, was the fact that Löptsegl was ahead of them in the team standings, without as much effort as them and from a much worse spot in the rankings. Eric was still frustrated with that game against Löptsegl; it signified everything that was wrong with Kel Assuk's national team. In retrospect, though, a win over Löptsegl wouldn't have exposed the team's defensive weaknesses, and the team would be complacent against Abanhfleft and probably would be complacent against HUElavia.

Speaking of HUElavia, Eric thought the team could get at least a draw out of them. They weren't looking too hot; after all, they had just drawn 1-1 with Bongo Johnson, the worst team in the group. In fact, the match against HUElavia was Bongo Johnson's first point of the competition in eight weeks with of matches. Plus, the country's level of excitement with football showed because the team management never bothered to send out a list of their players to the world. There wasn't even a Wikipedia entry onthe HUElavian national team - usually someone, somewhere, would care enough to at least make a simple Wikipedia page with at least 23 names on it. No, not in HUElavia! Their lack of care about football showed. Plus, the side had been quite mediocre on the offense; they had only scored the sum total of 9 goals over 8 matches. Not exactly a stellar sum, but at least it was better than Bongo Johnson's sum total of one goal. Anyone want to guess which team they scored that one goal against? You guessed it, HUElavia! With all of these facts and statistics going around, Eric was quite hopeful that his team could prevail. Even though HUElavia was ranked seventy seventh in the world, that really didn't mean much to Eric - that sum of KPB points was only about five ahead of Kel Assuk's sum. In fact, considering the team's poor play so far, Eric would be quite disappointed if they didn't take a win against HUElavia. The only problem was that Kel Assuk was playing away... which made it tricky. Nonetheless, if the team could pull off a miracle against Abanhfleft, they could at least pull off a minor upset at HUElavia.

[Nephara]

Nephara 1-1 Starblaydia
(4-4-2) 1 - Fletcher; 2 - Rafford, 5 - Konoval, 6 - Scharner, 19 - Surman; 7 - Szalai (Bereveskos 75'), 4 - Rainsford (c), 8 - Tarashaj (14 - Gosforth 60'), 11 - Naeher (16 - Strongbow 68'); 17 - Stavanger, 21 - Amokachi
Goal: Stavanger 47'

'Going with what worked' hadn't worked.
Fegelein cursed the over-expectant media a thousand times over as the final whistle blew. All this rhetoric in the past about just playing the Nepharim away, seeing reactive football as some kind of cowardice - it was insane! That had been Reinhard Shale's rhetoric, and it had gotten him fired when he hadn't, weirdly enough, been able to conjure trophies out of nowhere.
The fans were easier than the media. They understood, or would be made to understand. Sure, recent poor results had been divisive, but they hadn't let that stop them from relentlessly driving the team on during a... a frustrating match. Enthralling for a neutral, and, honestly, Starblaydia were well above a third seed level, but after the Tveidalen Incident... a home draw really, really was not good enough. The maths still bore out, just as long as Nephara did what they ought to do in the reverse fixtures, but...
The fans hadn't given Fegelein, the manager who had won Nephara's first Champions' Cup, the moniker of 'the Tinker'. In the cheaper rags, that had somehow morphed into 'Tinkerbell', because fuck all tabloids.
Fegelein had been whisked into the job off the back of media demand, because it had liked the fact that she won a lot of things, and maybe it figured that because she won a lot of things with a roughly Nepharim brand of football, a 4-4-2 formation and a clearly defined best XI that that would be how she would work things out with the national team. But running a national team just wasn't the same as running a club, and you'd think that'd be obvious to some of these experts. She couldn't buy new players, and she had, to an extent, too many players in certain places. How could you drop Gosforth out of the starting XI? But he was at his best allowed to rampage from midfield, and didn't offer defensive cover in the same way that Tarashaj did, but he'd not been in the best form, and Rafford wouldn't calm her shit down for all her prodigious talent, Naeher, bless her, wasn't the best player in the world and Strongbow was too raw and needed further hardening and Lohengrin had picked a really great time to get injured against fucking Makongo...
The flanks, in other words, were the Problem Areas.
So maybe have less than two strikers! But that meant dropping Stavanger and Amokachi, who complemented one another wonderfully...
... but when Amokachi first broke out with Brinemouth, it was on the wing. And there, to Fegelein's mind, were possibilities.
You reluctantly dropped Naeher. You shunted Szalai into a lopsided front three - Szalai did his free thing down the right while Amokachi went for goal and Stavanger was there for both to play off. Tarashaj had less attacking burden and could compensate for Rainsford's nonexistent speed while Gosforth rampaged. That'd leave the fullbacks exposed... Rafford didn't have the discipline, but Mirko Koehler who, she noted with pride, she'd more or less made the career of, did. The defence pressed higher (Konoval and Scharner both had the pace for it) and either Fletcher learned to deal with it or he lost his spot to Tsattalios.
It worked out so, so well on paper. And what had worked before had been last spotted not taking Nephara past Starblaydia and Mercedini. Her second-string might not be able to pull it off - the implosion against Tveidalen (thanks Rafford!) had prevented anyone from finding out. But this was about what the best and brightest were capable of, and where they were best deployed, and conveniently the lads back at the NFA had arranged a friendly away at Cosumar... second-string gave it another shot against Yuezhou, and then the best, hopefully, flexed Nepharim muscles against a genuine world power. Win that, and even the press would have to be (heh) impressed.
Lose it, and... well...
Fuck it. Sink or swim always was her style.
"Throughout the remainder of qualifying," she told the press that night, "Nephara will be playing four three fucking three."
And the internet set itself ablaze.

NEPHARIM NATIONAL TEAM SELECTION - FORTNIGHT 5
Goalkeepers: 1 - Gideon Fletcher (AFC Treason), 12 - Justinian Hargrave (Starling), 20 - Apostolos Tsattalios (Phalanx AF, CEN)
Defenders: 2 - Mirko Koehler (Starling), 3 - Isidra Jeurissen (Coret Hawks), 5 - Dieter Konoval (KT Moreazerua, AUD), 6 - Malachite Scharner (Jungle Strike, VIL), 18 - Diedrich Frostmarris (Molsbik Arkjet, SEM), 19 - Lux Vicelich (Sabrefell Moths), 22 - Danijel Brymora (Brinemouth)
Midfielders: 4 - Tanith Rainsford (Mâ Âlâmëómë, FFD, c), 8 - Vedran Tarashaj (AFC Treason), 10 - Jade Irwin (Cornellians, SCT), 11 - Ursula Rowan (Cassandra City, COS), 14 - Konrad Gosforth (Mâ Âlâmëómë, FFD), 23 - Gudrun Crowley (Pelethas United, COS)
Forwards: 7 - Adnan Szalai (Ulsa, EUR), 9 - Estrella Hawke (Starling), 13 - Andrea Bereveskos (Sabrefell Athletic), 15 - Erik Marlowe (Florence Boldbluc, BSE), 16 - Elsa Kaelin (Starling), 17 - Dragan Stavanger (Tannenberg FC, VLD), 21 - Penumbra Amokachi (Eastweald, COS)

SCHEDULE
Bye
Nephara 1-1 Darmen @ Phoenix Rise (Corvistone)
St. Saratoga 0-4 Nephara
Nephara 2-3 Tveidalen @ The Iron Hill (Vermillion)
Mercedini 0-0 Nephara
Nephara 4-0 Sargossa @ The Gauntlet (Treason)
Makongo 0-1 Nephara
Nephara 1-1 Starblaydia @ Farham Arena (Sabrefell)
Yuezhou vs. Nephara
Friendly: Cosumar vs. Nephara
Darmen vs. Nephara
Nephara vs. St. Saratoga @ Godswatch (Crisisbless)
Tveidalen vs. Nephara
Nephara vs. Mercedini @ Farham Arena (Sabrefell)
Sargossa vs. Nephara
Nephara vs. Makongo @ Portsgate (Brinemouth)
Starblaydia vs. Nephara
Nephara vs. Yuezhou @ Phoenix Rise (Corvistone)

[Gregoryisgodistan]

OOC: As previously established, the incident described here never happened. However, it would be hard to deny it without sounding like a crazy conspiracy theorist.

Lord Almighty Gregory's Speech to the People

A female voice plays out of telescreens everywhere. "ATTENTION PLEASE! ATTENTION PLEASE FOR A MAJOR ANNOUNCEMENT FROM LORD ALMIGHTY GREGORY!"

Following that announcement, Lord Almighty Gregory's face appears on the telescreens. People bow to him and then he begins to speak.

"Good morning, ladies, gentlemen, and slaves. I speak to you today with tragic, yet significant news. Guayabalense government agents hijacked Greglord Air Flight 356 from Lord Almighty Gregory National Airport in Capital District to the airport in Republica, Free Republics, and flew it to our overseas slave islands. These terrorist government agents then trapped everybody on board, and threatened to blow up the plane if we did not send them all the slaves on the slave islands, both Gregoryisgodistani and foreign, to be executed. There were both Gregoryisgodistanis and Republicans on that flight, so obviously both myself and Consul Nicholls were deeply concerned for their welfare. Just when it seemed it couldn't get any worse, the Guayabalense military launched a naval invasion of the slave islands, threatening to burn them to the ground and kill everyone there, slave and master, if their demands were not met. This was proving to be quite challenging.

"Thankfully, the Free Republics graciously agreed to provide military assistance, and we killed every single one of those Guaya Bean scumbags. Additionally, we offered the slaves the opportunity to fight the Guaya Beans for their freedom, and be liberated if they succeeded. Many of them, especially the foreigners from Taxachusetts, agreed to take up arms with us in exchange for their potential liberation. They joined us in killing the Guaya scum. If you watch the video on your telescreens, you will now be amazed by the footage of our army, the Republican army, and the slave army, all joining together to nobly fight the terrorist government from San Jose Guayabal and kill all of those heathen scumbags."

Video does indeed play on the telescreens, but it is of a team of Republican actors filming a staged battle to make everyone think it is real. It never happened.
'
"Thank you again to the brave men and women, ours, the Republicans, and the slaves, who fought so hard for their freedom. Those slaves who were originally sent here from Taxachusetts are now on their way back to the Free Republics, of which Taxachusetts is now a part, and should arrive at some point soon. The slaves who were Gregoryisgodistani have been liberated and are on their way back to mainland Gregoryisgodistan. We thank them again for their service, and are glad this national nightmare is over. Meanwhile, the Greglord Air Flight is now on its way to Republica again, and should safely land there shortly. Nobody aboard the flight has been injured, thankfully.

"But now, it is time to talk about how to best deal with the Guaya Menace. We must stop them by any means possible from pulling a ridiculous stunt like that again. Therefore, we must make several arrangements.

"First, I am relocating 5,000 of our nuclear weapons to approximately 1,000 secure underground bunkers within five miles of the Guayabalense border. These nuclear weapons can launch at a moment's notice, and will launch if necessary to stop or deter a Guayabalense invasion. Make no mistake, Queen Margaret, if you invade our country, we will immediately launch all 1,000 of those nuclear weapons, and will launch even more if you retaliate. Furthermore, we have a significant number of long-range nuclear weapons in secret locations on the slave islands, which I suspect is what the Guaya Beans were really after in the first place. About half of the nuclear weapons of ours are stashed there, meaning even if you overrun our country and destroy our nuclear bunkers, which you won't because we will launch them before you can seize them, and bombing won't work because they're underground and we'll launch at the first sign of attack, we can still launch about half our nukes at you, and that's still about 15,000. And you won't get the other 15,000 either, it's categorically impossible, we'd launch them before losing them. And we have our ways.

"But that is not enough. We are also going to build a 100 foot tall, electric fence carrying a shock of over 5,000 volts of electricity, along the entire border with San Jose Guayabal, and we are going to make the Guaya Beans pay for it! In the unlikely event the Guaya Beans do get over the wall, we will set up land mines all across a strip within 500 yards of the Guayabalense border, making it impossible for them to escape past the wall without getting blown to bits. This will be known as the Zone of Death, to stop Guaya Beans from invading or traitors from escaping. No Guaya Bean will get past the Zone of Death. And don't think this will stop us from invading you anytime we feel like it, because we have ways of getting through that we're not going to tell you about. Not to mention human blitzkrieg. And best of all, we are going to make San Jose Guayabal pay for all this! Don't ask how, we're just going to do it! Construction starts as soon as humanly possible, our team of military engineers is already underway! And we will complete it so quickly, people are going to be asking how we did it so quickly. And we'll tell them that we did it so quickly because we're winning. And then, we're going to make San Jose Guayabal pay for all this! Pay dearly! With money, or with their lives! We will do this to protect ourselves from the wicked Guayabalense Menace! It is necessary, it is critical, and it is the Will of the Lord that we protect ourselves from the menace to our west! We will never allow San Jose Guayabal to attack this Most Glorious and Holy Nation ever again! Death to San Jose Guayabal! Death to Queen Margaret! Me Bless Gregoryisgodistan, and Me Bless the Free Republics for their invaluable assistance in stopping the Guaya Menace!

"Now, let's celebrate the start of the wall and Zone of Death building! Surrender, Guayas! Good bye for now!"

[Spaam]

"Ralora crosses into the goal square... SyLy is there and... GOAL! That's two goals now for the Orange and Black, and barring another score, they'll be going into the break with that two goal lead. The fans are really not happy, with the boos becoming deafening out here, but it looks like Spaam will be getting the win record here today..."

Dr. Quexipha Fenfir turned off the radio as her head of research, Dr. Hilnas Shaalar, walked into the room. She was seated in her office at the top of the building that housed the Spaamanian Football Association, arguably the most powerful organisation in the kingdom outside of the police, military and royal family.

"Have you been following the match, Hilnas?" asked Fenfir.

"We were ahead by a goal," replied Shaalar, "thanks to Sehelin, when I left the lab."

"It's now two, thanks to our newest subject," Fenfir said, correcting her employee. "We may be able to expand our project with this continued success. Six straight wins, seven after today."

Shaalar nodded. "It has certainly been gratifying to be proven right."

"Imagine if our whole team was made up of the best players in history," mused Fenfir. "Starblaydian defenders, Holy Empire midfielders, Vilitan goal keepers. We would be unbeatable!"

Shaalar looked thoughfully at his boss, then spoke carefully. "There may be two issues with this plan, Dr. Fenfir."

Fenfir narrowed her eyes at the balding man. "Oh? And what issues may they be?"

Shaalar took a breath before speaking. "One, there is the matter of the players we already have. While there is no doubt that the fans are celebrating the success we have been having, they are fanatical in their support because the players come from their home towns: Vilsalu, Kurelim, Highbay... You can't ignore that the people have been a major factor in our ability to perform better than expected."

"And yet," replied Fenfir, "the people would surely learn to get behind our new players once we have won the World Cup. That is just a matter of time."

"You may well be correct," Shaalar granted, "but there is issue number two."

"Which is?" asked Fenfir.

"They don't speak," answered Shaalar. "Communicate. Anything. They do exactly what we tell them, perfectly. They look, move, everything exactly the same as they did two, three hundred years ago. But there is something wrong with them. We've run tests, scans, the whole gamut. And we can't find anything wrong with them. Yet, for some reason, there is. It's almost as if..." He paused as he struggled with what to say next.

"Spit it out, Hilnas," demanded Fenfir.

Shaalar took a breath and replied. "It's almost as if they have no soul."

"No soul?" Fenfir scoffed at the idea. "You are a scientist. How could you talk about a soul?"

"Because as a scientist I haven't been able to come up with any other alternative theory," retorted the man. "Everything should be working, but it isn't."

"Then you just need to work harder!" chastised Fenfir. "Keep studying our subject until you find out the answer. That is your job, so do it!"

Shaalar looked mollified. "Yes, of course, Dr. Fenfir."

Fenfir calmed herself down before continuing. "Now, give me some good news. Subject AB."

"I'm afraid that he won't be ready until next year, but he is on track to play against Ko-oren, which is the game after the Furby Islands." Shaalar looked at his notes. "From everything we've seen, he seems to be the best yet. He would seem to be better than we ever realised when he first played."

"Excellent." Fenfir looked pleased. "He may be the final piece of the puzzle of our qualification. You may leave."

Shaalar nodded and left the office, as Fenfir turned the radio back on.

---

"The fans are causing a lot noise as the Allahakbarium team push forward their advantage. We've only got a couple of minutes of injury time left, and the home team is still trailing by one goal to two, but the Spaamanian defense is having trouble out there. And the match is stopped yet again as a flare is thrown on the field near the opposition goal. We're waiting as the security removes it and puts it in a bucket before we restart this match, which has become a real arm wrestle. Okay, we're back on, and Allahakbarium have the ball on the half-way line, while Spaam has retreated well back into their half. The conditions are challenging out there, but Allahakbarium are buoyed by the crowd support, and they're passing well, making their opposition chase them. Time is running out as they... he's kicked it towards goal and GOAL! That was unexpected! He's shot from 30 metres out and it's sailed in through the top of goal and Oridul Inasys had no chance to get his hands on that one. They've tied it up! We've got maybe a minute to go now and Allahakbarium have done the impossible, drawing with a team ranked two hundred places above them. This is definitely a round of upsets..."

[Oontaz Dert Li Ng]

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WORLD CUP 78 QUALIFIERS: OONTAZ VS COLONIAL AUSTRALIA
By Abdulmecid Macasaysayan


Oontaz's Zulfiqli bin Alisher fights to keep the ball against a Colonial Australian player. (Courtesy of Crescent News Network Sports Channel/Oliver Hassanal)

ISLAMIC CITY OF MARAWI, LANAO DO SUL, OONTAZ - The Sultanate of Oontaz won their second consecutive game in the World Cup 78 qualifiers after a complete showing against Colonial Australia.

Zulfiqli bin Alisher opened the scoring with a simple goal in which he appeared to be merely passing the ball to the back of the net.

Martin Opulencia had a chance to double the Lions of Sand and Sea's lead when he rose up to meet Zulfiqli's corner kick but his attempt whacked loudly against the crossbar.

Godzilla then made sure of the two-goal cushion with a rasping strike from a tough angle which had the opposing keeper bamboozled when the ball flew into the far corner while he was expecting it to go to the near corner.

In the second half, Timothy San Marcelino smacked the side netting with his attempt and Oren Ya'akovi had a goal chalked off due to his being offside even as video replays showed that the veteran Riuwiee United striker was actually barely onside when he tapped the ball in from Zulfiqli's square pass.

Oontaz manager Ador Macaspac: "Yes, we won, but we also had another goal wrongly disallowed. I know that I said before that having a goal disqualified for offside was nothing compared to winning but now the feeling has been reversed. Now it's the other way around: we may have won but I'm still a little angry and bitter that we had a goal ruled out. Oren Ya'akovi was onside and everyone knows it."

        OONTAZ 2 - 0 COLONIAL AUSTRALIA
ZULFIQLI (23')
GODZILLA (44')

OONTAZ DERT LI NG
GK: 1 Ansarifarid
RB: 25 Opulencia
RCB: 3 Macaraig
LCB: 49 Campanilla
LB: 15 Portencio
DM: 5 San Marcelino (Ramirez - 57' █)
CM: 7 Abu Nayef
RW: 77 Zulfikar (Ya'akovi - 70')
CAM: 20 Dimaintindihan
LW: 75 Zulfiqli
ST: 7 Godzilla (Tza'eer - 70')

MATCH STATISTICS
Possession
Oontaz: 55%
Colonial Australia: 45%
Shots
Oontaz: 12 (6 on target)
Colonial Australia: 3 (1 on target)
Corners
Oontaz: 7
Colonial Australia: 2
Fouls
Oontaz: 15
Colonial Australia: 20

[Frejo]

Frejo 0–2 Flardania

An interview with the Coach.-
INTERVIEWER: How has your team been doing so far?
COACH: Okay, So, We have not been doing so well so far, with 2 wins - 4 losses.
INTERVIEWER: Why not?
COACH: We have been a little bit too defensive, we should try and be passionate, and score more goals.
INTERVIEWER: Ah, I see, well, how have your team members been doing?
COACH: A substitute got food poisoning, but he is expected to be okay by tomorrow.
INTERVIEWER: How did he get sick?
COACH: He ate at a restaurant, and the food was spoiled, so he got sick.
INTERVIEWER: Oh. Do you think you will win next time?
COACH: I hope so.

[Chromatika]

Free Republics 2-5 Chromatika
Lineup vs. Free Republics: Ria; Morningstar - Aart - Ellen; Kelly (C) - Montague - Sybill - Harbin; Victoriane - Andisori - Dragana. Subs: Ilya -> Morningstar ('51), Quren -> Andisori ('71), Hellion -> Sybill ('83)
Goals vs. Free Republics: Victoriane '8 assisted by Andisori; Andisori '22 assisted by Dragana; Dragana '42 assisted by Harbin; Kelly '54 assisted by Aart; Quren '80 assisted by Dragana. Player of the Match: Jazmin Dragana (1 goal, 2 assists)

Chromatika 4-1 Damukuni
Lineup vs. Damukuni: Nier; Morningstar - Aart - Ellen; Kelly (C) - Montague - Hellion - Liam; Rien - Andisori - Antonio. Subs: Niro -> Rien ('49), Damjana -> Ellen ('66), Victoriane -> Antonio ('79)
Goals vs. Damukuni: Antonio '11 assisted by Hellion; Andisori '33 unassisted; Niro '61 assisted by Andisori; Victoriane '90+1 assisted by Andisori. Player of the Match: Keira Andisori (1 goal, 2 assists)

A nine-goal barrage against the fifth and second seeded teams in the group handed the Chromatiks sole possession of first place of Group 5 with a game to go in the first leg of qualifying. In the game at the Free Republics, the speed lineup put together by Sillian Parker did its intended work, choosing to base their probing attacks based on precision and finesse instead of brute strength. Though it was Love Holm and Kalervo Peltoia who opened the scoring in the opening minutes in a shocking display of stage fright by Mia Ria, the Chromatik defense was able to calm her down. She settled in to give a great performance through the rest of the game, and Jazmin Dragana was instrumental in reversing the scoreline with a goal and two assists to Keira Andisori and Nioli Quren. Kaytlyn Victoriane showed her versatility by playing the entire game on the right wing, showing both her range in coming back to support the midfield as needed as well as her speed to complement the attacks up front. It also seemed that Meagan was quite comfortable with pushing the ball up to Kaytlyn in her new position.

For the clash for first place at the Capitalizt Dome against Damukuni, it was Jillian Nier who showed her merit. Damukuni's 4-4-2 proved difficult to crack, and the game was even for the first thirty minutes; however, Nier's nine saves out of ten shots on goal bought the team the time to solve the antics of Yamamoto. Not to be outdone by the accolades that Kaytlyn Victoriane and Jazmin Dragana had been accruing, it was Keira Andisori who turned in a masterful performance in this match, with a goal and two assists. Kaytlyn Victoriane continued to show her versatility, coming in for Gabriella Antonio in this match and pushing in the fourth goal for the home side. Victoriane proving that she can play any of the forward positions provides Parker with options that simply cannot be ignored, especially coming from someone as cerebral as he is; the Chromatik arsenal continues to get deadlier.

Silian Parker is expected to start all of his backups for the last match of the first leg, away at Abisa. As it could be argued that the toughest matches scoreline-wise have come against teams that the Chromatiks were supposed to handle without much issue, it would be pertinent for him to keep a close eye on the strategic flow of the game and supplement as necessary. There are also rumors that he might call up a bench squad for the second leg if the team's qualifying efforts continue to cruise, but Parker has declined to comment on that at this point, saying that it would be needless speculation that would be better left off as solid facts once the facts became available.

Lineups @ Abisa: Ria; Ilya - Stef - Damjana; Etienne - Montague - Sybill - Harbin; Niro - Victoriane (C) - Dragana.

[Abanhfleft]

*Warning: All statements made by persons within this series are theirs and theirs alone, and do not reflect the views of the Fleftic Football Federations, its staff, coaches, players, and other affiliated personnel.

The Games of Their Lives, World Cup Edition (Part One)

Abanhfleft v Barunia, Cup of Harmony 63, Krytenia (Part Three)

When we last left off, the game was finely poised at 3-3 with half an hour still left to play. We have three different goalscores for Barunia (Verity Michel, Thomas Marsh, and Miguel Manzana) while Chelsea Stuart had scored twice for the Lady Revolutionaries either side of Bella Maynard's free kick goal which no one, not even Bella herself, was expecting. Now, at the hour mark of this round of 16 game in the 64th Cup of Harmony between Abanhfleft and Barunia, after being put under pressure for almost the entirety of the second half up to that point, it now appeared as if Abanhfleft were the likelier side to score another goal. And, as we are about to see, the Lady Revolutionaries are about to do just that.

We've already discussed the potent combination of Chelsea Stuart and Alexandra Rousseau during the segment about Stuart's second goal against Barunia. It only makes sense that we continue with the two of them as it is through the two of them that Abanhfleft gets their hands on the lead for the first time ever in this game. "It's almost freaky, this thing that we've got going between us," Rousseau said as we began talking about the fourth goal. "It's like we've got this, what do you call it, a tele-pathetic link..."

"You mean telepathic, Alex," Stuart clarified, sending the two of them into fits of giggles once again. "Telepathic is the thing where we look like we can communicate mentally with each other. Tele-pathetic is just someone trying to fake as a telepath and not doing a good job at it."

"But you put it in words so well, Chels," Rousseau said. "We both got this thing where we really look like we're talking with our minds. I mean, where else have you seen two gals or guys move together with such skill and coordination?"

"Your coach comes to mind," Stuart replied. "Matt Cave, I mean. Didn't he and Finn Jameson have much the same thing we have when they were playing for the national team too?"

"But sis, Matt Cave and Finn Jameson were really one of a kind. They weren't just telepathic; they were almost like twin brothers with their moves and stuff!" Rousseau pressed.

"Stop with trying to be humble, Alex," Stuart said with a smile. "It doesn't suit you too much."

I then had to interrupt them because it was now time to talk about Abanhfleft's fourth goal. In basic terms, it was a mirror image of the third goal with Stuart running the ball and then providing the assist for Rousseau, whose diving header gives it a shout for being one of the better goals scored in the 64th Cup of Harmony. "What did I tell you, Chels?" Rousseau asked as they watched the clip. "Your hold-up play is just as good as mine is. It's just that people notice me more because I've got bigger hips and thighs."

"Hey, you said that, not me," Stuart countered.

The aforementioned clip of Rousseau's goal against Barunia begins to play. A simple pass from Lea Choi allows Chelsea Stuart to run at the Barunian defense with the ball at her feet. It's a simple run that immediately gets the Fleftic portion of the stadium excited and noisy. They shout at Stuart to shoot the ball and get her hat trick but she then demonstrates her own hold-up ability by keeping the attention of two Barunian players focused on her. Suddenly, Rousseau enters the picture and Stuart lifts the ball above the defense for what appears to be a simple cross for Rousseau, but the ball falls just a little bit short of Rousseau's expectations and she has to dive at it. She reaches the ball before the Barunian keeper and uses her head to plant the ball into the back of the net. The celebration of both the fans and the players is almost unbelievable. No one looks ready to dare to believe until the video cuts to the scoreboard and shows Abanhfleft leading Barunia 4-3.

"I'd say that that's the moment that the fans and the team began to believe that we were going to make it through," Rousseau admitted after the clip had ended. "And could you blame us? Could you blame any of us and all of us? We were going toe to toe with Barunia. We were showing them that we could stand up to them and match them goal for goal. If they score one then we'll score one as well. This time though, we're the ones who scored first. That's honestly as good as it gets."

Four minutes separate Chelsea Stuart's second goal and Alex Rousseau's first and now Abanhfleft has four goals to Barunia's three. And Abanhfleft looked like they still had at least a goal or two still left in them. No wonder people got excited and began to hope. This was a very unique opportunity and the fans weren't going to let go so easily. And they also didn't want their team to give up on it easily too. They knew of their team's capacity for bottling leads in important and they were basically willing their team to victory, hoping that their support would get the Lady Revolutionaries over the finish line. But, as we're about to see, it wasn't meant to be. Abanhfleft's golden chance was about to tarnish right in front of their faces. (Yes, I know that gold doesn't rust or even tarnish but you get the metaphor that I'm trying to present here, right?)

64 minutes into the game and Abanhfleft were on top of the world. Well, at least they were on top of Barunia at the moment. There was a good feeling around the teams and the fans, usually so negative and pessimistic. But not today. Their team was leading the 18th best team in the multiverse (at the time) by four goals to three and there seemed to be nowhere to go but up. But it's hitting those high peaks which makes the downfall all that harder and more painful, and as we are about to see, things are about to get very painful indeed,
both on the physical and emotional level.

As I've said earlier, Abanhfleft were flying high courtesy of Alex Rousseau's goal which saw the Lady Revolutionaries four goals up to Barunia's three. People were happy and even optimistic for a change. If only they knew what was coming in the next few minutes then they would never have bothered with the optimism and positivity at all.

Lillian Prescott is part of the Mythical Five of Riuwiee State University but she,
like her wing partner Adelaide Singh, is one of the less remembered of their little group. This isn't a dig on her abilities, mind you. It just so happens that the likes of Chelsea Stuart, Alex Rousseau, and Allison Torres are just that bit better than Lilly and Addie. But never let it be said that they don't pull their weight for club and country; they do. It's just that some of their teammates are doing a better and flashier job of it.

"Do I like playing second fiddle? Of course not," Prescott told me when I interviewed her. "But just because I don't want to be a second fiddle doesn't make me blind to the fact that the girls, Chelsea, Alex, and Sonny, are those one of a kind generational talents that people talk about every time whenever someone asks who's the greatest of them all. But to have been part of that generation and to be part of the squad that complements these girls is truly an honor, and I wouldn't want to trade it for the chance to become the superstar of the team. There's no I in team anyway."

But, as Prescott would later find out, there is an I in injury, and it would end up costing the Lady Revolutionaries big time. "I don't even remember parts of what happened," she told me when asked about it. "All I remember was that one moment I was standing and the next I'm on the ground clutching my knee because it really hurts bad. I think I actually heard something pop as well, but I don't want to discomfort anyone watching this."

The clip of Lilly Prescott's infamous injury against Barunia begins to play. It was the men and women in sky blue's number 33, Thomas Marsh, who is responsible for the injury. He goes in for the slide tackle and catches Prescott's calves, and when Lilly goes down from the contact, there is a glimpse of the impact with the ground which twisted her knee two ways, something which knees are never meant to do. After extensive medical treatment on the pitch,
Prescott hobbles off the field on her own power but barely. Cecilia Johnson replaces Prescott on the pitch, setting the stage for one of Abanhfleft's biggest heartbreaks.

"Ooh!" Prescott exclaimed when she watched the clip. "I knew that it hurt like hell but I didn't know that it looked that horrible as well! God, that injury cost me over half an entire season, heck, maybe even half a whole year! And, even though everyone has told me that it's not true, a part of me still feels as if us losing was entirely my fault for getting injured in the first place. God, I'm so sorry..." she trailed off before she became lost for words.

And it wasn't as if Lilly Prescott's replacement would fare any better. Cecilia Johnson, CeCe to her friends, was famous for being the ever-present foil to her wing partner Rachel Azul. Most people remember her then for being a stick-thin winger with bags of pace and who could knock down opponents twice or even thrice as big as her. Of course now people know CeCe Johnson for the spectacular ending to this game but before that, she was just another winger among many. But what could be termed her downward spiral started spinning off here, when she took Lillian Prescott's place on the pitch.

"Honestly, I didn't know all of the shit that was about to befall me when I stepped onto the pitch," Johnson recalled during my interview with her. "But I believe that even if I did know what was going to happen when I wake up, I would probably still have done it again. After all, no one has claimed to be the reason for two of the country's heartbreaks, right?" She asked me with a teasing grin.

A clip of Johnson in action against Barunia begins to play. She didn't make an immediate impact when she stepped onto the pitch but she is about to play her part in the unfolding drama. Johnson is marking Verity Michel and forcing her opposite number to keep the ball and not attempt the cross. Suddenly, Johnson trips on her own feet, which allows Michel the opportunity to slip past the Fleftic defense and plant a cross into the box. And who else should be there than Miguel Manzana, who has just become a brace bae (yes, it's a real term much as some people have come to regret it) by heading in his second goal of the game.

"But seriously though, I'd probably want to change the fact that I slipped just so they don't get that easy a chance again. And I'd probably outlaw the use of the word bae to describe a significant other or a hot guy or girl!"

Up next is the moment Fleftic fans have been both waiting and dreading for...
This is The Games of Their Lives.

---

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WORLD CUP 78 QUALIFIERS: KEL ASSUK VS ABANHFLEFT
By Malik Qazizadah


Kel Assuk's Isula Azellay celebrates his equalizing goal for his country deep into stoppage time against Abanhfleft at the Tin Hinan Stadium in Marandet. (Courtesy of Crescent News Network Sports Channel/Andros Tasasa)

MARANDET, KEL ASSUK - Abanhfleft went away from the Tin Hinan Stadium with only a point after Isula Azellay's late equalizer nullified Allison Torres' first-half strike and cast doubts upon the Lady Revolutionaries' chances of qualifying for the World Cup in doubt once again.

Concerns about the heat in Kel Assuk affecting the Lady Revolutionaries' style of play seemed to have been dispelled almost immediately when the Fleftics put the hosts under pressure almost right after kickoff, but it did take nearly twenty minutes before Torres found the breakthrough for her team after turning in a loose ball from Alexandra Rousseau's attempt from right at the edge of the box.

Rousseau then had a chance to double the lead when she found herself in space but her attempt was tame and easily smothered by Aksil Saidi-Sief of the home side.

The heat then seemed to get into the players' heads in the second half with Rousseau and Lillian Prescott going into the referee's notebook for Abanhfleft and Anaruz Taher was lucky to get away with only a yellow after chopping down Allison Torres.

As the game wore on and the heat began to beat down upon the Lady Revolutionaries, Kel Assuk took advantage and began mounting counterattacks at the Fleftic goal, but it would be from a set piece in stoppage time from which Kel Assuk would get their equalizer courtesy of Isula Azellay's head turning in Seyni Ait Ahmed's corner.

Aksil Saidi-Sief then saw yellow for time-wasting after holding on to the ball for too long during the five-minute stoppage time that ensued after Taher's tackle on Torres.

Playing the blame game?
Critics of Holly Jonasson were quick to pounce on this draw with Kel Assuk as a reason why a back four formation will not work if she wants to keep advancing Abanhfleft to the World Cup, conveniently forgetting the fact that she did just that the last time that the Lady Revolutionaries stepped up to the plate of qualifying for the World Cup in the name of the Democratic Republic.

And there is no use blaming the change in formation to accommodate four defenders because all of the Mythical Five were fit and available for this game and Jonasson deployed all of them, sacrificing numbers in midfield and opting to deploy Lea Choi as a sweeper in front of Miriam Hannibal and Claudine Samaniego.

And it will also be all too easy to blame the heat in Kel Assuk for the failure of the players to hold on to their lead or add to Torres' solitary goal, not that her teammates didn't make the effort to add their names to the score sheet.

Abanhfleft women's team manager Holly Jonasson: "It was a poor game from the players. We know that we can play better than this but perhaps the biggest dose of bad luck for us all is the fact that we couldn't score more goals. That could very well have been the difference between winning and just drawing.

"It's too easy to blame everything on just the heat. Yes, I am willing to admit that the heat played a factor in our less effective style of play but I also know that the ladies could have done better even under this conditions. It's not just the heat that's the problem. But to tell the truth, high summer in Rosenpfelblatz feels like a nice spring day compared to Kel Assuk."

Abanhfleft will face Hirvania at Oubie Park in Lotharstadt, Xemlice for game eight of the World Cup 78 qualifiers.

      KEL ASSUK 1 - 1 ABANHFLEFT
AZELLAY (90+1')       TORRES (18')

ABANHFLEFT
GK: 13 Foulke
RB: 14 Warren
RCB: 15 Hannibal
LCB: 18 Samaniego
LB: 16 Heaton (Valentine - 64')
CM: 6 Choi
RW: 7 Prescott █
CAM: 10 Torres (Mesbros - 70')
LW: 8 Singh
RS: 9 Stuart
LS: 11 Rousseau █ (Dolan - 62')

KEL ASSUK
GK: 1 Saidi-Sief █
RB: 2 Ouyahia
CB: 4 Othmani (Zbiri - 89')
LB: 5 Azergui
RDM: 17 Taher █
LDM: 6 M'Hidi
RM: 7 Hasnaoui (Al-Ouaer - 68')
LM: 8 Ait Ahmed
CAM: 9 Khalej
RS: 10 Ben Hassi (Feraoun - 59')
LS: 11 Azellay

STATISTICS
Possession
Kel Assuk: 46%
Abanhfleft: 54%
Shots
Kel Assuk: 9 (4 on target)
Abanhfleft: 18 (10 on target)
Corners
Kel Assuk: 4
Abanhfleft: 6
Fouls
Kel Assuk: 12
Abanhfleft: 16

[Schottia]

OOC: For the second half of qualifying I wanted to return to the main story line I've been working on for the last cycle and a half. This picks up from the events during the last WC finals, and follows on directly from here.

---

The North Handon Way

Part One.

From beyond the grave.

Even the sky seemed to be grieving - or maybe it was just pissing on them - as the mourners stood sodden in Livingstone Kirkyard. The Church was built at the top of a steep hill, and Derek Bruce Hanson's open grave stood at the bottom, like a gaping mouth, swallowing down the torrent of water that currently ran through the legs of those assembled to see him off. Hanson's funeral had been inevitable since his health took a turn for the worse in San Jose Guayabal two years ago, but it had done little to prepare his friends and family for the shock. It was questionable whether any of them were able to hear the Reverend Colin Moffatt as he gave his sermon; such was the noise the rain made, battering off the coffin lid. It was like a marching drum, playing the man out, as he set off on his final journey to wherever the fates decided.

Claire Hanson-Conavacio's hair was plastered to her skull, her mascara running down her face in long ungainly rivers of black. Such was the volume of water falling on her head, she couldn't have said for sure whether she was crying or not. She gripped tightly, digging her fingers into the back of her husband's hand; partly through grief, partly through fear of being washed away. She kept picturing herself being sucked down into the rectangular hole in front of her, and as the water gurgled in the depths bellow, she could imagine falling for all eternity, down through bowels of the earth.

Claire had never been good with emotions, of anything that involved showing her sensitive side. The funeral coincided with Schottia's match against New Gazi, and the Physio was originally going to travel with the team instead. It wasn't until her manager, Lionel Mah, forced her to go on leave, that she decided to attend. Why the fuck did people bother with funerals? It was almost like it was constructed to extract as much grief from you as possible. You sit in this sombre, echoy room, surrounded by crying people dressed in black, then you went outside and watched your loved one dropped into a cold dark hole.

Claire felt like she was drowning - she blew hard through her nostrils, clearing some of the water from her nasal passage. She couldn't help but wander what her father would make of this, if he were watching down on them. Ever the pragmatist, he wouldn't have been impressed by them soaking themselves on his behalf.

Get yersels the fuck inside, ye daft bastards!

---

It was warm inside Lord's Bar, but it was going to take more than a warm pub to dry the mourners out. Claire, soaked through to her underwear, was doing her best to survive a conversation with her Uncle Gerry; a bulbous and overly chatty individual. If he were wearing a black suit and tie there was no way of telling, as he was still clad in a long bottle green waterproof jacket and trousers, topped off ridiculous looking yellow umbrella hat (the kind Claire had actually though only existed in fancy-dress shops shops).

'Aye, he died doing what he loved best.' Gerry Hanson babbled, his speech already slurred from the couple of whiskies he'd had. 'Moaning his arse off aboot fitba.' Gerry had been with Claire's father when he had passed away, and seemed to be taking some morbid pleasure from the celebrity status it afforded him. Claire had now been told the story of her father's last words a dozen times, and had overheard it about a dozen more.

'He certainly enjoyed his football, Uncle Gerry.' Claire tipped the rest of her red wine down her throat; as far as she was concerned she couldn't get drunk quick enough. 'Unfortunately, however, the doctors had informed him to stay away from any activities likely to raise his heart rate.' They had managed to get her mum's cousin Nora to have the kids for the evening, and if one good thing came of today, it would be her getting properly plastered.

'He had a point though...' Gerry added, staring pensively into the distance. Claire's uncle looked a lot like her father, only with a little more hair and a lot more weight, most of it lying round his neck and waistline in rolls.

'He had a point about what, Uncle Gerry?' Claire was looking round for her husband Leonardo, trying to see if was en route to the bar.

'Michi Leonard.'

'Michi?'

'Michi Leonard.'

'Michi..? Oh Michi Leonard. What about her?' Claire was only half paying attention, and the change in topic was so tangential that he momentarily lost her.

'He always said she should've been in that fuckin team, and look what happened tae them against, bloody... bloody...' He snapped his fingers loudly, which had the effect of making his excess fat wobble like a big bowl of jelly. 'Tveidalen! Your dad always said she should have been in the Nephara team; Porty players are always overlooked. See, a player like Leonard, they break down the play, by closing down the space for the opposition...'

Claire was watching his mouth move, his cheeks dancing back and forth, but she wasn't listening to a word. Where the fuck was Leo? She needed a drink so badly, her mouth had gone dry. She had this sudden urge to grab the whisky from her uncle's hand and drink it. Was this what grief was like? If so, it was a lot like alcoholism.

'...Ye ken she was the captain of the youth team at... Och where the hell did she play in Nephara...'

She would tune back in late when he was talking about something more interesting than domestic football. It was like having a conversation with her father from beyond the grave - the dead man being quoted in a football argument at his own funeral. It stood to reason that your argument was shot to ribbons when you had to summon a heavenly witness.

'Oh Colin.' Claire grabbed the Reverend Colin Moffatt by the sleeve as he passed, hoping he would drag her away from Uncle Gerry's rant about football. 'I wanted to say thank you for such a lovely sermon. My dad would have been very touched to hear such kind words.' Both of them knew it was a lie, but what could Moffatt say?

'You're very welcome Claire, and again, I'm so sorry to you and your family for your loss.' The fact that Claire and Colin had been romantically involved as teenagers, was something that both of them were keen not to dwell on at present. 'Your father was a great man.' Another lie - and they both knew it - but again, what could you say. 'Shame the weather didn't want to play ball.'

'I don't know,' Claire saw a gap at the bar, and began shuffling the conversation towards the opening. 'It's not like my father was going to mind getting wet.' To say that Lord's Bar had a "local flavour" would perhaps be a kind way of putting it. The place was generally only populated by the same dozen grumpy old men, for whom the pub was like a second living room. Keith Lord had owned the placed since before Claire was born, and it had allegedly belonged to his father before him. Lord, himself, was a tall skinny man, with greyish skin, bloodshot eyes, and greased back white hair, yellowed slightly by cigarette smoke. It was safe to say that no one came to the bar for the ambience.

'And are you coping okay?' The vicar asked, following suit as he leaned on the edge of the bar. 'It's a lot to take in I know, and there's no shame in asking for a little help.' Claire could see that he was treading a fine line in his head.

'Thanks Colin, but really I'm fine.' She smiled, checking over her shoulder to see who was watching before placing a friendly hand upon his shoulder. 'I guess the excitement of the World Cup was just too much for him. As my Uncle Gerry would delight in saying: "He died doing what he loved best." ' World Cup 77 had been a turning point in her life in so many ways, and not just her father's illness. It had been the end of the road for Leonardo as a WCC accredited internationalist, and they had even lost their home in San Jose Guayabal, the only one the kids had really known.

'It was a good match, against Electrum I mean.' Colin cringed at the insensitivity of his comments, but Claire clearly hadn't taken any offence.

'We'll exactly, he'd always wanted to see Schottia playing in the World Cup...' She broke off, as Keith Lord prompted her for her order. 'A red wine... no actually a large red wine... come to think of it, I'll take a dram of the Glen Elen too. What about you Colin?' She turned back to the vicar.

'Oh just a half pint of Ossorian Stout please.'

'Make it a pint of stout,' she told the barman, and Colin didn't protest.

'GO AN TURN THONE TELE UP KEITH!' Came a roar from the end of the bar. 'THE FITBA'S COMING ON!'

'I suppose it's what the big man would have wanted.' Keith replied before pointing the remote at the old CRT television, which sat above the fruit machine, turning the volume up to an ear-crackling level. This was the second time now that Claire had heard her father's opinion summoned from beyond the grave to settle arguments. Having the football on at a wake was fantastically poor taste, but as she looked around at the eager faces, she doubted anyone would be minded to complain. It was a reminder for Claire that she wasn't with the team, and at the end of the day, that was where she felt she should have been. New Gazi had a good attacking game, and having been in and around the World top 100 teams for a few years now, they had real banana skin potential.

"...That's right Davy, there is no Paul Doig for this match, so we are going to see young James Robertson make his first outing in four years at left-back..."

Fuck it. Maybe Keith Lord was right; it was very fitting. As Claire stood drinking her whisky and red wine chaser, she could easily imagine her father's dome of a bald head amongst the sea of mourners, eyes fixed on the game.

[Eastfield Lodge]

(OOC: Obviously based off THE’s most recent World Cup Lies post, and should be taken about as seriously.)

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Re: Discorporation at the Hippodrome

The comprehensive analysis of what really happened at the Hippodrome, not what the alternative fact factory at the Mammoth Compendium would have you believe.

If you are an avid fan of a certain Imperial publication, you may have recently read their discourse on the recent World Cup qualification match between The Holy Empire and Eastfield Lodge, which was actually abandoned at 5-1 to us, not a 3-0 forfeit to them after we were leading 2-0 (the reason why it was recorded as a 5-1 win for the opposition we will get onto in due course). However, it wasn’t only the scoreline that the dreamers got wrong, many of the facts regarding the nature of the Eastfielder bubble universe are also wrong. In this article, we aim to correct these errors, so that we may all be better educated (all quotes are lifted from the compendium’s article)

1: (the Holy Empire had no role in the events that led to the creation of the bubble universe; the Holy Empire is not responsible for the actions of individual imperial citizens; HEFA, ISPI, and SBIS deny any involvement of any official party in the Holy Empire over said events)

To those of you normy-mundies who are unaware of the Eastfielder bubble universe, let us explain. Around 40 years ago (your mileage may vary), Eastfield Lodge were participating the 55th edition of the World Cup. During the World Cup, the previous incarnation of the ICELFA, known as the Eastfielder FA, drew the ire of the public for some reason, and they started barricading the FA headquarters, and a riot soon broke out when a/several guy(s) named Jose Miguel Planudes, named for some reason after the Holy Empire’s kitman who had recently gone missing (the Holy Empire were one of our qualifying group opponents), brought weapons and blasted the doors open. Anyways, something timey-wimey happened, and soon the main particle accelerator in a physics facility near Mount Salt City went into overdrive, sucking the entirety of the commonwealth of Eastfield Lodge through a crack in time and space (at least it had a smile), and into this bubble universe.
So why is the above claim wrong? Well, it’s technically true, nobody in any official capacity from the Holy Empire did anything - a bunch of guys turned up, calling themselves trainee oneirologists and claiming to have been sent by ISPI/SBIS to help stabilize the new bubble. Obviously they were actually fraudsters with no understanding of oneirology, and couldn’t back up their claim that their Imperial university required a field practical in emergency oneirology. Fortunately, we had enough Time Lords on hand who could institute a temporary fix - it turns out that basic oneirology is an optional subject at the highest level of education in the Time Lord Academy.

2: But, as we note, the Eastfieldian bubble universe isn’t as stable as the Eastfieldians think it is. After all, they didn’t use trained oneirologists to set it up, so it stands to reason that it’s limited by flawed mundy conceptions of time and space.

Actually, we know how unstable the bubble universe is. Around twenty years ago, we had to isolate instabilities in the Void which were threatening to implode the bubble universe, and by switching out the crystals we had from Metebelis II with more stable ones from its neighbouring planet Metebelis III, we were able to stabilize those froominations long enough to shift the vortex insufficiencies onto Ossidiacqua, which at the time was in the middle of its own time-space rift disaster. Also, we didn’t use trained oneirologists to set up the initial bubble or in this case, mainly because the dreamies refused several requests to send real oneirologists to clean up the mess that the fake ones made in the first place. We had to make do with rudimentary understandings of the theory, dammit.

3: But the Eastfield Lodge bubble universe has an unquantified chaotic instability in the P axis that froominates the wheezle in the shoggleboosits. As readers will be well aware, froominating the wheezle can lead to any number of problems if the shoggleboosits hasn’t had a jaggle recalibration of the minklefood prior to the switching of the lipplesink.

A few points to be made here: firstly, the instability has been partially quantified, and is most certainly not chaotic - the instability does have a pattern of variance, even though it looks wibbly-wobbly in any dimensional geometry up to and including the 14th, although the 10th does give a few hints of how to quantify it if you care to examine the Alignment of Exodor. Secondly, the froomination of the wheezle problem was actually resolved by adding a Mondasian ganoora into the minklefood, and reversing the polarity of the neutron flow in the jaggle recalibration made future froominations of the wheezle much less likely. The jaggle recombination was then rendered unnecessary, mainly because it was actually harming the system.

4: Because of the froominaion of the wheezle, the Eastfield Lodge team simply discorporated at halftime. At that point the visitors were actually leading 2-0, potentially leading to a shock upset of the multiverse’s GREATEST TEAM EVER. Instead, the shock discorporation forced the hosts to award a 3-0 default bye to the Holy Empire.

As it turns out, most of this chain of events is wrong. It turns out that a prankster decided to introduce a Silurian virus into the monitoring system, causing the illusion of new instabilities in the aforementioned P-axis, alongside axes Θ and Σ (assuming a 231st semi-hyperbolic geometry with an unreal complex function as the field determinant). Anyway, in the process of correcting this, the lipplesink was somehow switched into the antimatter position, and the resulting disturbance in the wheezle (not a froomination however, it was an olantromation, as discovered by a renowned Peladon scientist) caused a temporary matter switch and also the creation of a stasis bubble, which contained the visiting Eastfielder team and the fans as well. It also caused a biological chain reaction, where the memories of everyone in the vicinity (as well as everyone watching) were switched as well.
The information that was switched was the scoreline, which was reading Holy Empire 1-5 Eastfield Lodge, into the reverse Holy Empire 5-1 Eastfield Lodge which was subsequently recorded by the WCC. Of course, the match had to be abandoned as the referee (an unfortunate normo-mundy who has no experience of the intricacies of abnormal dimensional life) was too shaken up to call a forfeit, and instead called for the match to abandoned at 5-1 to THE. Of course, the Imperial oneirologists sorted out the stasis bubble quite quickly, but that they even allowed this to happen in the first place and that they refused to correct the biological mishap suggests some manner of corruption amongst this supposedly ‘esteemed’ field, mainly wanting to hide their own team’s obvious failings in this match from the annals of history. For shame.

5: All is not lost for the Eastfield Lodge national team. Should the minklefood be recalibrated with a jaggle calibration instead of the hilariously inadequate shoofle recalibration originally used by the Eastfieldian ‘scientists’ (more like witchdoctors, but there are only so many casual snide insults we can throw out at mundies each matchday), then it might be possible to retrieve the corporeal form of the visitors. Imperial oneirologists are offering to lend their expertise to the mundies to achieve this very result; we don’t want anything bad to happen to their squad, even it’s realistically all their own fault anyway. Should the jaggle recalibration of the minklefood avoid further froominating the wheezle (especially in the shoggleboosits), then there’s every expectation that the Eastfieldians will be able to field their normal squad in the next match.

This is merely a cover for the obvious ‘prank’ that an Imperial citizen performed and that the supposedly ‘trained’ Imperial oneirologists either decided to ignore or, even worse, allow, conveniently restoring the Eastfielder contingent after the biological recalibration (which we should note is called the shoofle recalibration in oneirology circles - even more damning evidence, we say) without reversing said shoofle recalibration. The corporeal forms have already been reformed, and the team have already returned to the bubble in order to prepare for the first of 9 crunch matches that stand between them and a now-likely qualification. Instead of the offer for Imperial oneirologists to perform their own basic modifications to the system, maybe they should take some tips from us bubble-mundy oneirologists on how to perform experimental oneirology in an emergency, something which they seem woefully inadequate at doing.

---

MD5: Eshan 2-2 Eastfield Lodge
Line-up (4-1-2-3): Harvey - Bacon, Bell Jnr, Nagi, Phal - Rice, Bevan (Wallis-Iqbal 57’), The Doctor - Glibin, Hansen (Quazin 68’), Drenas
Goals (Assists): Rice (27’), Drenas (82’ - Quazin)

MD6: Eastfield Lodge 3-3 Olastor
Line-up (4-1-2-3): Mintson - Fretwell, Bell Jnr, Gauthier, Siddique - Onatish, L. Quazin (Rice 73’), The Doctor - Glibin (Asif 83’), F. Quazin, Fransson (Abdalla 73’)
Goals (Assists): Fransson (23’ - L. Quazin; 63’), Glibin (51’ - Fransson)

MD7: The Holy Empire 5-1 Eastfield Lodge
Line-up (4-1-2-3): Mintson - Fretwell, Bell Jnr, Gauthier, Siddique - Abdalla, L. Quazin (Bevan 68’), The Doctor - Glibin (Wadimu 68’), F. Quazin, Fransson (Drenas 74’)
Goals (Assists): F. Quazin (36’ - Abdalla)

Line-up to play San Regada (4-1-2-3)
Puppy - Towers, Lumo, Rehman, Phal - Onatish, King, The Doctor - Rathun, Berretti, Alder

[Savojarna]

Storevik, 1. March 1909

The news of the massacre in Kjefla had made their way to the other mines, and within days the general discomfort over a lack of supplies and the ongoing resistance of the mining companies of the country to improve the working conditions of their men had turned into a full-on revolutionary mood, one that manifested itself by mass strikes. Ejana had risen up in arms unitedly, and within two days after the first shot had fallen at the FCC mines outside Kjefla, Savojarna's northernmost major island was on a general strike and had assembled in the streets of its capital. The dockworkers had gone on strike as well in solidarity, the railway union agreed to only work to transport workers to Storevik. All trains out of the city were blocked, and the workers would refuse to transport anyone away. Within the city, the streets were completely blocked and full of men demanding food, higher wages and more security.

The protests centered around one place: the Palais Lindhov, seat of the Imperial Security Direction of Ejana and its head Carl Rolfrsson, who had ordered the massacre that took place the days before in the FCC mines. Stones flew up towards the walls of the palais, and the miners and workers in front of it shouted angry paroles at the residence. They hit the walls, the doors and the windows at the top. But after the demonstrations of the past, the windows were protected with metal grids to prevent them from being shattered, and the heavy wood and iron door would not yield unter the pushes of the demonstrating workers. Nevertheless, the men inside were not entirely sure if they could be confident in their door, and after the political disaster of what had happened in Kjefla, the police was unsure how to behave. The deputy Director of Security wanted to send in the troops immediately, but Rolfrsson feared the danger of further backlash and stopped the move. Of course, he tried to take advantage of that and framed his decision as a support of the right to protest, but he couldn't even finish a sentence before he fled off the balcony under the stones, insults and objects flying his way.

Eventually, Rolfrsson had to give in: whatever he thought about the use of brute force, the situation in his capital was not something to ignore anymore. The city was drowning in protesting workers, the roads were blocked, business became absolutely impossible and public law and order barely existed anymore. He sent a message to the city garrison, asking the Army divisions in Storevik for help, but the response was quick and negative: "This has to be authorised by Thorsborg. Ask Ljungberg". Rolfrsson banged his fist on the table and groaned. He knew Ljungberg too well. The commander believed that internal security and politics was not the Army's job, and he knew Ljungberg wouldn't authorise anything more than some assistance. If he wanted to dissolve the protests in front of his office, this couldn't be enough, not possibly.

He looked out of the window again, which was immediately picked up by the sea of protestors. Stones rained against the window, causing the Imperial Security Director to move back quickly. "We cannot tolerate this. We need to do something!", his deputy anxiously said as the flying of stones ebbed off. Rolfrsson shook his head in disbelief, dropped his papers onto the table and finally agreed with the man, authorising the police to protect the palais and empty the square in front of it.

But out on the square, a curious thing happened. The officers walked out of the gates and got in formation to clear the square, but all they did was lowering their arms, and lifting their hands (and shields) to the rain of stones coming down onto them as well. The police commander ordered them to fire into the crowd to disband the assembly, but his men largely resisted the order. They threw their rifles aside, and nobody in the corps dared to shoot. Only a few tried to push back the men from the palais, but they were chanceless to do anything as the vast majority of the police force joined the revolutionaries in solidarity, themselves frustrated over the lack of supplies and the low wages paid to them. The miners, not stopped from attacking the wood and iron doors, kept throwing stones, fists and their pickaxes against them.

It was a question of time until the heavy, thick wooden doors gave way and the mass of miners spilled into the building. The police force tried half-heartedly to defend their own headquarters, but largely just gave up on the task and accepted the course of history. The miners, dockworkers and railway men shouted and cheered as they entered the building, stormed the rooms of the Imperial Security Direction and ultimately reached the room of Rolfrsson and his deputies. The picture was a sad one: The Director said on his table panicking, while the two deputies ran through the room in a pathetic attempt to flee. Meanwhile, Rolfrsson's secretary had entirely given up. The men carried the three high officials that ordered the massacre in Kjefla off and threw them into their own police cells to be dealt with later, while they drew up the red flag of the Revolution above the Imperial Security Direction...