World Cup 91 [roleplays]

[Chartistan]

OOC: Sorry for the very late edit but this is kinda null and void after what THE posted. I was a bit confused after the New Eestiball v THE game and all and I reached out to THE about it, and by the time I posted it he had already RPed the mutations. Think of this as like a little what if scenario or something. Again I apologize for this edit, it's for clarification.

---

Lads, it was the Holy Empire. A team to be reckoned with, the defending World Cup winners and thrice in a row now made the World Cup Final. Any sort of match against the defending champions was one to savor, but this had a little bit of a bite that Doctor Lucas couldn't really had dreamed of once the game was nearing and the Holy Empire team traveled from the Dreamed Realm all the way to Billboard. You see, there was a fair bit of shenanigans going on, shenanigans that even one Alice Wonderworld would find weird, and she's been traveling through portals, albeit not to the Dreamed Realm, for a fair part of her life now. You see, something was a bit amiss. By the looks of things at first this was going to be an ordinary team. I mean come on, they won the World Cup with mad cultists and made 2 straight World Cup Finals with goddamn Cthulhu, there is no way that they could send a NORMAL team! And yeah, this wasn't a normal team, as Doctor Lucas fired up the projector and went over what was really happening to this team.

"This isn't your ordinary run of the mill football team," said Combbrush. "It seems like they're... Mutating. This has gone on for three matches now, and it might as well carry over to this match. I want you to pay attention to Isaac Paraspondylo against Geektopia." The projector showed his head...s. Three heads. Some members of the team felt unwell, and why would they? A player with THREE HEADS!? That feels like something straight out of a horror story, a goalkeeper with three heads would scare the bejesus out of everybody. "Yeah yeah, I know. This happened in the middle of the Vilita game... And here's what happened in the middle of the Geektopia game." He then shows Jose Miguel Arianites with his new advantage - Two feet on each of his wrists. More gasping and shock from the Chartistan team. "This constitutes a major advantage that they have. With Arianites having these feet, he can easily skirt the line between what is and what isn't a handball, hell he can score goals easier with this method! He must be marked at all costs." With a sigh, he turned off the projector as Holly Smier came up.

"Look, as the captain of the Chartistan national team, I know what we saw was... Disheartening, but we have to recognize that this is an opponent that we are facing now. We haven't had to deal with the advantages they had until now, but I know this team can bond around itself and tackle anything head on. And yes, when they do construct that portal to the Dreamed Realm, I'm sure it's going to be worse. The Holy Empire team will be mutated beyond belief and you'll be up there against creatures alien to you. For now though, as Doctor Lucas would say, fight with your heart. We might lose the battle, but we will, eventually, win the war." Holly soon went off, before a hand was raised. It was Slimy Weebs Gone.

"I heard there were some shenanigans going on in that New Eestiball game, what exactly happened?"

Combbrush came on and turned the projector on again, refraining from showing the third mutation for now. "Somebody apparently turned on a vacuum and sucked up the goalie so they could tie the game. That's it, there wasn't another mutation in the middle of the game where Miguel Zarides added two legs to himself. As far as we know. This might as well mean two mutations during the game." And really that was about it. No mutating during the New Eestiball game meant something was going to get wild during the game in Chartistan. I mean, this Chartistan team did come off a 6-2 clobbering of Aut-Ves-Nat...

During the 64th minute, disaster did strike for The Holy Empire. I mean, they were already 3-0 up because of the Arianites feet working way too many wonders for the backline to count, but all of a sudden, Miguel Zarides AND Jorge Sphrantzes were down. At the same time. A divine punishment for the Eestiball vacuum incident, the two players crying in pain as the Imperial medics tended to them. Combbrush's joke regarding Zarides adding two legs to himself actually happened - A pair of legs, both without feet instead of with feet, sprouted from his back. As for Sphrantzes, he had to deal with an extra pair of ears on his head - This time on either side of his neck. Zarides had to be substituted, a once rare move that had turned into a semi-frequent move. That stunning alone left Chartistan with an opportunity, and an ABCDEFU for Gabby Yves, as she scored off a volley to get Chartistan's only goal of the game. A 3-1 loss for sure, but Chartistan were still, somehow, top of the group.

And then there was Vilita and Geektopia. With such higher competition coming in as a wrecking ball, Chartistan tumbled. Once a team sitting on top of their group caught a cold snap and were now on the outside looking in at 4th place. Doctor Lucas stares at the table. Next on the docket: New Eestiball.

"How should I address New Eestiball to you guys? As a team who find ways outside the realm of the multiverse to mess up everything? You know if they hadn't gone full Calvinball on The Holy Empire they would probably had scored another, right?" Doctor Lucas was giving a speech to his team to drive home the point - New Eestiball were as cunning and as cheating as they could be, skirting the rules every single time. "And guess what? It's away at home too. You are now gearing up for a game that will have your foes towing the line between what's right and wrong in the WCC's eyes. If they pull another Calvinball vacuum on us we better be writing a... Persuasive letter to Juliaso.... Juliasterino... Whoever the hell's in charge of the World Cup. All that I'm really asking for you. Watchout for bad things in these parts of the world."

Another hand was raised. Anne Delphine.

"Are we actually going to go through tactics or just go through everything they have in their books?"

They spent 3 hours going over every single trap, every single mechanism, every single THING that can skirt the line between legal and illegal in the rulebook. Down to the finest particle. It was so boring that some members of the team went to sleep. Young Brandonson even got a phonecall trying to tell him what was going on, and all that he could say was "Hold on! I'm going through the tape!" He wasn't going through tape. He was going through hell.

And if hell was what would be needed for Chartistan to win, then so be it.

[Trolleborg]

Previous part is here
And now it has come, the day when even a rich, powerful and inclined to satisfy every whim of its subjects, the state can no longer help you, although it really wants to. The number of planes for the trip to TotoMishin is limited, a statement on the Trolleborg Wings website soberly announced, and Vidar was not among those lucky enough to get a ticket on the few planes dedicated for the needs of the fans. Well, although the times when the fans, even in their own country, got to the place of the games for several days with many transfers or hitchhiking with every sort of adventures, are long gone, but the skills remain. The group, which included Vidar, stocked up at least with football tickets from Trolleborg's quota, and decided to act independently. First of all they are note how lucky it was that such an opportunity fell precisely on the match with TotoMishin, located in the region where the Trolleborg Wings route network was pretty dense. As a fact, there was even a choice of destinations - the company flew to the archipelago as many as three countries: Santiland Republic, Serpens Land and United Sylvakia. But even the almighty Trolleborg computers were bewildered by trying to find a shorter route, although they ended up (not very confidently) concluding that Serpens Land looked like the most preferable of these three options, being separated from the destination by only a few hundred kilometers through the North Mesder Sea. And so Vidar and his comrades set off not on Friday evening, as they were used to, but almost a day earlier, have somehow to put their work obligations aside. The plane left for Serpens Land on schedule, but then no wise computer and no clever book of the “Vazlav” series could help plan the trip. The travelers themselves had to do this ... and, oddly enough, they succeeded. Forty-six hours after leaving home, they joined the crowd of fans in front of the stadium. Behind was a night journey from the airport to the sea, rather tedious negotiations with the owners of the ships, then a long travel through the turbulent North Mesder Sea, even longer than usual, because due to the weather the captain decided not to try the shortest route, through the Four Passages. Despite the pouring rain, which caught the travelers halfway, and the wind that pestered them all the way, they still made it in time for the start of the game. At that time, the team had only two goals left to score 500 in all official competitions, and many fans hoped to see this event in person here, on the distant islands.

TotoMishin made his debut in world football at the last BoF and left the tournament after the group stage, having suffered three defeats in three matches, so it seemed that an experienced visiting team could count on an easy victory, but the injury in the first round of WCQ still affected national morale, so no one made predictions. The hosts built the game ahead on two quick-footed young wingers with an experienced striker at the forefront of attack, and in front of their gates they build two lines of players with whom the visiting team, in the absence of their retired experienced forwards, had many problems. Since all the defenders of TotoMishin are not tall by the standards of our country, with height of less than 180 centimeters, except for one, football experts correctly predicted that the head coach would put forward our main ramming striker Halden Nordenfjord into the attack, and so it happened. Halden did quite a lot of damage to the defenders, regularly outplaying them in the air, throwing the ball under the shots of teammates and shooting himself several times. Kranforde was paired with him, and was constantly lurked around the penalty area and around. All four midfielders and formal left back Loonstrup were joined them, since three “classic” defenders, as it was decided, were quite enough to fight opponents near Trolleborg box, and so it happened. And in the end, it was the massive pressure that made the hosts make a mistake – Troll make one of his great long-range shots, the ball flew through the palisade of legs right to the goal, Irvan somehow, almost miraculously, put him off, but Kranforde was at the right time in the right place and did his job as a forward the best way.

But none of the teams could achieve more, and thus the fans from Trolleborg had to go home without seeing the coveted five hundredth goal. Entering home after a tiring journey by sea, land, air and again by land, which took 51 hours, Vidar felt some annoyance from this, since it was already impossible to get to the stands of the stadium on December 1 for the next match with Ranoria, but also the hope that he would have to wait until the 500th goal not too long. For this, he was willing to give up the opportunity to see event in person.

[Graintfjall]

RP cutoff

RP bonus info

With MD3 similar to MD2, I thought a slightly different look at the data today. On all three days, the mean and median RP bonus has been in the range of 65-70%. Overall, though:

Combining the grading of Græntfjall and Turori for MDs1-3 (1st-6th games). All RPs by the same user in one cutoff window are combined for the purposes of grading. Doesn't include roster RP bonus.

• 104 nations have RPed. I just want to mention how overwhelmingly positive this is. Even allowing for puppets.
• 54 have earned at least 50% of the max RP bonus available for all 3 days combined. (For example, earning the max on day 1, 50% on day 2, and 0 on day 3; or 50% on all 3 days.)
• 18 have earned at least 75% of the max RP bonus available for all three days combined.
• The mean and median RP bonus earned are both almost exactly 50% (of the total available combined).

News from the White Winter Queendom to read while I see pray that my inputs are all correct

• Queen Júlíana back on the golf course days after "routine" back operation.
• Prime Minister takes break from ordering missile strikes: "How about a nice game of chess?"
• Left-slate divided over gun liberalization bill as it clears committee.
• New tax credits announced to spur investment in inner city transit systems.
• Defense Ministry official named in corruption probe fired as Progressive Liberals promise "clean government".

Results

[Audioslavia]

RJ Styrn did feel guilty when it broke, but the over-riding emotion was frustration.

Waking up used to be so peaceful. Open eyes, check phone, get up a full hour later, coffee, shower, toast, clothes, prattle, car keys, and away the day went. These days, sandwiched in the tight space between ‘open eyes’ and ‘check phone’ was the sound of her fucking blood rushing in her fucking ears and whatever yesterday’s ‘ah fuck why did I do that’ moment was.

The act of taking that attractive-yet-tin-yet-attractive dragonfly ornament and breaking it on the cold tiles of her kitchen floor would be tomorrow’s yesterday’s ah-why-the-fuck moment. The current incumbent was the journalist currently showing off his newly minted black eye on twii-tur. The one who’d thrust the front page of the Cathair Herald in her face and been thanked for as such with a the kind of short left hook that the shoulder and hips deal with efficiently while the neanderthal brain distracts the civilised brain for a second.

The front page of the paper had been a CGI’d Styrn kneeling at the front door of retired thirty-fuck international striker Koenraad Rijsbergen with a sign saying ‘please come back’. Styrn had hated it almost as much as the journalist’s question. “Are you worried we’re becoming a bit too much like Ko-oren.

Bloody Ko-oren. A cultural albatross around the Bulls’ neck. The styles of play of both nations had gravitated towards one another but the feeling was that it had been Audioslavian football taking the more steps beyond the central line. Sure, it had gotten the National Team out of the doldrums and into the latter stages of major international tournaments, even some silverware, but what had been left behind?

Two 0-0 draws in a row that preserved a small unbeaten streak would be celebrated as an art piece by Ko-orenite fans, as well as the more hipstery of the Audioslavia faithful, but to the older crowd it was simply four points wasted. Fourth in the table, the Bulls needed to get a grip or else find themselves in a multi-way shitfight for the final qualifying place.

The tin dragonfly had been a gift. Maybe she could fix it, but maybe what she needed to do was hide it away and replace it with a big old bull.

She wondered again about texting Rijsbergen, and decided against it.

[Brenecia]

Brenecia 4 - 2 Arjunnagar
(4-3-3) 20 - Dundalk; 17 - Sidle, 18 - Killen, 6 - Giltanan, 3 - Seeler (22 - Culpepper 67'); 13 - Garrard (23 - Garrett 67'), 4 - Schofield, 11 - Covolan; 15 - Wake, 14 - Tristram, 16 - Leonard
Goals: Covolan 30', Tristram 35', Sidle 54', Wake 90+1'

Eura 1 - 0 Brenecia
(4-3-3) 12 - Tanner; 2 - Bravender, 5 - Shrine, 6 - Giltanan, 3 - Seeler; 8 - Conway (13 - Garrard 81'), 19 - Mikoliunas, 11 - Covolan; 7 - Carpenter (15 - Wake 72'), 21 - Lofthouse (15 - Tristram 72'), 10 - Byrne

Brenecia 4 - 3 Srednjaci
(4-3-3) 12 - Tanner; 2 - Bravender, 5 - Shrine, 6 - Giltanan, 3 - Seeler; 8 - Conway, 19 - Mikoliunas (4 - Schofield 82'), 11 - Covolan (13 - Garrard 67'); 7 - Carpenter, 21 - Lofthouse, 10 - Byrne (15 - Wake 70')
Goals: Byrne 41', Carpenter 49', Lofthouse 55', Garrard 76'

Mertagne 0 - 3 Brenecia
(4-3-3) 12 - Tanner; 17 - Sidle, 5 - Shrine, 6 - Giltanan, 3 - Seeler; 8 - Conway, 4 - Schofield (19 - Mikoliunas 66'), 11 - Covolan; 7 - Carpenter (15 - Wake 72'), 21 - Lofthouse, 10 - Byrne
Goals: Byrne 31', Lofthouse 40', Covolan 64'

Kearney, the Brenecian populist, doing his best to stack the deck.
Klose, the hardened politician from Starling, recovering her career as best she could.
The people, disgruntled, broken, searching for someone to blame.
Yet there was one principal player as yet un-introduced to the scene:

At Harther, we believe in a clear sky and a clean conscience. We want you to feel good about where the pound in the till ends up, so we reassure our customers that Harther stands only for best practices in all fields. Our innovative team of investors ensures that Harther only backs the most worthy projects. Because we really can build a better future, if only you believe hard enough. Because at the Harther Corporation... we're Serious About Futures. Contact our friendly, approachable staff now on this number if you have any questions, concerns or franchising opportunities...

It had been a deal with the devil. A slick, Euran devil, sliding in at the ground level of Brenecia-the-country, allowing it to form around the corporation, until the two were intwined. And of the two, it was not the nation that had the more power to break free.
It had been Harther executives that had arrived in Brenecia, God only knew how long ago, offering promises of prosperity to a reeling country unsure what to do with its own independence. What did little Brenecia have to offer? Gratitude, that anyone was paying attention. And metal, some of which had an ominous glow.
And the men from the sprawling megacorp that was Harther reached out one of its many tendrils, and that was named ...

Got that glow? McClintock will get you what you need. Our world-class team of miners and engineers have been promoted from within the industry for their expertise, and we can bring that hands-on experience to any pit you see fit. All those rough diamonds like coal, uranium, asbestos; don't get your hands dirty. McClintock will strip away what's rotten and get you the goods. McClintock... Grounded In Reality.

It was a speculate-to-accumulate kind of deal. Brenecia's mining industry was under a stranglehold of magnates, rich families who had become absurdly bloated and wealthy sitting on the top unchallenged for so long. But they lacked international connections. Their mines could be improved, their product sold better by a megacorp with far greater connections.
The sensible magnates sold up when the money hit the table, vast overpayment at the time but with confidence the investment would be returned a hundredfold. And they were right. The dumb ones dug in their heels, only to be outmaneuvred and driven to ruin. Only a small handful kept their holdings, or cut deals sure to preserve some of their independence.
And that was the deal. Mining families could keep mining, and as McClintock officials sporadically warned the government, they were only going to keep mining so long as McClintock stayed in the area. So long as, say, many of those Long Marches-era protections were allowed to gradually erode away...
Things did not backslide far. They did not have to. They simply needed to stand still while the rest of the world leapt forward. Like the investors had said; serious about futures. And right now, Brenecia, which thought itself a relatively civilised land, woke up to find it worked longer hours in poorer conditions than most.
There were headlines. But they did not matter. What mattered was an urgent meeting with the Treasurer eight months ago, because McClintock did have the pull to arrange that.
The Treasurer at the time, Mari Cade, was a woman of principle. She had joined the CPP because she believed in a strong state, and when the LDR formed turned her head it had been too late for the veteran politician to defect. She was 30, after all, and set enough in her ways that that felt a bridge too far, even as the ground of the ard regime began to crumble under her feet.
Point was, Cade had pride and purpose. She sat down calm, and McClintock put their case to her. "Let's face it," said the obsequious McClintock man, "there's uranium in so many places. We do love Brenecia, but love alone isn't going to keep us here. And as the situation's grown, uh..."
"Less stable," provided a PR genius off to the side.
"We'll go with that. While the situation grows less stable, our investors - who ultimately we are beholden to - grow more and more anxious about where their money tied up in Rozele is going. I mean, the state of the pound itself... you are the Treasurer. You know it's far from healthy."
"Uh-huh," Cade had said.
The larger man leaned forwards. "My colleague wants to communicate a desire for some more worker protection to be rolled back."
"Nothing big. Just chipping away some of the extraneous armour left over from before independence."
"Uh-huh," Cade had said, and promised to hear them out, and lied, and quit her post two days later. It was the job of a lifetime, but after indignity after indignity, watering down the currency, pumping up the military and royalty as best she could, presiding over a trainwreck... she could not have faced her constitutents if she had let them die.
And yet, by departing the role, she had. For the next Treasurer was a Kearney loyalist, and a complete sycophant. And so, eight months later, as protests reached their fever pitch, a few miners from North Hall who had little truck with politics rocked up to work, vaguely aware the dollar in the pocket seemed not to stretch as far is it had in their early twenties, shrugged, gone off to work...
...then heard a rumbling from above.

It would not take long, after that, for the powdercase to ignite.

BRENECIAN NATIONAL TEAM SELECTION - FORTNIGHT 4
Goalkeepers: 1 - Anthea Finnan (Holdenberg City, EUR), 12 - Sorcha Tanner (Southern Star), 20 - Cairbre Dundalk (North Laithland, NPH)
Defenders: 2 - Clovette Bravender (Ulsa, EUR), 3 - Mynah Seeler (Southern Star), 5 - Athelney Shrine (Southern Star), 6 - Casey Giltanan (Workers Union, EUR), 17 - Felice Lovibond (Kingsgrove), 18 - Iucharba Killen (North Laithland, NPH), 22 - Nimue Culpepper (Rozelle)
Midfielders: 4 - Ronan Schofield (Raynor City United, VAL), 8 - Iseult Conway (Northern Union, c), 11 - Lienke Covolan (Vermillion Rage), 13 - Consaidin Garrard (FK Metropola Borograd, STL), 19 - Kurtis Mikoliunas (Mâ Âlâmëómë, FFD), 23 - Kestutis Garrett (Northern Stallions)
Forwards: 7 - Kendra Carpenter (Wirr Tsi, CMT), 9 - Cantwell Lamorak (Twin Saints), 10 - Katua Byrne (KT Itzalovalle, AUD), 14 - Danand Tristram (Northern Stallions), 15 - Maerhen Wake (1830 Cathair, AUD), 16 - Rhona Leonard (Kingsgrove), 21 - Jadwiga Lofthouse (Northern Union)

[size=75]Brenecia 4 - 0 Kuraita
Natanians and Nosts 0 - 0 Brenecia
Brenecia 4 - 2 Arjunnagar
Eura 1 - 0 Brenecia
Brenecia 4 - 3 Srednjaci
Mertagne 0 - 3 Brenecia
Brenecia vs. Gyatso-kai
Polkopia vs. Brenecia
BYE
Brenecia vs. Maphidon
Omerica vs. Brenecia
Kuraita vs. Brenecia
Brenecia vs. Natanians and Nosts
Arjunnagar vs. Brenecia
Brenecia vs. Eura
Srednjaci vs. Brenecia
Brenecia vs. Mertagne
Gyatso-kai vs. Brenecia
Brenecia vs. Polkopia
BYE
Maphidon vs. Brenecia
Brenecia vs. Omerica

[Ceni]

Wibbly Wobbly, Timey Wimey

Chapter 3: Ende-Dogor's Peregrinations

All hell had broken loose at Jaina Ende-Dogor's briefing for the Cenian national football team on AT7093 returning from Drawkland.

Asher Koromin had fainted, some of the players with more successful club careers had started hyperventilating, some of the players with less successful club careers merely sat there in shock. Everybody wanted to add their voices to the cacophony, seemingly all at once, as it started to sound more like the Cenial Stock Exchange or an auction for a prize steer more than a dignified scientific briefing.

Jaina simply stood there in silence as she waited for the yelling and the screaming to die down. "Ladies and gentlemen," she said firmly but sternly. "I will not continue my explanation unless you settle yourselves."

"This team needs a few more women," she muttered to herself under her breath. Allison Swan caught her eye and smiled. "You know what I mean," she said.

***

Jaina emerged from the director's office at the portal with a frown on her face, and not from the putrefying smell emanating from her body after she seemingly ripped off her hazmat suit. The director seemed almost too reluctant to give any further information to her beyond the raw data that she had downloaded from the main server. In fact, he seemed antsy to get her out of his office. Too antsy.

Did she suspect foul play? No. But he didn't quite cut the figure of a transparent and cooperative figure. Perhaps there was more than met the eye, or perhaps he was just nervous after a major failure in the portal's system and unwilling to have a foreign woman poking around asking questions.

Jaina jetted back to her lab at the University of New Oxford and plugged the data into her computer. She furrowed her brow. The increased baryon counts had come from the portal's equipment itself, probably from the equipment's fail-safes: something had gotten too close, and the portal had tried to protect itself. What had gotten too close?

***

Gradually, desultorily almost, the chaos at the briefing had died down, and Jaina could resume her spiel.

"I'm a physicist," Jaina said, "and so I don't know what this looks like for you physiologically, or mentally even, but I'm certain of what happened on the physics end. And it wasn't pretty."

"The portal did not work as advertised," she continued. "The portal administrators didn't want to hear this, but I told it to them anyway. You absolutely have a cause of action against them in a court of law."

"What happened to the portal afterwards?" asked Luke. "Did they shut it down to allow your investigation?"

"Not as long as I would have liked," said Jaina, with a grimace growing across her face. "I certainly had to race against the clock to make sure it wouldn't happen again. And it almost did happen again."

***

After Jaina noticed the high baryon counts from the portal's proximity alerts, she at least knew where to look for the missing Air Terranea flight. But how, exactly, would she look for it? And what exactly would she see? A directive to "look closer at the portal equipment" made little sense, a cosmological game of Where's Waldo.

Artificial intelligence could help, she suppose. But using AI was easier said than done, and of course she still had to get the raw images from within the portal. In order for AI to make an analysis, it would have to have something to analyze.

Perhaps a friend of hers could help her get the images and evade the bureaucratic stonewalling, she thought. And so she started running towards the other end of the University before Jon-Liam Selwick left for the day. It would be critical that she enlisted his help.

About halfway through her impromptu athletic session, though, she realized she forgot the data to show Jon-Liam.

"Fuck," she said.

***

Luke somehow managed to shepherd the team from Stratosphere City back to Cenial. He assumed the Cenian FA knew about their predicament -- after all, they had been missing for 22 years, right? So he headed straight for their offices to try and figure everything out.

He found everything in shambles, the sign on the door hanging cattywampus, the doorbell buzzing but not beckoning a single body to the door. So he turned to his phone: No service. "Great," he thought to himself. "Of course I'm 22 years behind in phone technology." They hadn't changed substantially, of course, but just enough to knock his old phone out of commission.

Luke found a public library right next door. He logged onto a computer, typed "Cenian FA" into a search engine, and scrolled down, opening new tabs. As he kept scrolling, he kept furiously pressing the scroll wheel. By the time he finished, it seemed like more tabs had popped up than the total number of rabbits that had ever popped out of magicians' hats.

He grew more and more disconcerted as he kept reading. After AT7093 had disappeared, the FA never quite agreed on what to do. A significant faction had wanted to keep going by selecting an entirely new team and coaching staff, while another significant faction had wanted to stop playing in the World Cup in mourning, or at least while the investigation had gone on.

And, as it turned out, that faction had made a few leaks to the international press beforehand claiming that Ceni would stop playing international football, so a few publications had said that Copa Rushmori XXX would be Ceni's "swan song" on the world stage. "Why did this faction want to have Ceni stop playing football?" Luke wondered.

The newspapers didn't have an answer. Or at least the material on the internet didn't have an answer. But the more and more Luke read about the past 22 years, the more and more he suspected some kind of foul play, especially considering that the FA had moved to parts further afield and conveniently hadn't posted their new address online.

But who would have such a major grudge against him and his team?

[Independent Athletes from Quebec]

Avalon

PART 4 - Storms

Two Days Later

It was early in the Tuesday morning when Christine returned to the Royal Archives, two days after the very incident at her friend's place and a day and half after her return to the Palais Royale. Returning to the lives and realities of the Palais, where the guards wore blue and marched in front of the palace to the presence of visiting tourists and bypassing locals, Christine felt the freeze of time back home easier to handle.

As a building located just down the road from the Palace, but still technically on the Crown soil, the Royal Archives was a quiet place that rarely accepted unexpected visitors. The only person who could go around that rule and allow admissions was Dr. Heo Dong-Soo, whose average height was disguised perfectly by his greying hair, sharp gaze and intimidating posture. The Queen knew Dr. Heo, a former professor of hers who shared long history with the late Jacques IX, knew just as much about the royal household or their friends than anybody else actually within the household. While he, who came from decent but not outstanding or luckiest backgrounds, rarely gave out advice to any members, there was no doubt that he, the man of words and practical advice, served a role of his that aided the Crown anytime his service was needed.

'Ma'am.' said Dr. Heo, the presence of the Queen bringing him to a quick raise. Noticing that she had come in an earliest possible time, that being eight in the morning for the Chief of the Archives, he gave a quick neck bow, before remain standing under an unspoken rule for a subject not to sit in front of a monarch. 'Please, have a seat.'

'Will do,' said Christine, as she sat on a wooden chair front of hers, 'Professor, have you been aware of the whole situation with...um...the woman?'

'Can you be more specific, ma'am?' asked Dr. Heo, having difficulty with what the monarch was asking. 'With you this can mean many things. Especially in this day and age with the uncertainties in Concord Heights.'

'It's not about the Seja (世子 - author's note: Korean term for Crown Prince) nor the situations with my sister-in-law (referring to Cassie III of Cassadaigua, the eldest sister of Caspian, Duke of Halifax).'

'Oh.' He uttered, a moment of silence followed. Dr. Heo then resumed, before speaking first. 'Is it over Valletta? or his wife?'

'Yes,' answered Christine, before asking another question. 'Of course, your children have moved out long ago, but were you too aware of how his wife, the musician granddaughter of the Baron Lauzon, and her illness?'

Dr. Heo stopped for a second, before realising that this was something that he had an answer but not one straight to the line. 'I have, by the virtue of my daughter being a fan of hers, and well you know the friendship she has maintained with the Vdaran over the years,' he nodded, lighting a cigar. 'She told me and my son, of course, but neither of us had said anything over it. It is likely le Palais knew about it, but likely had to cut off the command of the information a step or two before it reaches you.'

'Understandable.'

Dr. Heo's Korean, standardised as he spoke, was slowly paced enough to suggest that he wanted to save as many words as possible. Partly to spare a potential fury, but also to keep his face straight. 'Ma'am,' said he, his half-pale hair shining at age 63. 'We all know how it feels to lose a parent so early, and to lose a wife or husband that early too. You and I both miss your late father, who we remember for different reasons.'

'서쪽의 동수, 동쪽의 제임스를 말하시는겁니까? (Are you referring to Dong-Soo of the West, and James of the West?)' asked Christine, remembering the term that had been used by both him and her father in past.

'Very much so,' nodded he, remembering his teenage and early-twenties. 'They used to call us that because I was on the west side of the river at Queen's College, and Prince Jacques served at the RMC, and both of us were sabreurs who were born around same time, only a year apart I'd say.' It was clear that he was having reflections to his earlier self, to the times when all was lost. 'It was his idea that I come back to Joongyeong when my late wife had passed. He explicitly said that I shouldn't spend rest of my life waiting to join Maureen (Turner).'

'I could imagine the level of grief it must have taken for you.' said she.

'No doubt, so that's partly why the words have been kept from you, ma'am.' he said, 'While the prophecies you may have received over the years may be kept to us, and maybe a couple of others, we all risk our own lives to uphold the balance of those we stand for, and would rather not risk it all.' He remembered that there were still two Queen Mothers by technicality, Queen Nathalie her grandmother and Queen Elisabeth (Elizaveta Dolgoruki, to be specific), whose griefs had shaped much of the palace and the castles they had now moved out to. 'And that's what Mr. Lundrigan, your friend and also a former student of mine, would have preferred.'

'And that's understandable,' Christine answered, remained disappointed over the answer. 'It's a good thing the children do not know, and Caspian not believing in it either, in any case. The Queen Mother, of course, always believed in those abilities, and I was lucky enough in said accord.' It was then that she had a realisation as she turned around asked, 'But the sight of that woman....no matter my distaste, was abnormal. Neither dead nor living, but an illness that was killing her slowly and over time. Almost as if it's up to those beyond that of human science. Do the Shingoryeo-Shiloks (The Veritable Records of the Shingoryeoite Dynasty) record such instances?'

'I believe so, ma'am,' Dr. Heo's deep voice rang forth the affirmation, as Christine looked back at him. She always knew that the historian, who had not really let go of the layer of darkness that followed his wife's untimely death sixteen years ago, lifting his voice to a surprisingly rich and rarely-used texture of tenor, was a good thing. 'Of course, this country doesn't run out of bizarre occurrences and the use of magic and other shamanistic talent, like that of yours, come up fairly often on the scribes' records.' he then continued, 'There have been specifically two instances where this had happened in the past century alone.'

'And what would be those cases?' Christine asked, feeling the light flash twice before his eyes.

'The first instance, which occurred in June 1977, involved a wizard,' answered Dr. Heo, trying not to brief too much about the unrelated situation. There once was a time when Dr. Heo and then-Princess Christine were able to have more entertaining conversations involving unusual occurrences of history, but those times have passed following the death of late Jacques IX when she was 21. 'Still fifteen in age, he quickly lost control of his innate abilities and nearly destroyed the high school the night of his prom, before burying himself alive in a matter of Wildhornian-realisation.'

'Poor thing.' That was the least she could say about it.

Dr. Heo watched the cigar fumes slowly rise to the air, before having another puff. 'And the other time, something that I have only found out just two years ago, involved your grandfather. Henri VIII, when he was still a Sesohn (second-in-line to throne, usually child of Crown Prince/Princess), used to travel extensively, and often without entourage. Said he preferred to be on his accords for these trips, no matter his love for Queen Nathalie. This I'm sure she, your grandmother, can confirm.'

'Go on,' Christine said, remembering a line or two had been mentioned about Henri VIII's younger self from her grandmother. Queen Nathalie rarely spoke about her late husband to Christine, and with her usually out on her own country estates, knowing the late monarch, whose late reign was cut short by an accidental cut of pufferfish he had fished and eaten one summer holiday, was left up to others.

'In the year 1987, three of the days' entries were left blanked out by the scribes. It was just marked as "HRH Henri had left the palace to spend three days in a mysterious land north of Pacific named Dǣl. In the original text, it's written as Samgakjoo, but with Joo written as a state or a province (州), instead of a sand island (洲). So a triangle state is what he wrote,' he continued speaking. 'Of course that's an unusual term, and that's what people have spent forty years searching, but to no success - the king had passed too early to finish reading the Annals of the Sylvain IV before him and your father had no intention to go through them under wartime in his first decade of throne, before moving onto other ventures.'

'But you did say that you have found out about this two years ago. There's got to be something that you have found out about the country since then.'

'That is exactly what I'm suggesting, ma'am,' said Dr. Heo, his voice slowing down further. 'It's a land distant from our memories named Delte, out in North Pacific.' he said, fumes now everywhere in the room. 'Of course, It is unlikely a great number of people would remember the late Henri VIII, especially if he had come incognito, but you may have better luck the closer you approach the Garga Marsh.'

'And how do we approach the very Delte?' Christine asked.

'Well you are the one who has the abilities to do so, isn't it?' That's all he said.

[Wreckeria]

From: “The Tales of a Dead Country – The Story of Wreckeria’s World Cup 91 Campaign” by Gord Radcliff

5: Making right what went wrong

“HOLY SHIT! BISCUIT GOT ONE!”

The week after the Juvencus match was interesting to observe. That week was all about covering their bases. They felt they had let their guard down for a second in the Juvencus match, and like any good football team would, Juvencus took advantage of it. The team felt like there were measures they had to take to avoid getting caught out like that again. For people watching, it was an incredibly positive thing to witness. The team realized that the Juvencus match was a lesson to learn, and they were taking strides to learn it. They were pissed off they had dropped points, and they had no one to be pissed off but themselves.

And, to my surprise, Biscuit Gilbert had an intense look on his face during one training session. He glared at me as he sat on the bench, waiting for his time to get back out on the pitch. It was a glare that told me that now was not the time to conduct a conversation. It was also the first time I had seen him glare like that.

“Losing SUCKS, man,” Biscuit says sharply. He was bothered with having dropped points, concerned that it could harm Wreckeria’s hopes at qualifying for the World Cup.

The night before the match with Gadria, Biscuit and Marvin Byrnes joined me in the hotel bar and explained just why the team was so bothered with having lost.

“Y’know, this is a ball team that could surprise EVERYONE, not just you or me or your brother,” Biscuit said. “A loss like that, to Juvencus, that just set us back. We need to show th’world that we down but we sure’s shit ain’t out.”

“The Juvencus loss was a setback,” Marvin said. “But it wasn’t a surprise. They’re a damn good football team and they were one of those teams that we figured would give us the biggest fits. Hell, I remember telling you that that morning, Juvencus, Starblaydia, Turori, our biggest concerns. And sadly I was proven right. Juvencus is a damn good ball team, but like what Biscuit said, we need to show everyone that we’re down but not out. We’ve got to break out in a big way.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

Marvin looks at his drink, looks out at the rest of the bar to see if anyone’s hearing, and comes in real close to tell me something interesting.

“We’re going to run up the score on Gadria,” Marvin said with an unusual intensity. “We’re going to show them no mercy and we’re going to beat them into the ground. Let me tell you something. After a tough loss, you can do one of two things. You can say to the world that yeah, we’re beaten. We got our asses kicked and we’re going to sit in the corner and lick our wounds. And yeah, Juvencus did kick our asses. Or, we go out in the next match and show to the world that we’re not going to let that shit happen again. The Wreckeria of old? Yeah, we might have let that happen. But now? Fuck that shit. We’re going to go out there, we’re going to make an example out of Gadria and we’re going to kick their asses. We’re going to come out, we’re going to destroy them and show the world that Wreckeria just isn’t going to go quietly into that good night. We are here and god damn it, we ARE here to stay!”

Marvin Byrnes is a man of conviction. He knew what he was talking about and he knew exactly what he wanted to do. Maybe if he coached another team that had a more solid future about them, a team that had less concerns over what their future looked like because their country, you know, existed, then maybe he wouldn’t be so concerned about coming back after a loss. And maybe in years past, such a loss wouldn’t have bothered him.

But he was the head coach of a national team representing a nation that didn’t exist anymore. The Independent Wreckerian Athletes, as they were officially known, were essentially Hapilopper’s second national football team. Whether imagined or truthfully, Marvin felt like he and his team was under a bigger microscope than anyone else – should Wreckeria have a right to field a team? Should they really be doing this? So maybe that’s why he was taking every loss deeply, even though he had said to both myself and to other members of the media that he figured a team like Juvencus was going to be a tough challenge for them.

And the next day, in front of over 66,000 at Unification Stadium, the Wreckerians did exactly what Marvin told me he’d do. The Wreckerians went out there with the mindset to score early and score often on the poor souls from Gadria.

The poor Gadrians had done nothing wrong. They hadn’t offended anyone. They hadn’t gotten on anyone’s bad side, and the Wreckerians had nothing against them. It was just that… they were next in line. They were the next opponents after Juvencus, and they had the bad fortune of facing a very pissed-off Wreckerian team. It was nothing personal. It was all business, and the Wreckerians wanted to go out and prove to the world that they weren’t going to let a loss get them down.

But… holy shit. I knew Marvin was dead serious when he talked about running up the score, but I didn’t realize he was that serious. Gordon Sheppard bought into the concept of running up the score and scored two goals in the first five minutes of the match. So did David Marlin, who scored a goal of his own in the 10th minute. Sig Justice got one in the 19th. And Biscuit Gilbert, the big fat lug, got one of his own in the 29th minute.

I’ve never heard a place so loud after Biscuit got his goal. The fans at Unification Stadium practically sent the place shaking with delight when he got his goal – hell, even people in the press box were cheering with the idea of a 300-pound man putting one past a goalkeeper and into the back of the net.

The cries of “HOLY SHIT! BISCUIT GOT ONE!” rang out in the press box from surprised reporters who couldn’t believe what they were seeing. A 300-pound man, who looked more at home in the line at the all-you-can-eat buffets that dot the Hapiloppian landscape, or in the hot dog eating contests that he had competed in, had just scored a goal in a World Cup qualifier. And if nothing else, it was a sign that Wreckeria had horribly outclassed their opponent. It was a damn mismatch.

And the final score, 8-2, didn’t necessarily indicate how much better Wreckeria was on this night. A number of players were subbed off, and it seemed like the Wreckerians let off the gas near the end of the match. The match had been won, and Wreckeria wasn’t too bothered anymore. The point had been made. They had been down but they sure in the hell weren’t out.

Starblaydia

Following the next match, where Wreckeria beat the Forbidden Territories 3-1, the Wreckerians stopped for a moment and took notice. Their next opponent was Starblaydia. For any other top-flight opponent, it wouldn’t have meant much other than a reason to train harder and dread the upcoming match. But Marvin Byrnes was historically minded. And as he and I spoke inside his ratty-ass office in a ratty-ass part of town, Marvin thought deeply about the match to come.

“You know, Wreckeria played Starblaydia 61 years ago,” Marvin said with a hint of reverence in his voice. “Wreckeria got its ass kicked by Starblaydia 61 years ago, but Wreckeria played Starblaydia 61 years ago.”

Marvin thought about it for a long time, emotions running haywire as he thought about the stories he had heard of that night, 61 years ago, when Starblaydia had its way with Wreckeria.

“They were the best in the world,” Marvin said. “For the Wreckerians, it was the greatest night of their lives, getting to take on the best team in the multiverse, and to Starblaydia… it was another Saturday. Wreckeria was without a rudder, they was without a purpose. The war had just begun, their star player had just been taken by the True Wreckerians, and they had no hope in hell. Meanwhile, Starblaydia made it to the Finals of the 30th World Cup.”

That star player was a man named Drake Stevenson, the grandfather of the NSSCRA driver, the grandfather of a man he never knew. It’s been said that if Drake Stevenson the first hadn’t been abducted by the True Wreckerians, if the civil war hadn’t happened, if President John Adler hadn’t been shot by a man radicalized by the True Wreckerians, things would be different. Wreckeria would have become a power in international football, possibly, and Hapilopper, not far behind, might have followed suit. Maybe Wreckeria might have been a top side by the time of World Cup 40. A winner by World Cup 45.

But as it stood, that wasn’t the case, and Wreckeria has remained haunted by those tragic events from 61 years ago.

Anyone that has watched the film of the last Wreckeria-Starblaydia match – and good luck doing so, because that film looks like it’s on the verge of breaking or melting down at any second – could see just how directionless the Wreckerians were, and how much of a unit the Starbladyi was on that evening and in that period of time. Everyone could see how the Wreckerians were just plain outclassed.

Marvin thought about it for a long time, and then looked at me with a deadly serious look.

“You know something, Radcliff?” he tells me. “I think we can beat them. I think we can beat Starblaydia. We’re the best we’ve ever been. We’re third in the group. Starblaydia is having trouble. They’ve got a new head coach. They failed to qualify last year. This team showed me something in the last two matches… if they put their minds to it, if they truly believe they can do something, god damn it, they’re going to do it.”

This isn’t drunken bravado. This is serious faith. Marvin Byrnes is certain of how good this team is.

“Wreckeria has never been this good,” Marvin says. “We’ve got the chance of a lifetime to show the world that we ARE for real, and what better way to do it than to beat fucking Starblaydia? I mean, could you imagine the boost it would give Wreckerians if we actually… fucking, BEAT those guys?”

Marvin had an epiphany that day as he sat in his old office. The Starblaydi team from World Cup 30 is not the Starblaydi team from World Cup 91. But the Wreckerians from World Cup 30 is hardly the Wreckerian team from World Cup 91. The Wreckerians of World Cup 91 have a purpose, a rudder, a leader, a strong desire, more than anything else, to show the world that they can beat the best in the world.

“We’re more motivated than we’ve ever been,” Marvin says, as a tear runs down his eye. “If we don’t beat Starblaydia now, we’ll beat them in the future. We’ll make it to the World Cup. We’ll dedicate it to those folks we lost in the Civil War. We’ll dedicate it to Drake Stevenson the elder. We’ll dedicate it to all those folks from that World Cup 30 squad that never got the chance they deserved. God damn it, we’re going to make it.”

[Huayramarca]

Public Servant

Part 1
Part 2

---

Part 3 - Rise to Shine.

Palacio del Altiplano, Huayramarca D.M. June 2^nd, 1985

Diamonds, when prepared to be put into exhibition, are often put to polishing and several processes that led to increase their value and appreciation; even from the most critic eyes. Marta Mamani had been, during the last years, a quite controversial figure for Huayramarcans, there wasn’t a way to be neutral with her, either hate her or love her due to her principles when it comes to politics. Integrous, responsible and sincere, a person that quenched Hugo Mina with success by uploading complaints from spokespersons and even uploading audios from them to social media, a woman capable to confront abusive authorities to the point of grabbing an AK-47 and shooting them in the middle of a square after beating her son. Proud woman, empowered, valiant and a role-icon for the feminist movement in Huayramarca.

She’s by many standards a citizen that was fed up of corruption and decided to vent it up during her time as a Vice-President, notorious examples such as the time a Québécois mining company from Iqaluit tried to bribe her to let them extract diamonds and gold from a National Protected Area in the skirts of Mount Illimani, something she managed to evidence with audios and videos from hidden cameras that led to the expropriation of the mining company. In the halls, politicians dub her “Iron Lady” or “Ms. Integrity”, people mostly love her due to her attitudes against corruption and how she has supported women in their struggle to reach equality with men in Huayramarca, a point she has marked as a priority when the oath is taken.

After defeating the Popular Party, spearhead of the now defunct Armando Jamarara (killed in an apparent road rage), Mamani has achieved something that seemed unlikely to happen in a country such as Huayramarca, deemed by many as archaic in terms of how many people mistreats women. Reality is now set to change, perhaps, but obstacles will be faced from the very first day in her politic agenda.

“Please put your right hand over the Constitution.” “Now, repeat after me.” Marta was looking overwhelmed to the main plaza of the Huayramarcan Metropolitan District, conveniently located outside of the Palacio del Altiplano, the traditional house for the President. “I, Marta Mamani Oquendo, swear to protect Huayramarca’s institutions and people by abiding to the words put in the National Constitution. If I comply, let people reward me; otherwise, let people use their consecrated right to oust me.” Marta took the oath, Armando Buendía was handing over her the Presidential Band, a symbol of power used in Huayramarcan politics.” Her son, Juanito, was clapping from joy and crying, he’s now 16 years old and is well aware of the importance of this activity, despite of his clothing (as he hates formal attires), Martha goes with him and says “We did it, Juanito, we did it!”

As she sat, the 200 newly-elected MPs were sworn to comply and protect the Huayramarcan Constitution, in the same way Marta did a couple of minutes ago. She took some time in order to relax and then proceed with a speech, Juanito supported her with a hug and both walked towards the podium, he will be close to her mom to provide her support and bolster her mood in an important moment for her life and, of course, for Huayramarca.

“Have a good day, dear Huayramarcans.” “Yes, we all are Huayramarcans, without any kind of divisions between ourselves, without regards of the region we could’ve been born or living through our lives. Augusto and I have fought, and will continue to fight, for equal opportunity and rights for every single Huayramarcan, past are the days where we were identified as a Costeño, Serrano, Selvático or Isleño, we all are Huayramarcans under the same sun and flag. [i}Ñucanchi Ñan[/i], our path towards reconciliation and progress will continue and be bolstered in order to provide everybody what they need to fulfill their dreams and be connected with our neighbours across Anaia and the Multiverse.”

“I wouldn’t have imagined myself, even in the wildest dreams I’ve ever had, the opportunity to be here, but it was something that we carved on trough time by my integrity and confidence you put on me as person and politician. Back in 1979, where this adventure began after denouncing some spokespersons who badly spoke about my people in Sopocachi, I’ve learned that we must strive to a society where everybody should be respected no matter their economy resources, education, birthplace, etc. but also learned to forgive those who, in the past, weren’t aware of how they harmed me or others. As a principle, I invite Fernando and Bernardo to come here.”

Suddenly, two black-cladded individuals walked towards the podium, Marta continued her speech “I apologise for putting you to risk in that moment.” The two men said “We also apologise for insulting you and the people of Sopocachi, hate and classism had us blinded in that time. Time has made us learn that we must respect each other, no matter the differences we might have.” The Palacio erupted in cheers and applauses after both sides forgave each other and settled differences apart. “This is part of my first act as a president, I’ll be consequent with my principles and I have extended Presidential Pardons towards government officials in the Mina era only if they hadn’t committed, as proven by the Peace Commission, any kind of crime against humanity or led to massacres or genocides.” People once again applauded at the announcement, although some others who were pushing for an amnesty booed.

“Another thing that life has teach me is that you can’t have it all, and there are crimes that must be paid by the scale of the damage made against people, no matter their side, crime against humanity is a serious issue that must be punished in the most heavily-handed way possible.” Martha continued “Justice will be important, that’s why I’m glad to announce that we will be introducing a law to punish corruption with heavy consequences, such as civil death in the most extreme cases, or simply banning people from participating into politics for a certain period of time. Of course, guarantees of fair trial must always be provided in order to achieve this to happen, that means: investigation, proofs, etc. And also, a scheme designed to compensate people in case they opt to collaborate with us in this kind of situations.”

As things were heating up a bit, considering the precedents of people in the hall, some pale faces were observable among the presents, but soon alleviated by the next part of the speech “This practice won’t be retroactive, but we will commence right now and we will be tough with its application, as Huayramarcans deserve to be decently represented by us.” People were now calmed at the hall, as Marta was approaching to the end of her speech.

“This will help us to jumpstart some activities that we, as Huayramarcan Government, must act quickly in order to alleviate some past debts with the people and help the nation to get into the broad Anaian community as a playmaker, not as a single spectator.” Then, sliding up a joke “If we will play, we will create chances as Ian Mamani does with The Condors” people jiggled and applauded when the reference was said “Hence, we will promote some bills to the Legislative Assembly in order to let those proposals be debated and perfectioned in the meantime, with the input we could receive from the benches.” Then, about to finish “¡Viva Huayramarca Libre!” was her shout, then “We will wake up, as a nation, because the people has signaled it!”

The Palacio, once again, applauded Marta, who decided to take a rest before speaking in front of a crowd at her native Sopocachi. Juanito said “Mommy, you’ll make us proud?” Marta broke up in tears and said “Of course, Juanito, we have fought for this and I won’t disappoint you nor anybody who trusted me to be here.” They decided to sleep, as it was noon and the meeting got scheduled for 4:00 p.m.

Marta slept profoundly, she had chance to see another Túpac Amaru vision once again saying “Martha, you’ve made me proud! Dignity, resilience and high moral standards. I reckon now that the moment I met you, six years ago, was worthy to have happened, as you’ve learned the lessons I told you, you’ve grown up as a person, in morality and sense of justice towards the people of Huayramarca.” Marta said “Thank you, Túpac, I won’t disappoint anybody.” Then he replied “Be aware that you just finished the easiest steps, now you’re on power and will be held accountable as you’re bearing a massive responsibility under your shoulders.” Marta kept viewing Amaru, he continued “Be strong, keep your dignity and don’t let anybody corrupt you. If you fail to do so, people, and even your son, will feel betrayed and disappointed of you, it’ll be a cross you’ll be charging during your whole life.” Marta said “I won’t let that happen” Amaru replied “You better act like that, if not, death will be your punishment.”

Marta woke up deeply surprised after having, once again, a dream featuring Túpac Amaru, but in a shorter and more threatening way… She stepped back and went to drink water, it was 2:45 p.m. Just in time to go to Sopocachi “Integrity or death for me, that’s quite a threat and a warning for me…” Then she said “I want to be here and see Juanito grow more and more, to see his family and sons or whichever good path he decides to take. Also, I don’t want to disappoint anybody as it’d be a traumatic situation for me.” Marta reflected and that dream helped her to continue her high ethical standard for the time being, as the threat was done and there’s no way to run from something that, in a quite perturbing yet effective way, managed to get into her head and haunted her in case she considered to have committed “a mistake”.

She went to Sopocachi with her son, but not with an escort as other presidents used to do, she decided to ask for a friend to transport them and be the official chauffeur of the President during her mandate, a Maipú Alpaca 1500 powered by 300 llamathust (Equivalent to 300 HP) arrived to the Sopocachi Centre Plaza, Marta got out of the truck and lifted her fist, punching the air, and telling Juanito “I told you, we would return here victorious!” As the people cheered Marta, their newly-elected president and a Sopocachi-native returning to home proudly victorious.

[Oberour Ar Moro]

From: Bénigne Cixous
To: Lorete de Vry
Subject: Typo

Lorete,

I saw your d'Amienz press release. I hope I'm not the first person to call this error to your attention:

Mercury Sports Announces Signing of Félix d'Amienz

Oberour Ar Moro sports company Mercury Sports announced the signing of Félix d'Amienz, an Oberour National Team player with Brookstation's Other Side of Paradise to a long-term deal. This partnership is a major move for Mercury Sports, as they take a step in athlete sponsorship outside the Dominion for the first time.

Félix d'Amienz starred in the Dominion's Renard League with Peristephanon University before signing with Other Side of Paradise. Since joining the Brook club, he has led them to an all-time best performance in the Brookstation Twin Premier League. His domestic performances, and now his international performances during World Cup 91 qualification, mark him down as a talent not just for the future, but today.

"Felix has a remarkable first touch, with an incredible sense of timing when the attack is coming while holding and protecting possession. It is a sui generis skill set you rarely see on the pitch," said Claudes de Betencourt, Director of Sports Marketing for Mercury. "The journey Felix has taken from Oberour Ar Moro to the world is a model not just for Oberour football players, but in its own way for Mercury Sports.

A unique player such as d'Amienz requires a unique boot, and Félix will become the face of the Mercury Resonance 6 soccer cleat, with his own unique model. And this won't just be in Oberour Ar Moro, but in Brookstation as well. This marks the first time Mercury Sports has featured an athlete in a foreign market.

"It's an honor to join Mercury Sports," said Félix d'Amienz. "I remember how thrilled I was to buy my first pair of Mercury Vector 11 when I was a child in Reugeu. I've always known Mercury Sports has innovative and high-caliber products. And I'm thrilled to be able to share the Mercury Resonance 6 with not just Oberour Ar Moro, but Brookstation, and the world at large."

Reugeu? How did you even manage to misspell that? And they put it on the website? Oberour Ar Moro will have your head for misspelling the capital. You better detlat that while you still can!

See what I did there?

Bénigne Cixous

Information Technology
Mercury Sports
Office Number: 31 39 97 756, ext. 8109

---

From: Mail Delivery Subsystem
To:
Subject: Undeliverable

The original message has permanent fatal errors
(reason: exch1094-3.42.45 Summit Senseless Bridges Is Doors Than Have Its)

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[Vdara]

beans

[South Jeolerina]

Riots continue in south-western part of North Handoria against government rule
As reported by Handorian Evening Standard
Mondown City - More citizens have came out to protest calling for democratic elections in the country, ahead of the annual Leaders' Conference where the ruling government will come together to discuss policy directions for the upcoming year ahead.

The protests have largely came from the south-western part of the nation, in the region of Wokean, with many people going onto the streets of Jandori, the second-largest city in North Handoria by population size, to call on the government to be more democratic. "The people must be ruled by the people, not by a dictatorship" goes one banner. Other protesters have gone onto social media with the hashtag "#notmyPresident", saying how they wanted more freedom and voice in the decisions of the country.

One of the protest leaders, who refused to be named, told the Standard that they want rights similar to neighbours South Jeolerina and Hallikshire. "We don't need direct democracy. Just give us proper democracy and allow us to voice our opinions in government," said the leader. He pointed out that under North Handoria's laws, the protest could easily be shut down if the government deems it as "disrupting the peace and harmony of the country". "Laws are clearly vague and meant to give the President and his minions power to shut off alternative voices. That is literally oppression of the people."

In South Jeolerina, people are largely supportive of the democratic movement that has risen out of Wokean. Many Jeoleris would remember the history of the split, where both countries chose to split due to disagreements over issues ranging from economy management to leadership methods. For instance, economic wise, North Handoria has largely gone down the agriculture and technology route, while South Jeolerina has preferred to go for the entreport trade and tourism as means of gathering income.

The South Jeolerinan government has refused to take sides on the event. Instead, the press office has issued a statement calling on both parties to sit down and have peaceful negotiations, and warns against the use of violence.

[Turori]

Today's Cutoff is brought to you by: twii.tur

twii.tur is a short message communication service based in Turori allowing users to exchange content of 140 characters or less. The service originated as a way to allow officials to receive alerts and key information such as incoming weather notifications, major events and the ability to stay coordinated during a time of crisis but was under-utilized and doubts were raised as to whether the overhead of the infrastructure was worthwhile to maintain.. The latest new feature added to the twii.tur service is the strings feature which is activated using the squiggly function. It is marketing season once again at twii.tur and the Information sharing service is expected to be announcing new partnerships with the NSSCRA Team Tropicorp organization as well as some minor sponsorship opportunities with other athletes throughout events such as the AOCAR where twii.tur is the official sponsor of the ongoing twii.tur Playoff shootout in the AOCAR Stock Car Series. twii.tur also maintains personal services contracts with a number of athletes throughout the Vilitan Cove. One such athlete is Turorian youngster Tsinuzpa Rana’aiao. The Eelandii Academy Prospect has made just one appearance for the Turori national Team and is not expected to make any formal appearances for Turori during World Cup 90. Despite this, many see Rana'aiao as a future star for the Turori National Team and exactly the type of relationship that twii.tur is looking to build with an up-and-coming spokesperson who shares their love and commitment to the sport and can communicate it in a way that the existing user base of twii.tur could associate with.

In addition to their coverage of sport as a core business area, twii.tur often has a physical presence at sporting events with displays such as photo booths where fans can pretend to be a World Class Footsport player or strap in behind the wheel of a World Grand Prix racing machine and twii.tur representatives instantly post the image to the users twii.tur account. twii.tur will hope to have Social booths at the majority of events at the XV Olympic Games with each official facility and fanzone having a photo booth to transform fans into the action of whichever event was being contested at that venue. At select locations guests may also have the opportunity to spin a prize wheel to earn special edition collectibles from the Olympic Games including Sunglasses, Socks, Pens and communication device grippers emblazoned with the Twii.tur and Olympic Logos.

[Delte]

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Cassadaigua 4-2 Delte
Player-Reporter Kim Samrodd in Concord Heights, Cassadaigua for the Sheeps & Cows & Salmons & Trouts Farmers Bulletins

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It was a long way to go for a football match, and I have to say to score a couple of goals against the once and future champions of the world, in coach Enda Clentin’s pre-match assessment, feels like quite an achievement even if we could and probably should have been beaten by more than we were. Crikey but they are good, these Fillies. Irki Mynster probably doesn’t get enough credit up front for us, what with Tai Cerotha usually grabbing the goals and the attention, but on a day when we were permanently on the back foot, it was good to know there was someone up there you could hoof it to who might hold it up for a few seconds while everyone else caught their breath. Irki does that for us, usually a thankless task, but today under the direction of coach Clentin we did thank him afterward with a polite round of applause.

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Delte 0-2 Electrum
Sports Correspondent Polka Lunn in Oswark for the Sullenden Morning Bugle

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I won't dwell overly long on the finer details of this match, but certainly mention should be made of the woodwork. Made from traditional Deltic hard lumber cut in the nearby Nalga Forest, they had to stand up to a severe beating as Renshaw and the inveterate cheating Seb peppered the posts and crossbars throughout the match, with an audience of over 1,000 home fans submitting to an hysteria of laughing as each goal attempt invariably ended up thudding off the Nalga Pines. How did this match finish only 0-2? Even the referee wondered, coming up with a tape measure at half time to make sure the uprights were regulation dimension 4-by-4. When they were satisfied, the video assistant referee asked for a zoom in to close-up, assuming the ref had made a clear and obvious error in their measurements. Not a bit of it.

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VISIT DELTE
A Guide For Adventurers & Reluctant Football Teams

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Food & Drink: Craft ales and surprisingly gourmet pub lunches are the order of the day in Oswark, and it’s an open secret that dining in the town is generally better than one might expect. Start with ‘breakfast at the Bert’ - that’s the Prince Tyrbert Hotel, with it’s restaurant open to non-residents for an excellent all-day breakfast; picnic lunch on the Oswark Castle grounds from Polly Lawdraw’s Takeout; grab a half time Mustardy pie and mash at Ildemorton Road during the football; fuel up for the evening with dinner at the Duke’s Head; and after a heavy session, finish with a ‘gargoyle wrap’ - that’s battered gargoyle salmon and deep-fried parsnips with vinegar wrapped up in yesteday’s Oswark Parish Advertiser. And to drink? Well, thanks to the clear spring waters of the uplands and nearly two hundred years of industrial brewing expertise, there is no better place to find just the right ale for your tastes - all the pubs in town carry an extensive range, with highly qualified bar stewards who have personally sampled every tap, regularly, several times, just to help select the right brew for you.

Local Customs & Etiquette: The people of the Delte Valley are a forgiving bunch, but being committed stoics would much prefer visitors to keep their emotions in check, remain moderately friendly without being overly familiar, and refrain from touching without invitation wherever possible.

There has been a rich history of skirmishes and sieges in the valley down the centuries, but in modern times the Delts love a bit of peace and quiet, so football hooliganism is not a thing they have experience of in the Delte Valley Tuesday Evening & Sunday Lunchtime Super League. That is not to say they are ill-prepared for any visiting fans coming to the valley for a ruckus. The River Patrol - which is the local arm of law and order - have recruited a few extra fellows for match days and The Volunteer Reservists have been practising bottling and kettling techniques for the last month just in case. A stretch in the Auld Triangle gaol and forced deportation on a compost-carrying container ship awaits anyone arrested for anti-social behaviour, so please don’t land yourself in the muck by messing about with your fists and your foreheads. Good manners are well rewarded with a pleasant stay.

UP NEXT in our serialised visitor guide: Out and about in the town - enjoy a little culture at the town museum or head down to the brewery for a tour and memorable taster session.

[Tumbra]

Sajnur 1-3 Tumbra

TMB (4-2-3-1): 1 - Barker; 2 - Hughes, 4 - Kerr (5 - Henderson, 66'), 14 - Ashburn, 3 - Harris (19 - Carter, 77'); 6 - Harrison, 15 - McGrath, 23 - Monaghan; 17 - Wells, 9 - Vaughn (29 - Silverwood, 85'); 11 - Riordan

TMB scorers: Susan Monaghan (23'), Robin Vaughn (34', 66')

Player of the Match: Robin Vaughn (TMB)

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Tumbra 3-1 Ceni

TMB (4-2-3-1): 24 - Jones; 2 - Hughes (18 - Moss, 74'), 5 - Henderson, 14 - Ashburn (26 - Perry, 81'), 19 - Carter; 6 - Harrison, 16 - Fisher, 23 - Monaghan; 7 - Hilton, 9 - Vaughn; 33 - Nolan (11 - Riordan, 85')

TMB scorers: Andrew Fisher (6'), George Hilton (29'), Robin Vaughn (77')

Player of the Match: Andrew Fisher (TMB)

Straton

"Good morning, everyone," muttered the disheveled looking man as he strode into the red-walled room. "Why don't we all have a seat, then we'll begin. What've we got today?" The room seemingly perked to attention, then calmed down when they realised that the man wasn't the Prime Minister.

The Federal Prime Ministerial Offices in Straton, rumours said, never slept. Even at three in the morning you would see staffers entering and leaving the premises, eager to pick up a coffee and a sandwich before returning to finish up a paper or two. Cafes and eateries in the vicinity made a killing; several had turned to 24-hour businesses just to serve the steady stream of people that would work throughout the clock, keeping the country going.

This man had woken up at five and gotten here at seven just to co-ordinate everything. Of course, he'd grabbed a bagel and a coffee — milk, two sugars — before arriving, just to get his head in order. He was tempted to stay over in the Office just so he wouldn't miss out on the deluge of morning news, but he had to go home. His wife, after all, had cooked some curry; and was vaguely threatening to murder him if he didn't come home and eat it. So an early morning it was, here to co-ordinate the Prime Minister's daily briefing. He sat down, bleary-eyed, and rubbed his chin — hm, there was a spot he hadn't gotten earlier — and took a long sip. "Joanna?"

"Well, Arnold, we've got domestic — that's economic, on the Central Bank's plan to raise the interest rate, and political, because there's that by-election today in Henworth. And the Northlands —"

"What's polling looking like?"

One look at Joanna's frown told Arnold everything he needed to know.

"How bad?"

"Well, seat-by-seat polling's never accurate, but there's been eight polls throughout this campaign. and we've been behind in all of them, Closest we'd got was nine points back. Voters like the candidate we've got; they just don't like —"

"Yeah, I get it." Arnold rubbed his eyebrows with his thumb and index finger. "Can we spin it? To him, at least?"

"Not likely."

"Go back to that economic news. How much?"

"Nought point five."

"What's the current interest rate?"

"Three."

"Are they fucking mental? Are they actively trying to fuck us over now, with less than twelve months to a federal election?"

"They've run the numbers."

"They want Stephen Williams here, more like. They run it past Colin Green yet?"

"Finance has given the okay to the move. Say it should have been higher. Spending's been out of control for a long time now, and the Northlands have only made a bigger drain."

"Pah. Anyway, Northlands."

"The NCSB have uncovered a plot to bomb the town hall of Blackthorn. Say the info might be reputable, but Internal Security have looked into it and said there's a low chance it'll happen."

"Can't help to try a bit on this. Lead with that. Push him towards pushing Internal Security into doing something. Interest rates second, try to bury the polling news. Knowing him, though, he'll lead off with that. Looks at the polls a bit too much for his own good, I reckon. Right. That's all for Domestic?"

"Stadium debate's happening tomorrow —"

"The angle we're taking is national pride; you can't put a price on that. Remind him of that. Right. Foreign. Adam, start with Esportiva."

The staffer called Adam, who'd been standing uncomfortably near the edge of the room, holding a giant blue ring file, opened it to a nondescript page and began scanning through the pages. "Brenecia's undergoing a recession right now; their move to try and stave off the rising unemployment and make up for the shortfall in their budget is to print more money. Also riots. Resignation of their Treasurer."

"That's going to end well. Never liked that Kearney fella. Any of ours getting singed?"

"Ashburn's got his name on the national team, funny that, but not too much. Eura's already all over them."

"Throw off the shackles of one colonial master, welcome another into the frame...rich, I know, considering what we're doing; but tomato, tomato. Anything else?"

"Not much. Licentians have sent another letter of protest, but otherwise nothing."

"Hm. Rushmore."

"Rushmore...Xinhua. There's a presidential election there soon; the ruling party's split on who to nominate. It's between the current President's Foreign Minister and an establishment candidate. The election's quite likely to be fought on foreign policy; if the ruling party does nominate the conservative there's a nonzero chance President Ma splits from the party. To how much, we don't know; but he'll be seeing this as a referendum on his legacy. After all, under him..."

"...yeah, they pivoted away from us and towards Rushmore." Another sip. "What else?"

"Graentfjall have stopped bombing Jabal Akhdar, so there's a bit of peace in that bit of the world for a brief moment. Nyowani Kitara's having an election soon, and a Yue cabinet minister's been arrested."

"Anything affecting us directly?"

"No."

"Good. Oceania?"

"Not much there, either."

"Anaia?"

"This'll be interesting. Kotzellach are strengthening their already-strong banking secrecy laws. This may affect figures of interest in Tumbra; after all, some people are very deep in that banking system."

"How are they strengthening them?"

"Well, there'll be increased penalties on whistleblowers; and apparently they're about to repeal a restriction on numbered bank accounts. Something about narrowing the amount of circumstances in which banks legally have to hand over client info. So..."

"So it'll be even harder to try and find out how much money Ashburn, Harrison and so on have overseas. That's good news. Have we talked to them?"

"No."

"Well, are we going to even try?"

"You know what they're like with their banking secrecy laws. It's their main moneymaker, it is, alongside their whole trade shtick. Northeast Anaia's a prosperous place to be in. What with those thirty-eight billion Starblaydis right to the south of them. We've got as much a chance as —"

"I get it. That's all?"

"Yep."

"Depressing, really, isn't it? State of the world. And we're contributing to that." Another sip. Nobody dared to say anything. "Was never comfortable with them going in on it. We'll be out of power for a generation if this blows up in our face, I said. Kick the can down the road, let the Libs be the bad guys. And now we're in there. All the signs of a quagmire. Civil service kept thrusting it in our faces. Northlands'll be easy, they said; nobody gives a shit. Look where we are now. Massive hole in the budget. Inflation up the arse. Not a single drop of that fabled oil revenue." The words lingered, hung over the assembled crowd of staffers; nobody knew how to respond. Nobody wanted to.

Arnold glanced at his watch. "Alright. Be back in fifteen. So start with the town hall thing, try and play down the polling, then move through the regions. Nothing too much, then remind him about the stadium debate. That's all. Good day."

The crowd filed out of the room.

Twenty Minutes Later

The same crowd of staffers was back; except this time Arnold was amongst them. A slightly more clean-shaven man walked into the red-walled room; everyone stood as he arrived, but a single wave of the hand told them to all sit down.

"Good morning." A smile was on the Prime Minister's face. "Nice to see everyone here. Let's begin, shall we? How does the Henworth by-election look?"

TUMBRA SQUAD FOR MD9 AND MD10: @ ADAB and vs. ESHIALAND
Goalkeepers: 1 - Nick Barker (FC Inter Nantwich), 12 - Andrew Taylor (Couno Rangers), 24 - Victoria Jones (Gallant Cross, BRE)
Defenders: 2 - Ryan Hughes (Lakewood City), 3 - Nigel Harris (Lakewood United) 4 - Stephen Kerr (Chromatik, CMT), 5 - Harry Henderson (Aleuisia Capital, ZRH), 14 - Ian Ashburn (Lakewood City), 18 - Nicholas Moss (Miruan City), 19 - Chris Carter (Lakewood City), 20 - Douglas Moore (Lakewood United), 32 - Louis Paterson (Lakewood City)
Midfielders: 6 - Trudy Harrison (Chromatik, CMT), 8 - Vincent Hicks (FK Metropola Borograd, STL), 10 - Phil Cole (Osarese Marcadia, AUD), 15 - Craig McGrath (Serrapince FC), 16 - Andrew Fisher (FC Inter Nantwich), 23 - Susan Monaghan (Northern Stallions, BRE)
Wingers: 7 - George Hilton (Serrapince FC), 9 - Robin Vaughn (Lakewood City), 17 - Valerie Wells (Swanguard Athletic, QUE), 21 - Lynne Crossley (Strathcona Intl's, KSK)
Strikers: 11 - Nick Riordan (Sabrefell Moths, NPH), 33 - Bruce Nolan (Couno Rangers)

[Baggieland]

[Gnejs]

Intermission - Cooking with Georg Heraklit

Comrades, we briefly interrupt this broadcast from the WC91-qualifications with a few choice words from our broadcasting partner.

”Hey there dudes and dudettes, I’m Georg Heraklit. You know what I like to do to wind down after I win the Electrum Slam? I cook awesome meals. That’s right. Now, I don’t always cook with chicken, but when I do, I always use chicken from Valhall Free-Range Chicken. Why? Because it’s the best.

Today I’m gonna cook you a bitching chicken korma to go with those qualification games; Go Dandelions! So, let’s get to it. Apart from chicken, you’ll need a few other things. Grab some cashews, onions, garlic and a bit of ginger and toss it all in your mixer. I say a bit, but don’t skimp on the ginger, because that’ll give a great zing. You ground on those guys until they’re all pasty, but don’t worry if there’s a few chunks in there. When you’ve got that done, that’s a good time to get out some nice broth and coconut cream. We’re not using them yet, but it’s good to have those bad boys handy. And don’t use coconut milk, you’ll regret it. You want the cream, trust me. Now let’s talk spices. Turmeric, cinnamon, coriander, cumin, cardamom and some chili flakes. You want that entire crowd. Grab a fist of each, mix them all together in a bowl and keep it close.

So you’ve got your chicken right, and now it’s time to put some color on it. I use Valhall Pre-Sliced here, makes it easier you know, but there’s a wide variety of Valhall chicken products that work just as well if you don’t mind doing some honest knife work. Bring out your coconut oil and get some heat on it. Get your chicken in there together with some salt and pepper and let that coconut oil do its thing for a while. Not too long though! You don’t want that chicken to dry out on you. When you’ve got just the right color, you hurl your cashew-onion-garlic-ginger paste in there, mix it all together and let it work for a while, but keep vigilant people; it’ll burn-and-stick if you’re not stirring it.

Now, upend your bowl’o’spice and get that entire potpourri down there, give it a good mixing and a few minutes, then let broth and coconut cream rain down on that beauty. Yeah, look at that color, that’s what I call a good ‘golden brown’. It’s kind of like a slightly lighter version of what the editor forum color theme used to look like back in the days. Always said that was a superior theme, but I digress, let’s get back on track.

Now let your korma simmer for a good while. I’m not gonna put any time limit or recommendation on it, but don’t be afraid to drag it out a bit. But again, don’t drag it out too long, know what I mean? When you’re nearly there, bring out some chickpeas and a lemon. Throw in the peas and squeeze that lemon dry, and then let it bubble lightly for another 5-10 minutes.

And that’s it guys, that’s your korma all done. I usually eat it with quinoa, but rice or bulgur does the trick real good as well. And that’s it for me, comrades. It’s clay season time you know, and I’m off to do some real damage down south on the continent. Keep it real, hang loose and Go Dandelions!

Cooking with Georg Heraklit is brought to you by Valhall Free-Range Chicken.

Valhall Chicken - Their sacrifice, Your Enjoyment

[Electrum]

The Turnip: Twii.tur Applauded For Taking Down Misinformation Concerning Ancherion, Delte, Darmen, Tyskerlund, Cassadaigua, Sarzonia, Serdtgyu, Magnecia, The Karodin Tetrachy and Huayramarca
by Billiam Maskey, chief-editor-in-chief

Citizens of the free world rejoice! Twii.tur, a social media network hellbent on creating a monopoly by exploiting network effects to be the world's digital town square, has in a bold move removed all posts concerning Ancherion, Delte, Darmen, Tyskerlund, Cassadaigua, Sarzonia, Serdtgyu, Magnecia, The Karodin Tetrachy and Huayramarca due to The Turnip's investigation about the non-existence of these countries.

Citing our investigation, a spokesperson from Twii.tur told us that, "While we support a free and open internet, we must intervene in situations where it is necessary for us to intervene. Like we have done so today. By intervening, we have shown that it is possible for us to intervene in response to public outrage, but only in situations where the intervening is warranted. It is thanks to your efforts that we can keep our platform free from misinformation. We have seen an uptick of bots on our platform who are commissioned by bad actors to undermine our precious democracy. Or autocracy, if we're talking about Mertagne or Tumbra."

Over the past day, approximately three hundred thousand twiis from the aforementioned fake nations have been removed including:

FUCK ELECTRUM, WE EXIST AND WE'LL SMASH YOU AT JOHNHO #DarmenForever #WC91Q

Powdered milk shortage in Cassadaigua of all places... really? #ugh #milk #twentyfirstcenturyproblems

The latest DLC in World Football Domination 91 doesn't allow my Huayramarcan player to have the option of two girlfriends -- just one. #bigamy

Someone really needs to change the color scheme of twii.tur... doesn't anyone know that brown and blue don't go together? And I hate how this message will fall outside of the neat frame that is supposed to enclose it. Fix it!

The removal of twiis will ramp up dramatically with the current army of twii.tur moderators, child labourers from Nyowani Kitara, being replaced by a toilet AI from Sylestone. After all, who better to flush the social media pipes of all of its bullshit than a learning, sentient toilet with experience eliminating years of crap. The move away from child labour is something that twii.tur should be commended for.

In other news, the Electrumite football team is at risk of not qualifying for the Cup of Harmony after winning its last two matches by default. No doubt the World Cup Committee also recognises The Turnip's efforts in not recognising the existence of Ancherion, Delte, Darmen, Tyskerlund, Cassadaigua, Sarzonia, Serdtgyu, Magnecia, The Karodin Tetrachy and Huayramarca. After all the World Cup Committee is angling to be a sporting federation hellbent on creating a monopoly by exploiting network effects to be the world's largest football competition.

[Cabo Azure]

Thibaea 0–1 Cabo Azure
Starters: Gomez | de Lima, Brandão K, Moniz, Costa | Maciel, Cunha (off 65'), Rathbone | Cardoso (off 45'), Corte-Real (goal 63'), Mendonça
Substitutes: Gouveia (on 45'), Lobo (on 65')

A routine match won routinely. Leaving nothing to chance for the last match of the October window versus Chromatika, Paulinho rested the majority of his starters and gave starts to U21 standouts Bento Cunha and Pio Mendonça in order to ensure the team had its best possible chance versus the Anomalies. Convention dictates that a match against a less-established side such as Thibaea immediately before a major test constitutes a "trap" game, but the Maçaricas never looked past the Warlocks and came away with three points as a result.

The Warlocks dominated possession early in the match, with Noël Blanc bombing up the right side and sending cross after cross into the box. Young Ambrosio Gomez, returning from a niggling injury that kept him sidelined during the September window, had an answer for every shot Delafosse and Interburua sent his way. The Azureans did get a bit lucky around the twenty-five minute mark as Henry Chevalier found the back of the net on an open goal, only to have it called back for offsides.

It wasn't until late in the first half that the Maçaricas found anything resembling a rhythm and began to threaten the goal. A dangerous corner kick by Bento Cunha looked like a sure goal when Kevin Brandão got on the end of it, but a heroic slide from Colbert tipped it just outside the goal. The teams entered the locker rooms at halftime on level terms, with no clear advantage.

The standard halftime sub of Gouveia for Cardoso added some pace and unpredictability to the Maçaricas' attack, and the elder Vasco managed to get the ball on target a few times, only to be denied by Fay each time. The game winner came from Corte-Real, just over two-thirds of the way through, off a give-and-go with young Pio Mendonça. Paulinho took no chances, substituting Marco Lobo on to assist the centerbacks in seeing the game out.

Cabo Azure 2–4 Chromatika
Starters: Gomez | de Lima, Medeiro, Moniz, Branco | Maciel, Ferreira, Rathbone | Silveira, Corte-Real, Gouveia (goal 44')
Substitutes:

A disappointing, if unsurprising loss to a superior opponent. Where last cycle was the story of draws, including impressive away draws to Banija and Brenecia, this cycle has mostly been an all-or-nothing affair, with the Maçaricas winning resounding victories over worse teams and generally losing to better ones. The match against the Anomalies proved no exception, as the Maçaricas spent ninety minutes chasing the match despite a characteristically heroic performance from Vasco Gouveia.

Hank Killian set the tone for the match with a resounding strike in the fifth minute, splitting the space between de Lima and Medeiro expertly and sending Gomez into full stretch to no avail. The Maçaricas regrouped quickly, but were unable to find an answer, with Corte-Real in particular skying a promising chance at about twenty minutes in. With frustration setting in, Moniz made an uncharacteristic mistake in tackling Baillaire Fillar from behind, giving up a direct kick in a dangerous position that quickly put the Anomalies up 2-0.

Vasco Gouveia would claw one back in typical form, firing at an obscene angle from the left shoulder of goal to sneak one past Begley and in, sending the teams to the locker rooms at 2-1 to Chromatika. The second half was more of the same; a key giveaway by Seth Rathbone just a few minutes into the half was punished with a cracker of a goal; Branco managed to respond, with an assist from Gouveia, but the Maçaricas would remain behind by one for the majority of the half.

The final nail in the Azurean coffin came at the death, when Moniz earned the first red card in the history of the national team with an ill-advised elbow to Armageddon's cheek during an aerial ball. The subsequent penalty was converted without much fuss, and playing with ten men, it was all the Azureans could do to maintain the 4-2 scoreline.

Renegade, Act I, pt 3
Manuel met his sisters in the king’s private study, located directly beneath his apartment in the palace. The room always felt to Alex like it would be more at home in a university than a palace; maps hung on the walls, both contemporary and historical, hung between floor-to-ceiling bookshelves full of yellowing tomes. An ornate desk against one wall was attended by an overstuffed chair and held a single, air-gapped computer that Alex knew was for Manuel’s university studies.

The king of Cabo Azure was dressed as casually as he ever dressed, in black slacks and a bespoke blue button-down that enhanced his newfound physique. In addition to hitting the books when he’d been preparing to assume the role of king, he’d retained the services of a trainer from the PE department at Maritime and begun a rigorous physical training regimen. In the five years since being crowned, Alex’s spoiled, slovenly older brother had grown into a fit, worldly man worthy of leading the Azurean islands. Alex had to admit, to herself if no one else, that it chafed to see him finally living up to his potential.

“Morning,” Manuel said neutrally as the girls entered. Ronnie wore high-waisted jeans with a white blouse and chukka boots, Alex a navy jumpsuit with white flats, her hair brushed out and worn over one shoulder. She’d considered wearing her hair in braids out of a desire to avoid complications, but had decided the look would be too juvenile to serve. She couldn’t explain her actions to her older brother if she went into the conversation looking like his little sister.

“Morning,” Alex answered quietly. A small table had been set in the center of the room with a pot of coffee, five mugs, and a typical Azurean breakfast of haddock on toast. Seeing the extra mugs, Alex looked around for who might be joining them.

“Yancy will be joining us shortly,” Manuel said, in reply to the unanswered question. “Along with my new intelligence attache. In the meantime, please, sit and eat.” His tone was formal, though not unkind; he was holding back so as to not tip his hand early. Alex was intimately familiar with the trick from when her father used it. Luis would always reserve judgment until adolescent Alex had whipped herself into a frenzy, at which point he would swoop in and deconstruct her arguments one by one. She detested her father for this trick, even after his death, because he was more concerned with being right than his daughter’s wellbeing.

Ronnie took the king’s invitation before her sister, sitting and pouring a cup of coffee with a generous helping of cream and sugar. A look passed between Manuel and Alex; Ronnie, the baby of the family, had always been impatient and impulsive, and she’d always sweetened her coffee to the point it was mostly sugar. Alex allowed herself to relax slightly, knowing Manuel wouldn’t be sharing in-jokes with her if he planned to seriously punish her. She poured coffee for her and Manuel and took a bite of the haddock, suddenly aware that she was ravenously hungry.

“What happened to the ship?” Ronnie asked suddenly, breaking the uneasy silence.

“It’s at anchor in Sao Simone,” Manuel answered, his tone still not betraying his thoughts. “The commandos are going through the cargo piece by piece and comparing it to the manifest.”

Ronnie nodded mutely, evidently satisfied. Questions surfaced in Alex’s mind, but she quieted them. She wanted to know what would happen to her supplier, and to the women they’d helped. Through the illicit distribution of birth control pills, Alex and her supplier had built an ad-hoc mutual aid network consisting of women from all walks of life. They’d known all along they would get caught; Alex’s involvement was calculated to raise the profile of the operation in specific ways and force the authorities to decide whether to enforce the unofficial ban on importing birth control.

“Did Bravo order the raid?” Alex asked, deciding that was the safest avenue of inquiry.

“I can’t tell you that,” Manuel replied quickly, but evenly. Vexed, Alex turned to her sister.

“How did you find out about it?”

“Through the chain of command,” Ronnie answered, not taking her eyes off her coffee.

“So both of you were just following orders?” Alex demanded.

Manuel looked to his right, evidently at a hidden camera, and gestured for an unseen individual to enter the room. A young man emerged in khakis and a button-down shirt, his close-cropped hair a dead giveaway to his military status, with Yancy close behind him. Both men bowed to Manuel before taking up the open seats at the table flanking him.

“This is Noah Rathbone, my new intelligence attache,” Manuel said. “Noah, my sisters, the Princesses Alexandra and Veronica.” The young man acknowledged each princess in turn, and Manuel went on. “Please show Princess Alexandra the dossier.” Noah turned to him with surprise in his eyes, but Yancy gave him a nod, and the young man produced a manilla folder from his briefcase.

“Everything you’re about to see is confidential,” Noah said, his Portuguese sounding native despite his Nepharim name and appearance. “Nothing can-”

“Noah,” said Yancy sharply. “Just show them the dossier.”

Nodding fervently, Noah opened the folder on the table between them and rotated it so the princesses could read its contents. Ronnie took the file from him, slid it closer to her, and read over the individual sheets of paper carefully, while Alex simply held her head in her hands. They detailed the inner workings of a ring of smugglers, operating out of the Colonia Santo Domingo, a working-class neighborhood in southern Sao Simone. Most of the details were intimately familiar to Alex, as she’d spent the last six months working with the crew in question, but some of it was news to her, and that news made her mouth go dry.

Ronnie finished reading and joined the men in looking expectantly at her sister. Alex tried to speak, but her voice came out in a croak.

“She told me her girls were dancers,” Alex said with a resigned indignation. “Dancers who did a little extra curricular with their favorite clients. Not…not this.”

“This” was a pretty clear-cut case of human trafficking; girls brought from the smaller islands of Cabo Azure, as well as places further afield in Rushmore. They were dancers, yes–Alex recognized a few, to her despair–but they were kept from their families, not allowed to call home, or told that the shame on their families would be too great. Poring over the documents, she recognized the patterns; the same places, people, routes, bribes. This was her crew, alright. One word escaped her lips, a name:

“Blanca.”

Paulinho Names 23 to January Camp Roster
The Maçaricas roster for the January camp and the first match against Saterun, as well as return fixtures versus Kimi-Suomi and Al-Qurija and a planned friendly vs. Astograth, have been announced. This roster represents the greatest change of the qualifying cycle thus far, in large part because of the conflict with the fifty-third Di Bradini Cup, in which several key senior-team players will be involved, including Pio Medonca and Bento Cunha. Fonseca receives his first callup since going to Tikariot several years ago, while Lucas Barbosa returns to the fold in the midfield.

Goalkeepers		Defenders		Midfielders		Forwards
Antunes			Branco			Barbosa			Botehlo
Batista			Brandão D		Ferreira		Cardoso
Gomez			Brandão K		Lobo			Corte-Real
			Carreira		Maciel			Dantas
			de Lima			Rathbone		Fonseca
			Medeiro			Silvestre J		Gouveia
			Moniz						Silveira

[Hapilopper]

The Team Hapilopper Headquarters, Hapilopper City
Two days after World Cup 91 Qualifying Match 8: Hapilopper 8-3 Eastfield Lodge

Six in the morning. The sun was slowly rising over the horizon in Hapilopper City. Nathan Ellis looked out the window of his office, overlooking Team Hapilopper’s practice pitch. A cup of coffee in hand – prepared the same way every time – Sharpe’s Dark Roast, nothing in it to sludge it down – Nathan was preparing himself mentally for the day’s training ahead. But mentally preparing himself to get ready for the next matches, he found, was a hell of a lot easier than it had been in years past. So damn much easier.

Easier than it was two years ago, when Team Hapilopper found themselves at the bottom of the table, finding it near-impossible to win a single match.

Easier than it was a year ago, when Nathan wasn’t sure if Dom Probst was going to pull the plug on the team entirely.

And so damn much easier than it was six years before, when it seemed like there were players actively working to sabotage the Hapiloppian team.

Not this year. No way. Football was fun again for Nathan Ellis. His teammates – his “kids,” as some knew them, had taken charge and in the last two matches, had not just taken to defeating their opponents, but totally dominating them. Nathan thought about the statistics, something that one of the technical staff had mailed him the night before. Team Hapilopper had scored fourteen goals in the last two matches.

Nathan printed out the statistics and read them as he drank his coffee. Five came from Toby Bryson, three came from Pete Robson – all in the Eastfield Lodge match, two came from Parker Mathis, and one each came from himself, Herb Northrop, Jimmy Huddleston and Elias Moon, who was subbed on late in the Eastfield Lodge match where the Haps won 8-3.

These stats kept making him happier and happier as he read them. He couldn’t remember the last time Hapilopper scored 14 goals in two matches – maybe dating back to the team’s legendary Baptism of Fire run, when the Hapilopper National Football Team steamrolled over practically everyone en route to the trophy. And he wasn’t sure how much longer Hapilopper’s run was going to last as they continued to roll over the competition, but he was sure going to savor it.

As he looked out towards the practice field, he spotted something that caught his eye. It was just past six in the morning, but there was a good number of fans on site at the facility, already there to watch the team do the necessary training to get ready for the next match, a home scrap against Caribbia, those poor saps at the bottom of the table of Group 15.

Nathan almost felt sorry for Caribbia. They were newcomers to the world of international football, they weren’t doing that great at it, and they were getting ready to take on a team that was the hottest it had ever been, inside the unfriendly confines of Capital Stadium in Hapilopper City, a place that had become louder, rowdier and more batshit insane as the matches progressed. It started out crazy, as fans were over the moon watching the World Cup banner get raised, but only got wilder as Team Hapilopper kept winning matches and holding their spot all alone at the top of Group 15, which now was a six-point lead over Valanora and eight points over Kelssek.

And now fans were getting up early, skipping work and doing what they could to watch their fellow countrymen practice for their next match. This was unbelievable, a sign that Team Hapilopper had absolutely captured the imagination of Hapiloppians everywhere. Poor Caribbia.

Nathan sat back at his desk, reviewing some plans for the upcoming match when Dom Probst came into the office with a massive smile on his face. He, too, was over the moon at how Team Hapilopper had been doing, especially in the last two matches, and with a great opportunity to go into the next two matches with a chance to really raise some hell.

“Fourteen goals in two matches, Ellis!” Dom said proudly. “Fourteen! I ain’t never heard of such’a thing. Just wanted to let you know that I’m proud of all of you. I went down to the locker room just now and everyone’s just buzzing. I’ve never seen this team the way it is right now! Just wanted to let you know, all of you, you, Thom, Myrone, y’all keep up the good work.”

Nathan nodded his head and smiled.

“You know, Ellis, I think back to that Baptism of Fire team,” Dom continued. “I remember being so worried that the team was going to split apart at the seams that year. You and Steve Erickson, Ernie Stevenson and Colin McLain, I was afraid there’d be fights in the locker room but instead, y’all got it together and y’all just rolled over everyone. There was so much positive energy, so much excitement, and I’m seeing the same thing here. Keep it up.”

“I’m seeing it too,” Nathan said. “I got a good feeling about it, Dom. I think we’re here to stay. Hopefully this will last.”

Dom nodded his head and went on his way, over to speak to Thom Perkins, who was working on the game plans for the upcoming match with Caribbia. Nathan, meanwhile, worked his way over to the locker room, where he spotted his teammates, all buzzing and excited to play some ball, more than ever. There were no internal issues, nobody actively sabotaging the team. Everyone was on the same page and excited for what was coming next.

And as Nathan got to his locker to change for the training session, it hit him. The fact that Team Hapilopper had kept its base from year to year, that probably worked in their favor as well. The team was such a unit. The chemistry between players was such that couldn’t be replicated or fixed by changing people out, and maybe that was the reason the team was as good as it was.

Nathan wasn’t sure how much longer this run would last, but damn it, he was sure going to savor it.

[Juvencus]

The Second Great War of Unification(1876-1892)

Ever since the failure of the Independentist Coalition to capture Pomena in fast fashion failed as well as the subsequent Unionist counter-attack and multiple failures of the Independentists to capitalise on any opportunities given to them, the war became much slower-paced, turning back to its 1876-1877 levels. This would imply skirmishes would not escalate into full-blown battles unless they were in the most important, scale-tipping positions. Stubbornness of the leaders was also an important factor in the commencing of several battles in the war. Stubbornness that persisted perhaps because of the ego of leaders, such as King Alberto VI of Torona, or because of the importance of a certain location. Such was the case of Ioleta, a trading outpost near Paurosse that was of great significance to the Scudelliano, whose attacks against the Domenicans that were punching above their weight defending against them had failed.

The Scudelliano Push, painting by Vincenzo De Angelis ~circa 1899

Chapter 12: Battle of Ioleta Forest(October 1st, 1879)
"To see light in the night means the war is not over. Do not succumb to division." Domenican Captain Ricciardo Gasparini's last words before dying in the battle of Ioleta Forest, as recalled by his surviving privates after the battle

The defeat at nearby Fort Paurosse back in April had given time for the Scudelliano Naval Force in the area to disperse and reorganise itself in such a manner that the Domenican Naval Force in the area would mainly focus on naval defence rather than land defence. Ioleta, despite its high importance as an outpost of its own heavily relied on the defences at Paurosse, with only a small battalion located at the nearby forest, as it was the only main land entrance to the city that was accessible to the Scudelliano without having to go around and through Paurosse, which would be a lot costlier to begin with. The front was to be taken over by the heir to the Scudelliano throne, Michelangelo IIhimself, who has had previous wartime experience in combat at the Qurijas, prior to the Second Great Unification War. The carefully laid out plan by Michelangelo II had a Scudelliano force strike through the forest swiftly and capture Ioleta, thus giving an opening to the Scudelliano fleet to edge a bit closer to Paurosse without much danger from multiple directions.

The forest crossing was initially planned to happen during the afternoon of September 30th, 1879, however due to heavy rainfall, it was pushed to October 1st. Indeed after midnight, a contingent of Domenican soldiers ventured too deep in the forest and noticed the resting Scudelliano. Another contingent of Scudelliano happening to guard the location took notice of this and the first shots were exchanged, the Domenicans managed to escape and warn the rest of the battalion of the looming invasion. The Scudelliano on the other hand also prepared themselves for battle, spreading all around the forest in order to surround the Domenicans the best way the could.

Soon after, shots started being fired as the Domenican and Scudelliano soldiers charged at each other, resulting in yet another bloody melee battle. Michelangelo II boosted his soldiers' morale by being a fierce soldier in combat, killing or incapacitating multiple Domenican soldiers that came in his path, leading them forwards to the other side of the forest. Slowly but surely, the Scudelliano force had pushed the Domenicans out of the forest, where they ran back to the city to improve their positions, but as they did that, the Scudelliano chased them inside Ioleta,where the fight raged on.

With no artillery to slow down the battle and force the Domenicans to surrender, a collective push to the city was the best choice. Streets were filled with lines of smoke, houses and gardens used as cover for both Domenican and Scudelliano soldiers alike, sending most of the local civilians in a panic spiral, while some fought in the side of the Domenicans. However, despite all resistance, the Domenicans would have to surrender their guns and capitulate. This was the first major Scudelliano victory against the Domenicans in the war, all thanks to Michelangelo II's careful planning but also the valiance of the Scudelliano soldiers in combat. While the Domenicans were left in shambles following the overlooking of such a tiny gap.

With this victory, the Scudelliano had a good shot at capturing Paurosse and pushing further southeast, where the important centers of Santo Domenico and Vinceti were located. Ioleta became the first station for the Scudelliano fleet approaching Paurosse for what would be another battle of great importance.

Battle Outcome: Scudelliano victory! Michelangelo II takes over in the Eastern Theater.

Principality of Scudelli: 1,500 infantry, 30 casualties
Principality of Santo Domenico: 1,200 infantry, 110 casualties, 300 captured

[Saterun]

The Promised Land: A Journey Through Saterun Football
By Kalvin Hsemer

Part 1, Chapter 4: Saterun Football's First Dynasty

Let me get this out of the way: This is in no way a complete history of Siaman CF. If that's what you want, skip ahead of this chapter. Finish reading the book, then go look up A Tale of Two Crests: Siaman and Club Football, by Henrik Larrson.

If you're still here, then allow me to introduce the true purpose of this chapter. It is not to explain Siaman's whole history. It actually condenses everything down to the two years that gave Siaman its rise. Siaman had a rich history after that, including the Pedellin era, none of which I will get into during the course of this chapter. Siaman will resurface in this book, however, but will be called by their new name: Tsear FC.

When Siaman was founded, Tsear was still the administrative capital of the country. The SFF was also headquartered there. It was the perfect place to found a football team. While her three brothers had bought into the SFF, Lila Gazzati wanted more local action. The borough in Tsear in which Lila lived had long been called Siaman, after the lake that bordered it to the south. Lila had just as much of a fortune as her brothers, and so used some of it to build the 5,000 capacity Reed Moor. Reed Moor would eventually be taken down, but it stood for 75 years. During that time, it gradually expanded, finishing with a 21,000 capacity. Lila also gathered the best players in Tsear. She organized scouting and training camps for her players. A state-of-the-art facility was constructed not a mile from Reed Moor, and was open from 6am-10pm. Siaman CF was ready to take on Saterun amateur football.

Lila worked hard over the ensuing 3 months. No new team, however rich they are, will have a breakout season their first time round. They need to establish a fanbase and infrastructure. Advertising campaigns were unavoidable. Siaman also went with bold kit colors. Their main was green, and away was blue, with white being a secondary color for both. They've kept those colors until today. Most of the teams of the day played in a white and black strip, with the occasional red. But Siaman needed to get noticed. A crucial moment came when Lila negotiated a sponsorship for her club. Saterun Shipping LLC was prepared to pay a small amount to get their name on the kits. Eventually, they signed a 5-year deal, worth an estimated §75,000 total. Not that much in today's money, but life-changing for Siaman.

Up until his point, Siaman had played no actual games. This was due to the club being founded during the annual intermission period (think summer transfer window for IFCF), and because they needed a lot of support before they were ready to actually launch. Thanks to their owner and her team, they were now ready. It appears Siaman first took on local side Haven Borough FC. They drew 2-2. When Haven Borough finally liquidized, Siaman offered to play a friendly in honor of that first game. Siaman won 6-0. That was one example of how much they had grown.

But back to the past.

Siaman struggled a bit during that first year. They were ways away from even the qualifying rounds of the Island Cup, and had lost 7 of their 11 games. They had drawn one (that initial 2-2 game against Haven Borough), and had managed to win the other three. Lila worked tirelessly behind the scenes, but a team's performance is down to the players. After that first year, the backroom staff knew something needed to change. You could make an argument that they were being unnecessarily hard on themselves, raising expectations too high. Crest FC had been around for over 50 years by now. They showed that a team needed history. But Lila wanted to win a trophy within her lifetime. The first step to that was firing Siaman's manager. Russel Crowe had taken the reigns of the team during its first year. But he liked having complete control over signings. If he was scout savvy, that might not have been a problem, but he refused to look at stats or the club's scouts. So Lila fired him. She brought in Jamie Ngo, a tactical and scouting revolutionary. He worked closely with all the parts of player transfers: the scouts, stats, directors, and even Lila herself. She liked how he consulted several people before buying a player.

But Jamie was just the beginning. In an unprecedented move, a club just out of its maiden season set up a funnel team. East Shores Pride was directly controlled by Siaman. ESP would find the best players on the east; Siaman would find them in the west. Along with ESP, Siaman set up several youth teams around the country. They now had a reliable source of young players.

The final piece was the senior players. Ngo immediately started garnering scout reports. He looked everywhere, but was particularly interested with the local Tsear players. Three monumental signings came from Ngo and Tsear: David Umania, Liam De Hon, and Jorje Maelhe. Ngo would also eventually mastermind Pedellin's move, although he was Director of Football during that time. All of these pieces were set up perfectly. For a second time, Siaman was ready. They started off the season with a tremendous 5-2 win over Futsworth team Brattleboro AFC. They followed that with two more wins. Three games in, they looked like a team to be reckoned with. Unfortunately, they had a mid-season slump. In the following seven games, they lost three and drew four. With a 3-4-3 record, they needed a win to advance to the qualifying rounds of the Island Cup. Seven games without a win can really do a number on you, but Ngo steered his side to a victory. They knocked out Haven Borough in the final round of qualifying after a 4-1 win in the previous qualifying round. Siaman were so close.

They had drawn Crest FC in the first round. No games had been played between these teams, but Crest FC had a reputation. Siaman knew they had to do well. It came down to the wire that night, with Siaman going through 6-5 on penalties. They were in the semi-finals.

They won an uneventful semi-final 1-0 against a team from Portura. They were called Pinewood something. It doesn't matter. What did matter was that Siaman were in the finals, against the top northern side. Isla Vinter Football Team were quite a side. While Crest ruled in the south, County ruled in the east, and Siaman battled with Haven in the west, they dominated in the north. Each region of Saterun had a dominant club. The night of the final is remembered as one of the greatest Saterun domestic matches of all. I fact-checked, of course, but the story has been told so many times that I could recall it from heart. Well, here goes.

Siaman started out strong, scoring the opener within 15. IVFT struggled for a bit, but a brilliant run from forward Ivan Rakovitc sent them level. IVTF scored again before halftime, and looked on track to win. Their defense had been rock-solid after the Siaman goal, with the opposition only getting one shot after the initial goal. In the second half, however, Siaman took over. They dominated possession, and were able to sneak in a cross in the 66th to level it once more. Play continued after that up until the 90+4. The last minute of extra time. Maelhe stood over the free kick. He had proven himself in the play-offs, but this was his big moment. He swung and kicked. The ball soared and... struck the intersection between the crossbar and post. Would Siaman have to go to ET again? Luckily for them, the ball rebounded to the feet of De Hon, who slipped it in.

So there it was. Siaman lifted it's first trophy, and still remains the only club to do it in its first two seasons. 13 years after that, Futsworth Town would lift it in three years since founding, but no team ever got it in two. Siaman continued to have a glorious history, including their phoenixing into Tsear FC.

But the A Liga was still a long way off. Across the country, however, the very first league was in the process of being formed. The Eastern Cities League was going to break away from the traditional 11 friendlies, and spearheading it were none other than East Shores Pride.

[Flavovespia]

Flavovespia 2 - 0 New Folgore

Flavovespia seemed to have come off of the bye a bit sluggish, but were eventually able to put away New Folgore to make it 3 home wins in a row, and a good start to the Highland Road leg of the qualifiers. Ina tough group with plenty of surprises so far, Flavovespia at this stage keep their playoff aspiration firmly in the realm of reality.

Defeat at Turori yielded just the one change, Andrew Dance returned in place of David Blythe. Daniel Lansdell wasn’t quite back to fitness, so Tony Gardner continued to start for Flavovespia. Aarif Muhammad continued in goal as well, having a fairly consistent set of qualifiers so far.

It wasn’t a particularly thrilling start to the match. Flavovespia seemed to be sluggish, overhitting relatively simple passes, and lacking pace in the final third to open up New Folgore. It wasn’t the direct, vertical football that Augusto Rinaldi wanted from his side. But for one long ball that Aarif Muhammad smartly came out to clear away, New Folgore were struggling to create much either.

Flavovespia were convinced they had a penalty just before half-time, for a handball on the edge of the box from an attempted cross by Michael Cole. However a prolonged video referee delay saw the decision dropped for a free kick, with barely centimetres in the decision. The home crowd were unimpressed, and then unimpressed with a free kick blasted into the wall itself. Half time, the score 0-0, and whilst Flavovespia were the better side, chances were a bit of a premium.

In the end, it was a substitute who broke the deadlock. Sustained pressure saw Michael Cole and Scott Coleman have shots blocked, before the ball rolled to David Clark. Clark jabbed at the ball, and got it across the line. Admittedly the New Folgore goalkeeper could’ve and probably should’ve done more, but a goal is a goal, and in a game like this, Flavovespia would take it.

7 minutes later, the lead was doubled. Jonathan Bagshaw played a one-two with Scott Coleman, which beat the defence and the offside trap. From there, it was about finishing off a one vs one chance, which Bagshaw did with poise and composure. 2-0, and it felt much more comfortable.

New Folgre felt deflated, and the last 10-15 minutes posed little threat for Flavovespia. The game was won with Flavovespia relatively untroubled, and eventually finding the net after some slow early play. Upcoming games against Metherwoll, Wreckeria and The 14 Stars, all in the 3rd-6th group, could prove the key to who may make it into the playoffs, and who will wait for a potential Cup of Harmony 83 invite.

Flavovespia’s Obscure Eleven: Mervyn Button (CB)

Whilst some thought that Ronald Ireland with his one cap would make this squad, it was in fact Mervyn Button, selected for just one squad, who came out as slightly more obscure than Ronald Ireland. Some of Ireland’s infamy at club and international level, falling out with a few team mates and crucially replacement manager Nick Cole may have made him more memorable.

Mervyn Button was a classic “no-nonsense” defender, physically tall and strong, and not much in the way of pace, agility or flair. If you wanted a centre back who could win an aerial duel, or put in a strong challenge, he was your man. Originally a Westwood Garden City player from their youth ranks, he would join Marthorpe City in 18AU at the age of 23, for a fairly solid sum. He would win 3 league titles with them, before in 25AU, leaving for Langmere Green Rovers. Marthorpe City thought he’d peak and was downhill, but Mervyn Button was an important part of the Langmere Green Rovers squad who came 2nd in 26AU, before a first ever title in 27AU. That earned him a spot as one of 7 reserves for the 23 man squad that went to World Cup Qualifiers 83 and Cup of Harmony 75.

Then, for the AOCAF Cup 59, Flavovespia’s debut in that tournament, Mervyn Button was in the squad. Room at centre back had been vacated by John Calvert, who by this point was too old for the squad. However, by the year 28AU, a fair few questioned why a 33 year old Mervyn Button was in the squad, it seemed a very short term option by Nick Cole.

Mervyn Button would make his debut from the bench in the opener, a 0-1 loss to Euran Oceania Territories. The goal had already been conceded by that point, but Button at least prevent any further on the counter. He then started against Freeport, but the 3-3 game was less successful for him. Despite playing the 90 minutes, he was beaten for pace for the first goal by Freeport, then couldn’t stop a last minute equaliser from a header in a crowded box. Button started the one goal win vs 95X with a clean sheet, but was subbed off to freshen up the side. Button’s final appearance was in a 1-3 loss to Krytenia, he saw out the 90 minutes, but didn’t put in a particularly good display.

By the end of the tournament and the 28AU season, Mervyn Button’s decline in skill had begun. Two young centre backs were now taking his role for Langmere Green Rovers, Alexander May and Paul Rodwell. It was then Alexander May who took his place in the next squad, for World Cup Qualifiers 84. He would become a mainstay of the national side, and Paul Rodwell would also go on to get caps. As for Mervyn Button, by 30AU, he chose to retire with Langmere Green Rovers as champions. Although to a fair few pundits, he probably still had at least another season as a potential lower table Super League defender in him, he chose to retire at the top, saying he’d achieved all he wanted to.

A defender who managed to stick to the line of “firm but fair”, Mervyn Button was generally well liked in his career. He has occasionally dabbled in punditry, and when asked about his time for Flavovespia, he says it was a highlight of his career, but maybe came a bit too late. That sums up his time in the national team. If Flavovespia began international football about 10 years before they did, he could well have been capped dozens of times, most seasons he was in the discussion for Super League Team of the Year as a centre back. By the time he got into international football, the signs of age were apparent. Unfortunate in a way he was largely forgotten and those who do remember him don’t remember him well, as international football was just too late for him.

[Savojarna]

SavojarSports.sj - inside reports from all Savojarna
The Northlights: a choking problem?

By Jaukka Halanen

Something is clearly wrong about the results this Savojarna team is getting. While many have suspected that with the retirement of Maersk, Pakanen (who is playing a splendid SFS A season and might be called back up) and Voynov, the times of Savojarna challenging the very top of the world are over for the moment, there’s still a lot of quality in this side. With players like playmaker Morten Poulsen, who has been the engine of this Savojarna side for years, long-term best SFS goalkeeper Aleks Virulainen, and two-times Champions League winner Misha Jashkin still there, Savojarna should in theory be doing better than their recent results suggest. However, ever since the end of the reign of Mikaela Rangren, there have been some issues in the team - and a good part of it seems to come from issues with pressure.

Signs of this could already be seen when Daniella Strauss took over, with the Nepharan reaching decent results in terms of points (1.7 points per game) and coming relatively close to qualifying for another World Cup, only losing the spot on the last two games against Vilita and Devonta. That was already seen as some sign of choking issues, but it was isolated, and the team seemed to make up for it with a solid Cup of Harmony performance - until they fell at the second knock-out stage to Squornshelous in an almost embarrassing 5-1 defeat. The Savojar streak at the Copa Rushmori - four semifinal appearances in a row - also fell apart in Strauss’ hands, as the Northlights were defeated by Sargossa in overtime at the quarterfinal stage. Together with yet another octofinal exit at the Cup of Harmony, this resulted in the end of Strauss’ three year tenure at the helm of the Northlights, with a decent balance of games in the qualifiers, but a 3-3 record in knockout games and no progression past a quarterfinal in the Copa. This would be the bar for Gylfi Haukason… and he failed spectacularly. Under Gylfi, Savojarna struggled immensely, often looked disjointed, and managed eight consecutive winless games in the World Cup Qualifiers. There was some hope at the Copa as Savojarna pulled themselves together for one game against Cassadaigua, but then fell to Pridnestrovia at the quarterfinal again. Gylfi, too, exited the team after just one year with a 1-1 result in knockout games, and a terrible record at the WCQ.

With the World Cup realistically out of reach when Lijushkin took over, Savojarna had the luxury of playing without any pressure - and promptly strung together five consecutive victories to close out the campaign, as well as an unbeaten group stage in the Cup of Harmony. But much like under Strauss, Savojarna could not win more than one knockout game, losing 1-4 to Mercedini in the octofinals despite entering the bracket as the top seed. And then, with his first World Cup qualifier with actual stakes, Lijushkin led the team on a terrible start of the campaign, winning just one game in seven attempts, including a home draw to the rookie side of the Forbidden Territories and a loss to Wreckeria in the Bjurman. The only victory came to the complete unknown side of New Folgore at home, a victory that is a must-win for a third seed under normal circumstances; now, Lijushkin will likely be under focus again. But is he really the issue of this side?

It clearly appears that there are some mental issues to a team that can win five consecutive games including a win against their group’s top seed, and generally maintains a positive record and a top 50 placement, but can’t go even or better in deciding games. Savojarna just seem to fall flat any time that a win is required to keep their hopes alive, and crumble under pressure put onto the team. Is the team no longer the united group it has been under the Rangren years? Is the team too inconsistent with no coach since Rangren managing two complete campaigns? Players understandably refused to comment on these speculations, calling them “done without knowledge” and “something we would rather not speculate about, and should be between players”, although Morten Poulsen also responded that the feelings in the locker room were still good. Looking back further, we see that this situation is a rule rather than an exception: Before Rangren’s takeover, Savojarna won only two knockout games outright and won three in penalties; compare this to eight knockout losses and one penalty loss. Three of those five successful knockout games came under Lise Asbeck, with Rangren as her co-coach.

Perhaps, the lesson is not that Savojarna’s recent coaches are choking-prone, or that the team lacks a leader, but that Rangren has some unique leadership that no other Savojar coach so far has been able to copy. Unlike her friend and coaching partner Asbeck, Rangren maintained good relations with the SFFB and left on her own terms in order to rejoin Asbeck at Libertas Bergheim. With the Libertas project stuttering, the SFFB may be looking at bringing her back in some capacity, although such a move would doubtlessly be controversial at the least. In fact, with Lijushkin’s records still among the better of Savojarna’s coaching history, any change will be controversial; but at the same time, any lack of change risks maintaining a difficult position until it is too late - a mistake the SFFB made last cycle, and many think an earlier move to Lijushkin would have been a better choice as the team seemed to move much better after the change. Another issue is the lack of suitable candidates. Patrik Alexandersson of Partisan Sjoedrhavn already has announced he has no interest in the national team position, preferring to be a national team coach. Other SFS coaches have an ongoing contract and little reason to move away either; the international market is frequently dry mid-cycle. Unless the SFFB pulls out something from a hat, or reverts to Rangren’s return, there will be little options that look better than staying with Lijushkin.

[Chartistan]

"Hello, is this Katanmak Juliasterinthen? Oh, he's not available at this time? Should've known."

This wasn't Doctor Lucas Combbrush's finest hour as Chartistan manager. While having the day off was something that would fit his schedule well, there was one major issue that he couldn't grasp even as he arrived at his office - New Eestiball's shenanigans. As the old adage goes, shenanigans beget shenanigans. But what this team was doing to his sanity was a bit off. Tallinn was, as he talked about for 3 hours in that hell of a lecture about every single thing New Eestiball or its fans can do to piss off the World Cup Committee, hell. You can talk to The Holy Empire about the shenanigans needed for them to come away with the draw against the best team in the world, but that was already discussed in length. Whether it be the players, literal doorknobs themselves, or the New Eestiball fans, there was always a way for them to get an unfair advantage over the competition.

It was so egregious that looking through the request sheet they sent, a carryover from the Baptism of Fire just gone, was laughable. "godmod scoring events: yeah right, no"? My brother in Christ you sucked Isaac Paraspondylo through a vacuum so you can tie up the game. "Godmod injuries: NO"? I mean hey Chartistan doesn't do that, so they were on the right track... Actually, now that he thought about it, that game wasn't just 11 doorknobs doing God knows what and trying to get him riled up, was it? The World Cup Committee, or the New Eestiball FA, or the stadium staff, whoever it was, made sure that the whole vacuum thing didn't happen again for... Obvious reasons. But still New Eestiball found time to shock the visitors and prove that they weren't just one trick ponies. Bring on 832. "O! R U L8, 32?" Yamjune joked around the other substitutes, frustrated beyond reason thanks to the 74th minute screamer from just outside the box for the win and the 3 points that came it. The frustration was coming from there. It wasn't some OP stuff that needed to be addressed.

Combbrush was overreacting. Nothing more. It would be a shame if...

Yeah. A portal from the ceiling opened up. It was Alice Wonderworld.

"Alice, come on! What are you doing over here?" Combbrush looked at the Billboard-born but Gaon-residing starlet in training with a bit of caution. I mean, she surely didn't end up in here just to be forced on to the team and all.

"Hey, Doctor Lucas! Sorry that I went by here, traveling through dimensions and all is such a pain." Alice scratched the back of her head and looked at the Musicville manager, his Chartistan hat on as he laser focused his eyes on her.

"Traveling dimensions, huh. Say, did you end up in the Dreamed Realm yet?"

"No, I haven't! I know Chartistan hasn't played there yet so I avoid going there at any cost-"

"OR Shayol?"

"No I haven't, I know the Holy Empire players trained there and that might be the cause of their weird mutations..."

Combbrush chuckled at those words. "Yeah, I know. Hopefully this won't affect us."

"Roger dodger!" And with another portal opening, Alice went off down the rabbit hole once more.