World Cup 91 [roleplays]

by **Banija** » Tue Jun 07, 2022 12:40 pm

The Coulibaly Corner: Your one stop shop for everything college football!

Hey guys! Welcome back to my corner of the internet for everything college football! I, of course, usually cover the NSCF, especially the two Banijan schools, as well as domestic college football here in Banija. I'm a University of Moravica grad- aka, we don't like either of the Banijan schools. But of course, due to physical proximity, they get the Lion's share of this blog's attention.

But it's the opening day of the World Cup! We're all in World Cup fever. Banija is a nation that has been to 10 World Cups. Half of them, we made a run to at least the World Cup Semifinals(with a 1-4 record), and the other half, of course, we did not. That's a pretty good record of winning at least two games in the World Cup knockout stages.

So I'm gonna participate in some World Cup fever. And I woke up on the wrong side of the bed today, so I'm going to go with a bad idea time, probably my greatest edition yet.

Of course, this would never work because club contracts, and all of that, and it'd certainly make everybody less money... But fuck it. Not my pockets, right? And this is an edition of bad idea time, after all.

Bad Idea Time- Format the World Cup like the Champions League

I'm sure you're out here thinking, "this dude is batshit insane." Get rid of the 20 game World Cup Qualifying process, and instead give teams between 2 and 10 games(considering all those two-legged ties) to make the World Cup Finals? Get rid of fixture congestion, have more meaningful games everywhere. What is there possibly to lose?

I'm sure you're all wondering, how the hell would this work? We have the answers.

Automatic Places
Instead of 18 spots like in the IFCF Champions League, we're simply going to have 10 automatic qualifiers. The co-hosts of the knockout stages(as the hosts will only host the knockouts, we'll get to this later), plus the top 8 teams in the KPB rankings.

Now, I know what you're thinking- automatic places in the Finals? Well, we do it for the sport's biggest club competition, and nobody bats an eye there. Nothing is written in stone! I am the master of the Coulibaly-verse. So this year, using the pre-Qualifying rankings, we would've had as follows...

POT 1
Græntfjall(23, co-host)
Farfadillis(10, co-host)
The Holy Empire(1)
Turori(2)
Valanora(3)
Pemecutan(4)
Banija(5)
Ko-oren(6)

UNDETERMINED POT
Audioslavia(7)- Didn't qualify for the actual World Cup 91 Finals
Cassadaigua(8)- Didn't qualify for the actual World Cup 91 Finals

Leaving, of course, 22 places left to be earned throughout Qualifying. What will those 10 teams do in the mean time? Play each other in a miniature tournament, home and away, with a prize to be determined. Maybe the Eagle's Cup can add a tournament? They can figure that out, but they'll find a way to be Matchday ready for the World Cup.

What about the rest of Qualifying?

Six Qualifying Rounds
Who, and how many, enter at each stage of World Cup Qualifying? Each phase of qualifying, of course, are two-legged ties- just like the Champions Leauge. For the Coulibaly-verse though, we're gonna keep away goals on, because those are far more fun.

It's Easy to Figure out how many teams enter at each stage

FIRST STAGE
The bottom 40 teams will enter at this stage. They will be put into a seeded draw randomly, with the seeded team playing the second leg at home.

SECOND STAGE
There will be 20 winners from the previous stage advancing to the next stage. At this point, the next 32 highest ranked teams would enter at this stage, with a total of 52 teams, including the 20 from the previous round, playing in this round. Just like the Champions League Qualifiers.

THIRD STAGE
Another big addition! Here, we're gonna add another 42 teams- the core of this exercise. Of course, the same rules apply as before. The 42 entrants will join the 26 winners from the previous stage for the biggest round in World Cup Qualifying under our format- a round with a whopping 68 participants- half their World Cup dreams will end, while the other half will move on to the final 3 rounds...

FOURTH STAGE
And now, for the Fourth Qualifying Round! We've got 34 teams who have survived the battles so far. But now is when it gets really tough- a few rounds have a limited number of new entrants, so these lower ranked squads will continue to knock themselves out. Only 8 teams will enter at this stage of World Cup Qualifying. With only eight teams entering at this stage, everybody is unseeded, except the three direct entrants at this stage cannot play each other, and must be at home in the second league.

FIFTH STAGE
And now, for the Fifth Qualifying Round. Just 21 teams remain who have entered so far! And yet, plenty of teams have not entered. Teams at this point would be able to have the World Cup firmly in their sights- just 4 matches away, a pair of home and away ties, from the World Cup Finals. And yet, not many teams would enter here- just 3 teams would enter at this stage, in the penultimate round of World Cup Qualifying. With only three teams entering at this stage, everybody is unseeded, except the three direct entrants at this stage cannot play each other, and must be at home in the second league.

PLAYOFF STAGE
And now, for the Final Qualifying Round- the Playoff Round. We've all been there before. The nerves. Just 2 games to make the World Cup or not. 12 winners, and 32 new entrants, entering at this stage, in the final seeded draw for World Cup Qualifying. That means, for 32 teams, you'll have simply two games to either make or break your World Cup Qualifying campaign. Would anyone be able to handle the pressure?

And that would be the Playoff Round Entrants.

And then... Re-Format the Finals as well!

World Cup Finals Revamp
Just like the Champions League, double round-robin, home and away! And then... The rest goes just like the World Cup. Knockout stages are single leg knockout ties in the host nations, with the top two teams in each group advancing to the knockouts.

What would be the advantages?
1. Less Fixture Congestion. We ask our footballers to play in all sorts of competitions- 35-40 games per domestic season, the IFCF, probably a regional cup as well, maybe a domestic knockout competition, and then 20 World Cup Qualifiers... How many matches is that per World Cup Cycle? The max number of World Cup Qualifiers a team would have under this format is 12, and the vast majority of teams would play a lot less than that, as that would require running the gauntlet.

2. More exciting Qualifiers. Sometimes, you can get bored in the doldrums of Qualifiers. But with every match being part of a 2 legged knockout tie, every game matters. More intensity.

3. More Upsets. What kind of chaos would this bring? Surely, more upsets throughout the process. Over the course of 20 games, there are only a few things that can happen... But over the course of 180 minutes, anything can happen? Who wouldn't love the chaos? Under this format, Qualifying could be as entertaining as the actual tournament itself.

4. Give More fans a chance to see their country in a major tournament. Not everybody is capable of making the journey to the Finals. Of course, not a concern for Banija, whose fans travel well. But bringing the World Cup Finals home to everybody? Who wouldn't love it? The matches we saved by playing far fewer World Cup Qualifiers can be played in the main tournament. Plus, with more group stage games, a better chance of ensuring that only the strongest progress, rather than a single fluke win putting you through to the knockout stages.

What would be the Disadvantages
Too numerous to name. How to figure out rankings with teams playing all sorts of different number of matches? 10 automatic berths in the World Cup Finals, rather than the traditional 2? But this is exactly why we put it under bad idea time.

And this is why, of course, we should run with it. You cannot tell me that the Playoff Round, in this format for World Cup Qualifying, would be the greatest thing you've ever seen. Somebody at the WCC better read this and name me the organizing host Chairman for World Cup 92.

by **Kandorith** » Tue Jun 07, 2022 1:24 pm

Shinonome Kyoai - International

Crossing The Rubicon

The loss of the IKN Hinamoto on June 7th, and the People's Republic of Meiyi's subsequent suspension of diplomatic discussions, represented the highest level of hostilities with Meiyi in over thirty years. According to eyewitness claims and video footage, the People's Republic's naval forces launched an unprecedented attack, provoking a response from the embassy and the Imperial Kandorese Armed Forces. The situation has destabilized as a result of the response and diplomatic level talks, which resulted in nothing but Meiyi defending their stance. Unconfirmed reports of further hostilities have been shared on social media as we stand here now with a message from the Empress, Her Imperial Majesty, Masumi herself. The national anthem was played first, followed by the empress herself, who was joined by the prime minister and the minister of defence by her side.

^{SHARE THIS:}

"Sons and daughters of Tendo, those adored by Manayomi-no-Sakai, I come before you at this important time. Earlier today, in the early morning hours of June 7, the People's Republic of Meiyi's maritime fleet engaged in hostile action against one of our fleet's greatest vessels, the IKN Hinamoto. The aggressors, who declined to identify themselves, were dealt with according to protocol, after which the Meiyi vessel opened fire, aided by a second vessel shadowing the first. This resulted in the destroyer's loss and 28 crewmen, with 52 still missing. This is by far the worst maritime catastrophe for the Kandorese navy in modern times, and an attack on our sovereign nation. While our diplomatic delegation sought answers from the evasive Meiyi administration, our fleet was brought to full readiness and patrols were increased, but to no result. We confirmed reports of the People's Republic forces landing on our remote islands of Hinoki and Arasutsi, invading Kandorese territory and thereby occupying parts of our sovereign Empire.

"I regret to tell our just and peaceful people that, as of 20:00 hours, the Empire of Kanyori is at war with the People's Republic of Meiyi. Diplomatic attempts have failed, and any questions about the Hinamoto incident have fallen on deaf ears as the People's Republic has invaded our sovereign territory. While worldwide communication and objections would be preferable, we must first preserve our sovereignty. Throughout the years, we have been a vibrant force of peace and prosperity in the area, even as the world's balance has shifted around us. No matter where we stand in this ever-changing world, we have always sought rational and peaceful resolutions to disagreements and disputes, even with governments with which we unwillingly collaborate in an effort to repair our strained relations. We are once again asked to confront the potential of long-term struggle, with the agony of breaking free from tyranny still vivid in our collective consciousness.

"Our freedom is our most important collective good, and we will not bow to any demands made by Meiyi concerning our most eastern islands. We've been through the darkness before, and as we rose from the ashes, we saw the light. We will not be beaten, and we will defend our country with pride, solidarity, and collective defence. The enemy has seized a portion of our nation and occupied a section of it, but they will not be able to maintain even the tiniest piece of our God-given territory. Should we be defeated, or falter, we shall be asked to endure a new dark era. A far more horrific dark era, prolonged by perverted science and vision. We will ready ourselves for the impending battle and our duty to the Empire. We will accept the worst that is to come and triumph in the splendour of the moon goddess. The Empire has given you orders to protect our countries, to battle for friends, family, country, and the Emperor. The Empire will last 8,000 years under the watchful eye of Manayomi-no-Sakai."

Prime Minister Yoshiro Murakami formally signs the declaration

Following the Empress's address to the people, Prime Minister Yoshiro Murakami addressed the public briefly before signing the declaration of war, speaking of respecting all attempts at peace and conflict resolution, safeguarding the Kandorese way of life, and guaranteeing public safety. "At this horrible moment, we stand at a juncture in history when we must preserve our nation and our culture once more," Murakami said while addressing the country's military forces. I can guarantee you, commanders, men and women, and courageous souls of our armed forces, that we trust we will win this fight. Under your direction, we will sail into enemy territory with the goal of liberating our captured land and restoring order in our immediate surrounding territory.

"We shall rise again in ancient splendour to fight injustice and oppression, as well as the growing corruption of the Meiyi state, which has shown its real character on this day. We've prepared for this day, and with our most advanced capabilities, we'll take the fight to their armies far from home. We will liberate our islands, and if necessary, we will battle on their coasts, unleashing the rage and wrath of our military machine."

The Kanyori Warmachine one the move

The Kandorese Warmachine awakened in the Empire's harbours within minutes of Her Imperial Majesty and the Prime Minister's speech. The various fleets of the Imperial Kandorese Navy set sail towards the broad waters, accompanied by loud sirens, turbines, and the yelling of commands. The Second Battlegroup, which included the navy's flagship, the IKN Manayomi, embarked from the Hajime Naval Base near Higashu. In front of hundreds of thousands of people, the Kandorese Armed Forces' most huge and proud ships, followed by the most advanced planes, began pulling away from the natural bay of Higashu and Tenkyo, waving the Kandorese flag aloft as the steel beasts churned into battle.

The Imperial Navy will try to strike quickly and decisively with the First through Fifth Battlegroups. The navy's five main battlegroups are geared toward national defence and preventing any attack upon the Empire. The battlegroup's initial goal, using the vast aircraft carriers and amphibious assault ships, will be to reclaim Hinoki and Arasutsi and clear the immediate waterways of any enemy forces. As previously indicated by the Ministry of Defense, if necessary, the battlegroups will be joined by the first and second strike forces to take the battle to the People's Republic of Meiyi's mainland. If this is the case, it will be the Imperial Kandorese Armed Forces' first offensive operation since 1972.

by **Alasdair I Frosticus** » Tue Jun 07, 2022 1:55 pm

A STATEMENT FROM THE HOLY EMPIRE FOOTBALL ASSOCIATION

The Holy Empire Football Association would like to take a moment to counter some claims that have recently been made in Ordinary Reality media. In particular we would like to draw your attention to the recent statement in the Flavovespia Football Daily that 'The Holy Empire have encountered some unusual developments over the course of the qualifiers: growth of additional body parts on the players'.

The World Cup 91 Holy Empire squad is perfectly normal. The players are perfectly normal - albeit highly skilled - footballers. It's true that every member of the squad has been temporarily impacted by the growth of additional body parts due to contact with the dromozoa of Shayol, but HEFA is firmly of the belief that many mundies encounter temporary medical conditions, many of which can lead to disabilities. Indeed, many nations in Ordinary Reality have passed legislation banning discrimination against otherwise perfectly normal individuals due to medical conditions and/or disabilities. We would therefore like to think that our opponents in Group D will treat our completely normal and in no way unusual team with the respect and consideration that they deserve.

We would also like to comment on the final two team members to have grown additional body parts, as we believe that these latest episodes have caused some consternation. Left wingerJohn Pselluso's three extra pairs of external and fully functional wetly pulsating lungs have apparently caused nausea and vomiting among the faint of heart. We take the position that this sort of violent reaction is a form of anti-lungist discrimination, and we expect a statement from the WCC to make it clear that anti-lungism is completely unacceptable. Meanwhile, captain and central midfielder Constantine Lascaro has developed a bifurcated body: one head and neck, one waist and legs - but two torsos between the neck and waist. As yet, we are unclear whether this grants us any advantage or disadvantage, but Juan Tzimisces is said to be studying the situation carefully.

We would close by drawing further attention to the implication in the Flavovespia Football Daily that the dromozoa mutations of the Holy Empire squad confer a benefit on the Empire. Specifically, we note the statement that "from a football perspective, Flavovespia may have to contend with Michael Comneno at set pieces, his new torso giving him unbelievable height, a six legged Romanos Adrianuso, and the leg on the head of Manuel Palaeologo". Be as that may, we posit that any advantages gained from these developments are somewhat offset by the unusual extra hands of Jorge Sphrantzes and Basil Scleruso, and having a midfield substitute who is a literal knob head. Again, we ask for tact and understanding from all teams in Group D in drawing attention to the temporary medical condition of our otherwise perfectly normal squad.

by **Squornshelan Remnant States** » Tue Jun 07, 2022 2:27 pm

Qualify, and Anything can Happen
Salwan Mynhier

With a gutty 1-0 victory in Brantisvogan, the Black-and-Reds saw off Electrum and punched their ticket to Farfadillis for World Cup 91. The Confederacy has now qualified for three of the last four World Cups, earning their way up the rankings and into Pot 3 for the group draw. Here are the teams that await the Black-and-Reds in Group F:

The top seed in the group, Ko-oren, are the World Cup Champions of two cycles ago and the fifth-ranked side in both this World Cup field and the multiverse as a whole. Their notoriously defensive tactics will likely give the Black-and-Reds no small amount of trouble in the opening match. In previous meetings between these nations, however, neither side has been able to gain an advantage. Ko-oren last met with a Confederate team in the group stage of Cup of Harmony 74, nearly two decades ago, where the result was a 2-2 draw. More recently, the Dragonflies met with an Imperial side in the group stage of World Cup 87, where the result was once again a draw, with one goal scored by each side. A few players from that Imperial team are present in this cycles united side: Anthonsson in goal, Nyberg and Loefgren in defense, and Bondarov on the wing. None of them played in that match, however.

Some of this team’s former Imperial players were also on the roster for a pair of meetings with the second seed in the group, Brenecia. Facing Squornshelan opposition twice during World Cup 88 qualifying, the Patriots won a controlled, 1-0 match at home before visiting Vogsphere for a wild 5 all draw. While their football association is nearly bankrupt, and their nation gripped by serious upheaval, the Patriots are still a team to be reckoned with, and picked by most to advance along with Ko-oren. Brenecia are, however, one of the lower-ranked Pot 2 teams, and this final-matchday clash will be an opportunity for the Black-and-Reds to stage an upset and steal a spot in the second round.

Finally, the group’s fourth seed and the Black-and-Reds’ second opponent is a Hapilopper team that, despite being also located in Atlantian Oceania, we have no match history at all with. This will be an opponent that the Black-and-Reds will desperately need to take full points against, particularly if the opener against Ko-oren does not go well. There are certainly no unimportant matches in the World Cup, but the ones against the teams from pots immediately above and below one’s own team do always seem to loom just a bit larger.

In typical Farf fashion, information on accommodation, venues, and transportation has yet to be published by the FFFF. The last time the Black-and-Reds played a tournament in the Outlandish Lands, over 20 years ago in their modern era debut at Baptism of Fire 68, they endured venomous flying jellyfish, last minute venue changes, the constant threat of spontaneous combustion, and other hazards en route to a quarterfinal appearance. A repetition of that result here would make World Cup 91 a huge success for the Confederacy. None of the players from that side remain with the national team today of course, though Jzeovak Vladcik very nearly made it, and is the last player from the BoF 68 roster still playing at all. The lucky (or cursed depending on your perspective) players whom Groothuis has tapped for the trip to Farfadillis are as follows:

Goalkeepers:

#  Player        	Age	Pro.	Club
1  Paiva Shimski  	26  She/Her    AFC Treason
31 Guro Anthonsson	32   He/Him    Chalesm
44 Hekima Drenel  	33  She/Her    North Hall

Left Backs:

#  Player        	Age	Pro.	Club
20 Vasilii Nyberg 	27   He/Him    Santraginus
3  Valda Harkhan  	31  She/Her    Northern Stallions

Right Backs:

#  Player        	Age	Pro.	Club
14 Jirar Malgos   	28   He/Him    Galatica
36 Pirjo Loefgren 	24   He/Him    Tor

Center Backs:

#  Player        	Age	Pro.	Club
4  Walda Harkhan  	31  She/Her    Yassaca
29 Malai Yarlut   	25   She/Her   Goodfeather FC
5  Ljuba Bucvarov 	27  She/Her    René Skaé
24 Aryel Ciernik  	30  She/Her    Algolia

Midfielders:

#  Player        	Age	Pro.	Club
6  Selvala Tabur  	32  She/Her    Torpedo Pavlograd
8  Mithya Hashemi 	28  She/Her    Anomalies
22 Damnagoras     	25 They/Them   Asbury Park FC
18 Purna Zazagan  	28  She/Her    AFC Treason
21 Talia Nisarizo 	27  She/Her    AFC Corvistone
16 Vlart Hedberg  	25   He/Him    Straton FC

Left Wings:

#  Player        	Age	Pro.	Club
40 Thorgnyr Bondarov    26   He/Him    Tropicorp FC
98 Aodaghan Stern 	21   He/Him    Ausharmuj Marusi

Right Wings:

#  Player        	Age	Pro.	Club
7  Ikra Yonte     	28  She/Her    Burnaby SC
70 Arttu Ditou    	24  He/Him	 Brantisvogan

Forwards:

#  Player        	Age	Pro.	Club
17 Kaalia Gerstlauer    32  She/Her    Chalesm
9  Lyzolda Petrov 	34  She/Her    Sabrefell Moths
27 Caitrin Ness   	28  She/Her    Northandryun Rovers
19 Roimata Shehu  	28  She/Her    Raven River

Schedule and Results:

FRND: SRS 2–4 TKT @ Albrechtsson Park (cap. 65,400), Damogran, Algolia, SRS
FRND: SVG 3–2 SRS @ Stadio del Piero, Acqui Bollente, SVG

MD1:  ERM 1-1 SRS @ Daulapura Stadium (cap. 40,000), Daulapura, Daula, ERM
MD2:  SRS 3-5 BNJ @ Radlov Arena (cap. 76,800), Brantisvogan, Megabrantis, SRS
MD3:  QUK 2-1 SRS @ TBA
MD4: 	 BYE
MD5:  SRS 4-1 MIL @ Overburg Arena (cap. 46,222), Damogran, Algolia, SRS
MD6:  EFK 1-2 SRS @ Lake Dal Stadium (cap. 55,900), Kebmot', Ssedbam, EFK
MD7:  SRS 3-1 ALR @ Eichlen Stadium (cap. 37,500), Rudlit, West Flania, SRS
MD8:  LMB 3-2 SRS @ TBA
MD9:  SRS 3-3 SRG @ Civic Arena (cap. 58, 300), Viltvodle, Megabrantis, SRS
MD10: BRO 2-5 SRS @ TBA
MD11: SRS 2-1 MNS @ Killough Grove (cap. 31,400), Han Wavel, Han Dold, SRS
MD12: SRS 4-3 ERM @ Striterax Cybernetics Arena (cap. 64,325), Striterax, Isle of Squornshelous, SRS
MD13: BNJ 3-0 SRS @ The Stadium of the Restoration (cap. 91,835), Busukuma, National Capitol Region, BNJ
MD14: SRS 3-0 QUK @ Zenith Stadium (cap. 58,400), Stavromula, Isle of Squornshelous, SRS
MD15:     BYE
MD16: MIL 2-4 SRS @ TBA
MD17: SRS 3-0 EFK @ Synesoft Arena (cap. 46,950), Syneca, Sivolvia, SRS
MD18: ALR 1-1 SRS @ A field (cap. 100), Lahaira, ALV
MD19: SRS 3-0 LMB @ Smolak Systemy Stadion (cap. 31,200), Sjerezo, Molvania, SRS
MD20: SRG 2-3 SRS @ Estadio Generalissimo Joaquín Delgado (cap. 108,879), Soluca, SRG
MD21: SRS 1-1 BRO @ Emerald Coast Coliseum (cap. 31,200), Vassilian, Algolia, SRS
MD22: MNS 1-2 SRS @ TBA
P/O1: ETM 0-0 SRS @ Olympic Stadium (cap. 100,000), Centralis, ETM
P/O2: SRS 1-0 ETM @ Megabrantid Financial Field (cap. 69,245), Brantisvogan, Megabrantis, SRS

G01: KOR  v  SRS @ TBA, FFD
G02: HAP  v  SRS @ TBA, FFD
G03: SRS  v  BRE @ TBA, FFD

World Come Undone, Part 8
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Earlier in our series, we touched on the impossible position of the civilians caught in between the Imperial Army and the revolutionary forces. For almost two years now, they’ve gone about their lives as best they could, but with the war’s second winter looming, and no end in sight, many decide that enough is enough. It’s time for them to leave.

All across West Squornshelous people gather up their families, or themselves. They pack up what possessions they can carry and set off for the border.

Now, to be clear, emigration from the Imperium is completely illegal. Even temporarily leaving the country requires that you apply for a battery of permits, undergo a thorough interview with the Ministry of Security, and of course, bribe no small number of bureaucrats and officials. The people driven to flee the fighting can afford none of these requirements. They only know that they cannot stay any longer. They must find a way out.

At this point, it’s important to note that the precise geography of Squornshelous has varied somewhat over the past century. The Imperium proper has always been on an island to the east of West Squornshelous on the mainland, but that has not always referred to the same mainland. Today, the nation can be found in northern Atlantian Oceania, but as recently as five years ago the mainland was located in the West Pacific, while the Isle of Squornshelous was found in a pocket dimension consisting solely of itself, albeit with occasionally stable gateways leading to the seas around the Confederacy. That situation is also different from the one that faced the refugees seeking a way out of the war zone.

Detailed maps from that era are exceedingly difficult to come by, but it is generally held that Squornshelous was relatively isolated at the time. The so-called Paradise Beach geographical era, marked by close borders with bygone nations including Normack, North-east Europe, Nyborg, and Sparren had ended some years prior to the war’s outbreak, and it is not immediately clear what nations could be found beyond the Molvanian steppes and mountains to the far West. Neither is it known how far it was at that time over the southern and eastern seas to reach friendly shores. The only thing certain is that fleeing north, into arctic seas, was a non-option.

So much for our review of metaphysically unstable geography. One constant in Squornshelous has been an extensive coastline and long-standing seagoing tradition. Finding boat captains willing and able to bear refugees over the sea was not an easy task by any means, but certainly not an impossible one either. Evading the Imperial Navy and Coast Guard was another story. At first, patrolling cutters and destroyers would take any refugees and boat crews determined to be attempting to flee into custody and the boats either impounded or sunk. Those people were most often labeled as rebel sympathizers and interned in remote reeducation and labor camps. Later in the war, there are accounts of the Navy, frustrated with their inability to impact the fighting on land, simply opened fire. The vast number of ships and patrol aircraft at the Navy’s disposal, and the absence of much else for them to do meant that relatively few boats made it past their cordon.

For most people, fleeing by land was a less daunting prospect. True, it meant navigating ones way across hundreds of miles of heavily patrolled roads and checkpoints. It required secret paths and tunnels, forged documents and safehouses, but the same networks that allowed revolutionary troops to move from place to place were also turned to this task, and numerous secret paths connecting the major population centers with Molvania had emerged by the war’s second winter.

Once in Molvania, the Imperium’s farthest flung and most tenuously held province, things were generally easier for the refugees. Large portions of the countryside were essentially denied to the Imperials by the ever-present threat of rebel attack. The large, heavily-armed and armored patrols that the army did occasionally launch moved so slowly that they usually found nothing of either refugees or the revolutionaries ferrying them along, which was probably exactly how most of the rank and file soldiers liked it, however furious their officers became.

It was not all smooth sailing, even once into Molvania. The final obstacle before reaching the border was the Western Steppes, miles and miles of open country with few trees and little in the way of cover. By now this area was regularly patrolled by aircraft. It is in an effort to move a large party of refugees across the steppes near Dzrebo that former Squornshelan national-teamer Zlatko Topic, by now a prominent leader in the Molvanian resistance, is believed to have been killed. In command of two dozen revolutionaries escorting some 50-odd refugees, Topic was supposed to rendezvous and hand off the escort duty to another revolutionary cell. No one arrived at the rendezvous point, however, and no remains were ever discovered. Topic is just one of many, many thousands of people who to this day are still simply listed as “missing.”

Whether Topic and his party escaped over the border somehow, or whether they met their end there on the Molvanian steppe, the war is over for them. For those left behind, another bitter winter under rationing looms, and beyond that, only more fighting on the horizon.

by **Huayramarca** » Tue Jun 07, 2022 3:50 pm

The match of Huayramarca vs Ancherion was on half time break, the same as the other matches in Group 5 for the end of the Qualifiers. Huayramarca was trailing Sarzonia for the quest of first place of the group, henceforth, automatic qualification for the World Cup 91 Finals and the players were a bit anxious, it was notable as some of them took out their smartphones to check how the match of Cassadaigua and Sarzonia was developing. “3-3 tie, we are second and there’s no other choice than do or dying tonight.” Said Bryan Tello to the players, Rodolfo Zelaya managed to listen and carefully told Tello “My man, leave that phone in peace and let’s rest for the second half, shall we?” Tello left the phone in his backpack, then Zelaya began speaking “Rule N°1093 of football: Focus on your job, do your best and let the others rest in peace.” Silence in the room as Omar Caicedo was about to talk too.

Caicedo then followed-up Zelaya “We need to win, that’s all. We have to correct some issues in the last third of the field, we’re being too imprecise with the final touch; we’re trying to dribble for too long. Shoot the ball! If you have a chance, just shoot and don’t complicate yourselves!” That’s because Huayramarca had significant possession during the first half, 65-35 but the Condors were unable to shot or provide a key pass to a foe and score, not because Ancherionites were providing a defence masterclass, it was matter of nerves. “Y’all are extremely nervous… Inhale, hold your breathe for 30 seconds and then exhale, repeat it thrice!” said Zelaya while he played, from his phone, ”El Árbol de mi Destino” a Serrano folk song, the kind of music that a lot of people tend to use to relax themselves while stressed.

Omar Caicedo continued speaking “There’s 45 minutes left, don’t focus on your rivals, forge your own destiny in the pitch, it’s matter of scoring a goal and holding it up if you want, or even trying to achieve another goal. We are even closer than ever to achieve more history, a second World Cup Qualification in a row, our first time going automatically to the Football’s Greatest Rendezvous (a literal translation from the Spanish expression “La Cita Más Importante del Fútbol”, slang for the World Cup in Huayramarcan media). We can continue this path, forging more victories and growing as a team as we have been doing through the last seven years, we have been together; remember when we visited Nephara on our first WCQ, when we saw them from below? Now, performance-wise, are completely different from what we used to do, it’s time to prove it once again in the pitch!”

The team ended the breathing exercises, they were decided to fight to get the qualification for the World Cup, all what they needed was to secure a lead and play conservatively no matter what, as they needed the win in order to have an actual chance to get through; granted, Sarzonia has to lose to Cassadaigua too. With the very same impetus, Huayramarca fielded and tried to generate some dangerous occasions against the Ancheronite goalkeeper, Bryan Tello tested them at the 48th minute with a solid shot that was saved by their goalie. The home side managed to get a chance almost immediately, they ran through the wing and crossed the ball, they didn’t found their striker, hence Santiago Chumacero passed the ball to Ian Mamani, the captain crossed the ball to Abraham Mendoza, the winger crossed the ball and found Byran Tello; the striker did what he’s used to do, gently nodded the ball and scored his 21st goal of the qualifier, a personal record for him in any World Cup Qualifier, even considering the prolific WC 90 Qualifier he had. 5 minutes into the second half and they’ve already done it, Caicedo and Zelaya told the players to keep calm, be prudential and avoid any kind of mistakes in a critical moment for the team.

Ian Mamani muttered to Orlando Mina “keep it moving, let’s hold possession and be conservatives with the ball, shall we?” Tempo keeping was going to happen at the will of the captain of the Condors, moving the ball from one side to the other, in a rather boring way for the home fans but entertaining for the couple of Huayramarcans present in the stands “Ole! Ole! Ole” they chanted at every pass; the rivals weren’t able to recover the ball for some minutes as the Condors tried to keep their goal advantage. Caicedo continued yelling “Move the ball more!” while Zelaya casually browsed on his tablet, secretly, the score of the Sarzonia’s match, he still saw 3-3 on the screen, which was rather good for Huayramarca if they could continue handling the game as they have been doing so far. Bryan Tello managed to pass a ball for Abraham Mendoza but the winger blew the ball over the crossbar, then Zelaya noticed a 4 in his tablet, it was another Dagan goal.

Things, however, changed a bit as the Ancherionites pressed the Huayramarcan midfield harder, as their strikers decided to sacrifice their opportunist role, or as they call it in Mytanija, a”poacher” and were resolute on forcing Ian Mamani or Orlando Mina to commit a mistake and recover possession. Their attempts weren’t working as Nicolás Allauca decided to help Mamani, acting as a shield when needed in order to sabotage those pressure attempts. As everything on life, if you persist you might have a chance, that’s something that the local side tried to do during the last 15 minutes of the game, their midfield recovered a ball and proceeded to move forward with some series of passes from one side to the other, enough to let their striker break free from Kevin Quispe’s mark and causing a 1v1 with Juan Mamani. The Goalkeeper was careful enough to slide tackle the ball and punt it away, but the local striker tried to fake a foul and the stadium claimed a penalty kick…

No penalty kick was given, Omar Caicedo jumped and made serious gestures to Juan Mamani while screaming “Think about what you’re doing and its consequences!” “Don’t be foolish!” Mamani tried to remain in the grass, faking an injury so the referee would mark an offence foul against the locals. It worked, the referee also showed a yellow card to the Ancherionite player for faking a dive, which obviously led to Juan Mamani to smile despite faking an injury, the referee noted it and told him “You’re OK! Keep playing or I’ll card you.” Mamani get on his feet by his own, slowly, to slow down the game. 4 minutes remaining, Huayramarca once again decided to use the ball-keeping tactic to delay the game by force, the locals tried to be more physical against the Condors but didn’t work as Orlando Mina and Byran Tello teamed up to protect the ball, a clever idea to rely on two of the strongest men that the team has.”

Zelaya decided to refresh his Fútbol365 app (A Huayramarcan score-keeping app for matches across the Multiverse) to check the score in the other decisive match of the night, it was pleasure for his eyes as he saw Cassadaigua 7-3 Sarzonia – 87’ – He walked towards Caicedo and showed him, the manager punched the air with his fist in happiness. Caicedo decided to lowkey tell the players what was going on, so he screamed to Ian Mamani “Keep it going, it’s already done!” then Huayramarca had a final chance through a run from Gabriel Sayritupac in the right wing, he crossed the ball to Bryan Tello, he passed the ball to Mendoza who shot the ball against the post, had a rebound but the goalkeeper managed to save his goal once again.

The fourth referee raised his substitution board that displayed a big 5 in a red-sort-of-bloody colour, Caicedo was happy and asked Zelaya to show the score to the bench, so they would be ready to celebrate if Huayramarca managed to keep the lead in the match. Zelaya walked and showed to everybody in the bench the score, he asked for discretion but some of they weren’t able to keep composure, water was thrown among players, they started to walk out of the bench and fielded in the line to wait for the end of the match. Ancherion didn’t knew anything but they wanted to end the qualifier with a good result, that’s why they pressed until the last minute with a mid-range shot to Juan Mamani, the keeper controlled the ball and tried to waste some seconds, the referee yellow-carded him but he didn’t care about it.

Time was up and the bench was making signals to the referee to finish the game, since time has already been gone; he continued with the game for one more minute due to time-wasting. “Zelaya screamed “Finish this for good!” but it didn’t, Huayramarca was in control of the ball and decided to try a last shot to goal, the referee whistled and the match ended. The bench ran through the field while the players in the pitch weren’t aware of anything until the stadium’s voice said “We congratulate the Huayramarcan National Team for achieving qualification to the World Cup.” Zelaya showed his tablet and Bryan Tello read it “Cassadaigua 7-3 Sarzonia” he then said “We’re going to the World Cup!” while jumping, the team then realised that they qualified automatically with this win, then the celebration began.

Meanwhile, in Huayramarca, party began as entire neighbourhoods and cities’ skies were brightened up, suddenly, with tons of fireworks; streets flooded with fans honking and waving Huayramarcan flags on their cars and Marta Mamani, the president, stablishing a national holiday for the day after. It was already 10:50 p.m. in the Coast and Sierra, 11:50 p.m. on jungle and 9:50 p.m. in the Islands, night was about to begin since fans decided to flood restaurants to celebrate or bars with friends. Some others would wait the interviews with players and the manager to began their celebration at home.

La Fantás, Farfadillis - WC Finals Matchday 1.

It was that time, again, it could be the second time for the Condors to qualify for a World Cup, still, they continue to live it like it is the first time and happiness is always there; that’s something that Omar Caicedo loves about the team, they enjoy what they do. As the team was lunching and getting ready for the first match against the hosts, La Vherderroja, Farfadillis in what it would be a quite interesting setup for the Condors, as they would face a team with lots of tradition in their backs, in their home soil and in their World Cup; Caidedo also noticed confidence in the players, Tello was chatting with his family, the Mamani brothers were playing board games with most of the team as they’ve already finished the technical conversation that Caicedo is used to do prior to any match.

He then closed his eyes and then imagined La Fantás, jampacked, the Farves on the stands and the big chunk of Huayramarcans that also made the trip to support their national team; then he saw police officers trying to spray tear gas at some local fans who were trying to throw chairs to the field, the classy behaviour of Farves when it comes to their beloved Freitball, he told the players “You see those Farves? They don’t exist for us! They’re gone and they can’t press us or distract from our game! Play as usual, play with dignity and go for it like you did it in the Vilitan Cove!” He opened his eyes and saw the staff and players boarding the bus, he ran as he was thinking “Another episode of epiphany for sure…” he continued thinking “Let’s focus on our duties, in our responsibilities and in ourselves only; keep doing our game, impose our style in the field and attack as much as we can since it is the best defence. They’ll be pressured strongly, let’s take advantage of that for our own benefit.”

The bus arrived to La Fantas, the players were escorted by a Banijan private security service into the stadium as the Farves were trying to intimidate the Huayramarcans, but the players didn’t cared as Bryan Tello was sharing to them some Salsa Choque. They entered into the room and then Tello said ”¡Alisten motores, que llegó el día! Armemos una party bacana” (Get ready, the day has come! Let’s make a good party). The players were dancing to chill out meanwhile the fans entered to the stadium and the managers prepared what was needed to warm-up and go for a last talk. The players went to the pitch and they were instantly booed by most of the oversold stands in La Fantás, then Ian Mamani screamed to Tello ¡Qué sabroso!” (Tasty!) and the team started their routine as usual.

Zelaya was giving some instructions as Caicedo was thinking about what to say in the last conversation, although he had already decided to ask his players to “have fun in the pitch, to enjoy what they are used to do, to make Huayramarca proud once again!” The players warmed up while the fans in the stands were preparing themselves to receive the Huayramarcan National Team during the protocol events such as the National Anthems and more of it, this time was rather unique since people were noticing a tifo in the works in the stands reserved for Huayramarcan fans, it was rolled and set to be shown in full splendor for the right moment.

Omar Caicedo told the players “Do it for your family! Do it for Huayramarca! Make those 36 million souls proud of your efforts! Ignore the Farves there, just listen the chants from La Banda de la Alpaca as they will be extremely noisy supporting you. Nothing more to say aside from the usual, enjoy the game and show what are you capable to do, this is the right stage to do so!” The team walked to the pitch, fielded to sing the National Anthem of Huayramarca and the fans began to sing proudly while burning flares. The most expected moment of the anthem came, people then screamed Tus hijos juramos defender, hasta la última gota de sangre, tu libertad then, a gigantic tifo with a picture of Túpac Amaru was shown, the fans cheered and Caicedo then said “Let’s do this, guys. Let’s go!”

by **Farfadillis** » Tue Jun 07, 2022 4:28 pm

“Alright, guys, glad to see you’ve all made it here safe and sound. Very sorry about your cousin, Dieje. I’m sure he fought the good fight to get you here, and that kraken will definitely get a mild indigestion due to the sheer balls currently in, uh, his stomach. Krakens have stomachs, right?”

Most of the team nodded solemnly. The rest had no idea.

“Anyway, feel free to wander around at your own peril. The non-Ferdullaelans probably want to stick around with one of Dieje, Ecésar and me, though. I’ll be headed for the hotel, so anybody who’s not feeling adventurous should just follow me.” The gaffer announced as he turned around and began walking. The non-Ferdullaelans all followed him. Dieje went the other way; he’d mentioned something about visiting family. Ecésar decided to go for a walk.

The ’port’ they’d met at was one Ecésar recognized; he was sure it wasn’t more than fifteen blocks away from his childhood home. He figured he might as well walk around town for old time’s sake. He hadn’t been there since signing for Ausharmuj Marusi; his relatives were all dead by then so there wasn’t much point in visiting. In case you’re wondering: mother, gunshot wound, father, gunshot wound, sister, fire, brother, gunshot wound on fire.

His first stop was, naturally, at Mr. Lanigué’s. It took some head-scratching to get there, but after ten minutes he finally stumbled upon the route leading there. A three-block walk had turned into a ten-block walk, sure, but he had time to spare.

Upon arrival, he rang the old-school bell with a characteristically graceless motion, coming close to—but not quite—breaking it in the process. Mr. Lanigué was apparently taking his time before making his way to the door. Ecésar gave the bell another good old shaking for good measure.

After a minute, Lanigué’s unmistakable wine-induced raspiness was finally heard. “Who the fuck is it don’t you know it’s siesta ti—” He paused as he reached the door, managing to get a peek through the window. “Oh, Cés, boy, long time no see!” Mr. Lanigué shouted after swinging the door open, but not without first having quickly and recklessly put his machine gun away. “What takes you here, little boy?”

“Not much, Mr. We’re playing our first game at La Fantás, so I figured I’d walk around town and visit some old friends. How’s the old business going? Do people still buy food nowadays?” He asked, trying to inject some humor into his tone of voice.

“Yes, they do. We’re not doing quite that badly, thank you very much.” The man chuckled. “Anyway, whenever the biker gangs take the foot off the pedal with the tributes, things go fine. When they press the pedal to the metal, though, things get tough for a time. Things go back to being ok shortly thereafter though, cause they take it a little too literally. You know, psychophysical parallelism.”

“Silly biker gangs and their disproportionately high motor vehicle fatality rate per year. Some things don’t change, old man!” The two shared a hearty chuckle. Nothing raises one’s spirits better than biker gangster deaths en-masse. “Anyway, how’s the old Mrs. doing?”

Angst immediately crept across his face. “She’s left us, unfortunately.” Ecésar immediately frowned.

“Very sorry to hear that, was it one of the biker gangs?”

“Oh, no, no, she’s not dead. She just left us. The dog and I. Last I heard she was doing well.” Mr. Lanigué crossed his arms and looked to the side.

“Oh, okay. I hope you don’t mind me saying that’s a relief to here.” Mr. Lanigué shrugged in response. “May I ask what the cause for divorce was? You seemed inseparable back in the days.”

Mr. Lanigué was clearly trying to not let his frustration show. Reluctantly, he offered an answer. “She was not supportive of some of my investments. They went wrong and she left.”

Just as Mr. Lanigué was finishing that last sentence, Ecésar noticed his shirt. The background was black and it featured a caricature of a bored ape at its center. Ecésar chose not to inquire further. He glanced at his watch, quickly realizing he’d gotten his mental math off by four hours. Maybe he didn’t have that much time to spare after all. He absent-mindedly reached for his pocket, pulling out a wad of bills. “I’ve got to get going, old man, it’s been great to see you. Sorry about the old Mrs.” Mr. Lanigué’s eyes went wide as he stared at the money. “And yeah, that should get you through the winter, hopefully. If the going gets tough feel free to send me an email and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Messenger pigeon’s the best I can do.”

“Right, sorry.” He gently patted Mr. Lanigué on the back. “Should’ve figured. Anyway, I should get going.”

“Don’t waste your time visiting Old Helgana or Mr. Guarsé, by the way.”

Ecésar braced himself. “Are they in, uh, a better place?”

“Yeah... they escaped to Banija. You could visit them when you play Busukuma.”

Ecésar smiled. “Thanks for the heads up, old man. Take care!” He said as he turned around to continue touring his childhood.

by **Drawkland** » Tue Jun 07, 2022 4:52 pm

E N D L E S S . . .

"We're not supposed to jump across, are we?" Andrew Arrowsword stared across the small ravine in front of him and Liam Penderyn.

"That's much too far for anybody to jump." Liam leaned forward to take a closer look at the ravine. The cavern the Cenian duo walked through had abruptly ended in a small ledge, opening up to a skinny ravine. Across the ravine there was clearly another cave entrance. Maybe one day there was a bridge between the openings, or maybe it had always been a gap. Either way, there didn't seem to be a way across.

"Well, how deep is this ravine?" Andrew crouched and held his oil lantern over the edge to illuminate the bottom of the ravine. As it happened, the bottom of the ravine was only ten feet below the ledge where the couple was standing.

"Oh, that's not very far. Do you think we could climb to the other side?" Liam pointed at the wall next to the other ledge. "It seems like we could climb up there, since the wall of the ravine is so craggy."

"It definitely looks like it. Let's hop down from here and go across then?" Andrew suggested. "I'll go first, and you follow me."

Andrew got his things together, clipping his lantern to his pack. He carefully slid with his legs over the edge, then dropped off the edge. He landed with a skittering of rocks, but immediately indicated he was fine. Liam was getting his pack together in a similar manner, but suddenly he heard a noise. He looked across the ravine, and his heart dropped immediately.

"Liam? What's wrong?" Andrew asked, seeing his boyfriend suddenly freeze.

"SHH!" Liam replied. On the opposite ledge was some sort of creature, a big fuzzy thing with huge teeth that looked like a bear, if you fed a bear nothing but cocaine for three months straight. It had piercing eyes that reflected the low glow from Liam's lantern. Andrew turned around and saw what Liam was looking at. He, too, was frightened into silence.

"Do you have a ranged weapon or something?" Liam hissed desperately. He had gotten a short sword in their TiSoFaH travels, but he didn't want to get close enough to the creature to use it. Liam looked down for a moment and could tell Andrew was thinking the exact same thing.

"How are we going to get past that?" Andrew asked, almost rhetorically. He started looking at the ground. There didn't seem to be any other cave entrances across the ravine, and the only thing around him were assorted rocks and pebbles.

Liam's mind raced. What could he possibly do to hurt this thing? He could feel they were running out of time to think, too. The creature leaned forward, sniffing, and peering into the ravine. It had definitely caught sight of Andrew at this point. If only Liam could hit it from a distance with something ... oh wait!

"Andrew!" Liam called out. "Throw me a rock from down there."

"You're going to toss a rock at this thing? That's just going to piss it off!"

"I'm not going to throw it," Liam shrugged off his pack and opened the big pocket closest to him. He pulled out his favored tool by the handle: a custom-made tennis racquet, just like the ones he used in the NSTT circuit. He had brought one with his quest equipment for sentimental value, he didn't think it would actually come in handy. In this situation though, it might be his only chance of killing this beast.

"Oh," Andrew breathed when he saw Liam pull out his racquet. He immediately started looking at the floor for good sized rocks. Something big enough to do damage but small enough to be hit with plenty of force. He found a couple and tossed them up to Liam on the ledge.

Liam didn't hesitate, because he could tell the creature was looking for a way to get off the opposite ledge and probably rip out Andrew's innards. He got the first stone from Andrew, got in his traditional service stance, and let it fly. He winced a bit as the rock skittered off the ledge, not even hitting the creature. It perked its ears and looked back up at Liam, its eyes piercing right through him.

Thankfully, Andrew had another rock and tossed it up. Liam took another whack at it, and this rock hit the creature's side. It bounced off, not appearing to bother the creature at all.

"I need more!" Liam yelled, figuring whispering wasn't going to make a difference at this point. Andrew was having a hard time finding good rocks in the ravine and was frantically searching for some debris that would prove useful. "Andrew!" Liam yelled again.

"Sorry!" Andrew replied, tossing another rock up. Liam grabbed it, blew a deep breath, and threw the rock into the air. It was just like faulting the first serve - forget the velocity and just get the ball onto the target. Hitting a weird bear-like creature's head is a little different from hitting a tennis ball into the service court. There was no time to stress about that though, just go through the motions and thunk!

The rock knocked right off the creature's skull. Liam had hit it on the forehead, and it was clearly dazed. That bought them a little extra time, but Liam knew he needed to hit it again.

"One more!" Liam begged, and Andrew once again was left scrambling to find another good stone. After a few agonizingly long seconds, Andrew found a perfect stone. It was smooth on one side and roughly the size of a tennis ball, though a little heavier. Andrew ran back to under the ledge and tossed the ball to Liam.

Liam snagged the stone, appreciated the size and shape, and calmly went back into the motion. Toss, hop, swing, thwack, a perfect kick serve. The rock zipped across the ravine going the speed of a typical Liam Penderyn serve on tour ... and struck the creature right between the eyes. There was a somewhat disgusting crunching noise, and the creature fell limp. It was leaning too far forward off the ledge, and the blow caused it to shift forward and fall to the ravine floor.

If it wasn't dead, it was definitely down for the count. Liam and Andrew both gave yells in celebration, and proceeded to scramble to the now-vacant cave entrance on the other side of the ravine.

"Great shot," Andrew grinned, and gave Liam a peck on the cheek.

"I just hope that was worth it. Those rocks have totally torn up my strings!" Liam laughed, but his mind was clouded with fear. This was already a close call. What more did the maze have in store for them?

"All I'm saying is that you should have this holstered! It was a wicked move, and it's not like I need bug spray down here." Jack Hoy was holding the can of bug spray Leo Cross had used to blow up the phantom that had chased the Grid Corps guys earlier.

"We're lucky the fireball didn't blow all of us up." Leo insisted. "It was a lucky move, and I don't want to try it again."

"Just keep it on you, man!" Jack shook the can in front of Leo for effect. "Better to have it and not need it than vice versa."

"Fine." Leo snatched the can and placed it in an open pocket on the side of his pack. "If we all die in a huge explosion then I'm blaming you in the afterlife."

"I accept that!" Jack bowed his head in mock reverence.

"That would be some way to go out, though." Riley Hoyt grinned. "Fighting some creature on an adventure like this, and going out on our own terms? That's the stuff of legends."

"I'll say. It's too bad nobody else would get to see it, because I bet that would make for a killer song." Jack started playing air guitar and headbanging as he walked down the cavern path. He wasn't looking in front of him, and thus didn't see what was coming next.

"Jack!" Leo and Riley yelled, but before the running back could react, he tripped and fell into a small hole in the tunnel floor. In an instant, he disappeared, and the cave floor slid back into place, leaving no trace. It's like the maze just swallowed him up, and he was gone in the blink of an eye.

"Guess it's just you and me?" Riley chuckled nervously.

"Indeed." Leo sighed. "I hope that's not the last we see of him. Let's just keep moving."

Katie Madison had been wandering alone through the caves of the maze for a long time by now. She had already gone through all the stresses in her mind, gone through all the memories that popped up, gone through all the possible strategies for getting all the way through the maze. At this point, she was getting a little bored. Sure, she had to navigate some tough spots in the caverns and corridors, and run into some dead ends, but she hadn't faced real conflict for hours, if not days. She hadn't even heard a sound that wasn't her own footsteps in such a long time that she was certain she might be going a little crazy.

That is, until she heard echoes coming in front of her in the cave. It was just slight at first, and she stopped to listen. It was the unmistakable sound of human voices. Well, probably. Katie was still partially unconvinced of the fantasy creatures that supposedly lived in the maze, but she wasn't going to make any assumptions now. She had been wandering alone for so long it was reasonable that it could be an auditory hallucination, or something. Still, the sounds of voices were getting closer.

Katie crept along the side of the wall, and realized she was coming to a chamber where many tunnels and corridors met. A crossroads, of sorts. The voices were louder, surely if they were coming from a real source they were in there. She instinctively put her hand to her hip. If there was going to be a fight, she was going to be ready. She crept ever closer, masking the sound of her feet, until she was near enough to make out the words. When she did, she relaxed.

"We don't have to stress that much about which path to take," Jaxon Madison's voice rang out. "As long as we play everything safe, we'll get where we need to go."

"But it's still a maze, right? Shouldn't we avoid running into dead ends if possible?" Allison Summers replied.

"Have you been keeping track of the paths you've been taking? Do you have a map going?" Jaxon asked, with a little bit of sarcasm in his voice. "Let's just pick this one."

"No need, I've already walked down it." Katie stepped into view from her tunnel, standing with her arms crossed and a cocked eyebrow.

"Katie!" Jaxon and Allison both exclaimed at once. Allison's was one of relief, Jaxon's was one of indignation.

"Wait, are you real?" Allison suddenly asked, remembering the maze's penchant for mind games. "Is she just a hallucination?"

"In the flesh." Katie replied before Jaxon could say something. "I told you that you could trust me. Look at us, all back together!"

Jaxon scowled a bit but didn't say anything. Katie came forward and gave Allison a hug. Jaxon knew that a lecture or anything like that wasn't going to help. Last time he gave one Katie just shrugged it off and it ended up splintering the group even further.

"Now that I'm back and able to take charge," Katie started once her and Allison broke away from the embrace, "I say we take that path. It looks different from any of the civilized-looking hallways I've seen before."

"Sounds good to me!" Allison was just glad she wouldn't have to second-guess her own choices.

"Fine," Jaxon said simply. The trio started to go down the hallway, but suddenly Jaxon stopped.

"What's up?" Allison asked immediately. Katie turned around a moment later, a little annoyed.

"We're being followed." Jaxon turned back around to look at the anteroom they had just stepped out of. Sure enough, a pair of eyes stared out of one of the tunnels.

"Do we have to fight?" Allison nervously grabbed at the sword hilt on her waist which she had little capability of using effectively. Jaxon drew his own sword, and a humanoid figure stepped out from the tunnel, carrying some sort of blade in its right hand.

"Begone!" Jaxon yelled at the figure, but it just started running towards the trio. "Guess it's a fight-" he started to say, but he was cut short.

BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. Four shots, earsplittingly loud in the confined space, rang out. The humanoid figure crumpled to the ground.

BANG. BANG. Katie stepped forward and delivered two more slugs into the figure's head and back. She let there be a moment of silence, carefully watching to make sure the figure wasn't moving anymore, and let out a deep breath.

"What the fuck is THAT?" Jaxon gaped incredulously.

"A gun?" Katie replied simply. She dropped her arms from the secure shooting stance, and brought the handgun closer to switch out the magazine. "You said there's no electricity allowed in this world. Guns aren't electronic, are they?"

"I ... wow." Jaxon was at a loss for words, and Allison was silent as well. Jaxon was secretly a little pissed he had never thought of that, but he wasn't going to say anything to suggest that.

"Jealous?" Katie shot a devastating smirk directly at Jaxon.

"I'll let you know how I feel once my ears stop ringing."

Nicole Warren was starting to get worried. Well, she'd been worried for the past month and a half, but now she was feeling an extra shot of anxiety flowing through her. Sure, they'd lost the Grid Corps guys in the first minute of being in the maze, but she figured those rambunctious guys would've gotten themselves separated at some point anyway. She didn't know a lot about them, but she knew they were tenacious and cocky. Perhaps too much so to make it through the maze alive, but they would hold their own for awhile. Maybe they'd meet up again, maybe they were already dead, but Nicole didn't have enough room in her head to spend time worrying about them.

She did feel a bit worse about the loss of Andrew and Liam. Sure, they didn't know for sure if they died, but having a literal ton of gravel dropped on top of you doesn't have the best outlook. Nicole knew that Sarah was the most torn up about it, but thankfully they'd been walking and talking long enough that it seemed Sarah was no longer overwhelmingly depressed about the loss. Again, she didn't think they would've been split up so soon, relatively speaking. In retrospect, splitting up to search the big ravine was a bad idea.

On the other hand, Nicole fully expected Katie and Allison to be splintered off, but not how soon it would happen, nor how sudden or fierce it would be. The maze didn't split them up, Katie decided to do it herself. Worst of all, she had taken Jaxon with her. Not intentionally, in fact, it seemed that Katie was more annoyed Jaxon came with her than Nicole was for him leaving. She knew that Jaxon wasn't going to be able to carry them all across the finish line, but his experience and expertise was a safety net that Nicole was loath to go without. She had plenty of knowledge and preparation in her notes, but it only means so much. The maze is not so easily beaten.

Yet, through all of this, the core trio had stuck together. Nicole, Cam, and Sarah were still traversing the caverns and corridors, nearly connected at the hip. It was just like Nicole had hoped it would be once she realized Cam wasn't going to let her go alone. This is where the worry was really setting in. There's no way the maze would just let them make it all through together as a team. The maze loved isolation. It preyed on it, it feasted on the terror and indecision and lack of support. Nobody makes it through the maze without spending some time alone, as far as Nicole had been told.

So when was the other shoe going to drop?

"Hey, Nicole?" Cam broke the silence the girls had been walking in for some time. "Can you get out your notebook?"

"Sure," Nicole replied, fishing the book from where it was strapped on her pack. "What for?"

"I'm just curious." Cam scratched the back of her head, unclear on what to say. "I just don't know what else we have to deal with. I thought we were going to have to fight monsters and deal with dangerous traps and stuff."

"Surely," Sarah started, then hesitated. "Surely the gravel thing was a trap? We only have to pass all the various challenges once, right?"

"Not necessarily. Some go through the maze only experiencing every challenge once, some have to face certain challenges many times before they finally get through or perish. We really can't be sure that we're done until we reach the center." Nicole found the page she was looking for and pored over her notes while walking.

"Do you know how long anybody's been in the maze before making it out?" Cam asked. "I mean, I've been a bit hungry or thirsty, but it feels like we've been spelunking for days. I haven't even felt the need to sleep, even though that feels impossible."

"Iarocav told me that the longest recorded time spent in the maze was well over a year, probably two. It's harder to keep track in here."

"No kidding." Sarah blew a stray hair out of her face and secured it behind her ear. "We're not going to be stuck in here that long though, are we? Even though we barely have to eat or drink, we're going to run out eventually."

"The average time for those that survive is in the few weeks to a month range." Nicole shrugged. "I told you guys before the trip to make sure your bills are on autopay for like half a year just in case."

The trio walked without speaking for another few minutes, and the cave-like tunnel gave way to a larger, carved hallway.

"I'm just starting to get worried that we're not facing a lot of challenges right now, besides the insane amount of walking we're doing." Cam gestured vaguely to the tunnel ahead, which seemed to turn a corner in the distance.

"Yeah, it really feels like every step we take, the chances of something bad happening increases exponentially." Sarah knocked on her head to ward away any bad luck from mentioning it.

"It's best to just say alert." Nicole tried her best to sound confident. "The maze does things on its own schedule, and the best we can do is be ready for anything at any time."

Once again, the group wandered through the corridor in silence, save for their footsteps on the smooth floor. Nicole and Cam were walking side-by-side, with Sarah taking the rear a couple steps behind. The corner of the hallway was now less than fifty feet in front of them.

Sarah felt like something was off. She cocked her head, listening, but didn't hear anything besides their footsteps. Just as she shook her head in resignation, there was a slight sound again. Nicole and Cam didn't seem to react, so Sarah said nothing. She didn't want to seem paranoid, especially after Nicole had just advised them to stop being paranoid. It was probably just the maze playing tricks, or her imagination, or something.

Then she heard the sound again. It was a slight scraping, like rubbing rocks together. Sarah whipped her head behind her, and saw that the tunnel they were walking through had been blocked off behind them. She thought nothing of it, though. It wasn't the first time the path they'd just walked through was blocked off after they passed. Just the maze being tricky, again.

The scraping sound came again, barely perceptible, but this time closer. Sarah looked around again, and saw the ceiling of the hallway slide down and silently slam into the ground, blocking the way. It was much closer than it had been just a second ago. The sliding sound came again, directly above Sarah, and she connected the dots a moment too late.

"The ceiling!" It's all Sarah could get out before she leapt into action. The roof above the girls had started sliding, and it was about to crush all three of them like a trash compactor. Sarah dashed forward, and extended her arms. Before Cam and Nicole could react, Sarah had pushed them forward and out of the path of the sliding wall. Sarah, on the other hand, couldn't get far enough forward to escape the huge block of stone.

"Sarah!" Cam and Nicole gasped in unison, and Sarah responded with a bloodcurdling scream. She'd been far enough along to avoid being swallowed up entirely, but the bottom half of her right leg had been crushed under the massive block of stone.

Nicole and Cam both rushed back to Sarah to try and pull her free, but the weight of the stone was too much. Her leg was trapped, and no matter how hard the other girls pulled, Sarah's body wouldn't budge. Sarah herself was white as a sheet of paper, barely able to think over the pain of her leg getting flattened. Despite this, there was something in the forefront of her mind. The others had to get out.

"Y-you have t-to go," Sarah wheezed. "It's g-going to crush you."

"I'm not leaving you!" Cam insisted.

"G-go." Sarah said with all the authority she could muster. "I'm done. You still have a ch-chance."

"Cam," Nicole managed to say, tearing up. "Cam."

"I can't leave you here!" Cam said again, but Nicole was already pulling her away. Sarah looked up, she could hear the noise again. The ceiling was coming down.

"You did all you could. Go." Sarah choked out. She ripped her hand away from Cam's grip and slumped against the ground.

"No. No! Sarah! Let go of me! SARAH!" Cam started going into hysterics, but Nicole managed to tug Cam out of the way. The two girls slipped around the corner of the hallway, where the ceiling was no longer falling. They both turned to look at Sarah one more time. Just before the stone block slid in front of her, they could just make out a teary smile on Sarah's face.

The stone ceiling slammed shut against the ground, with eerily finality. The sound was loud, compared to the near-silence the previous wall sections had fallen with. It echoed down the corridor behind Cam and Nicole, and they both stood in front of the stone that now served as a wall.

Cam was sobbing now, slamming her fists against the stone and falling to her knees. Just like that, Sarah was gone.

"We have to go." Nicole said after a minute of mourning from both of them. "We can't stay."

"Yeah." Cam sputtered between shuddering breaths. "Yeah."

Slowly, Nicole helped Cam to her feet, and the pair walked on in solemn silence.

by **Independent Athletes from Quebec** » Tue Jun 07, 2022 5:14 pm

OOC: Many thanks once again to Delte for his generous information provided by TG and his factbook entries.

## Po.   Player                      Sex Age TRI Club
01 GK    Leopold      SHIM             M  23 SRS Megabrantid
04 CB    Hannah       KIM              F  23  SRS Damogran
06 RB    CORIOLAN                      M  26  BNJ Busukuma AC
07 LW    Eloise       KWEON            F  23  NPH Sabrefell Moths
08 AM Jean-Christophe BABIN            M  23  NPH Sabrefell Moths[/b]
09 RW    Kate         HUITEMA-OMEASOO  F  27  BNJ Istria City FC
10 ST    ENRICO       Hanson-Conavacio M  30  CMT Myana
11 ST    Zinaida      WOODCARVER       F  22  BRE Rozelle
13 DM/CM Medea        MORIN-ANTONOFF   F  26  BRE Southern Star
14 LB    Devlyn       HARRIS           F  23  ASG Sporting Iturributa
15 CM/AM Rebecca-Anne WAWANOLETT       F  21  CMT Chromatik
16 CM    Samuel       MCTAVISH         M  22  QUE St. John's Arsenal
17 LW    Ruby         VANDERLEY        F  18  CMT Lanar
18 RB    Pierre-Karl  MILLER           M  21  QUE Olympique de Rimouski
20 LI    Clement      MATTERN-SOH      M  23  ZRH DD Porto Nowi
21 GK    SANDRA       MIDDLETON        F  26 NPH Coret Hawks
26 CB    CHEWBACCA                     F  25  BNJ Hoima Warriors
27 AM    Mathinna     BOUCK            F  22  QUE Montreal Koreana
29 GK    Clemence     MOUSSENGUET      F  20  QUE CSKA Joongyeong
48 LB/RB Benoit       NIANZOU JR       M  20  VLD Deportivo Junin
55 CM    ERIN         KANG             F  33  FFD Rulandea Kosta
88 AM/LW MARCO        HERTEL           M  30  VLD Fontvielle Impact
99 DM    JOELINTON    DYXKESON         M  20  SRS Jaglan Royals

Avalon

PART 8 - Another Love

There was a famous saying from the land far removed, just south of the Blood Sea that separated Anaia, Atlantian Oceania and Rushmore. The waters between them, ever so murky and dangerous that they have consumed the lives of many lives both regal and common, were more than enough to bring the fears of any seafarers and warriors who had dared venture them repeat this to each other in their encounters.

That a thread drawn once can influence a thousand lives. And that they, if drawn correctly, can pay back in some forms of reward or punishment five-dozen years later.

'Well, that is something,' Christine said as she found herself in middle of an empty Platform 1 in Oswark Station, which was located right in middle of the city. It was seven in the morning, just early and busy hours per usual rush hour customs in her homeland of Quebec, but the trains here, as reliable as they were, seldom ran in the Deltean morning hours, and all that she could see were clear displays of black and white no different than the Great Big Smite Bay Contamination Scandal of 1990.

Almost as if the entire city freezes once it's past five, and not to wake until the noon, thought the regent, before seeing a tall, faceless conductor at the end of the hallway. 'Hello!' shouted she in a high voice, right as the faceless man's front was replaced by a face of a generic, 1960s Hippie conductor with a cigar. 'Are you the conductor?'

CONDUCTOR: Yes, it is me, dear stranger. Foreign to the land but by blood and right meant to be back. Did your ancestor visit here?

'Yes, or at least I have heard so,' Christine responded, taking half a dozen steps forward to see him duplicate into two conductors. The second one, however, looked more like an eighties' child, who looked like a generation of youthful bankers and investors who had profitted off the dark hands of Taxhavnian expansion.

Those whose hands have long been, or may still be covered with the bloods of those who they have extracted, whispered a voice right under her, from the platform.

'It was my grandfather, who was said to be a great man...from the faraway land I had come from.' Christine answered, trying to ignore the sound of breaths taken back and forth by the spirits. 'He said

CONDUCTOR 2: Then he must have not told you enough about here. Trains don't run here in the mornings, as you can see from the departure board there. (points) And it doesn't take you all the way, it only goes up to Marshlock Spa. Once you are past that you are on your own.

'Bullshit,' answered Christine, her eyes changing colours from blue to green and then red. 'Nowhere did it mention in your renowned travel guides such, and it has been written on historical records that it is impossible to travel far and beyond there, especially if you can read above, through and beyond the lines.' she then continued, 'So it's either something disastrous happened here, or you are just denying it for reasons you would not want to tell me.'

Of course, this was where Christine was both right and wrong. It was indeed true, if you read the lines on first two glimpses, it would suggest that the land is mostly unnavigable for the mortals, due to various reasons right underneath:

VISIT DELTE wrote:
"Beware, and try avoiding travel by land paths or even roads, as there are [jaguars, mountain lions, bears, wolves, wild dogs, rabid otters, goliath eagles, hairy river dolphins, ancient alligators, neanderthal trolls, swamp sirens, bold deceiver dwarves, Moss Thing, old Cthulian devils, walking trees, werestatues, stray Z-day refugees and deadly-tiresome ancient mariners with surprisingly strong grips.] It is a high-risk zone with decent chances of injuries or even death to those who do so...........But if you are looking for the hut in middle of the Springs themselves, make sure to come to the station at seven, before reaching the Marshlock. Stay on Platform 1. Once there the closed line itself, which remains open on magic, will direct you to it.

But what most had ignored, thanks to how tiny the words were written and covered in silver ink, were a peculiar instruction:

..........But if you are looking for the hut in middle of the Springs themselves, make sure to come to the station at seven, before reaching the Marshlock.
Stay on Platform 1. Once there the closed line itself, which remains open on magic, will direct you to it.

'Seven in the morning, the train to the Garga Springs leaves upon request. Like the Delte Valley Railway itself, the infrequency is what drives the average eye away.' Christine answered, her mouth speaking out of turn and beyond. It sounded differently than her usual voice, however, and each passing word she had spoken caused her to realise that another voice was borrowing from her.

But with every borrowed word came with power of their own, and Christine, whose knowledge here wasn't proficient enough to interrupt the process, knew it was best for her to defer it to unknown presence that was speaking in her place. Now, with the balance of the stage shifting, it was her turn to ask the two conductors.

'But the train, now running on a long-closed line damaged by the disaster, never refuses the offer when they stop here, 'continues she, 'Something that most of us, myself included, would be the particular generosity taken by the conductors. But, out of guilt for those they had refused to house during the days of the disaster...or those tricked by the creatures underneath when the Taxhavnians had polluted it. N'est-ce pas?'

CONDUCTOR 1: Correct. Now we could talk. 
Let's say they were products of the actions we, as keepers of the marshes, had made back then in order to save the lives. 
While most of the Delte Valley escaped the potential disaster that very day thanks to weather and pure luck working their way,
the inner swamps didn't exactly have the luck. 
Of course, the swamps weren't exactly the swamps you know of now back then, 
and we, in order to preserve the spread of the wave of decimation that had turned Smite Valley into one, 
had to sacrifice the dying men and their souls instead of saying. 

I am sure you have heard of The Right Honourable North Pacific Company right?

'Yes.' said she.

CONDUCTOR 2: Good. But remember that name. Time flies fluidly there.
But really, remember that company and ask along the way because the hut borders it all. 
Now tell me who's the last Quebecois to have entered this land?

'Rex Henri VIII of Quebec and Shingoryeo, Emperor Hyejong,' said Christine.

It was at that moment that a train, eight-car relic of the 1800s' glory, opened up.

by **Graintfjall** » Tue Jun 07, 2022 5:15 pm

The opening ceremony for the Græntfjaller half of World Cup 91 took place in Háttmark at the Grander International Stadium, ahead of the opening game between the hosts and Nyowani Kitara. Organizers were fortunate that weather held clear and dry as the sun set over the capital city.

Celebrating Græntfjall’s viking heritage, the ceremony began with a dramatic reading of the heroic national saga Skorrissaga. Eilífur Vilmarsson, widely considered the greatest actor of the modern Græntfjaller stage, appeared on the central podium to warm applause, and took out a copy of the saga.

Two hours later, the turned the final page and closed it, giving a warm sigh of appreciation for the rich and evocative history. At this point, a stagehand scuttled up to him and whispered into his ear. “Oh, out loud?” he responded.

A few more Twitter jokes were ~~stolen~~ lovingly recycled, after which it was the turn of the cultural parade. The entire University of Waltenberg STEM school had been put to work ensuring the children trooping the national colors of each participating nation were exactly representative of the modern, multicultural Græntfjall.

In a touching moment, Kitaran refugee children were invited to carry the Nyowani Kitara flag (less touchingly, angry statisticians fumed at being denied from sawing one of the girls in half after they worked out the proper percentage of Kitaran-Græntfjallers rounded to half a percentage point).

Unfortunately, the professors’ work meant the only computer scientists available to work on procedurally generating mascots were grad students and postdocs, and their efforts proved unsatisfactory. By popular demand Sigurgísli Wolfsson and Bryngerður Gyrfalconsdóttir have been brought back. They entered with the final group of children who were bearing the Græntfjaller flag itself.

All eyes turned skyward as the stadium’s large viewscreen showed a brief recorded message from Crown Princess Kassandra. The AV intern’s face froze in horror as he realized he’d cued up the hot mic footage of Her Royal Highness sneering with contempt about ‘peasant sports’, but fortunately the words were drowned out by the cheers of their crowd for their beloved princess, as they broke out into an impromptu rendition of the Græntfjaller national anthem and so didn’t hear her calling them ‘potato-faced peons who need a good dose of the lash’.

A rather more formal version of the national anthem followed, sung by pop star Arianna Ásmarsdóttir. Though the tone-deaf ‘singer’ failed to hit a single note and forgot most of the lyrics, it was widely acclaimed as one of the greatest ever renditions, because she’s really fit.

Finally, Aurora Tristansdóttir (Chair of Knattspyrnusamband Græntfjalls) and Isabella Patricksdóttir (Mayor of Háttmark) accompanied Prime Minister Kaija Michaelsdóttir to officially open the World Cup. She kept her remarks mercifully brief, reflected on the opening game as beginning a new era of peace and reciprocity between Græntfjall and Nyowani Kitara, and looked forward to a World Cup “free of war, free of hatred, free of bigotry, and free of almost anyone being eaten by a kraken”.

The official anthem of the House of Grænt signalled the arrival of royalty as Princess Jessika appeared in the Royal Box in her military uniform, timing her appearance perfectly as a hint of aurora pinked up the now-black sky, and sending the royalty-obsessed Græntfjaller crowd into raptures of ecstasy. The awe of the moment was only slightly lessened by the stadium cameras immediately cutting to Björnólfur Ernestisson as he chose that moment to start stretching out his groin.

Finally, Hjörleifur Reynarsson trooped on stage to accept the team banner from the Prime Minister, and Sausage Tower, overlooking the stadium, was lit up in the national colors of blue and white. As dignitaries cleared the field to make room for players to start warming up (not quickly enough in the case of the Under Secretary of Culture for Sport, Recreation, and Obligatory Whimsical Third Comedy Item, who took a Sara Kristoffersdóttir free-kick to the face) Kaija lingered for a moment.

She had overseen Græntfjall’s entry to the Baptism of Fire and World Cup 86, their first hosting bid at the 30th International Basketball Championship, and had now brought the World Cup, perhaps for the only time, to her country’s snowy, kraken-infested shores. She was very proud, and wiped a tear from her eye as she looked up… and realized, in that moment, just how much the Sausage Tower resembled an enormous dildo.

MD1 cutoff (Groups E-H)

Results

by **Vilita** » Tue Jun 07, 2022 6:49 pm

Rebels Prevail over Cabo Azure, set course for World Cup 91

Lighthouse Arena, Lonngeylin, Vilita :: For the first time since the opening matchday of the World Cup 90 Finals, the Vilitan National Team would head to one of the newest stadiums in the Tropics, Lightouse Arena at Lighthouse Point in Lonngeylin. The Home of multi-time Vilitan Stellar Division champion side Lonngeylin Coast, Lighthouse Park was home to the opening ceremonies of World Cup 90 - but those spectacular opening ceremonies were quickly forgotten when the Jungle Cats were defeated without scoring a single goal on the day by the nation of Pemecutan - the White Myna who would go on to the World Cup Final. Now, after a campaign full of non-traditional venues, Vilita Jungle Rebels head coach decided to offer some reprieve to the Vilita National Team fans looking to support their team in the World Cup Qualifying Playoffs by selecting a popular venue in a major population center for the second leg of Vilita's two-legged World Cup Qualifying Playoff against Cabo Azure.

Boosted by the support of Lonngeylin Coast chairman Belmari Snowala, the pre-game festivities at the Lighthouse would not disappoint with the popular octo-copter lightshow which made its debut during the World Cup 90 Finals returning to entertain fans before the second leg of the World Cup 91 Qualifying Playoff. Endur Rotropii's Jungle Rebels entered with a one goal advantage knowing that if they could just match Cabo Azure on pitch for the next 90 minutes in front of their home fans they would be returning to the World Cup Finals. Rotropii was satisfied with the job done by the team on the road but made a few changes to the lineup as they would send the Rebels out in a surprisingly more aggressive formation for the home leg of the fixture. Takaara Mlianzi would retain their spot in the starting lineup but would be joined by Diamoa Waviino while Treasvo Tlikara, goalscorer in the first leg, would be replaced in the lineup by sibling Kunaro Tlikara.

It was no surprise that Baker Park based goalkeeper Ukamai Talingri would retain their place in the starting lineup after having posted their fifth shutout of the cycle in the opening leg of the playoff fixture in Cabo Azure. The biggest changes for the Rebels would come in defense where both Teero Alatalo and Hothat Iciiplak who helped produce the shutout for the Rebels in the opening leg were surprisingly out of the lineup completely for the second leg. Rotropii did not release an injury report before the match so it is unknown if the players were available for selection but in their place it would be Riailia Village defender Injyua Klizlo and the Turori-based Narri Sebapilo.

The media present at the Lighthouse Arena as well as much of the twii.tur-verse on the information multi-highway were already preparing to hold Rotropii's feet to the fire for the unexplained defensive changes when Cabo Azure got the goal to level out the fixtures aggregate score just 11 minutes into the second leg. The goal came from Vilitan-based midfielder Narciso Maciel - familiar with the scenery and the fans at Lighthouse Arena having played in the venue as a member of Colonial Sile in the Vilitan Stellar Division. Maciel had created a play on the right hand side with some good distribution and as the play developed, skilfully positioned them selves in space near the top of the box. As Seth Rathbone found themselves in trouble on the wing, they played the ball backward to Deodato Medeiro who quickly redistributed to Maciel who had time and space to take a step then fire a hard, curling shot just inside the far post.

Despite having given up the opening goal, Rebel Leader Rotropii was quick on the gab to encourage their players and remind them that despite what the scoreboard said at the moment, they weren't losing the big picture and just needed to compose themselves for the rest of the game, find another goal and they would be on their way to the World Cup Finals. Just over fifteen minutes later they would find that goal and it would be Takaara Milanzi, the Yeaddin Owls AFC attacker who Rotropii had retained their faith in from the first leg who rewarded that confidence by putting Vilita back in front on aggregate by firing home the rebound after a shot by Diamoa Waviino was blocked by Medeiro at close range. The fans at the Lighthouse who had been silenced by Maciel's earlier tally were now back in full song with their team having regained the overall lead. The songs were still in full force six minutes later when Kunaro Tlikara used a little bit of that special Tlikara Force to give the Rebels a 2-1 lead on the night and double their advantage to two-goals on the aggregate. The Rebels would maintain the advantage through the half time break when the fans in attendance all flocked to queue up at the nearest Cocoa-bo-to-go or We'll Fry It! kiosk locations before settling in for the second half.

Please with their sides performance despite giving up the early goal, Endur Rotropii would make no changes at the half and would send the same side out to finish the job they had started against Las Maçaricas. Rotropii's opposite number would make changes, however, swapping defense for a more attacking look in an attempt to capitalize better on their counter-attack style that had seen minimal possession despite numerous goal-scoring opportunities. The Azureans would go off the board a bit looking for a spark and they would find it from Vasco Gouveia who was energetic and impactful from the moment they got on the field in the second half. Gouveia would put pressure on the Vilitan defense and earn a corner kick just six minutes into the second half. The first corner was delivered by Marciano Ferreira and cleared behind by Sebapilo for a second corner kick. Ferreira delivered once more, this time a higher cross that found its way to the backside of the area where Deodato Medeiro was waiting to head the ball home past Ukamai Talingri. With that touch, the fixture was alive once more as the scoreline was level 2-2 on the night a the Jungle Rebels aggregate advantage was back down to a single goal.

Holding three substitutions in their back pocket the Rebel Leader was indecisive at first, calling the fourth official over to put the board up only to change their mind after seeing Narri Sebapilo go down during a challenge with Nicodemo Corte-Real. Though Sebapilo indicated they were able to continue playing, Rotropii felt it was a sign from the ghosts of the force imploring the Rebel Leader to make a replacement for Sebapilo. Rotropii would give the numbers to the fourth official and with that, Khrusan Mlianko was on the field for the Rebels. The Eura League based midfielder had made just five appearances for the Rebels during World Cup Qualifying but had made the most of their appearances finding the scoresheet four times. As a function of total minutes played, Mlianko was averaging over a goal per game played during the World Cup 91 Cycle and would continue the trend after just seven minutes on the pitch, lighting the celebratory lamp at the top of the Lighthouse with their 68th minute goal that restored the Rebels lead on the night.

Leading in the game and up two goals on the aggregate, Rotropii was still holding two substitutions and would cash one in to unite the Tlikara siblings on the pitch for the final 20 minutes of the playoff fixture. After a productive but quiet performance on the night Diamoa Waviino would be the one to make way for the Jungle Rebels leading goalscorer, Treasvo Tlikara. The Arena was brimming with excitement as the high-impact siblings found their way on the pitch together in front of 100,000+ fans for the first time. With the bulk of the possession and the fans urging them on, the Tlikara's quickly connected but had their best opportunities thwarted by 20 year old netminder Ambrosio Gomez who was unwilling to give up on the Azurean World Cup dream just yet. The pressure once the Tlikara's were together on the pitch was relentless, however, and there was only so much that Gomez could do. After four consecutive corner kicks the Rebels finally broke through again with Trezisi Rokopolis poking at a ball that was only half cleared by Amilcar Branco to give the Vilitan National Team a 4-2 lead on the night and a three-goal advantage on the aggregate.

With less than 20 minutes to play the Rebels ticket to Farfadillis and Graintfjall was nearly punched. The Rebel Leader would use their last substitution in a unique way, replacing stalwart netminder Ukamai Talingri with the young Rebel Academy prospect Altirii Touiniki. In a calculated decision that clearly could have backfired if the youngster had conceded three goals and cost the Rebels a spot in the World Cup Finals, Rotropii was later quoted as stating that their main concern was protecting the teams established #1 Goalkeeper. "Talingri has been outstanding for us this campaign and I would have hated to lose them to an awkward fall punching out a corner kick with minutes to play in the game that would have only served to reduce the opponents deficit from three goals to two. It just wasn't worth it to leave them in at that point"

Though their methods may have been a bit unconventional, Rebel Leader Endur Rotropii and the players from the Rebel Academy in the Old Tivali Jungle had injected new life into the Vilitan National Team. The Rebels journey from conceding 9 goals and collecting 0 points on the first two matchdays to recovering with a revenge victory over the Empire on the Ice Pitch of Hothicii was now complete as they had accomplished the goal they were tasked with from the outset, bring pride back to Vilitan Footsport and lead the Vilitan National Team back to the World Cup Finals.

 Vilita 4 - 2 Cabo Azure	
	Vilita Goals:	:: 27' Takaara Milanzi:: 33' Kunaro Tlikara:: 68' Khrusan Mlianko:: 72' Trezisi Rokopolis           
	Stats :: Vilita 	:: Possession: 58%:: Shots: 8:: Corners: 15 :: Cabo Azure :: Possession: 42%:: Shots: 7:: Corners: 11
	Vilita Lineup :: 	Ukamai Talingri (Altirii Touiniki 73'), Injyua Klizlo, Awukchu L’bakka, Narri Sebapilo (Khrusan Mlianko 61'), Letirpsi Vulitn, Jakku’u Naboyavi, Trezisi Rokopolis, Fyin Miateal, Kunaro Tlikara, Takaara Milanzi, Diamoa Waviino (Treasvo Tlikara 69')

World Cup 91 :: Group C Preview :: There will be something of a familiar nature when Group C action begins at the World Cup 91 Finals and it will not invoke good memories for fans of the Vilitan National Team. The Jungle Rebels have been drawn into the Grainfjaller half of the World Cup 91 Group Stage where both host nation Graintfjall and the Vilitans will be hoping to improve on their performance from one cycle prior when the two nations were drawn together in Group A and only managed to earn a single point in the Finals - secured for each via a 1-1 draw against each other on Matchday 2. Of course the big surprise of World Cup 90 Group A - beyond the fact that both Vilita and Graintfjall had crashed out of the World Cup with only a single point to their names - was the nation who would sweep the Group: Pemecutan. The White Myna had a solid qualification campaign but really backed it up with a tone-setting performance and back-to-back-to-back Group Stage victories to win Group A and advance through to the Round of 16. Everyone knows the story of Pemecutan from that point on as they would run the table on the Vilitan half of the World Cup 90 Finals and ultimately finish as World Cup 90 Runners Up. The magical run to Lunar Park has catapulted Pemecutan from relative to obscurity to now being the second ranked team in the World Cup Committee Rankings and Group C's Pot 1 team for World Cup 91.

Elsewhere in Group C will be the Commonwealth of Baker Park who were the other co-host nation of World Cup 90 - where Graintfjall, Vilita and Pemecutan's fates were all intertwined just one cycle ago. For Pemecutan, there will be unfinished business with the Bees of Baker Park as the Commonwealth snatched the Cup of Champions out of the hands of the White Myna before going on to finish as Eagle's Cup Runners-Up. The Final team in Group C will be Drawkland, returning to the World Cup Finals after a three-cycle absence, having last appeared in World Cup 87.

World Cup 91 Matchday 1 Preview :: Vilita Jungle Rebels v. Drawkland Kick Corps

Vilita's Opening matchday fixture against Drawkland will take place at the OptiFone Arena in Folte, also known simply as the Folte Arena. The weather for the matchup is expected to be Overcast but Dry offering near perfect playing conditions for teams on both sides of the ball. The Vilitan National Team have played Drawkland just once before in the World Cup Finals, a Round of 16 matchup during World Cup 86 in Drawkland and Newmanistan. It was the first and, to date, only appearance for Drawkland in the Round of 16 of the World Cup Finals and the Kick Corps kept pace with the Jungle Cats every step of the way. It was a thrilling match where the Jungle Cats had taken a 2-0 lead thanks to goals from Fishtii Blikala and Va'a-Rio Kiwavn, then fell behind 2-4 only to fight back through a late Enzoril Alabonni double that forced extra time. The match will perhaps most be remembered as the lone start for Tropicorp FC netminder Hanauma Ranbomahi in the World Cup knockout rounds. Having declared for Tropicorp in the AOCAF Cup, Ranbomahi retained eligibility to appear for the Vilitan National Team at World Cup Committee sanctioned competitions as Tropicorp held no World Cup Committee affiliation. The Tropicorper would make just ten career starts for Vilita with the World Cup 86 Round of 16 by far the most famous and impactful of them all. Ranbomahi would not last the distance, however. After being drawn into the team due to a series of injuries, Ranbomahi was less than impressive over the 90 minutes of regular time having conceded more goals in the ninety minutes then starter Mako Canopii had in the two previous World Cup matchdays. With Canopii unable for selection and the Emergency Keeper ruling in effect, Vilita would go with Ranbomahi over the ill but available Vernasa Sanamun. The calculus had apparently changed as Extra Time approached, however, as the coaching staff decided that four goals was enough, yanking Ranbomahi from the game and introducing the Jungle Strike FC co-keeper Vernasa Sanamun. Sanamun would close the deal for the Vilitan National Team who would win the shootout by a 4-3 scoreline to end Drawklands time in the Knockout stages of the World Cup and set up an ultimately unproductive matchup with Cassadaigua in the World Cup Quarter Finals. Drawkland are favored by pundits not to advance from the Group Stage and history would probably agree as Drawkland have made the World Cup Finals on 9 different occasions while doing so twice as a host nation. Across those 9 appearances however, their Second Round defeat on home soil against Vilita remains the only time that Drawkland have managed to advance beyond the Group Stage of the World Cup Finals. If in attendance, Drawkian leader Iarocav is likely to look to claim a shipment of Vilaye Energy Drink from the Vilaye Canz 4 Life Promotion.

by **Saint Eleanor** » Tue Jun 07, 2022 6:58 pm

WORLD CUP 91 - Saint Eleanor's Group A schedule and knockout possibilities

26th June 2000: Nyowani Kitara vs Græntfjall (first game of the World Cup)
27th June 2000: Saint Eleanor vs Squidroidia (EXT first group game)
1st July 2000: Saint Eleanor vs Nyowani Kitara (EXT second group game)
5th July 2000: Græntfjall vs Saint Eleanor (EXT third group game)

10th July 2000: Octofinals: Group A winner vs Group D runner-up (OF1); Group A runner-up vs Group D winner (OF2)
11th July 2000: More Octofinals: Group B winner vs Group C runner-up (OF3); Group B runner-up vs Group C winner (OF4)
16th July 2000: Quarterfinals: Winner of OF1 vs winner of OF3 (QF1); winner of OF2 vs winner of OF4 (QF2)
19th July 2000: Semifinal: Winner of QF1 vs winner of QF2

22nd July 2000: Third-place playoff
23rd July 2000: The World Cup Final

Alan Eldridge: "God knows how we put up so much of a fight, but we did"
Chief Football Correspondent Jamie Rodgers questions Army and Navy's rightback on the big stage - and somewhat smaller ones, too
Originally published on Sunday 25th June 2000

Marketplace district is, to say the least, strange. The most remote of the Dockside Cluster's five districts, it has never sought association with the districts where the dockworkers actually live and commute from, and would much rather be remembered as the home of a great outdoor market which gave it its current name - and is coming up on its fiftieth anniversary. Yet neither of Alan Eldridge's parents work there - and neither, unlike their son, ever served in the military. So what is going on?

The simple answer is that unlike LCpl Darren Batchelor, Eldridge always wanted to join the Army. "Marketplace's Community School is okay, but I wouldn't call it great by any standards. Like Bridget [Coombe], I was never really interested in football in the first place, although I had quite a grasp on how it worked, and I never joined the Charles Trump Shield team... which I'll accept wouldn't have been very good with or without me there. What I was about was going to the gym, doing whatever I wanted to get done - which varied from week to week, thankfully - going out for regular and informal exercise and generally just trying my best in all the other subjects, of course. I'd wanted to go into the Army for more than a few years before I left school, and once I did, I filed off my application and they said 'yes, you'll more than like it here.'"

In January 1991, Eldridge was assigned to Blackwood Alpha military base, but he says his time there was "ridiculously boring: Blackwood, like the other districts that surround Brightway, is an infuriatingly posh place where people actually have nice jobs and don't get into trouble - I mean, the teachers didn't like me sometimes, but they were mostly just so nice that A, it was a culture shock; and B, I mostly had to deal with wankers from further south on the Red Line running their shit here. Including from Marketplace." Does he remember anything happening there? "I met my wife! Grace is a particularly quiet woman who mostly wants to get on with the task at hand, I'd say - more so than I ever felt like doing in that depressing fuckscape - but we really met up during the most informal, least sensitive work meetings at the local Premium Coffee, which naturally saw very little progress on anything. We tied the knot just before I left the place, we still do a lot of nonsense together, and when I'm not playing, I have to deal with a couple of really well-meaning kids who behave themselves and seem to like it at the local primary school."

Why did he leave? The answer is simple: after two years at Blackwood Alpha, Eldridge requested a transfer to Oaktree Omega base - better known as the New Barracks, home of Army and Navy - where he passed his trial "with flying colours - the gaffer said so, at least." When pressed on what three games most influenced his playing career, he is quick to invoke "1994: we won 2-1 at Northwest Road. I know it was early in the season, but Athletic were the big title challengers; God knows how we put up so much of a fight, but we did. If you know Lauren Pell, who was one of the few good youngsters to be brought through the Athletic Saint Eleanor setup in recent years, then you know the task at hand: beware her jinks inside, there's a 25% chance she's faking it, she's definitely going to pass the ball if she's holding onto it under pressure, try and get to her as early as possible if she's moving - all the golden rules we learned in our '93 scouting. She's gotten much more unpredictable since then, and I honestly thought she, but Roger Elliott - great man, great manager - told me to follow the plan because she probably would, as well. I made a couple of errors, but the only goal we conceded had nothing to do with me, and we secured a win to top it all off. Unfortunately we couldn't do it again at home later in the season, and I think that was a big factor in us losing the title to them on goal difference - plus we got shafted against Indy a bit earlier than that - but we weren't as good as the previous sides and we've never won the title since, so that might be another factor. Lesson number one: Don't question the manager; he's probably right. Or she, if you're talking about the national team."

Next on his list is 1997's 2-2 draw against Occidental Olympic, which consolidated their place in the Saint Eleanor League's IFCF spots but effectively killed off Olympic's hopes of getting there. "Steve Pilchard's a smart cookie but he thought it only ended 1-1 when you asked him about it. My official job was to take care of Dominic Cooper; this mostly went according to plan, given that this wasn't exactly one of the best days he'd ever had and I was able to regularly win the ball off him and give it to my teammates - without once being dangerously intercepted. That was mostly Victor Bone's fuckery; he was the other fullback but still only nineteen. The real challenge was, quite honestly, watching out for Exandra Davies. Technically, she was the rightback, but there was always an outside chance that she'd just go past Cooper, catch me out, swing in a good cross for Deka[mela weMexala] to get her head on and bang. I'm afraid she did do that a couple of times, and though nothing she did actually culminated in a goal, there were certainly some scares I'm thankful to Private [Brian] Tarrant for preventing. In fairness, I was focusing so much on what Dom was doing and thinking that Sandy almost completely skipped my mind and we honestly should have paid for that... which we did when they won the title in '98, I think. Lesson number two: Listen to your instructions, but don't only listen to your instructions or everything may go out the window."

Finally, he points to last year's 1-0 triumph away to Hiyashi Celestia. "Those flashy wankers. What else can I say? I am absolutely not saying that the people who are actually involved with them are bad - I've had coffee with more than a few of them over the past eighteen months and they've generally been pleasant, although Lydia Nicholls probably wouldn't know what a joke was if it picked her up from her seat and flicked her out of the window onto Broadlands High Street. But some of the fans... my goodness. Anyway, Bart Forrest and Lamotera Chelira, let's not forget, were both old hats from other clubs that Rachel Schanke had dragged in after what had been a surprisingly crap transfer window, and I was mostly familiar with them, but of course Roger ran down what threats they posed and how they could be stopped. That was one of the best-studied parts of the Celestia unit and it definitely worked out: they pushed forwards on the right for the first twenty or twenty-five minutes but I knew exactly what they were up to, stopped them cold in their tracks and they just went left and centre instead, where we just resorted to the default tactics. Were we lucky to win? Definitely not - we mostly got the hang of their game, Aidan Harris got a goal and he generally had a better game that day than he did all of 1998. We were actually good for the first half of the season, but then we dipped and I honestly do not know why. We even lost the return game 3-0! Lesson three: If you work for everything, you'll definitely feel like you deserve it more."

Saint Eleanor made their first ever World Cup two months ago, and kick off their campaign against Squidroidia on Tuesday. "On paper, this is the strongest team in Group A, they have a good mix of internationally-tested stalwarts and unheralded fifteen-year-olds who should probably be going to school, and I'd just say Adam Johnson's men have done really well to make it to the big stage once again, especially amidst all this Democratic Anarchy nonsense. I call it libertarianism, but whatever." Didn't Jessica Martin, Hugh Roanoke and Bridget Coombe all play in the Saint Eleanor League while attending the University? "I'll grant you that their parents all had some military background - mine didn't - and all of them definitely have a measure of self-control, where and how to play, and making good decisions in general. They're sensible people, pretty much, and I'm thankful to be surrounded by so many of them in the national team. But I fear for the six Wunderbars, honestly." Any thoughts on Nyowani Kitara and Græntfjall, the White Stars' other prospective adversaries? "They're going to be easier games, if only to the extent that there are no easy games at the World Cup. If we focus, we can do it. If we don't, we'll get zero points from nine and everyone will laugh at us."

Thankful to be surrounded by them - but which ones in particular? "The army kids in the squad, and we have more than a few, just get football, I'd say. But other than them - oh, definitely Cathy Winchester. I know I'm pretty much shadowing her and she has a lot of other, much closer friends in the camp, but speaking solely as a player, she's been an astonishingly good mentor; telling me when to mark, reiterating the lessons I learned against Olympic about not focusing too much about actual players, when it's right to go into tackles and whatnot, how to improve my distribution skills... everything! I'm much older and more experienced than she is, but there's a reason why I'm not the one starting, and that's because she's better than I ever was at this age. Imagine how good she'll be in 2005. Otherwise, Katie O'Donnell; her dad's a teacher, but you'd almost think he was among the army ranks, too. She has flair on the pitch, but definitely isn't a showboat; loves talking off it, but won't run her mouth or complain about good instructions without good cause. She's not Kitara AA's first choice - that's Dewa Putu Mahardika - but she doesn't care because she knows on the rare occasions she gets on the pitch, she wants to deliver. That is the attitude I expect from everyone in the team, and I think Priscilla agrees."

Alan Eldridge is nondescript, by which I mean the good kind of nondescript. He certainly practices what he preaches about not being a nuisance: mild-mannered and duty-bound off the pitch, surprisingly effective at the core defensive aspects of being a fullback on it, although rather willing to defer to the midfielders ahead of him. And although Winchester's presence means that he is nowhere near becoming a regular starter, it is not that he has no contributions to make to the national team: he provides a refreshingly commonsensical philosophy of football and team unity which many observers are inclined to agree with in principle - and which, mercifully, appears to be very applicable to the team in practice. Will all this cohesion pay off over the next few weeks of summer? We all hope so. Up the White Stars!

by **Graintfjall** » Tue Jun 07, 2022 8:04 pm

Two and a half cheers as dusk draws in on Reynarsson-Cantor era

Græntfjaller popular culture reveres Friðmundur Valsteinsson, hero of the Age of Storms. Every Græntfjaller child knows the stories of his exploits, from surviving in the kraken’s belly for eight days and eight nights, to slaying the monstrous witch Raskkalka with one blow of his sword. Among academic historians, his reputation – even when myth is disentangled from history – is more mixed: his ruinous tax policies bankrupted the Kingdom and he sold thousands of his own subjects into slavery to pay his debts. Such marks on his record rarely feature in popular accounts; there are no nursery rhymes about his responsibility for the introduction of feudal serfdom or his feuds with the Church. When you’re a hero who accomplished the greatest feats of the age, there’s little accounting for the failures. And while Hjörleifur Reynarsson and Igrene Cantor aren’t known to have beheaded any sorceresses, their leadership of the Snow Wolves may one day see almost as many statues of them as of the warrior-king dotting the landscape. Much like with Friðmundur the Great, there may be little room for objectivity when it comes to assessing their legacy.

Cantor, the Nepharan manager who inherited Kang Guilin’s Snow Wolves team after World Cup 88, accomplished what no Græntfjaller manager ever had, and took the team to the World Cup finals two years later. By then, she had already added to the silverware collection, with a Cup of Harmony title. Two years on another World Cup qualification followed, and immortality was assured. For Reynarsson, the bright future hope when Græntfjall first emerged onto the world football stage, whose beard now runs gray and whose knees groan through a solid inch of strapping, the acclaim exceeds even that of Hrærekur Jvarsson, captain of that CoH side (and the Baptism of Fire winners before them), for what Græntfjaller fans truly wanted was not second-run trophies but a seat at the top table. He richly delivered.

And now, both are on their way out. Three games could be all that remain for the two. Igrene Cantor’s contract will expire after World Cup 91 and it’s believed she wishes to return to Nephara; KG have indicated in any case they will begin a new coach search. Reynarsson’s retirement has been well telegraphed and would probably already have taken place had this World Cup not been a home venture, the desire to lead his team once last time on Græntfjaller soil overcoming, just about, the damage that bearing the burden of 140 million hopes and dreams has wrought on his mighty frame. “I have been honored to lead my country but it’s time for a new chapter,” he said in the pre-match press conference ahead of the opening clash with Nyowani Kitara. Cantor was more professional in her remarks: this has been, for her, just another job, rather than a labor of national passion.

Such has been the deification assured Igrene Cantor for her feat of earning Græntfjall their first ever World Cup qualification that getting a solid read on how her tenure should really be assessed can be difficult. Following qualification for World Cup 89, stonemasons were already queueing up to be the ones to chisel a (doubtless hideously unflattering) statue of the coach, and once she took Græntfjall back in World Cup 90, she could have spent the remainder of her time in charge publicly urinating in the KG parking lot without any fear of being fired. She, thankfully, did not choose to do that, although her final ‘cycle’ in charge has seen (very quiet) whispers of discontent emerge. It began with the World Cup 90 finals: whether overconfidence was to blame, or just a bad week of results, crashing out with 1 point and spinning down the rankings seemed an ill omen as KG were gearing up for their most ambitious effort – a hosting bid for World Cup 91.

The following 40th Copa Rushmori wasn’t so much disappointing as eminently predictable, finishing second in a snooze-inducing group and accomplishing nothing more than yet another Round of 16 exit. Though not directly under Cantor’s purview, the Under-18 World Cup title defense fell awfully flat, and that on home soil too – another dreary portent. Admittedly, hosting has not helped her cause. Græntfjall have been denied 20 international games in exchange for automatic qualification (and KG’s attempts at arranging friendlies fell apart owing to bureaucratic dysfunction, much to the Nepharan’s irritation). Reynarsson, too, has enjoyed a thankless couple of years after serious fitness issues began to emerge at the last World Cup, hobbling through the Copa Rushmori all while failing to find a worthy partner, let alone replacement, at his historically strong center back position. The Eagle’s Cup campaign failed to produce a single win. Among more critical views, there is a fear of stagnation.

“Let’s say – two and a half cheers,” says Olle Tobiasson, veteran football journalist. “KG made it very clear World Cup qualification was their number one priority, and [Cantor] delivered. It would be churlish to add ‘oh and we also want to do well in the Copa Rushmori’, but, well – we do want to do well in the Copa Rushmori and for whatever reason she never cracked that code.” Tobiasson believes Cantor’s best achievement has been to get the most out of talented players who hadn’t fully blossomed under Guilin. “You look at Emeli Vilbertsdóttir, and what a complete footballer she’s become. Sara Kristoffersdóttir, who couldn’t even be trusted in the squad, and is now a team leader, a possible future captain. And not just the stars: she got the absolute best, more than could ever have been hoped for, out of some more… average players. Græntfjall has never had the biggest talent pool: there is more natural footballing talent in the average Farf domestic development squad than in the entire GPL. With some pretty basic tools, [Cantor] built a fine house. It’s just not quite the house some people were hoping for.”

One last chance at setting right the Snow Wolves’ record in Rushmori football comes in their World Cup opener, against Nyowani Kitara. The White Winter Queendom was locked in cold war with the socialist dictatorship for decades since the fall of communism on the western side of Lake Viljan, and nearly erupted into open war as the Akongo children tore their country apart. But the triumph of anti-communist, democratic parties and the seeming acceptance of transition by the KPWC, have opened up the possibility of rapprochement. “It’s a strange atmosphere,” says international relations analyst Dúnn Njálsson. “A couple of years ago this game would have been a feverish rivalry, but now the two countries are almost on friendly terms.” If there is a true rivalry game this World Cup, it will come in the next game, against Squidroidia. Fellow ‘class of 73’ nations alongside Pemecutan, Savigliane and Tikariot, the possibility of cepalophobic abuse from Græntfjaller fans against Inkling players has necessitated a “squids are not kraken” public informational campaign. Less well known are Græntfjall’s final opponents, Saint Eleanor, against whom the country has no established history.

Tobiasson feels that “if the Snow Wolves crash out in three games like last time, or if it’s one more Round of 16 exit, then in the long, long run, a slight shade of bathos will color these last years of the Reynarsson-Cantor era”. He also notes that final match, be it against Saint Eleanor or not, could see more than just two goodbyes. “Amanda Guttisdóttir, Jason Þórhallursson, these guys are clearly on the way out. Do they have it in them to lace up for another full cycle, or will they decide now is the time? Emeli Vilbertsdóttir, too, is clearly declining in pace and may prefer to end on home soil than play out her last match in some distant backwater.” Were the three to call time on their careers, it would effectively end the first generation of Græntfjaller international football. Þórhallursson himself would not be drawn on retirement rumors, while at the same time admitting that “Sara [Kristoffersdóttir], Kæja [Finnvarðsdóttir], Röskvi [Tyrfingsson]: it’s their time now.”

Also in the paper:

NEWS: Prime Minister comes out in favor of nuclear test ban treaty
BUSINESS: Government victories over labor gives management strong hand in forthcoming negotiations
POLITICS: Growing threat from ‘radical right’ cause for alarm, says Deputy Justice Minister
ENVIRONMENT: Reef damage by Storm Reyr ‘irreparable’
SPORT: Snow Wolves at full fitness ahead of opening day clash

by **Farfadillis** » Tue Jun 07, 2022 9:06 pm

Judgment awaits.

by **Jeruselem** » Wed Jun 08, 2022 3:47 am

Naked News Reporter Aaliyah Lust in Graintfjall ...

Hey everyone, this is Aaliyah Lust for Naked News Jeruselem once again covering the World Cup 91.

I'm in Graintfjall for group stage !!! No, I'm not going to try spelling one live.
Groups A to D are hosted in Graintfjall while E to H are hosted in Farfadillis.
The group stage has started and Jeruselem are in Group B along with Tumbra, Zeta Reka and Hugeltaldom and Valanora.
Today was the first group games were Tumbra played Valanora and Jeruselem faced Zeta Reka and Hugeltaldom or just Zeta from now on.

Well, Valanora crashed losing to Tumbra 2-0.
The group stage is the great equaliser where all teams there can be equal and Tumbra felled a titan of the World Cup.
Any team can have one bad day, and maybe today was that day for Valanora.
Or Tumbra was too good? I don't know because I honestly didn't watch that game.
But the end result was Tumbra 3 points, Valanora zero points.

So it was the Princesses facing Zeta, the one with long name.
Unfortunately we didn't win ... but it was the next best thing, a draw.
Both sides played out a 2-2 draw, but we know they would have preferred to win because wins in the group stage are like Gold.
Now Zeta deploy a 3-5-2 formation while we use the 4-4-2 one but we're not used to playing more defensive teams.
We did get caught sometimes pushing forward and losing the ball, then they could counterattack with their bigger midfield.

So in Group B, Tumbra have three points as the leader with Jeruselem and Zeta with 1 and Valanora with nada.
An interesting day, but there were upsets in the other group games so I guess Jeruselem having a draw wasn't a total disaster.
So for the next round of the group stage Tumbra face Jeruselem while Zeta run into Valanora.

In Group H, our friends Independent Athletes from Quebec lost to Zwangzug 2-1.
Losing your first group stage game is not fatal, you can come back from that.

I hear sales of adult movies with me in them are up since I've retired.
It would have been nice if that happened when I was in the industry.
But hey I get royalties! Well I won't be complaining.
Not that I'm going get rich from those, I don't get much.
I haven't completely retired by the way ...

Oh yes, our new calendar for Naked News Jeruselem is coming out.
And yes, it is not for children ... I mean it's got naked women.
Well that's it from me! Since I'm overseas, I'll have to wear clothes ...
Oh thanks to my fans who didn't abandon me for younger replacements! Saying that I'm not getting any younger.

Next time, it's Tumbra vs Jeruselem and Zeta something something vs Valanora.
Having a good day everyone, or was it good night. I've lost track of time over there.

by **Brenecia** » Wed Jun 08, 2022 9:16 am

The Ashburn Patriots ... no, save that name for the official press releases.
The Patriots are a proud name in the game. Or they were, once. Those minimalistic navy and white kits have a fair shout at being considered iconic, these days, and the gold star shone bright in the shirt's night-sky background. The days of genuinely being a meme team were over.
And yet, try searching for pride in that lineup. Slumped heads, expressions of disbelief.
It wasn't even the scoreline... or the result, as such. The scores were level, but it was how they'd got there. Playing anarchic, box-to-box football, balls slung over the top, formations imploding. Oh, the Farfish neutrals in the stands were lapping it up. It was brilliant, heart-affirming stuff. It was also football the Hapilopper way, and Wright had no time for it. Control needed to be exerted.
Covolan had struck first, a beautiful arcing strike silencing Hapilopper's visiting fans, but the Haps had come back roaring. Robson bundled one in - offside - but stabbed in a tidy back-post finish soon afterwards, and Brenecia were reeling, their advantage cancelled out almost soon as it had been asserted. Brenecia's play improved drastically, and the Haps were kept out of the game... for a bit. Then a poor clearance from Killen was snatched up by Huddleston, who played in Bryson, whose unremarkable but powerful shot snuck through Tanner. Brenecia fought back; a classic solo goal from Byrne, scything through three men, skipping over a last-ditch Ellis legbreaker and stabbing the ball past Solomon, and Wake put the Patriots back ahead soon after. And yet, they overextended going forward for a fourth; one brilliant pass from Northrop threaded in, of all people, Parker bloody Mathis to leather one in past Tanner in injury-time.
Few were blameless. The mercurial Covolan had scored first but largely been invisible since, and was sulking, as she often did when she felt others weren't up to her standards. Byrne was fine individually but was snapping at teammates for the same reasons. Lofthouse had been invisible, which was her own and everyone's fault; Tanner should have done a lot better with the second goal, wich Bryson belted straight at her but hard enough to bounce in under her elbow. But Derdriu Wright stared at one man. Kurtis Mikoliunas.
The man had NRI, that was without a doubt. But he had been fucking terrible for the Patriots in the last Campionato Esportiva, and he'd been fucking terrible just now. The issue was that things were falling apart elsewhere, and his instinct, which served him excellently in the sprawling chaos of the S-FPL but worked rather less well in a structured, brutalist Brenecia side, was to run around, putting out fires by slide-tackling people. When things worked, Mikoliunas was one of the best pure destroyers in the game. When things went erratic, Mikoliunas exacerbated them, and it had been an erratic team performance.
"You're too fucking anxious out there," she told them all. "Letting them get in your heads. Knock you about. It was their plan from the start and you're bloody falling for it, huh? We're meant to be better than this. Smarter... more streetwise, at the fucking least! Sure, we're creating chances, but we're haemorrhaging 'em at the other end. Another half of this and we're fucked. So Skaidrina's coming on for Kurtis and we're going to get back to training ground football, huh? Nice passing combinations. Midfield to the overlapping fullback, fullback to the winger, winger to the striker and bang. Don't tell me we've not got the cattle because I look around this dressing room and I see some bloody champagne players, once they're minded to. Lift your fucking standards, go out there and keep the ball, walk it into the box and play some football, 'cause I'm not seeing a whole lot of that in that first half. It's what we came to do, isn't it?"

Sometimes it really does make a difference, what a manager says and what they do.
The presence of Briggs, a worse player than Mikoliunas by most metrics but far calmer, having not shown an emotion since she was about seven, instantly calmed down the midfield, made the game quiet but it took the addition of Rajmund Sitko just past the hour to properly make passes stick. It was not far past Sitko's introduction that he instigated a clever thread of passes, ending at Byrne's feet; she jinked inside and banked on Ellis to get her hard and good, and tumbled obligingly once she was scythed down. Covolan didn't fuck around with her penalty, just sent it low and hard, leaving Solomon without a chance.
Hapilopper had been happy enough with a point, but now they needed a goal and they were going to hurl everything forward at Brenecia. Wright shrugged and threw on Siobhan Baker for Lofthouse - a shorter, faster and more ruthless player who Wright hadn't even known existed two years ago, and who had only late in qualifying debuted. But she was the guy for this. Hapilopper hammered on the door, the introduction of Moon and Hartley off the bench picking them up considerably. Both took shots, both blocked by fearless covering by Brenecian defenders, and Bryson's attempt to follow-up saw a firm, fair, but really firm challenge from Killen denying the chance. And so the ball skidded out for Briggs to pick up, send down the flank to Culpepper, and suddenly the Haps were exposed, and now Brenecia had the pace. Culpepper slung a ball over the top that few but Byrne would have reached, but reach she did, hooking around just before it rolled out for a goal-kick. Boone had already been on a caution; had he not, Byrne would've been slammed into the turf then and there, but the rightback gambled and pulled out of the challenge, cursing and trying to get back.
Byrne just had a second, but it was all a player of her quality needed to send a ball rocketing straight into the path of Siobhan Baker. The Alnio striker's contact was clumsy - a toebash, really - but it looked good, thumped well past Solomon to hand Brenecia the result.
Wright could finally relax. They really did listen. Sometimes. And sometimes, she was even worth listening to.

Brenecia 5 - 3 Hapilopper
(4-3-3) 12 - Tanner; 17 - Lovibond, 18 - Killen, 5 - Shrine, 22 - Culpepper; 8 - Conway (23 - Sitko 63'), 19 - Mikoliunas (4 - Briggs HT'), 11 - Covolan; 15 - Wake, 21 - Lofthouse (9 - Baker 77'), 10 - Byrne
BRE: Covolan 4', Byrne 35', Wake 39', Covolan 72' pen, Baker 84'
HAP: Robson 9', Bryson 26', Mathis 45+1'

Lineup vs. Ko-oren:
(4-3-3) 12 - Tanner; 2 - Bravender, 18 - Killen, 5 - Shrine, 22 - Culpepper; 8 - Conway, 4 - Briggs, 11 - Covolan; 7 - Carpenter, 21 - Lofthouse, 10 - Byrne

by **Tumbra** » Wed Jun 08, 2022 10:11 am

Tumbra 2-0 Valanora

TMB (4-2-3-1): 1 - Barker; 2 - Hughes, 4 - Kerr, 14 - Ashburn (5 - Henderson, 79'), 3 - Harris (19 - Carter, 72'); 6 - Harrison, 8 - Hicks, 10 - Cole (16 - Fisher, 81'); 7 - Hilton, 9 - Vaughn; 11 - Riordan

TMB goalscorers: Robin Vaughn (23'), Nick Riordan (66')

Player of the Match: Robin Vaughn (TMB)

Tumbra got their World Cup 91 campaign off to a flying start by beating perpetual powerhouses and five-time world champions Valanora in Háttmark. Regarded as slight underdogs, due to the rank difference between them, this match was always going to be crucial for either team's hopes of advancing out of the Group Stage. And Tumbra delivered, in magnificent fashion; Robin Vaughn hit Valanora for his fifth goal in a World Cup early on in the game, after Trudy Harrison intercepted a ball meant for Laborious Hawk and began the counterattack that has become a trademark of the Yuan Zilai-led Black Eagles. For much of the game, Tumbra looked the more dangerous, if defensive, team, with the midfield working in tandem to prevent Hawk from working his magic. Sabrefell Moths striker Nick Riordan would sink the second goal home — a close range shot, but rifled into the top left corner — after the hour mark to give Tumbra a 2-0 lead that they would doggedly hold until the end of the game; the substitution of Phil Cole for Andrew Fisher, employed in a much deeper role, would prove testament to this. Ultimately, Valanora were frustrated, and Tumbra would emerge with all three points. With third seeds Jeruselem and fourth seeds Zeta Reka drawing their game in Mühlrich, Tumbra have taken an early lead in Group B, and look to secure early passage through to the second round by getting a good result against third seeds Jeruselem in Þingsnitz.

PREVIOUSLY ON DEFENDER MEETS MIDFIELDER

Intrepid defender Stephen Kerr and his world-class midfielder team-mate (and also girlfriend) Trudy Harrison, on a routine trip back to Tumbra for a national squad call-up, were seemingly kidnapped outside Kingsbury International Airport by several black cars. Turns out that said cars belong to one Charles Harrison, Trudy's dad, media magnate and the second richest man in Tumbra. On a hunting trip at the Georgia-Dartmoor border, Charles makes Stephen an offer — instead of his daughter (whom he's given up on) returning to his side, Stephen would take her place; and become the next heir to the Harrison family. Meanwhile, back at home, Trudy learns of a secret bank account that her grandmother, Christine, has set up for her. Will Stephen accept Charles' offer? Does Christine Harrison have any other surprises for her granddaughter?

Link to previous part | Link to arc home
defender meets midfielder: season 6, part 8
the confronation

The Moors
Somewhere along the Georgian-Dartmoor border

It probably wasn't going to be much use to him, but Stephen Kerr clutched his shotgun tighter to his body. See, he knew Charles Harrison wouldn't shoot him — the one good thing about being famous was that if he'd died now, there'd be a lot of noise, not just from within Tumbra, but the whole of Chromatika, too — but he thought it better to be safe. At the same time, he was still trying to parse through what Charles was saying. Join him at his side?

"But why me? I've got no business experience; my highest qualification is a high school certificate."

"That's exactly why I want you, Stephen; I can teach you everything from the ground up! None of those business school yonks, coming into my corporate structure with dreams far above their station. No, Stephen, I want someone I can mold; someone I can teach, like how my father taught me. You are that person, Stephen."

"Trust me, I'm not the person you're looking for. I'm a footballer. I'm not a businessman."

"You could be both," Charles smiled, stepping closer to Stephen. "Nobody ever said a footballer couldn't be a businessman. And you could stay with Trudy."

"I want to focus on my career."

"You could, as I'd told Trudy a few days back, come back once your career ended. Both of you. She wouldn't have anything to do with my business, and you'd still have each other. Plus, as I've mentioned before, the family fortune."

"We both know that's not going to be possible. She hates you. Hates you. If this is some kind of ploy, some kind of long con, to try and get her to stay with you, it won't work."

"Young, idealistic lovers. Fools."

"Your whole life you've had everything. Now you can't take two people rejecting you? Charles, you lead a multi-billion dollar media empire, or so I've been told. There will be people queueing, everywhere, just to get five minutes of time with you. You've got the whole world to comb for your successor, and somehow all you want are the two people who are the least likely to say yes?"

"She is my daughter," Charles muttered. "She was meant to take over the company when she was old enough. I am not going to lose her again."

"You did that yourself. Don't you see? You pushed her away yourself. You refused to let her follow her dreams, to the extent that she was willing to escape from you, just to have a chance at a career. And now you think, what, she's going to come back to you? That's ridiculous. Or that she'll stay with me if I decide to go over to you? That's equally ridiculous. She'd leave me, probably ask me to leave Chromatik, too, or leave herself. You lost her the moment she ran away all those years ago, Charles."

"I don't believe a single word you're saying. It looks like I overestimated you, Stephen; I thought you were smarter than this."

"We could head back, tonight. Have a good conversation, all three of us. About what you want, and what the two of us want. I can assure you, now, though, that you won't be able to get anything out of us." Approaching the topic with subtlety was now an impossibility; it was obvious Charles wasn't going to listen to whatever Stephen was saying. Whatever.

"Fine." The two stared at each other, unflinching; both refusing to blink. "Shall we continue with our hunt?"

"Yes," said Stephen, never losing sight of the shotgun in Charles' hands. "After you, Charles."

Gleneagles Hall
Georgia

The rest of the hunt had been uneventful; both of them had shot a good number of birds, but the compliments had ceased. Less than five words had been exchanged between Stephen and Charles throughout lunch, or the rest of the hunt; Stephen himself chose to sit in one of the other cars and drolly text Trudy about the days' happenings, and told her to prepare for dinner.

Not needing to feign that they weren't in a romance anymore, Trudy was waiting at the front gate for the cavalcade of cars to return; despite how grimy Stephen felt after a whole day of hunting, she still ran up to and embraced him when he returned. After cleaning himself up and preparing for dinner, Trudy dragged him to meet Christine. It was a memorable, if slightly awkward meeting; Christine was overjoyed upon finally seeing Stephen for the first time. She looked satisfied, somehow; content at seeing her grand-daughter had met someone who would take care of her. They talked about a lot of things, until the sun went down; then another po-faced butler summoned the duo for the dinner with Charles that had been a long time coming.

Grouse, of course, was the main course of the night. They'd scarcely begun eating before Charles began talking.

"So. Over the past few days, I've talked to both of you. Tried to get you, Trudy, to come back to Georgia, take your rightful place by my side."

"Not gonna happen."

"I always knew you were an ungrateful daughter, anyway. So I talked to Stephen. Turns out he can't see the benefits of joining me, either."

"I've already told you, it won't happen."

"What would it take —"

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing would be able to convince us, Mr. Harrison, because we've got our minds made up already!"

"He's right. Stephen's right, Dad. I'm not going to give up my career for you." Trudy put her fork and knife down; in the silence of the room, the resounding clang forced both men's attentions to be paid to her. "I knew this would happen the moment I was told Grandma was in poor health. And yeah, it worked. I wouldn't have passed the chance to see Grandma one last time, but I knew the moment I stepped here I'd be subjected to you trying to get me to give up my football career, one more time. No. It stops here." Trudy inhaled. Stephen decided to focus on his food. Mm. Gamey.

"I'm not coming back. Ever again. My heart left this place years ago, when you didn't want me to play football. Me leaving for Kingsbury was the final step in completely removing myself from here. When we leave, tomorrow, that's it. I've made my peace with Walter, Grandma, Bridget, all the people in my life who've cared about me. There's nothing left for me here, least of all you and your business empire. I don't give a single shit about it. I don't care that I'm being an "ungrateful daughter." I never lived up to your expectations, anyway. I reminded you too much of Mom, that's why you never —"

"Don't you bring your mother into this —"

"So that's it. I don't care what happens. Tomorrow, we're going. We've indulged your hospitality for way too long, anyway, and you've already received our answer. Nothing will change our minds. There's nothing more for the two of us here. We're done."

"Fine." Charles stood up, and walked to the nearest window. He stared out into the Georgian night sky for a while, before speaking.

"Go. If that's what you want so badly. I won't ever call you again. For all intents and purposes, you're not my daughter anymore. We're no longer family; you're no longer part of the Harrisons. Do what you will. Be with whomever you want," he said, glancing at Stephen. "It's not my business anymore. I'll arrange transportation for you two to Kingsbury. Tomorrow. Dawn. Then that's it. Your training camp's been rescheduled to the usual location, in Straton. We officially have nothing more to do with each other."

"But be very, very careful what you wish for, Trudy."

Tumbra vs Jeruselem - World Cup 91, Matchday 2 @ Fjlarkfjall Arena, Þingsnitz
Expected Starting Lineup: 1 - Nick Barker; 2 - Ryan Hughes, 4 - Stephen Kerr, 5 - Harry Henderson, 19 - Chris Carter; 6 - Trudy Harrison, 15 - Mark Finnemore, 23 - Susan Monaghan; 17 - Valerie Wells, 9 - Robin Vaughn; 11 - Nick Riordan
Bench: 12 - Andrew Taylor, 13 - Victoria Jones; 18 - Nicholas Moss, 14 - Ian Ashburn, 20 - Douglas Moore, 3 - Nigel Harris; 8 - Vincent Hicks, 10 - Phil Cole, 16 - Andrew Fisher; 7 - George Hilton, 21 - Lynne Crossley, 22 - Bruce Nolan

by **Nephara** » Wed Jun 08, 2022 10:57 am

It was just another night...
Corvistone's cold cut straight to the bone. You could feel wet through without the barest hint of rain, just from the sensation of your own chills sticking to you and melting away down your spine...
But I was indoors. By the same old watering hole I'd stayed in these past months, awaiting the call... dreading it... hoping for it... hungering for it... ... . . .
Man came in, put his coat on the rack. Thunder struck on a clear night. Not out there. In here. My heart, you feel. The barman told him not to put his coat on the rack. Man ignored him, save only to ask for two shots of tequila. Neat. "The way you like it, Ms. Ruskin."
I chuckled, despite myself. Old MBTC joke, that. Where's tequila come from? No-one knows. No-one's allowed to know. It just is.
We had fun, at the MBTC.
The barman said there was no tequila. I kept from killing him. Vodka would do.
"Been waiting a long time," I told the man known only as Mr. Judges.
"Yeah... I can see that. You've grown cobwebs, metaphorical and damn near literal."
"It's an old coat."
"We need you, Ana." Your man leaned forward, handed me a sheet of paper. "Got something high-risk comin' up. The highest risk."
I asked him: "What's this?"
He just sneered and tapped the top of the paper with a chipped-glass fingernail. It said: World Cup 91 Pop-Out-'n'-Play Wall Chart For Kids (And Adults Who Never Grew Up).
"Damn."
"No, not there. Look at our group."
I looked out past the stencils of the kraken and the bin-fire representing the hosts. Then I whistled, at a high enough frequency the skylight shattered above us, showering glass onto the poor proles sat to my left. "Those three words..."
"The..."
"Holy..."
"Empire."
We shared the moment, not breaking eye contact as the barman threw us both out onto the streets.

In the business, we call Nepharim a low-magic people.
People are superstitious. They'll call in a witch doctor or an exorcist to purge or talk to ghosts, call in a wizard to throw curses. A few of them have some talent, even. But nothing that can't be explained away as mere coincidence.
These people. These poor bastards. They'll know, too, that there's magic elsewhere. They'll know other things, too.
The highest-risk were Big Relo 1 and Big Relo 2. BiRe1 and BiRe2. That's what they're known as, in ever more cryptic Ministry-speak. Nephara were once in Serenes, that was known, in a little peninsula. Then they were on the northwestern tip of Esportiva. Now they're in the southeast of Rushmore. You ask someone and they will know all of these things, and some protective function in their brain ever stops them from drawing the conclusion: the landmass moved. The human brain defends itself firmly. It stops itself asking questions that can't be answered. But sometimes, those natural barriers face an overwhelming preponderance of troubling things and crumble in their face.
The consequences can be devastating.
Wondering where the little countries go, that's low-risk. Nobody really cares. Getting involved in geopolitics? Everyone knows what questions not to advance, what to take for granted. Why doesn't anyone know anyone from Rhodesiah? Who knows? But it's where the grain comes from. Who ships it? It just comes.
It works itself out.
But it was all easier before football. Football sends the edges grinding against each other, and there's not much that can confront someone worse than playing against, grinding up against, something that is so clearly and flagrantly not of your world...
We're trained to handle it, and even we face a high rate of attrition. Most recruits go mad within months. Footballers have to be sturdy, they're exposed to a low rate of constant Challenging Thoughts; they're the ones who actually go to the Vanishing Lands, who have to play alongside
But the Holy Empire... that's a wild card.
"Can't just play it off as disfiguring diseases, I shouldn't think," I tossed up, aloud.
"No."
"Not while retaining that skill at football."
"I mean, most likely the Empire will win."
That didn't click. "Aren't we champions?"
He snorted. "It's been over a year, by Calorborne Reckoning." That meant more than five or six by the mayfly hours. Over a decade in Audioslavia, another thing the proles weren't meant to think about, but a medium-intensity Challenging Thought that trained operatives were meant to challenge themselves with constantly. "You've been away too long..."
"I never asked to be unretired."
"You were begging for it. And we'll need your authority. Last time was... a cinch, by comparison. People didn't wonder why they were playing eleven of Juan Tzimesces, managed by a Juan Tzimesces. Nobody ever entertained they really were the same guy..."
"Yeah." I pulled out a cigarette and lit it, took two puffs, threw it to the floor and ground it under my heel. "Drastic measures will be required."
"I was hoping you'd say that. Just like old times, eh?"
"Just like old times..."

I returned the stare of the Nephara manager. Elaine Koeller was proud as any mother, and here was I, telling her she could not handle her brood. "You're fucking joking."
"I'm not."
"I'm not starting a teenager in a fucking World Cup match."
"That isn't my concern. The fact is that on the psychological examination,
"They're perfectly normal!"
"Based on what evidence?"
"There's... a press release! Saying they're perfectly bloody normal!"
I sighed. "And how much footage of the team have you seen?"
"Look, I don't..." Koeller's anger made her fluster, and her fluster made her angry. "What kind of psych exam do you call this, anyway? The lads were bloody traumatised! Stapling their eyes open to watch pictures of... foreign lands nobody's ever heard of but that sound weirdly familiar anyway? Footage of landmasses vanishing? Pictures of di Bradini but with the word 'DAVID' flickering in and out in black and white font? You gave Tami Ulmer a bloody epileptic fit!"
"It's a pity. She evaluated at a 91."
"Well, she's obviously not bloody fit for purpose for tonight - yes, tonight! The match is in three hours, you know that, right? And I have to get them out there?"
"Better lose the match than have them lose their lives. But Kurtishi scored just a 14 on the evaluation, Harper a 22. I promise you, Vetiver's 97--"
"Oh, I don't believe this!"
"-- means she is likely to be the strongest performer on the day anyway--"
"So I have to put up with the press! I have to put up with smarmy fucking analysts! And now I have a government ministry breathing down my throat..."
"We have your best interests at heart," I promised.
The intensity of Koeller's glower multiplied, like rabbits in heat. I had to admire the woman's spirit. Most Nepharim have it beaten into them early that the MBTC are never to be questioned; to shut down and do as they're told. But this woman had a World Cup to win. I admired it. I also did not want anyone to die on my watch. "I'm fucking not starting Felixe fucking Vetiver in a World Cup match against the reigning fucking champions.
"You swear a lot," I observed, because she did.

I woke up several hours later, a black mark both real and metaphorical covering most of my eye. But there was enough to squint through to check the results on my phone.
The lead headline was still the scoreline. So nobody, at least, had died.
I smirked. Fate had her favourites.
It was just another night...

The Holy Empire 2 - 3 Nephara
(4-2-3-1) 1 - Provost; 17 - Meadows, 5 - Clevinger, 6 - Scales, 3 - Lind; 4 - Constantine, 8 - March; 13 - Reed, 23 - Kvasina, 11 - Marinca (16 - Crowcombe 63'); 10 - Harper (9 - Kurtishi 19' (21 - Vetiver 26'))
Goals: Vetiver 39', Vetiver 54', Vetiver 70' pen

INJURIES:
Harper (psychotic break)
Kurtishi (psychotic break)
Marinca (ankle)

Lineup vs. Adab
(4-2-3-1) 1 - Provost; 17 - Meadows, 5 - Clevinger, 6 - Scales, 3 - Lind; 4 - Constantine, 8 - March; 13 - Reed, 23 - Kvasina, 16 - Crowcombe; 21 - Vetiver

by **Saint Eleanor** » Wed Jun 08, 2022 11:02 am

OOC: Teletext source. Squid confirmed to me that the eleven bolded names in his roster were the starters for EXT-SQR and is otherwise perfectly fine with the contents of this RP.

Saint Eleanor 0-1 Squidroidia: Tetsuo proves the difference in remarkably tight opener
Chief Football Correspondent Jamie Rodgers summarises a World Cup debut showing that Saint Eleanor had no right to win. Or draw. Or lose.
Originally published on Tuesday 27th June 2000

A well-placed drive from Squidroidian midfielder Shiba Tetsuo condemned Saint Eleanor to a defeat on their initiation to the World Cup finals, a match where both sides should nonetheless be commended for fighting to the last and which either of them could have realistically won.

The Inklings came into this match with prior experience, prior preparation, and - at least in relative terms - prior success. The White Stars did not. And it was indeed Squidroidia who seized much of the early initiative in Altendalur: Sho Itō could have opened the scoring within forty-five seconds but clattered his effort against the crossbar, allowing for John Bailey to easily collect. And it only took a few moments before Henriette Brooks, herself an actual Inkling, darted her way forty yards up the pitch and almost rounded Bailey, yet flubbed her effort wide when push came to shove. She tried again shortly afterwards but was impeded by Liam West; although Jessica Martin collected his long ball and, as is her wont, moved into the penalty area, her effort hammered against the outside netting, never seriously troubling Kaede Akiyama.

From there, it was the White Stars who had the advantage, with Steve Pilchard latching onto a straight Harriet Williams pass that evaded Baldric Bertolini and Muto Toki, but forced Akiyama into his first serious save of the game. Martin ran into the seemingly impenetrable wall that was Florianne Meeuwessen way too often, but was bailed out by an onrushing Exandra Davies on a couple of occasions; although she was too optimistic a couple of times, Katie O'Donnell chested one of her better crosses and could well have taken aim from close range - but was denied by Akiyama again. There was some Squidroidian attacks, which threatened but rarely felt like certainties or horrendous misses: Brooks gambled on another long dribbled followed by a neat effort again, but although Bailey went one way, her effort clattered against the post on the other side; meanwhile, Makino Hideo tried to go over rather than around but could only find the front couple of rows in the stands. Surely not?

But as it did for Juvencus at the National Liberation Arena, the sucker punch for Saint Eleanor came from a throw-in - and a long, deep one, at that. This time, Kabuto Tadakata who got his head on it, allowing Tetsuo to collect and hold onto the ball for a few seconds before giving it to Hideo. Although the Squidroidian captain had his effort from range easily blocked by West, it was Tetsuo behind him who fed on the scraps that resulted, going past the Eleanorian backline and finding himself within fifteen yards of the goal before firing a powerful effort straight into the top right corner, well past Bailey's reach. No mess, no fuss, no nonsense - just a goal, as simple as you could possibly have it, on about as big a stage as you could imagine.

Saint Eleanor, still entirely unconvinced that a defeat would be inevitable even at this early stage, decided to use the final eight or so minutes of the first half to push forwards. Despite enjoying a couple of tolerable opportunities, their biggest shout came on the verge of first-half added time, when Tadakata got himself in the book for tripping Pilchard in a position that was slightly off-centre from goal, but still significant regardless. Williams spotted the ball and sent it wobbling across goal, which Akiyama did very well to palm away; David Newcastle, who had long since escaped the defensive muddle, thought he had snuck in the equaliser, but was almost immediately flagged offside.

The first half was one story: Squidroidia, after the earliest spell of advantage, fighting back against the Eleanorian tide that resulted - with great success. The second half, by contrast, was many different stories. Whose do you want to pick? Bridget Coombe's is particularly interesting: although both teams resorted to their official starting elevens today, she was nowhere to be seen despite her excellent performances in the final qualifiers. Why? The simple answer - and perhaps the best - is that the White Stars needed an attacking impulse from somewhere, somehow, and were definitely not content with simple damage limitation. On balance, and in retrospect, they barely succeeded at this task.

Of course, Williams and Pilchard started instead. She put in a quietly persistent performance against the Inklings on all fronts: demonstrating that she was no slouch in defence as she regularly tracked back to stop Hideo and Itō before the centrebacks could worry (efforts without which Squidroidia could have easily won by more than a single goal); underlying her passing skills by setting up a few serious chances and having one of the White Stars' best pass-completion rates in general; and mixing up her approaches to the free kicks she took, seriously testing Akiyama from almost thirty yards out with one and pumping it low for a dangerous Dekamela weMexala to get onto with another. He was, for all intents and purposes, Saint Eleanor's main man up front, eschewing his strikers and often - perhaps too often - attempting semi-speculative efforts. That is not to say he did not make passes, but hardly any were of great importance.

What of Tetsuo, the other playmaker, who was so brilliant before the interval? Unlike Pilchard, he was not the main attacking force in the team, but - despite a couple of overhit through passes - was astonishingly accurate and deserved to make Saint Eleanor pay even more than they did. After the Makosile striker had a quiet first half, he finally helped Hideo unlock the Eleanorian defence time and time again: whether it be a low but placed effort on the hour mark that Bailey just scraped away from the line or a first-time effort from the edge of the box ten minutes later that deserved better than flying six inches over the crossbar, he was astonishingly astute and underscored the sheer quality of the Inklings.

Wunderbar Quatro was the only Wunderbar to play in today's game - and my, was he good. He had the first big chance of the second half, a searching effort midway through opposition territory which Bailey just nudged over the bar, Although he had few efforts on goal, unlike those playing in front of him, his play had the hallmarks of somebody ten years older and wiser than him, knowing where to put passes, how the Inklings' fairly reserved wingbacks would respond to holdups, why skimming the ball to Tetsuo was more beneficial than just lumping the ball into the box, which Eleanorian moves should be cut out and which should just be let alone in hope of failure... put succinctly, he had an answer to almost any question you'd put to him.

That is more than can be said for most of the strikers. Only Hideo, especially his aforementioned linkup play to Tetsuo, can be seriously praised: Itō was by now being regularly impeded by West and Newbridge, who were much better at controlling and distributing the ball than they were in the circumstances that led to the Tetsuo goal, were concentrated on perhaps the single biggest challenge they had ever faced, and avoided unnecessarily rash moves in the process. The Eleanorian forwards were left straggling - and struggling - as a result of Pilchard's fairly unremarkable target practice, who got a few good efforts out there (such as O'Donnell's twisty attempt from distance and a couple of above-average weMexala headers) which were invariably thwarted by Akiyama. By contrast, Martin was now profiting more from one of the two exposed flanks, true to club form; she was the biggest threat to Akiyama's clean sheet in the second half, not only forcing some good saves but also having the best chance of the second half, an effort from width with twelve minutes to go that went off the inside of the post and back in play.

Meeuwessen, without support from any wide midfielders, had to run the line on the left all by herself, and actually had a better all-round performance than most expected; at times, she appeared to resemble a Squidroidian Cathy Winchester, calmly delivering the ball to the narrow midfield diamond, but she was sometimes more adventurous, watching out for danger and opportunity before pumping a hopeful ball forwards or even across the pitch. Her archnemesis on the day was Davies, who was more than her equal for a good spell of the game, not only tracking her down with the ball and forcing her into making split-second decisions, but also being adept at continuing to go forwards, provide backup for Martin, generally put her to the sword on the defensive front as well, and - perhaps alone among those who contributed to the White Stars' attack today - created good opportunities for her strikers.

And what of Bertolini, the better of the Inklings' centrebacks today? Unlike his Eleanorian counterparts, he was willing to take almost any measures necessary to defend the Squidroidian lead, a couple of informal warnings from the referee the cost of an otherwise comprehensive defensive show that went well beyond the textbook - and he was the one who cleared Martin's ill-fated effort away. But when Squidroidia had one final chance to double their lead, stick a fork in the tie and call it done - after Itō, having run Newbridge ragged right towards the end, won a late corner kick by forcing a deflection off the Grand Beach man - he headed miles wide. That, as it turns out, was the crescendo to what sometimes felt like a tense drama, sometimes an overly-epic opera, the final three or four minutes plus stoppage time petering out as a couple of hopeful attacks collapsed at the first sight of scrutiny. When the dust settled, you could hardly separate the two sides on possession, shots on target, passes (or pass completion), even on tackles or fouls - any metric, except for the most important one.

Some of my colleagues in other news outlets may be tempted to call this game boring, squalid, perhaps even a disappointment. However, Squidroidia are effectively the best team in Saint Eleanor's group, and the one whose existence is threatened the most: what else could have happened? And - had it not been for a haphazard, "every man for himself" attitude to attacking, instead of the vibrant, interdependent play we saw so often in the qualifiers - Saint Eleanor would have been in with more than a chance of a point, too. While this surely beats yesterday's curtain-raiser for entertainment value, when Nyowani Kitara and co-hosts Græntfjall crawled to a 0-0 draw, it is becoming clear that the White Stars are clearly not at the World Cup just to provide free points for everyone else, and they need to show that they are not over the next eight days. The best way to do that is to keep on improving - and start earning points - against the two Rushmori teams in their path.

Saint Eleanor 0
Squidroidia 1 (Shiba Tetsuo goal 38')

by **Squidroidia** » Wed Jun 08, 2022 11:45 am

You know, this might have been a bit more suitable for Farfadillis, but eh, screw it, it's the theme music for this journey.

The majesty of the World Cup. 32 nations, 2 host countries, 64 matches, 1 winner. It's the biggest event in sports bar none, a biannual celebration of the beautiful game that harbors memories of dreams lost and battles won, of spectacular finishes and heartbreakers of opening whistles. Winning the World Cup is putting your nation on the sporting map forever, coming up just short of it is a what if of epic proportions. Some teams are happy just to be here, others just want to lift that trophy at the end of the day. And then there was Squidroidia. A ragtag group of "squids and kids" in their 3rd consecutive appearance in this greatest show.

Matchday 1. Altendalur Stadion, well, Altendalur. The whale's ground, quite literally: Altenadur was born and raised on its fishing industry. Plenty a joke could be made about a citizen from this city catching a kraken, hell Græntfjall was practically built up on jokes related to kraken, but football was in the air. And also cold temperatures. Squidroidia manager Adam Johnson knew about the slightly below comfort temperatures his team would expect. The routines for training were all about keeping warm - More focus on sprinting, more focus on retaining heat. Getting the body warm was something Squidroidia wasn't really that used to when it came to World Cups - Okay, there was that Cup of Harmony which, to be honest, wasn't something to be giddy about, but the Inklings, as they were known, weren't into colder temperature football, even when the Squidroidian league played towards the colder months.

Their opponent was a newcomer to the World Cup by the name of Saint Eleanor. In many ways this match was like Squidroidia's against Brenecia 2 cycles ago - The new guard coming up against an established enemy. The White Stars, like Squidroidia, advanced to this stage via the playoffs, also like Squidroidia with a 2-2 tie with their opponents, in Saint Eleanor's case Juvencus, heading into the 2nd leg. While Squidroidia needed extra time to advance, Saint Eleanor's spot was confirmed by full time, ringing out 2-1 winners at home base and making the journey to the White Winter Queendom. For them, this was their biggest test yet, one that could very well set the tone for them heading into Nyowani Kitara on the 2nd matchday.

With the whistle blowing from the inside of the home of the whale, Squidroidia's World Cup proper campaign had truly started. Almost immediately Squidroidia had a chance to take the lead, but Sho Itō's first strike hit off the bar 45 seconds into the match. From there, Squidroidia actually felt like the dominated side, the newcomers flashing off their inexperience like it was actual experience. Steve Pilchard from Occidental Olympic got the ball off a pass from Harriet Williams and proceeded to give Akiyama his first assignment of the tournament - An assignment he understood. But the initial wave of newcomer's optimism went away. The duel of the average national teams skewed to Squidroidia, Florianne Meeuwessen controlling the backline like she was a stiff wall of bricks and the Inklings having their work cut out from them - Although not scoring a goal until the 38th minute.

SBN 1 Commentary by Takanaki Osa in Italics
"Throw-in now for Squidroidia, Yogi Korin has the ball. Long, long throw headed through by Tadataka, and Tetsuo has it. Now here's Hideo from far back, BLOCKED by the Eleanor defense! Tetsuo now has it, he's cut through the defense, and there's an OPENINGGGG!!! SQUIDROIDIA HAVE THEIR FIRST GOAL OF THIS WORLD CUP! SHIBA TETSUO INTO THE TOP CORNER! 1-0!!

The Squidroidians in Altendalur lit up. A strike well timed by Shiba Tetsuo got the Inklings 1-0 up, their wave crashing through Saint Eleanor's "Wow We Just Qualified For The World Cup" party and getting them to unleash a wave of their own, a wave that Squidroidia handled well in order to keep things where they stood heading into the break.

"Free kick for Saint Eleanor, Harriet Williams to take it. Strike taken well, SAVED BY AKIYAMA! An absolute statement by the netminder!"

The second half was one of controlled chaos. Many paths took the story to different directions, and yet there wasn't anybody who could advance it past the singular strike - Quatro's chaos fueled playstyle was on desplay, the 15 year old looking 25, 26, maybe even 27 as he managed the midfield and even got the first chance of the second half. Other Squidroidians up and down the pitch played their part as well, as the game went by as clean cut as you could expect, with the final whistle being blown and Squidroidia getting all 3 points.

"There it is, that's the whistle, get me the 40 Yen muscle pants because Squidroidia have started this campaign brilliantly! 1-0 against Saint Eleanor, and Squidroidia go, for the time being at least, on top of Group A!

The 40 Yen muscle pants joke was something Osa made up on the fly, just so you know.

Some Words from Adam Johnson

"I think we played brilliantly today. It wasn't the result some were hoping for, myself not included, but we played this team fair and square. Saint Eleanor, welcome to the World Cup. You played very well against us too and your team has some bright spots on it and will have plenty more into the future. Can't wait to see what you will do next."

"Any talk about my future will come after the next game against Græntfjall. Now is not the time."

"Yeah, the Wunderbars are still giving us hard times. Can you blame someone who has gone through the chaos of THAT time?"

"Now that you mentioned it, we shouldn't rate ourselves too highly if we do make the knockouts. Group D is a hell of a group and you don't expect yourselves getting to the Quarters when you are more likely than not facing a former world champion."

by **Ko-oren** » Wed Jun 08, 2022 2:07 pm

Half a year ago, everything seemed a-ok for Laurderinthen's cabinet, but a lot can change in a short time. Laurderinthen's second term was shaped around investing in infrastructure, including energy, IT, and actual physical roads and railroads. As always, providing for the people and doing so in a sustainable way is atop the list of priorities. Energy, therefore, is a key issue that warranted its own ministry: Mau Veldgozen's Environment, Energy, and Resources. Mau and his ministry have ordered construction in less connected areas, providing employment and geographic redundancy by placing facilities in western Finisterre - for the growing south Cote Austral market. IT is covered by a deputy minister ('secretary') by the name of Leonora Strandberg, under the ministry of Employment and Economy, and made sure that northeastern Dartha's small hub grew out to the nation's main IT hub and potentially one of Anaia's largest IT innovation centres. Most of those programmes were kicked off less than half a year ago, about halfway through everyone's term.

But that's half a year ago. Since then, a lot has changed. Not so much domestically, but internationally. Laurderinthen's secondary task was to improve Ko-oren's standing in a globalised world, and has done so incredibly well within Anaia - but harming ties with Atlantian Oceania - and political commentators are split in their judgment whether Laurderinthen's cabinet succeeded. Then, the Cardenao issue came along: a nation to our south with the capability of shutting down shipping routes with ties to Banija. And if you want to be a big boy nation - that's a threat. One with a small to zero risk of escalation, but still a potential pain in the behind for later. Laurderinthen has sought rapport with Cardenao, making sure that the southern shipping lanes will never shut us down, but to what extent are their promises valuable? How stable is Cardenao's government?

Seeking answers, the cabinet also looked for guidance in AUNTIE, the Anaian program for regional transport. If we can secure a decently priced route overland via Huayramarca, we can still do business. The northern shipping route around Quebec is also an option, but that takes longer. Quebec is a stable enough partner to us to trust, but like Cardenao, they too have Atlantian Oceanian ties.

Not that that is a problem. In fact, Ko-oren has, in its role as a regional officer of Anaia, tried to keep ties with AO nations as intact as possible. Ultimately, however, it was the choice of Laurderinthen's cabinet to join Anaia in the first place, so that clouds discussions.

Right now, we're looking ahead to next term: one that will undoubtedly revolve around international trade and defence, with the latter being a policy area that Ko-oren has forever neglected (but is it neglect if no Prime Minister ever wanted to touch on it?). Again, if we want to be a big boy nation, we have to have the hard power to go along with the soft power, and with western Anaia being more sparsely populated, it's upon us and our relatively small population to become a bonafide force in the area. A sizeable navy is a must for our current position. For that reason, the Secretary of Government, Henery Habborlain, has been instructed to look at improvements in the cabinet structure for next term: should we need new ministries? Departments? Secretaries? As defence is currently a small part of foreign affairs, it seems inevitable that it will become its own ministry in the future. During the current term, the number 12 played a big role - 12 ministries, 12 secretaries - but the number of either is set to increase a lot as we're trying to upscale. The (large) governments of Tumbra, Nova Anglicana, and Eura are fine inspirations, as long as they come with tried and tested methods to uphold Ko-oren's meritocracy and to avoid any situation such as Tumbra's with the Northlands - we cannot ever be tempted to try out imperialism, even with a bigger navy, or with any cabinet configuration.

At the same time, it's time for Ko-oren to elect a new parliament, with several changes to streamline the process in the future. The number of seats and the way to fill them shouldn't change (144 seats, with 48 going to our 48 voting/census districts (STV), and the rest divided in a national election (PR)). Within Ko-oren's meritocracy, the parliament has limited powers: they audit the ministries and secretaries, evaluate budgets, and recent policy changes say that parliament may, in extreme cases, block legislation. They can never propose new laws.

The many parties of Ko-oren are usually divided on their views of meritocracy vs democracy and centralisation vs regionalism. One more axis has made its way to our party politics: the 'classic' right-left split (conservative/liberal vs progressive/social). Seen as a 'foreign' thing that has no place in Ko-orenite politics, the founding of a Labour and a Liberal party have shown that those issues are relevant for us. A fourth axis has appeared in recent years: the Anaia-AO continuum. Some found the move to Anaia necessary so we could develop a new role for ourselves, while others found the security that a larger region like AO provided, valuable. The effect on our economy is still studied.

Either way, the upcoming election cycle is one that could see new, unlikely partnerships and the end to well-established coalitions.

by **Zwangzug** » Wed Jun 08, 2022 5:05 pm

"Hello! Greetings from the...from Rülândéá Çölíséá, home of such distinguished clubs as Mâ Âlâmëómë and Dí Maozöxê. Esther Axelrod-Conway will be hoping her experience with Mâ Âlâmëómë helps steady her. I'm Melinda Pross, and with me is Tobias Hilbert."

"Hi, everyone. Zwangzug's opponents in this opening match will be the Independent Athletes from Quebec, and it should be noted that the Grim Reapers are no strangers to grueling conditions. In fact, as part of federation 'punishment' for perceived underachievement last cycle, they've been holding many practices in the brutal Szoirsian desert, nearby in...in Farfadillis."

"Do you think that's made them ready to succeed here?"

"Well, I'm not sure, Melinda. Obviously there's lots of cases of teams that practice or play in unusual conditions using it to gain an edge--look at our country's high-altitude conditioning, or even the Vilitan Rebel Base--so I think it certainly has prepared them for this encounter. But whether these strategies work as a punishment handed down from the federation? I'd be concerned if I thought my bosses wanted to make life as an international footballer harder and more stressful than it already is. Plus, the thirty-two teams in the proper are only a small fraction of the world of talent out there, with the potential for springing upsets--seeing qualification as an expectation can easily turn dangerous."

"Intriguing. What's the outlook for Zwangzug?"

"Well, Quincy Dulk-Fough is looking great coming off that playoff performance against TJUN-ia, but it's just as important for the defense to dig in and be ready for the Reapers' attack. None of these players were here in 85, but Chevanthi Arokiaraj was a strong leader and handled the stress--Kausalya Vizirani will be hoping to emulate her tonight."

"Thanks, Tobias. Let's take it down to the field..."

"...where risk factors include not only cagafuegos-blessed fires, but also frogs whose poison literally sends you to hell."

"How do they know?"

"What?"

"Are people returning from the fires of hell to blame the frogs, Melinda? That seems like it would be spiritually newsworthy, but I hadn't heard of this before."

"You know, the multiverse is a very diverse place--"

"Or is this just a cheap shot at 'you're already in hell if you live in Farfadillis'? Because that's a bit unfair, they have a remarkably blithe--"

"I'll just interrupt you there, Tobias, because Puyo-Sachar challenging from a distance--she's evaded Ukaleq, and Middleton has to dive--it's through! Nancy Puyo-Sachar strikes first for Zwangzug here in the nineteenth minute, and they'll feel a little more confident defending their lead. But with a side like Quebec, you can't expect to play a very defensive game."

"Now, if it was being used as an entheogen, I could see..."

"...Kang, at thirty-three, still an important member of this Reapers side."

"She, too, plays in Rülândéá during the regular season."

"Kang passes up to Huitema-Omeasoo, some of these Quebecois names can really match us for hyphenated diversity. Huitema-Omeasoo shoots, and Pimbura bats it away--but here's Kweon! Eloise Kweon steps up to smash home the rebound."

"And the weaknesses in Pimbura's easygoing approach are visible here. She can make it look easy, but is vulnerable without a strong follow-through."

"1-1 here in the forty-eighth, as Quebec score their first goal at this proper."

"And you can hear the delight radiating from the massive Bubonic Plague over in the eastern stands. For those of you at home, I should clarify that the Bubonic Plague refers to the visiting Quebecois fans and not a mass of disease that's sprouted in the stands, I recognize with Farfadillis it can be difficult to tell..."

"...still tied here in the seventy-fourth, both teams looking for an edge. Nguyen in possession, passes to Axelrod-Conway, who dribbles--oh, and a rough tackle from Chewbacca. Richard Braddock, the Tumbran referee, will whistle and give a free kick."

"Chewbacca remonstrates, he really didn't like that call--it looks like he's trying to choke Braddock, although maybe it's just the camera angle--and Braddock will him a yellow."

"Chewbacca still moaning, but he'll get over it. Haugen steps up to take the free kick. Kim tries to clear it away, but here comes Dulk-Fough, he gets his head to it, and that's in! 2-1 to Zwangzug, and this could be the difference..."

"...Lükækš Væñøœrëñbérghüïś a surprisingly subdued figure on the touchline after the, uh, undisclosed catastrophes that befell his homeland recently. Now still gesturing for one final effort, but Braddock will whistle! That's it, Zwangzug emerge with a full three points from this opening match."

"We'll send it down to the studio to catch you up on the highlights from other games, and hopefully we'll be back with you from elsewhere in Farfadillis for game two."

"Although given how transportation is here, don't count on it."

by **Valanora** » Wed Jun 08, 2022 7:27 pm

Pageantry, that is what is expected for fans of the Marauders when they tune into or attend a game of the national team. They expect to be entertained and enthralled with the art of the game put on display by a team that is routinely an exceptionally techincally skilled group of players that can put on those sort of majestic performances. An appreciation for the beauty of the game is ingrained deeply into the fans of the sport within the Eternal Empire, it is why that most clubs inside the Empire tends to be teams who will press for an attack rather than simply find ways to build an impenetrable defense and attempt to score on the counter instead. While there is a certain beauty and skill that comes with being a defensively astute side, it is not the sort of artistic and enthralling experience that fans often crave for when they are taking in the occasion, with a few obvious and notable exceptions (yes, we are looking you at Ko-oren and your desire to kill the game with your System Karela). There is an absence of pageantry and beauty in those sides, in those sort of engagements that leaves Vanorian fans wanting.

Throughout the qualifiers, the fans of the Marauders were graced with numerous occasions of such entertainment from their side, the Marauders finished with the best goal difference in the entire qualifiers (even if they were a tad short from finishing with the best record overall). Goal and displays of individual brilliance were in high quantity and the fans were able to take in these occasions and enjoy themselves immensely, a full belief that all was well with the Marauders even if they spent the majority of the qualifying campaign chasing down the automatic qualification. That beautiful way of playing the game and looking to advance when it was applicable allowed the goal difference to inflate to the record that it did and eventually was the very consequence for the Eternal Empire side earning their qualification into the Finals, after finishing level on points with fellow Atlantian Oceania nation Hapilopper on points but goal difference being the tiebreaker. Some might say it was a tad unfair to Happilopper, having had the better head to head record, while others would argue it was just desserts for a Marauders side that had truly been playing the beautiful game for most of the campaign.

That performance was expected to continue into the Finals, where the wonderful talent that was in the team would be able to once again showcase their pageantry on the most grand of stages for all of the world to see. Lead by the industrious yet also artistic in his own way captain of Laborious Hawk, the Marauders were supposed to spring into the Finals as if they were doing a waltz in the international arena. The group was somewhat difficult but their technical skill and beauty that which the side was known for would be able to see them find passage safely through the group and journey once more into the manic episodes that are the knockout stages of the competition. Beautiful artistry can often be found in those most manic of periods where both majesty as well as tragedy sit upon the edge of a knife and the wrong stroke risks sending you toppling over the wrong edge and from brilliance and into the melancholy that is tragedy and all that which broods and storms over in such circumstance. It is a circumstance that those in the national team and who have been fans of it know all too well, it is the exhilarating depth of the unknown and creating history in the moment.

Yet that is not what has come to pass in the first game of the tournament in the White Winter Queendom of Græntfjall, there was no brilliance or majesty to be found but only that specter of tragedy that strikes at the most inopportune of occasions. Paired with Tumbra, a side that has been on the rise and sitting on the edge of the top ten rankings of the world, it was a devilish dance that the Marauders were tasked with attempting to take in stride on the first attempt. It was a stride though that was mistook and Tumbra seized the moment as you would expect anyone in this competition and given the opportunity to do so would, making it their vintage display at the expense of disappointment for the Marauders, where all the pageantry and beauty that had come before was absent, not even putting a goal on the board to reinforce that glamor. The dance now is in a swirling rotation and the Marauders need to find the rhythm in the next match to save face or risk having an early curtain call when there had been such high hopes for something grander and greater to be adored.

by **Delaclava** » Wed Jun 08, 2022 7:36 pm

Marc Champagne sat on the ground, defeated. It had already been a tough qualifying campaign full of growing pains, and for all the success his team had, finally making it back to the World Cup, Champagne at center back had been widely proclaimed the weak point of the team, with pundits wondering why this kid was getting the nod over Zhusupov, over Gusev or Zane Davis or Nazaretian. And all he could really do was take it in stride and keep improving day in, day out, not that it was very easy.

Now, it was the biggest game of his life and an entirely new level, and Pasarga had just blown by the back line for its third goal in the first forty minutes, Champagne overcommitting towards Elek Salai and leaving wide open Eustacio Corral Magana, Champagne diving back in vain as Corral punched in the finish past a helpless George Ross. The Pasargan fans cheered, the Delaclav fans hung the heads, and the other 99 percent neutrals turned away with disinterest and began to chatter about their evening plans.

Champagne looked up and saw the slight figure of Kazuo Martin standing over him. Martin held out his hand to help up Champagne. "Come on," he said as Marc stood up. It didn't matter that Kazuo had only learned Marc's name just days before, that Kazuo hadn't been there for all the team-building of the past months, or that Marc was so much less experienced than his peers. They were in this together. "I know you didn't come this far to stop now. It's tough. But we can do this."

Champagne nodded and took his mark. From there, he steadied himself and the Phoenixes recovered. They patched up the holes and got to work on a comeback. In the second half, Lukas Meyer put his team on the board, Martin Bartoš made it a one-goal game. One could say Delaclava didn't lose, they just ran out of time. But they did run out of time and took a loss that could have been crushing - if only they let it.

Because after the final whistle sounded, and the Phoenixes and Wanderers exchanged pleasantries, Martin found Champagne again, gave him an encouraging squeeze on the shoulder, and told him: "If we only have two more games, we're going to make every minute count."

by **Pemecutan** » Wed Jun 08, 2022 7:56 pm

Part 4.11

Partayasa looks as if he is compressed his anger. The meeting with Cakranegaran Minister of Foreign Affairs have not been running well. Partayasa have to change his schedule after the news about Fakhrul Azmi caught reached him. He was supposed to meet Rarungani Prime Minister. But meeting with Salawi just make him almost losing control.

'I'm sorry, Mr. Partayasa. I can't do that. Azmi was caught in our soil. He did his action in our soil, de jure. We can't let him being detain in Pemecutan. He will be process here. In Cakranegara. That's our final decision,' confirmed Salawi for the second time.
He hope that his explanation can be accepted by Partayasa.

'But it is our facility that was targeted. We are the one who's being harmed,' argue Partayasa.
'You can follow the judicial process here to see everything. We are doing it transparently. Your team will be involved in the thorough investigation. But he will be process here judicially. We can't deport him to Pemecutan. I hope you understand about this,' Salawi still on his decision.

Partayasa walk away from the Minister's office with a red face. He is really sealed his anger. He can't believe Salawi do that. On the other note, Partayasa also doesn't trust with Cakranegara justice. He afraid that Azmi might lose or get mild sentence. He surely will ask Minister of Law and Justice to oversee the case. Salawi have give them permission to get involved in the investigation. Their accomplish will be caught too. For the sake of both nations security and also the region.

BEFORE THE STORM

Kusumajaya arrived at Pemecutan capital after a hectic days at Daulapura. The AMAN meeting went fast and ended with a good result. Fortunately everyone agree to not meddling with Sendhangite internal issue. Although he is quite concern about that country situation. But the country have a problem too with the caught of Fakhrul Azmi. He haven't got the update news yet from Partayasa. Sometimes he feels sorry for Partayasa. In a situation like this, he is the one who is getting very busy.

'Is there any news yet from Partayasa?' Kusumajaya ask to his secretary as he enter his office.
'Not yet, Sir. He is still in a meeting with Mr. Salawi,' answer the secretary.
'Okay, try to contact him later and inform me,' ask Kusumajaya again. The secretary is nodded.

Inside the office, he checks on his E-mail and see an inbox from Soracana Islands. A private mail direct from the King of Soracana. He wonders what is going on in the state. Their government have been calm down after they give them the referendum schedule. Kusumajaya's eyebrows twitch as he read the mail. It can't be, he murmured.

Partayasa wash his face to calm himself. He refrain to call the Patih Agung with an anger still consumed him. He has heard the news that Patih Agung Kusumajaya have arrived safely in Pemecutan when he is reaching the hotel where he is staying during his visit to Cakranegara. He rub his face with the towel to rinse to water from his hair. Adjust his clothes before he walk to the study room. He try to do a video call with Kusumajaya.

Not long after, he is connected with Patih Agung. Partayasa told everything about his meeting with Salawi to Kusumajaya. The Patih Agung silently listening to every words from Partayasa. He exhale calmly as Partayasa end his report.

'I'm thanking you for your great determination about the case. But we do on the other side for this case. We can't ask them to deport him even though it is our facility that was harmed,' say Kusumajaya calmly.
'But, Sir. Can we really trust them to solve this case?' argue Partayasa.
'We have to,' answer Kusumajaya. 'All that we can do is oversee the case. We can ask Minister of Law and Justice to sent our best people to collaborated with Cakranegaran officers,' add Kusumajaya.
'I feel that my meeting is useless,' say Partayasa.
'It's not useless. We get the confirmation from them that we will be involved in the investigation. That is the most important part so we can make sure that they do it properly,' explain Kusumajaya.
Partayasa nodded.
'So after this, I will go to Rarungan as planned,' informed Partayasa.
'Are you okay with it? Or do you want to postpone it?' confirmed Kusumajaya.
'It's okay. I'll finished the visit immediately and back to Pemecutan,' answer Partayasa.
'Take your time. I might have to visit Soracana too,' say Kusumajaya accidentally.
'Is there something happening there?' ask Partayasa curiously.
'Oh nothing. Just ordinary visit,' say Kusumajaya with an awkward smile.
'Okay then. I'll take a flight to Rarungan tomorrow,' Partayasa decided.
'That's good. Take some rest,' advice Kusumajaya before their connection is ended.

Partayasa walk to his bedroom. He looks out the window. Another praying call was heard. It's already noon. Maybe he can take a walk a little. Getting some refreshing in the city. Didn't the Patih Agung ask him to get some rest? A little walk can refresh his mind too.

'How's everything?' ask Hambali to his men.
'Everything is under control, Sir,' answer one of his men.
'Are you sure? Have you double check everything? We can't be seen involved in the incident,' reminded Hambali.
'We did, Sir. Or do you want us to check it again?' wonder the men.
'No need. Just always be cautious and spied the palace. We have to know everything that happen in Ampenan. We can't be missed,' request Hambali.

Both of his men nodded before walk away from his office. The caught of Fakhrul Azmi makes him so worry. He can't sleep at night. His fear is succumbed him. He can't be caught. He can't be seen to involved. He will lose his chance if it does. He try to sit and do his job as governor although his mind is travelling everywhere. And then...

'I'm sorry, Sir. Someone is here to meet you,' informed his secretary.
Hambali become alert. He doesn't remember that he expected any guest today. Before he can answer, his office door is opened wider. The secretary try to prevent this person to enter but the person insist. Hambali try to familiarize himself with the figure but he can't seems to remember anyone.

'Greeting, Hambali. Long time no see,' say the man as he take off his hat.
Hambali looks shock and surprised. 'You!' he exclaim.

by **Savigliane** » Wed Jun 08, 2022 7:56 pm

FIND YOURSELF

9. Destino

Bianca Fiore had never spoken to Violette Bartois before. The notoriously private politician had allowed President Danielle Bernard-Ricci and PM Caccini to represent her interests at the debates Fiore had been invited to, and the ex-footballer had barely known who she was before entering politics. So when the invitation came to meet with the leader of the Alliance des Sociaux-Democratés, she hadn't known what to expect. In slightly more normal times, she would've just said no - public perception put Populistas and Alberto Caccini in the driver's seat of the Interdimensional Travel Task Force that Bianca's party fiercely opposed. But from what Bianca had heard from Evangelista Rizzuto, ASD was just as culpable.

But the situation had changed quickly in the past week. The ITTF, previously dismissed as hopeless and as a waste of money, had managed to create a portal back to Savigliane's original reality. The exact details were still hazy - the government had been incredibly private in their dealings with the Old World - but the scientists had promised that widespread public use would be possible within months. With the election near-imminent, it had become clear that Piano di Dios only had one more chance to stop the insanity that had taken over Acqui Bollente. And with the polls swinging wildly as an entire nation grappled with the consequences of what had been created, what had been a decisive victory for Piano had suddenly become hazy.

All of this bounced in Bianca's mind as she entered - a few minutes late, as Evangelista Rizzuto had taught her - the cold white office of the most powerful woman in the nation. "Violette," she started, "nice to finally meet you." "Likewise," came the reply. "And congratulations."

Bianca paused, startled. "For what, the polling? God knows you've put a wrench in that lately."

"No, of course not," Violette Bartois replied, a wan smile finding her lips. "You won. You got what you wanted."

"...I don't think so."

"Haven't you? The ITTF has many different task forces. Now, some of them haven't been so successful. They've found it basically impossible to transport all of Savigliane, the country and the land itself, back to the Old World. To undo the portal event. If that had happened - well, that evidently goes against everything you stand for, bringing the country itself home. But this new breakthrough? It's come from another team. A few small portals to connect us to the Old World, to bring home those who are lost, perhaps to re-establish trade if it is still mutually beneficial - god knows we'd make a killing exporting Anaian products back through the portal. But bringing the country back? Impossible. So congratulations. You set out to stop our country from going back to the Old World. And now, we aren't."

"You aren't for now," Bianca said levelly, averting Bartois' stare. "But you and Caccini are just going to keep giving de Rossi whatever he needs until he finds a way back. Besides, you know opening the portal will just tear the country apart - who will go back to what they think is home? And who'll be left to pick up the pieces again?"

Bartois raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you say the Old World was a shithole? Seems to me that traffic would be one-way. And look. ASD, Populistas - we're willing to cut a deal with you. Really! There's potential for us to work together and craft a Portal Policy that both sides of the aisle can be a part of."

"Yeah? And what's the catch?"

"The catch is that we may be able to work with you. But we sure as hell can't work with Rizzuto and his cronies. If you want to be a part of this, you have to renounce Piano di Dios."

Bianca scoffed, grasping the necklace she was wearing. "Of course. This is just a fucking power play, isn't it? You take out your main competition so you can stay in power, and then you cut me out of policy once you've won."

"Of course not. But I figured you'd have your doubts. Whatever concessions you want from us on this...we still have Parliament for a few weeks. We'll get something through. And then, once that happens, you can pull out." Sensing doubt, she leaned forward. "I mean, aren't you getting exactly what you wanted from all of this? You never agreed to lead Piano because you stood for the religious fundamentalism, or the hate of immigrants, or any of that. You were just doing what you needed to do to get to this meeting. You can drop the politics and go back to i cigni-"

"-no," she said quietly, then steeled herself again. "No. I won't do it."

Violette Bartois had to laugh. "You're going to pass up on everything you want to roll the dice on some far-right nutjob winning you the election?"

"Maybe what I want has changed," she said coldly, standing up. "But thanks for the offer."

"Good luck in the elections then," Violette replied. "May the best woman win." She stood and watched the footballer-turned-politician stroll out of her office, then called to her secretary. "Jason," she said, "I want you to get me Adrian Toscani on the line as soon as possible. No, I don't fucking care when the World Cup is. He promised me that would work."

World Cup 91 Group Stage, Matchday One: Savigliane 2 - 0 Trolleborg
Starting Lineup: (3-4-3) D'Ambrosio; Tibère (Garcia 64), Dutto, Blanco; Palomer, Chastain, Arnaudo, Sauvageon (Cambiaso 75); Roux, Squarciafichi (Rinaldi 81), Toscani
Goals: Roux 31, Arnaudo 56

A composed defensive performance(?) from Ichi Tuzzio's men saw Trolleborg stifled en route to a comfortable 2-0 win. While the Trolls threatened early, they were unable to make much of it, and I cigni came away with all three points. When Morten Kroonquist hit the woodwork from just five yards out in the sixth minute, it certainly didn't seem like Nico D'Ambrosio would be keeping a clean sheet. But once wunderkind Valérien Tibère got his nerves under control, the defense completely shut down Trolleborg, conceding just two shots in the entire second half despite the Trolls' attacking style. Tibère (later replaced by Adélaïde Garcia), Gianmarco Dutto, and Chiara Blanco were all brilliant, leaving very little work for D'Ambrosio in the net (although the Eura-based goalkeeper still handled his duties ably, aside from a poorly-handled corner that Kasper Wolters luckily headed wide.

Despite the Trolls' early push, though, it would be the Swans to strike first. It came from an extended spell of possession, somewhat uncharacteristic of a Tuzzio team that emphasizes vertical transitions (then again, it's still less weird than being the only team to keep a clean sheet on the Farfish side of the World Cup). Federico Arnaudo, quickly growing into a new midfield role, sprang ably forwards with the ball at his feet, opening things up for a pass to a relatively unmarked Adrian Toscani on the right touchline. After a one-two with Thea Squarciafichi, Toscani whipped a dangerous cross into the box that got past everyone - before Anne-Marie Roux popped up at the far post, feet outstretched, to bundle it past Jesper Krough. Not the prettiest of goals, but after six years away from the World Cup, it came as a huge relief to the Swans faithful.

Savigliane continued to grow into the match and came out of the tunnel for the second half even stronger. It would be Federico Arnaudo, a somewhat unlikely goalscorer, to double the Swans' advantage shortly after the second half began. Thea Squarciafichi was played through by Óceane Chastain, who had a strong performance on both sides of the pitch but saw her close-range shot parried wide by Krough at his near post. Unfortunately for the group's fourth seeds, though, the ball fell to Arnaudo in acres of space, and the Falourr midfielder took advantage to whip a low, hard shot to the opposite post, leaving Krough stranded. Trolleborg came alive more in the dying minutes of the match, with star midfielder Morten Troll nearly taking the nation by surprise by going under the wall with a late free-kick. But just like everything else the Trolls had thrown at them, the Savigliano defense was prepared for the moment, with D'Ambrosio getting low and parrying it away yet again to keep the clean sheet and send the Swans into MD2 with all the momentum.

LINEUP TO PLAY KANDORITH, MD2: (3-4-3) D'Ambrosio; Tibère, Dutto, Blanco; Palomer, Chastain, Arnaudo, Sauvageon; Roux, Squarciafichi, Toscani

World Cup 91 [roleplays]

World Cup 91 Pre-Group

Endless, Episode 5

WC91Q Playoff Leg 2 v Cabo Azure + World Cup 91 Group C Prev

Alan Eldridge on Alan Eldridge

Match report: Saint Eleanor 0-1 Squidroidia

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