World Cup 95 Roleplay Thread

[Cassadaigua]

Yakk’s Success Is Not A Surprise,
by Caitlyn Dufresne, Concord Heights Times

We’ve sort of seen this before. Two years ago in World Cup 94, the nation of Yakk played Nephara on the opening day of qualifying and held them to a 0-0 draw. Cassadagans rejoiced over that result, since we were also in the same qualifying group. In MD5, the Fillies would play Yakk at home, and had an ugly loss, dropping the game by a score of 2-0. At that time, Yakk was 2-1-1 and with two big games completed, they had to like where they stood to, at the very minimum, put them in striking range of qualifying. They’re record would improve to 4-1-1, before a 5-1 loss to Milchama seemed to take some life out of them. Following that, they could only draw lowly Brascocia, then lost to Koronavia and drew with Adab. At that point, they began to sink and were never really heard from again as a threat in the group.

Fast forward now, to World Cup 95. Once again, Yakk is off to a flying start thanks in part to the 1-0 victory over us. They’ve done this before, but now they got to put it all together, to play consistently from start to finish in qualifying, and to play the lesser ranked teams as well as they play the top ranked teams. As for Nephara, they survived only drawing Yakk on MD1 last Cup, and went on to win the group. So, as down as we might be right now, let us not go into panic mode just yet. As long as we learn from our mistakes, we’re still very much in this fight. Part of me wants to see Yakk put it together a little more now, to show that they are not only a team that can start well, but they can also finish strong. If they were to get wins over Saint Eleanor and Baggieland, I would be very appreciative of that. Yakk is ranked #97 right now, something that would certainly get better if they maintain the form that we saw last night. They’re an example of why I would love to see the World Cup go to 48 teams instead of 32. Not just because of us, but for teams like Yakk. Yes, 48 teams will qualify, but if 72 or so teams are in it until the last couple of matchdays with a chance of advancing, we will all benefit. One day 48 will happen. Maybe 48 will happen in World Cup 48 + 48. Maybe I just gave a potential bidder for that World Cup an idea.

This game was played in the mining town of Lhaskan. Logistically, they were not able to make it work at one of their biggest stadiums, but there is nothing wrong with taking the game to a different part of a nation and allowing the fanbase there to enjoy the game. I am not an expert on the specifics of Yakk, but traditionally people who live in such a blue-collar city like this can be some of the most passionate sports fans out there. For their team, they were treated to quite a memorable experience.

Alas, I am here to report on the Cassadagan national team, and I was not terribly impressed with what I saw last night from our end. Lexi McGregor was handled well by the defense, and Shannon Cunningham never seemed to get going. Reportedly, Carly Patterson played in this game, but if I didn’t tell you that, you probably would never have known because she didn’t do anything of note. I felt the defense played really well, and Rachel Becker in particular had a strong game. The timing wasn’t there. That can happen in the first game, but you have to make sure it only happens for that one game.

Our team will be better. They’re too good not to be. They’ll travel to West Kharakia next before the next chapter of Cassadaigua versus Starblaydia, which will be at home. The Purple Peril haven’t been themselves of late, and have sunk all the way down to #88 in the rankings. Regardless, they’re still Starblaydia, and still capable of qualifying for any World Cup that they attempt.

[Kelssek]

WORLD CUP QUALIFIERS
Kelssek blanked out in Kimi-suomi

A disjointed performance saw Kelssek labour to a scoreless draw against Kimi-suomi in Calen Reamsey’s first match as manager, as qualifying for World Cup 95 began on the road for the national team. It's something of a new era for Kelssek after manager François Saint-Louis retired following World Cup 94, while cornerstone players like Colm Ó Tuathail and Gabriel Lapierre also retired from international football.

While Kelssek enjoyed the bulk of possession, ending the match with the stats showing they had the ball for 64 per cent of the match, they couldn’t generate quality scoring chances. Completing passes at crucial moments proved an important stumbling block, as the 71st-ranked hosts held Kelssek at arms length for much of the match.

“Undoubtedly, there’s a lot to improve on, and we’re going to be working on that,” Reamsey said after the match. “This isn’t the finished product, it always takes time to get players used to a new approach, to new faces in the team, but qualifying for the finals is not decided by our first match.”

One player rumoured to be on the verge of also retiring from the national team was Loïc Maçon-Petrault, who instead has been named captain as he vowed to take one more tilt at the World Cup title. The 33-year old came on in the 72nd minute in an attempt to find a finishing touch, but the Jaglan Royals strikers barely had a chance and couldn’t improve Kelssek’s chances on the night.

Asked if he was frustrated by the match Maçon-Petrault said, “It’s not about what the emotions are, it’s about what we couldn’t do, we couldn’t solve the defence, so that was the thing we have to think about.”

On the positive side, Megan Woodwell marked her national team debut with a clean sheet as the Burnaby SC goalkeeper showed her ability to take her excellent domestic form to the international level. Kaiden Pépin also earned his first cap off the bench as Reamsey threw on all the attacking talent at his disposal in the late stages of the match.

Lionel an Deòir had the clearest chance to break the deadlock on the stroke of half time, as the Spartangrad forward wriggled free of his marker, but struck his shot off the crossbar trying to beat goalkeeper from ten yards.

Kelssek: Woodwell, Buené, Lambert, Camserhe, Usher, dí Völará (Lafrenière 77), Breault (de Landa 72), Hartpoach (Pépin 80), Heer, Maradrogba (Maçon-Petrault 72), an Deòir (Goh-Lemaire 77).

[Drawkland]

"A Tiny Wrinkle"

Ahead of matchday one for World Cup 95 Qualifiers, things were pretty decent for the Kick Corps roster. Spirits were riding low the previous year, as Drawkland's national team started hot in Independents Cup 19 and proceeded to crash. The Corps won their first three games of the group stage, then lost two straight to Juvencus and Valentine Z, both games by a 4-5 scoreline. That dropped Drawkland to 3rd in the group. Though they did make the playoffs as the 3rd place team with the most points, that set them up for a date against the hosting Poafmersia. The odds were stacked against that still-developing New Corps squad, and they fell 0-2 in the Round of 16.

With the offseason and plenty of domestic ball to distract the players, morale was much higher coming into the pre-qualifying camp. Ellzidan was returning as player-manager, and most of the roster remained the same, with a few new faces to keep things fresh. Things were looking up. Of course, coming in as the 42nd-ranked squad, it was no guarantee that Drawkland would be a contender for qualification. Even so, Drawkland always put on a good campaign in qualification, even in cycles they fall short of the prize. Last cycle was a heartbreaking penalty loss in the qualification playoff, but not dropping points against inferior opponents could've put the Corps in a better spot. There's no way to tiptoe around it: if you want to qualify, you have to win games.

This cycle would be the true test. It was no longer the first cycle for this "new era" of Kick Corps soccer. You can't blame rust, after all, the old Corps qualified in their very first cycle. One full cycle of experience should be enough to get a team over the hump ... right?

Thankfully, the Kick Corps was set up for success. They would get the first matchday of the campaign started on home soil, at Kanyo Pitch in Kayo. The big, beautiful bowl had been a fixture in the "qualifying tour" locations even before the Elite Eleven's era. Bongo Johnson wasn't an easy out, but they were an acceptably soft opponent to kick things off. Playing in familiar surroundings, in front of a booming home crowd, it was sure to be a rout. The Corps felt like they'd be unbeatable that weekend as the players flew in a couple days early for acclimation.

Then came the tiny wrinkle. Officials from the Drawkian International Sporting Council were perplexed as the Bongo Johnson national squad had yet to check for portal flight clearance that weekend. A few calls later, and it was full-blown panic mode. Drawkland wasn't set to play Bongo Johnson at home for the first matchday, they were meant to play Svalbardycity on the road in Pizzania. It was difficult to tell who was at fault. Based on the posted group and schedule information, DISC's written schedule should've been correct. Tournament officials from Chromatika seemed equally confused, as their group list and schedule were slightly different.

It didn't really matter what caused the gaffe, but it put the Kick Corps in a terrible spot. Now they had to get travel plans in place, reconfigure their tactics for the different opponent, and actually get to the match on time. The team now had to cram weeks of preparation and hours of travel into less than a day. To make matters worse, Svalbardycity was a complete unknown. Not only were they newcomers, they didn't even participate in the Baptism of Fire. There was zero film to speak of, no rosters available online or otherwise, and Drawkian fans didn't even know where the game would be played! The team which was filled with confidence and excitement had almost instantly given in to insecurity and indignation.

Thankfully Ellzidan and the other immortal veteran players on the team (Nicole Warren, Sarah Arrowsword, Cam Cross) were able to instill some calm into the team, assembling a game plan as the team flew to Svalbardycity on an express charter flight. The panic subsided, but still the team chemistry had been completely thrown off the rails.

It came as little surprise when the unknown nation of Svalbardycity managed to upset Drawkland in the opening tilt of the campaign, given these circumstances. The team was simply out of rhythm, out of sync. The defense was not prepared for the scrappy Svalbardycity attack. See, the Svalbardycitians were caught a little off guard that it was Drawkland coming to play them, rather than the lower-ranked Saterun, but their travel plans didn't have to change. They were going to be playing at home against a tough opponent regardless. They were ready to come out of the gates screaming, ready to generate a trap game for a team that was likely overlooking them. To their benefit, Drawkland had overlooked them to an entirely unprecedented degree.

Svalbardycity scored twice in the first half while the Kick Corps floundered. Cam Cross scored the first goal of the campaign for Drawkland in the 63rd minute, inciting hope that there could be a comeback. It simply wasn't going to be. The mortal members of the team were exhausted from the travel, the endurance was at an all-time low, and there were just so few opportunities to score. Svalbardycity did get a little lucky, as the xG for the match was about 1.4-1.1 in their favor. Still, the performance was inexcusable from Drawkland. The worst part is that there's no reparations for this mess. After all, if you want to qualify, you have to win games. No amount of excuses will change that.

So now the Kick Corps are left to pick up the pieces. At least they have an adequate amount of time to prepare for their coming opponents, an away match against Newlandiq, and finally the home opener against Bongo Johnson that was originally expected (just a few weeks later than planned)! This is a group that Drawkland could absolutely qualify from if they put together a solid campaign, perhaps even directly if the Corps manages to outplay Yuezhou. This is a much rockier start than anticipated, but it's just one game. Hopefully a little regression to the mean is due over the next thirteen matches.
group 11 original posting: Cheetahs and Reptiles Coalison (108) Sendhang (47) Svalbardycity (UR) Drawkland (42) Bongo Johnson (201) Saterun (84) Yuezhou (22) Newlandiq (258)

---

These are the venues for Drawkland's World Cup 95 Qualifying home games.

In the second cycle of the "New Corps," DISC has decided to bring back the qualifying venue tour so that all of Drawkland has a convenient option to watch this new set of stars. Last cycle, every game was held at the de facto national stadium for the Kick Corps, Drawk City Stadium. Or at least, it was the national stadium, before the Elite Eleven came in and tried to make Spartan Veteran Stadium a thing. Now things are back to "normal." Venues were selected roughly based on geography, and the profile of the matchup. Higher profile matchups are more likely to get larger venues in more important cities.

WC95 Qualifying Home Schedule
Matchday, Opponent, Stadium Name, Capacity, City
Kick Corps record at stadium (plus a nickname if one exists)
Fun fact about venue

MD3 vs Bongo Johnson: Kanyo Pitch (164,000), Kayo
Kick Corps record at the Crown Ring: 5-2-2
This is the home venue for the Kayo Queens, the team Nicole Warren plays for in the DLK.

MD5 vs Cheetahs and Reptiles Coalison: "Home of Kickerball" Gelia Field (111,000), Gelia
Kick Corps record at the "Home of Kickerball": 2-0-0
The Gelia Nets are Drawkland's oldest soccer franchise, so old they were still calling it "kickerball."
This bowl stadium has been refurbished dozens of times, but the core design and site have never changed.

MD7 vs Saterun: Castle Stadium (149,500), Raikennax
Kick Corps record at the Charge's Fortress: 10-1-1
The name refers to the stony brick exterior that evokes the style of a medieval fort, a callback to Raikennax's history.

MD8 vs Svalbardycity: Spartan Veteran Stadium (107,500), Sadeg
Kick Corps record at the Vet: 35-10-12
This was the de facto home stadium for the Kick Corps under the now-passed Elite Eleven era.
It's not normally used for soccer, but it's been synonymous with Kick Corps for nearly two decades now, hence its continued inclusion.

MD9 vs Newlandiq: Max Hallor Pitch (93,600), Cove Port
The Kick Corps has never played in Cove Port before.
A circular stadium with a square-shaped section of retractable roof. It can get chilly up there, so the climate control is necessary.

MD11 vs Yuezhou: National Pitch (149,000), Metropolon
Kick Corps record in NatPitch: 4-2-1
National Pitch is located near the central cluster of downtown Metropolon. All Metropolon's major stadiums are equidistant from the exact center of the city.

MD13 vs Sendhang: Drawk City Stadium (175,000), Drawk City
Kick Corps record at the de facto national soccer stadium: 42-16-6
All WC94 home qualifying matches were held here. Drawkland went 6-2-2 in those matches ... not exact a warm return!

If you want more details about any of these venues, let me know and I'll be glad to provide them.

[Patriotlandia]

Get ready for the Day of the Republic!

The Blue Wings flying their P-7 Kestrel on the Day of the Republic

The stage is set for the nation's first home game of the qualifiers as the blue shirts host Pemecutan at Navy Memorial Stadium. Whether it is by chance or by design the first match also takes on Patriotlandia's national holiday, the Day of the Republic. With a host of activities like parades, air shows and music they day is sure to keep everyone interested. However, some events, road closure and limited shop and restaurant hours could impact your experience as you make your way to the stadium.

The surroundings around Navy Memorial Stadium and the old fort will be closed to vehicular traffic for most of the day to allow for the National Parade to make it's way through to the downtown. Meticulously decorated floats will meander their way into the city and show off the nation's arts and culture. The parade should pass by the stadium around three hours before the gates open and circulation will gradually resume to aid accessibility.

The Celebration Stage at Parc Barthélémy-Groulx in downtown Port-la-Ville will host live music, comedy and plays throughout the day should you find yourself passing through the area. Big crowds are expected for the popular event so it is wise to arrive early to find the best spot to follow the action on stage.

If food is more your speed, the nationally acclaimed Le Chevalet will host a Day of the Republic tasting party where guest can sample gourmet version of regional foods from around the provinces.

Finally, the big match itself will bring the festivities to a close as our compatriots will try to qualify for the World Cup for the first time. A fly-by from the Blue Wings is expected just before kick-off. For the uninitiated, the flight demonstration group will fly on board of the nationally made Aviationale P-7 jet trainers over the stadium before moving over Bonport Bay and continuing with their aerobatic show. The boardwalk along Boulevard Jean-Marie-Patriot is an outstanding place to watch the air show as it overlooks the beach with unobstructed views towards the horizon.

We hope that you do enjoy yourself on our day of celebration.

[The Kytler Peninsulae]

The opening challenge for the Kytlerians on their return to World Cup qualification was simple. Try not to be completely embarrassed.

Huayramarca were not only the top seeds in the group, not only playing at home - albeit at the relatively unformidable Estadio Municipal de Pando, with its modest 18,000 capacity and a local crowd generally seen as on the subdued side - but they were the country that knocked out the Kytlerians comfortably enough in the Di Bradini Cup quarter-finals. And none of those Huayramarcans were deemed good enough to make the senior starting XI. Furthermore, the Huayramarcan fulbo total style is one of unrelenting aggression and a constant search for goals, and they are usually able to control games even against more seasoned opposition than a Kytlerian side who only got forged together in to this final form for one pre-qualifying friendly in Quebec.

Trying to control the flow of the game - as manager Andrew Patterson always wants to do - is almost an act of futility for a lower-tier side in Huayramarca. The best such a side can usually do is turn their aggression against them, and after six minutes that is exactly what they did. After Teun Donk headed away a Gabriel Sayritupac cross, so many home players were in the Kytlerian half that there was a huge opening for Conan Prunty to gallop into on the left. When right-back Paolo Manco's recovery speed saw him catch up, Prunty simply whipped in an early cross for Danny Markusson, and the teenage striker outjumped Santiago Chumacero to give the visitors a shock lead.

This, in retrospect, may have been an error. Because now the Kytlerians could actually be seen as a threat, the hosts turned up the intensity and turned on the style. Abraham Mendoza - noted for his intelligence and discipline both on and off the field - was pivotal to the former, and set up the equaliser on 13 minutes with a dangerous low cross that could be turned in by any touch. That touch came from the unfortunate George McIntyre, a trusted veteran in the modest Kytlerian NSL who would be made to look helpless more than once in this match. Four minutes after the own goal, Sayritupac literally sent McIntyre tumbling as he flicked the ball around him to create an angle to curl past Kuno Zeelen and give the Huayramarcans a lead they never once looked like relinquishing. There was the style.

The third goal, on 28 minutes, was a true statement of dominance, as there were 34 passes between Juan Mamani's goal kick and an eventual tap-in from Mendoza as he cut in unnoticed at the far post to put the finishing touch on Sayritupac's cross. The Kytlerians seemed genuinely afraid to tackle the home side, in part because by the time they would even think to the ball had probably been passed to another player; 15 of those 34 passes were of the one-touch variety, and it felt like more. It was that goal which Patterson pointed to in his post-match interview as being "the moment we knew just what their level really felt like, and how far off that level we are." This is a sport that's known for being one where experience matters (unless you're Baker Park, apparently); this team take it to extremes, with many of these players having around 300 international caps.

There would be no further turning of the knife in the first half - although it took two fine Zeelen saves to deny Bryan Tello from doing so - but a fourth goal duly came three minutes after the restart. Mendoza drifted inside unnoticed as Carlos Vilca charged forward on the left, and as the Kytlerians prepared for a cross to the far post, nobody picked up the little ingeniero making a late run into the box at the near post. The resultant pass and finish were both simple, and this match was becoming notable on the Huayramarcan side for Mendoza going from provider to scorer. Whether the Industrial Engineering graduate makes his own trophy cabinet is unclear, but he could put the match ball for this one in it after completing his hat-trick on the hour with a penalty placed perfectly in the bottom right; it was won by Sayritupac, who spun past Donk and was tripped by a disoriented McIntyre (yup, him again).

Both sides started using their substitutes after that fifth goal, and it was a Kytlerian substitute who had the final word in added time, Ellis Oldham's low shot taking a deflection on its way past Juan Mamani. By then, the match was long since out of hand, and the three-goal winning margin may have actually flattered the team on the wrong end of it. This was a statement of intent against a side who had been seen as a potential honest-to-goodness banana skin, a threat that briefly manifested itself until it was mercilessly neutered. One day, it is anticipated, the Kytlerians will be able to live with teams like this; today was not that day.

[Hapilopper]

(OOC Note: This is part of a continuing series called "Nathan Ellis's Quest," a long-term storyline dedicated to one man's crusade to bring Hapilopper to the top of the footballing landscape. You can read the complete series here, which will be updated as the competitions unfold.)

18: What a start
“Five Five”
Nathan Ellis hoped that his boys would be competitive against one of the great footballing sides in the multiverse, Baker Park. He had hoped that at the end of the match, Ellis Football would have gotten within a goal of the mighty squad from Baker Park, the top-ranked team in the group and one of the top teams in the multiverse. Winning seemed like an impossibility. Tying seemed like a feat. But when Nathan watched his boys struggle through the tunnel and into the locker room after the match, he couldn’t help but give off a huge smile. What he had seen, he couldn’t help but be proud of what his boys had done.

He walked into the locker room, closed the door and looked out at his boys – all of them looked like they had been through hell. Stan McLamb was absent of any of his “I am better than you and you know it” swagger, and was instead full of exhaustion. His whole body looked caked in mud. There was a cut above his right eye. Other players looked like they had stared death right in the eyes and learned what mortality was really all about. Rod Cutt had to be helped into the locker room, having sacrificed every last little bit of his soul to try to fight off the mighty squad from Baker Park. Aaron Blystad was staring straight ahead, beyond anyone and everyone, mentally recalling the hell he had just gone through.

What he and his teammates had gone through – that wasn’t a regular football match. That was war. That was Nathan’s boys fighting like their lives depended on it against one of international football’s greatest sides. They didn’t know it, but back home in Hapilopper, their fans – their fellow countrymen – were reveling at what had been the single best match of the first match day of the World Cup 95 qualifiers. It may have gone down in history as one of the greatest international football matches in history.

The scoreline showed there was no winner – Hapilopper and Baker Park playing to a 5-5 draw.

5-5. A scoreline that almost seemed impossible in the world of football.

Back home, fans were replaying the match on their television sets, recalling some of the incredible moments – how Baker Park jumped out to a quick 2-0 lead in the first ten minutes, catching Hapilopper unawares, before the Hapiloppian squad bounced back on the strength of two Stan McLamb goals in the 18th and 22nd. How the goals kept coming – six in total in the second half – three by Baker Park, three by Ellis Football – a screamer from Rick Bamford in the 49th, a third from McLamb in the 59th and Mike Camp’s header in the 81st, in traffic. But no one would ever forget how Rod Cutt sacrificed his body, so it seemed, to stop a possible sixth Baker Park goal from going in.

It was the 85th minute, and the game was tied. Rod felt like he had missed his assignment, and felt like he was going to pay dearly for it. He was probably going to cost himself the match this way. So when he saw the screamer heading his way, he ran like hell to deflect it with his body, consequences be damned. He fired it off halfway across the pitch, but his momentum failed to stop him from slamming full-force into the net, briefly knocking him unconscious.

Nathan had all that in mind as he tried to think of the words to describe – properly describe – his emotions after the match. He had a hard time explaining it to HTN reporters post-match, his emotions getting carried away with him. To him, this match was the embodiment of everything he loved about football, and everything he tried to engrain in his players. And seeing that kind of play made him realize that everything he had done was worth it.

“Guys…” Nathan started, choked with emotion. “That was the best game of football I have ever seen in my life. So we didn’t win. Who gives a shit? When y’all went through that tunnel onto the pitch, my hope was you would make a good showing for yourself. That if we did lose to Baker Park, we lost with class, and we lost by a goal. I look at each and every one of you and I see guys that went for it. Guys that fought and played the right way. You guys fought for every inch, every ball, and god damn it, I couldn’t be any more proud of you.”

Nathan looked over at Rod, struggling to sit up, still reeling from the hard face-first shot he took to the goalpost.

“Cutt, what you did, you sacrificed yourself for the good of the team. You sacrificed yourself to ensure the tie,” Nathan said. “Don’t ever think we’ll forget that. You gave it your absolute god damn all for this – and that embodies the spirit of Ellis Football. Fight to the death. Never accept defeat. And the same goes for all of you. I see a bunch of bruised men but I see men that fought like men. Men that refused to lay down until the final whistle. I picked you – all of you – because I knew you had the spirit. I sensed you had the spirit – the right kind of spirit – to make it in this game. And today, you proved it to me, and you showed the world.

“Tonight, the world knows what we can do,” Nathan said. “The world knows what we’re capable of. The world will know just how god damn dangerous we can be. Show them – make them see it. Five five. 223 vs 14. We took the 14 to a five five draw. God damn it, you guys. You can do anything. You’re capable of anything.”

“You apocalyptic dingleberry”
(OOC NOTE: This portion of the RP is dedicated to Morgan Wallen, the country singer whose very well-attended concerts this past week interfered with my ability to get internet hooked up in my apartment and, ergo, get an RP or two written up. Some of this is based on a true story. It’s a long story.)
But it came at a price. The physical, balls-to-the-wall style of football took its toll on the entire team. When the team returned to Garvinson the next day, it was clear who was struggling. Rod Cutt could hardly get off the plane without assistance, for example, and had to be driven back home. Stan McLamb dealt with vicious calf cramps on the trip home, and his screams of agony pierced through the entire plane.

Mentally and emotionally, the pain was evident. There was another match to prepare for, a match against the small Anaian nation Aleirave, but a nation that had a very strong national side. That match was a few days away, but it seemed like Ellis Football needed to just flat-out rest for a day.

And that’s just what they did. Rather than drive his boys back to practice, Nathan had his team take the day off – partly as a way to get them to recover, and partly as a way to thank them for playing so hard against Baker Park. And there was another part – he needed to get to Renshaw Cable to get some internet equipment replaced. The equipment had failed and failed on him, it had kept him from going to the Qualifying Group Draw and he was tired of it. It was to the point that he just wanted to get new equipment or find a new internet service provider. So he disconnected the equipment in the office, threw it in his truck and drove over to his Renshaw Cable store, near Garvinson City Arena on the other side of town.

The only problem? A famous country music singer was about to have a concert in the arena and the area was completely tied up. Nathan, having been in Baker Park the last few days, was completely unaware of the show, and was completely unaware that about 20,000 country music fans had converged – drunken state and all – on the arena. Traffic, to put it mildly, was a shitshow.

For way too long, it seemed like Nathan was unable to move his car. Neither were the music fans – some of whom were growing increasingly impatient of sitting in traffic. Right in front of Nathan, two girls – looking to be in their early twenties, jumped out of their car and ran towards the arena, ignoring the risk of getting run over. A nearby police officer, having way too much fun with a loudspeaker, chastised them.

“DO NOT GET OUT OF YOUR CAR ON THE ROAD,” the officer said. “YOU WILL GET RUN OVER. LADIES, THAT WAS NOT TOO SMART.”

Nathan, hearing this as loudly and clearly as ever, bust out laughing at this announcement – so much so that he forgot to hit the brakes to stop and plowed into the back of the car in front of him.

“THAT, TOO, WAS NOT TOO SMART,” the officer declared on his loudspeaker. “TO THE DUMMY IN THE RED PICKUP TRUCK, PLEASE STAY AT YOUR CAR. WE NEED TO HAVE A TALK WITH YOU. LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, PLEASE WATCH WHAT YOU’RE DOING.”

Nathan grimaced as he realized he had smashed the front of his old pickup up – because he had been laughing so hard at the lunacy going on around him. In the process, he had become Mr. Popularity among the country music fans – many of whom started heckling him for tying up traffic even more – not realizing, nor caring, that this was the head coach of Hapilopper’s national football team that had just taken Baker Park to the absolute limit. When one kid – college aged, it looked like – waltzed on past, he spotted the dark-haired man grimacing in embarrassment in his truck.

“NATHAN ELLIS?!” the kid shouted out – which got people’s attention. “YOU APOCALPYTIC DINGLEBERRY! USE YOUR BRAKES, YOU MORON!”

Normally, Nathan would have lunged from his car and beaten the holy high hell out of the kid. But at that point, Nathan Ellis, the scariest man in the history of Hapiloppian sport, was too embarrassed to even get out of his truck.

[StrayaRoos]

MD1 - Pale (Intl.)
StrayaRoos 4 (Kaiplo '12,'56 Vidya '61 (p) Kerr '87)
Britonisea 1 (Unknown '34)
HT: 1-1 Att: 65,819
StrayaRoos: Yesak, Chinwe, Poalian, Kuyta, Morgan, Joalai (Zümra 45), Keane, Vidya, Karmea, Kerr, C. Kaiplo
Britonisea: Unknown
POTM: C.Kaiplo (STR)

The Emus' World Cup 95 qualifying campaign started with a bang, with a 4-1 win over Britonisea in Pale. The game got off to a quick start, with Cruz Kaiplo scoring a header from a corner in the 12th minute, before the Britonisea side equalised in the 34th with a spectacular goal from just outside the box, then after halftime, the goals started to come in, starting with Kaiplo netting his second in the 56th minute, followed by Ella Vidya scoring a penalty in the 61st minute, making it 3-1. The last goal of the game came in the 87th minute, when Alana Kerr scored an easy header to make it four goals to one. The game was utterly dominated by the Roosians, with a possesion percentage of 71-29, as well as 13 shots to Britonisea's 6. Elsewhere in group 19, Fourth seed Valanora almost suffered a shock defeat by unranked Glazgo, but ended up 3-2 winners, Jeruselem beat Natanians and Nosts 1-0, and finally, our next opponents, Archalit drew with Bigpipstan nil-all. We're currently sitting at the top of Group 19 on Goal difference, but we full well expect that to change after the next window of matches.

-Window 1-
MD1: 4-1 vs Britonisea - Pale Intl. Stadium (70,000)
-Window 2-
MD2: @ Archalit - Archalit Olympic Stadium, Archalit
MD3: vs Valanora - Menai Metro Bowl (80,000)
-Window 3-
MD4: @ Natanians and Nosts
MD5: vs Glazgo - Nelson Road (33,000)
-Window 4-
MD6: @ Bigpipipstan
MD7: vs Jeruselem - Panem Stadium (62,000)
-Window 5-
MD8: @ Britonisea
MD9: vs Archalit - Acina Stadium (35,500)
-Window 6-
MD10: @ Valanora - Hatire Memorial Stadium, Capri
MD11: vs Natanians and Nosts - Circunses Stadium (72,000)
-Window 7-
MD12: @ Glazgo
MD13: vs Bigpipstan - Manildon Stadium (12,500)
-Window 8-
MD14: @ Jeruselem - Dazza Dallas Stadium, Jeruselem

[Beefsteak City]

"This new stadium shall be a fitting attraction to draw commerce and industry to our great city," decreed President, CEO for Life, and Mayor of Beefsteak City, Tom Ato. He pushed the tip of his golden shovel into the ground at the empty lot that had been the last city block in Beefsteak City with any residential zoning whatsoever (except for his own humble mansion). "It shall be a fitting tribute to our nation," he went on, "and shall be built entirely of white marble as an exact replica of the Roman Coliseum. Except that we're actually making it a lot bigger. And instead of seating people, it will be essentially a ring of elevated, concentric parking areas, kind of like a cross between a stadium and a drive-in movie theater, so that people will be able to drive in and watch matches in their car, with all the comfort of a modern-day, fossil-fuel-burning vehicle."

The crowd of Beefsteak City employees there to watch the ground-breaking ceremony (since there were no inhabitants) roared with rapturous applause, as they were instructed to do by their managers and supervisors.

"You may ask about the name. It's quite simple, really," said the mayor. Beefsteak city... beefsteak tomato... roma tomato... Roma... Rome... the Roman coliseum... you get the idea. And what a brilliant idea it is. After all, I came up with it."

The crowd cheered again.

"Of course, you may be aware that qualifying games for the ninety-fifth world cup have already begun," said Ato. "And unlike during the Baptism of Fire, we're expected to host our own games during this tournament. The Coliseum will serve for that when it is completed. But in the meantime, we will just have to make due. Our upcoming game against Aphrilia will be held on the factory floor of a meat processing plant. We've been assured that they have plenty of room for us to set up a couple goals and kick a ball around, although of course, the meatpacking line will continue throughout the match as we can't allow productivity to suffer simply for the sake of some sporting event. But we're sure nothing will go wrong. Our beefsteak producers are all highly trained in all the latest safety protocols, which I assume includes what to do if a world cup qualification match breaks out on the factory floor. We will truly be able to say to the Aphrilians, as Upton Sinclair once did, 'Welcome to the Jungle'." The iconic guitar riff rang out as the song began to play, and the crowd went wild.

The players of the Beefsteak City national soccer team watched from the top of a nearby skyscraper, owned by one of the city's law firms, in varying states of despair. The house that the mayor had destroyed hadn't really been the ideal living situation for all eleven of them at once--they'd only all squeezed in since they legally had to in order to be qualify to be members of the national team. But it had certainly been better than whatever the arrangement was going to be now. Most of the executives on the team were forced to sleep in their offices (although to be fair, they were all very extravagant offices, so it wasn't too bad). John Collier had been forced to bring a sleeping bag to the steel mill where he worked and was sleeping in the factory overnight, a situation which his manager loved, as she was now able to schedule him to work somewhere around 112 hours a week. Emily Pierce had gone back to living with her parents and only commuting into the city for her part-time shifts at the froyo shop, which technically meant she wasn't a Beefsteak City resident anymore, but hopefully no one would notice.

"I kind of liked that old house," groaned Emily. "It definitely didn't match the rest of the city but it was kind of nice to have something a little different."

"It was standing in the way of progress, girl," declared Blaine Maddox. "Industry and economy are what this city is all about, and that building contributed to neither." His tone softened as for a moment, he saw things from the other perspective. "Still, it was nice to have a bed to sleep in."

"I was so exhausted after that game against Ko-oren," said Nancy Dykes. "I could have fallen asleep anywhere."

"It was hard-fought, to be sure," agreed Curt Fargo. "That has to be the hardest match we've played yet."

"I'm just impressed I... we managed to hold them to just a single goal, said the goalkeeper, Jack Price. "I know Ko-oren is a really attacking side and they like to score as much as possible."

"You might need to fact-check that," said Curt.

"We did pretty well given that we were playing a man down the entire time," said Emily.

"Yeah, whatever happened to Michael?" asked John Collier. "I haven't seen him since our last game in the Baptism of Fire."

Airmail | Par Avion

Postage $1.95
W.A.Y.I.H.P.S.

Michael Maddox
Vice President of Finance
Maddox Holdings
Somewhere in the vicinity of the WAYIH National Football Team
Why Are You In Here

Blaine Maddox
CEO
Maddox Holdings
300 4th Street
Beefsteak City

Dear Mr. Maddox:

Hi Dad, how are you? I hope you are well. I am Not. Ever since the helicopter flew away and left me behind when Why Are You In Here beat us during the Baptism of Fire, I've beens stuck following their soccer team around, hoping that at some point I'll find my way back to Beefsteak City. Every day I ask myself, "Why am I in here?" Then everybody says "No, it's 'Why are you in here," and I'm like "That's what I said," and it's all just very confusing.

The locals seem to lead a very different lifestyle to what I'm used to in Beefsteak City. They don't seem as interested by important topics like finances, investment, or production quotas, but spend a lot of time "playing" and "having fun". I'll have to do some more research into what these concepts are, as it may help our team in world cup qualifying. (One of the Why Are You In Here players told me that they like to "play" soccer because it is "fun" and that's why they're participating in these competitions, so clearly there's something that doesn't translate to our culture.)

I'm trying to figure out how to get back home but not only have I not figured out Why Am I In Here, I still don't even know Where Am I In Here, so it is going to take a while. If you could send the company limo to come pick me up, it would be great.

Tell John I say hi.

Sincerely,

Michael Maddox

[Commonwealth of Baker Park]

One for the Ages--BP 5-5 Hapilopper
Scott McCrae
The Daily Mail Chief Soccer Writer

World Cup 95 Qualifying has a different feeling surrounding it than several of the more recent editions; this will be the shortest tournament since World Cup 83 which had just 12 fixtures during qualifying and Baker Park have returned to the group of top seeded nations, which has made them a bookmakers favorite to win Group 2.

Hapilopper were the opponent at the BBP Stadium on the first matchday, a known entity rather than a BOF survivor or a nation still getting their feet under them; Nathan Ellis's side were one of the stories of the most recent AOCAF in Al-Tamazgha as they competed without the recognition of their national governing body, as the national team in the motorsports crazed country had been disbanded a few cycles previously. Ellis took it upon himself to recruit a squad and pay for the team out of his own pocket and they rewarded him and the nation with a run to the knockout stages.
Now back under the National Association umbrella the Haps are a quali group foe for a second time with Baker Park winning both meetings in WCQ 87, then getting a pair of one-goal victories in AOCAF 60 & 68; the sides battled to a 2-2 draw most recently in Kajaia, a deserved result on balance which hinted that the sixth meeting would be a good early test for both teams.

Ninety minutes and ten goals later there was nothing settled as the sides commiserated with one another in the wake of a 5-5 draw that played out in front of the enthusiastic appreciation of the 72,000 in attendance who witnessed what was probably one of the finest matches ever played in the Commonwealth, a tribute to the spirit that Ellis has instilled since taking up the challenge on his own; the momentum swings were worthy of an elimination match rather than an opening group stage fixture.

Strangely enough, it was only the second 5-5 stalemate in BPNT history, the previous occasion being against Cascadia...in World Cup 87 Qualifying.

The match was the seventh time a combined score in a BP match totaled 10, with only three other matches in the mixed gender era having a higher combined total. One of those was the very next match following the away trip to Cascadia, a 9-2 win over Bonbokh u Pieche at Old College Park in Southend.

Manager Will Barnard once again hedged his bet on the lineup in an opener by mixing and matching positional combinations that saw several experienced veterans on the sub list rather than the starting XI, opening up the conversation as to how the pool would be used; there are 46 players listed, which could be split into two squads of 23 each but Barnard ruled out a split-squad type approach.

“We want to get through these first few matches with a chance to get everyone some minutes. But we're not going to do a full split like in the past. There's not enough time. Some people got held off (the lineup) because we want them for the next match. Cardenao are the second seeds, we want to have a strong showing against them at their place.”

Among the changes made over the course of the 2nd half was Renee McKenzie replacing Jon Schulman in defense with 25 minutes left in a move Barnard said had been planned in advance, not as a reflection of the performance.
“She's the only player that hasn't been in a qualifier, we wanted to get her on ahead of a possible start down the line. We were going to bring her in regardless of the score.”
Her ninth cap for the national team and first time playing at the BBP will probably remain a vivid memory, as it will for Barnard.

"They (Hapilopper) played like it was the World Cup Final, and I cannot blame them at all for that attitude. We needed to see that intensity from an opponent, a side we respect that has always--always played us tough. We've gone separate ways since we played last time (in the regionals) but we will always have massive respect for them."

Baker Park v Hapilopper
Callaway; Bruce, O'Connor, Schulman (McKenzie 66'); C Logan, Olivera (D'Alessandro 82'), Shanahan (C) (Garfield 73'), Boyle; Price (Riley 82'); Hardison, Engels (Diaz 73')
Goals:
Engels [2] 4', 53'
Price 10'
Boyle 63'
Diaz 77'

Lineup vs Cardenao
McCormack; Jones, Kucera, Walker; Park, Wiley, Vetter, Altman; Moorman; McDavid, Harris (C )
bench: Albertson, Morris, McKenzie, Obodime, Ryan, D'Alessandro, Morgan, Syzmanski, Coleman, Khan

Lineup vs City of Myrtle Beach
Albertson; Morris, Obodime, McKenzie; Martini, Ryan (C ), Morgan, S Logan; Riley: Coleman, Diaz
bench: Rossi, Jones, Walker, D'Alessandro, Wiley, Syzmanski, Khan, Moorman, Engels

[Recuecn]

"He's working that boy too hard."

Franky paced back and forth across the locker-room floor. The only other person in the room was Gerauld Firaut his friend, and mentor. Franky and Gerauld had always had a unique relationship. They played for rival teams, at opposite ends of the field--Franky was a striker, while Gerauld was a goalie--and Gerauld was half a decade older than Franky. However, they had a lot in common: both of them were excellent at what they did, and both of them cared deeply about l'ÉNRF (the Reçuecian national soccer team). Their similarities, not to mention a lot of time spent together on the nation squad, had forged a deep friendship between them.

"I don't know, Franky," mused Gerauld. He sat on the plain wooden bench, his legs akimbo, holding his duffel bag between his knees. Practice had finished, and he'd been about to head out when Franky had pulled him into a conversation. Gerauld glanced at the door, as if worried someone was listening behind it. "I know you don't always get along with Coach Bonheur, but that doesn't mean you can disagree with every decision he makes."

"Don't always get along!..." Franky huffed. He didn't finish the thought, but his face, cross and red, betrayed his opinion.

"I'm sure he knows what he's doing," said Gerauld. "He's manager for a reason."

Franky stopped his pacing to turn and glare at Gerauld. "Yeah, and that reason is that the best manager this country's ever seen went and retired."

"Tremblay deserves his retirement," said Gerauld. "Let him live in peace."

"Of course he deserves it," said Franky. "It doesn't mean I wouldn't rather have him as coach again."

"Says the one who gave him his gray hair," laughed Gerauld.

"Yeah, yeah, I was a crazy kid, everyone knows," Franky grumbled. "But I was just a kid... just like Laurent is just a kid. Bonheur needs to lighten up on him." Franky gestured toward the exit. "How long have they been out there? And practice has been over for what, now, half an hour? Forty-five minutes?"

Gerauld gave a side-eye, eyebrows raised. "I remember Tremblay being pretty tough on you when you started out, and you complained then too, but you admit now that it was good for you. Not to mention you were even younger than Laurent is now."

"Okay, but I could handle it!" Franky protested.

"And so can Laurent! Franky, you and I are both strong players--"

"We're the two best damn players in the country," said Franky.

"Okay now, let's not get carried away..."

"No. Gerauld, you're far too humble, and you know it. You know you're the best goalkeeper in the nation, and you know I'm our best striker." Gerauld gave another disapproving look. "It's not bragging," insisted Franky. "Why else would we be here, called up for l'équipe nationale?"

"Well anyway," said Gerauld, we may be talented players, but I think Lapix, in terms of just raw talent, is ahead of either of us. And I think Coach Bonheur sees that, and that's why he's pushing him so hard."

"Well, he definitely is really talented," admitted Franky.

"He's immensely talented," said Gerauld. "Every idea Coach Bonheur explains to him, he grasps immediately. His footwork is impeccable. He has a fresh, outsider's perspective, since he played in Tequilo, and it lets him see every hole in our strategy, not to mention our strong points. All he needs is some more training and experience, and he can truly be a world-class player."

Gerauld stood up and slung his bag over his shoulder. He pushed the locker-room door open and headed out into the tunnel. Franky followed him.

"I don't want to see you getting in Coach Bonheur's way, Franky," Gerauld said. "He's trying to do something really special with that boy."

"Yes, yes, ok!" Franky threw up his hands. "I get it!"

The two of them paused where the tunnel led out onto the pitch at le stade national. Coach Bonheur stood in the center like a statue, his arms folded. A series of cones littered the circle, and between them, Laurent jogged, high-stepping, keeping his knees in the air where he juggled a soccer ball as he went. It really was pretty impressive.

Gerauld laid a hand on Franky's shoulder. "You should practice with him more. I think the two of you could do some really special things together."

[Barunia]

Three goals against Starblaydia? Against the 5 time world champions? Three goals let in too to take the shine off, but holding the Starblaydis to a draw? The Suns will take that as a win.

Sure the purple tide may be but a shadow of their former selves, but the same can be said of Barunia. No ranking to defend. There is no Ruskin, no Marris, no Bainbridge.
No doubt the Starblaydis feel the same way: what would they give to have Di Bradini on the field? But time moves on, and those names are consigned to history (although Di Bradini lives on with the Holy Empire). The past is the past, and it is time to move on. A new history awaits for Barunia, a new start, a new team.

The coach is new and the entire team uncapped prior to this match, with one exception. The elephant in the room. Emmanuel Carter.
Carter, who burst on to the scene as a teenager. The wunderkind who took on the X-League and won. Who made it on to the national side before his eighteenth birthday. Who was playing in WCC matches before he was old enough to vote. And who threw it all away.


The pressure on Emmanuel Carter was immense. Expected to score more goals then veteran players, he was hailed as the next legend of Barunian football. A new Marris, they said, as if the legend had been reborn. But he was just a kid. A kid with dreams, who imagined himself winning every game, of driving the team to glory, of holding the world cup. The greatest pressure Emmanuel Carter was under came from within.
Eventually, something had to give. And Emmanuel walked away. Away from the national team, away from the X-League, away from football completely.

In hindsight, it was a good thing. During the intervening years since his breakdown, Carter matured. He grew up, became an adult, found out who he was. When the San Baptiste Sharks announced they had signed him, it shocked the X-League. Emmanuel Carter had returned to the fold. Wiser, smarter. Not necessarily a better footballer; it had been years since he'd played, but the raw talent was still there. Exactly the type of player Barunia needed in this time of change.
Two goals in the game, including the crucial leveller late in the game, shows he still has the skills the team needs. But crucially he is lacking the arrogance, the self-assuredness, the cockiness of his teenage years. Like the Barunia Suns themselves, he is Emmanuel Carter reborn. A Carter for a new age. A new era. A new hope.

[Aphrilia]

A (Horribly Written) History Lesson
What the other races are and why they are/were hated (Along with extra tidbits about the great insurgence).

OOC: AND BEFORE ASSUMPTIONS ARE MADE, THIS DOES NOT REPRESENT ANY ACTUAL VIEWS OF MINE. THIS IS PURELY TO SET THE IC TONE FOR CURRENT AND FUTURE CHARACTERS/PLOT.

For those who saw the Anchor's team manager Christian Vermont being questioned during a press conference and for those who may have heard one of the questions without understanding the current issue in Eluwa, you may be curious on why one of the reporters specifically asked, "The team you've decided to build is rather odd. First of all for clarifying, why in the world is a foxian on the team?" And due to it, there is a lot of curiosity that is roaming upon social media. What in the world is a foxian? Why the judgement of a player as something that, is accurately speculated, is based upon their physical differences? Why such the distaste as when the question was asked? Well, luckily for you, I'm here to not only give a history lesson but to also showcase the deeper roots of this issue and why it has stemmed for so long, as well as why it has not been solved any earlier. But first, in order to understand it all, we must head back to the beginning and that is to the year 132, when the Bhaga Empire first established itself.

Before being called the Bhaga Empire, the state we know now was known as the Bhaga Kingdom. Their original territory was what is now known as the western half of the Republic of Atlan. It took them only two centuries as they united the entire world under one flag by the year 301. And for a further century, the empire thrived within the peace it had created. One thing to note however is that the Bhaga Empire was formed through mainly diplomacy rather than warfare, and thus amalgamation set in which would be the main cause of the cultural differences seen through modern day Eluwa (These differences have contributed to the current state of society in Eluwa). And thus after a century passed, we reach the year 444 where the insurgence of religious and revolutionary leaders sparked the beginning of the end of the Bhaga Empire. The unfortunate coincidence is that most of these leaders were that of the other races compared to humans... But before we progress further, one should know these different races:

NOTE: (Coined term) / (Bhaga term)

Animal-Kin / Ohia
Foxians are only one of the many different sub-groups of ohia, or animal-kin as most commonly referred to (In reference to the similar features they have with the associated animal and not that of a derogatory note). It is speculated that the ohia originally came from the area that is now resided by the Dominion of Sangonomiya, hence their cultural association with the nation. Ohia are treated largely with distaste and disdain amongst a third of the nations (Novo Victoria and the Brunstadt Confederation), with the remaining two thirds of the six nations either being federally indifferent or well accepted into society and culture (Indifferent: the Kingdom of Aphrilia and the Republic of Atlan / Accepted: the Republic of Vie and the Dominion of Sangonomiya). But while the people of Atlan don't care much about the animal-kin, some in Aphrilia are still either wary or prejudiced against ohia, especially Foxians (Ohia of fox-related animals) and Insecti (Ohia of insect-related creatures).

Seaborne / Nwa (Miri)
The Nwa, also known as the seaborne are the most mysterious of the other races, as there is actually no recorded interaction with the nwa post 1662 where a human and a seaborn reportedly interacted for the very last time. Yet despite that, there is scientifically recorded and saved knowledge and information that we have of the nwa. They reportedly live down in the depths of the seas, with hardened scales adorning their body and fins to help them navigate the seas. Not only that, their legs were reportedly stretchy and wide to help with swimming in the water even further. Not much more other than that is known about them, and while the possibility of them being extinct is a plausible possibility, further research shows that the seaborne are definitely still alive... For unknown reasons just staying within the depths of the sea, as if they were waiting for something important.

Elf / Abuo (Ndi)
With the expansion into the multiverse and the discovery that elves exist within other realms, the memory of another race that is similar to them within the realm of Eluwa resurfaced. Often being found either on the southern coasts of Vie or within it's deep and luscious forests, bearing a lot of features of what an elf is supposed to look like. However, there is a bit of an oddity or two when it came to elves in the realm of Eluwa such as the much larger variety in hair and skin color along with the different sized ears which generally share a pointed edge. The full terminology for an elf during the time of the Bhaga Empire is an Abuo Ndi, but it has been shortened to Abuo in an agreement that was signed by all nations in 1988 whether these nations agreed or disagreed upon their or other's treatment of these other races. Abuo are treated positively within their home nation of Vie largely due to the Republic of Vie already being a sub-culturally diverse nation despite being under the same one umbrella term for their culture.

Thus, the great insurgence starts in 444 as the empire and leaders fight while several individuals took the opportunity to save what they can by forming their own nations. The insurgence ends by the year 737 and the world is completely shattered. And thus we lead into the reasons that these other races are often faced with hatred, disgust, and prejudice. The largest reason is just associating. While there was some tension between the several races during the time of the empire, conflicts were silenced through military force to ensure nothing larger happens. These insurgence leaders happened to be mostly of the other races, and a good part of the world associated these leaders with the forcefully resolved conflictions that happened, thinking that they were revolting due to what was assumed to be mistreatment despite humans also being victims of these militarily resolved conflicts. The empire played to no one's hand, after all. The second reason is their actions. While the religious leaders that joined the revolutionary leaders were that of humankind, it was the revolutionary ones whom declared that they would bring change... And their message was that, quote on quote "Fellow kin, join us to lead a charge of change where we are no longer below them!" A provocative message would of course spark a provocative message. It is largely agreed upon that their message of revolution was due to their own experiences despite the fact that the other races were never considered to be below humans by the Bhaga Empire. And while it may true that these other races did face judgement from humans, it was safe to say the humans were also judged for being "bland".

Then comes the final reason. The third reason is due to the great insurgence themselves. While both the revolutionary and religious leaders along with the empire committed many heinous acts throughout the several century long conflict, it is these acts of atrocities upon those who chose to side with the empire committed by the revolutionaries that sparked attention. Mostly due to the fact that they did not even spare their own kin who sided with the empire. This brutality was expected at one point, and many assumptions were made as to how this spiral down to insanity happened. The most common theory was that the entire situation as a whole messed up the heads of the revolutionaries. And after the insurgence ended, the world was shattered and the aftermath of the actions of few proceeded to sow themselves within the next generation and the next, with the only outlet for it being lashed upon the exact kind whom led to the final result. It took up until the late 1800s for a movement to establish themselves that they desire for this standard of mistreatment to change, for these other races to be treated equally not in the matter of a forced peace, but for the ohia, the abuo, the nwa... And the kemadu to live and co-exist amongst each other without tension among them and through love, understanding, and cooperation.

[Juvencus]

Stadio Gianluca IV, Pomena, after the game vs Delte

The stadium of 85 thousand was filled to the brim and despite the defeat, nobody had left. While the team would normally be on its way out by now, it wasn't. Madeiros had assembled every single player in the Curva Pomenienze where the most diehard fans were. He'd show all of them to the players before angirly exclaiming

"These people came here to watch you play for fuck's sake! Now you are all going to listen to them talk to you and explain to all of us their worries about la squadra, understood?"

As every player nodded, a staff member passed a microphone to Madeiros.

"I want to start this with a sincere apology to all of you that came here tonight expecting to see us play attractive attacking football which was not the case. I personally promise to all of you to start working so we avoid the embarrassment of last cycle and to extend an opportunity towards some of you to express your worries about our team. We are listening."

Madeiros would then slowly walk towards the Curva Pomenienze, still lively as ever as if the game had been won. He'd pass the microphone to one of the ultras, a man of short stature, with grey hair and a dad bod who was carrying the nation's flag on his left arm.

"Ciao la squadra, my name is Marco, I've been following you everywhere you go, every game since we entered the world cup qualifiers. Safe to say I've been through thick and thin for you all. A couple years ago, seeing how we qualified for our first world cup in over 11 years and how we won the Independents Cup, I got hope. It was quickly crushed last year and I am worried. My complaint is this:

You all are fucking talented! You get paid millions to play in here as well as some of the most prestigious leagues in the world. I keep track of all of you, I see how good you're doing representing your own teams but when it's time to represent the nation, you have been choking recently.

We have multiple-time Testículos, talented players getting honors elsewhere in the world, entering team of the season XI's and much more and you're telling me you can't play with even more passion for your own country? Today's performance was the 2nd defeat in a row in an official game, not only that but it was also the second game in a row where you haven't scored.

What happened to thinking there's no opposition too hard for us? No obstacle too big? Where were you today? Where have you been for the past year? What I saw on the pitch today is not even the same squadra I was tired of watching 7-8 years ago. I am worried that your passion has waned, that maybe you aren't as good as you've been portrayed to be. I am worried that we won't celebrate a qualification if we keep this tempo going. I need you all to wake up, for once!

Why is there so much inconsistency? We all know you're good, you know you're good, you're managed by one of the brightest minds of our generation. Get your shit together, we will have your back. But until then, expect us to criticise you more and more, we can't stand disappointment after disappointment immediately following some of our greatest succcesses, do you understand?"

A moment of silence followed, as if time had stopped and la squadra was looking intently at Marco. He was right, inconsistency had struck the team again and again and this was not a new thing. That's how it has always been in Juvencus. A short-term success was followed by bitterness, performances so heartbreaking you could hardly believe it was Juvencus anymore. It was obvious nobody wanted to see another 10-year drought emerge, especially not by a team that could easily be described as a "golden generation" by Juven standards.

The stadium would erupt in agreement cheers, Marco with tears in his eyes now, he wanted to finish this talk but would choke on himself. He was given a short bit to recollect himself. Madeiros would raise his hands as if to tell him to pick up the energy and that was enough.

"To add to my last point and give you time to think and improve. We can't experience the same pain we experienced just a few years ago, not from you, our most skilled team up to date. Do better, we have an entire qualifiers season ahead of us, I get it you're also busy with your clubs but the country is above all. Grazie."

Claps would echo through the stadium and even the team would give him a round of applause itself. They had a lot to think about, that is true. With Kharakia and Macbon ahead, the team will be put to the test and hopefully try to earn some points in its journey to the world cup.

[Banija]

Banijans roll in Esportiva as World Cup Qualifying is underway

ZANSOSI, BANIJAN ESPORTIVAN TERRITORIES OF NJAZA- After a massively underwhelming, last place finish at the new look Confederations Cup, the Banijans kicked off World Cup Qualifying still with high goals- the goal as always, which is qualifying directly to the World Cup Finals. Something, of course, Banija has done 14 of the last 15 cycles, sans World Cup 89. "We all know, thanks to World Cup 89, that nothing is promised, nothing is guaranteed in World Cup Qualifying." Pam Scott, the team's manager, told reporters. "The players know this- they have to earn their spot in the world's greatest tournament, and they must have 100% focus throughout these 14 games. This Qualifying campaign is shorter than most, ergo, we have to come in focused earlier. We've got an incredibly tough group, with a lot of history and talent, so we need to be all systems go."

Our first ever World Cup Qualifier we did not play in our home region- off to Esportiva to play in the Territories. And against Damukuni, where they are taking just a long bus ride(or short flight) across their northern border into Mugishaland, it was a fantastic time to kick off the World Cup title defense. "The crowd today- absolutely electric. The atmosphere, fantastic in every form." Said the team captain, Adin Wasawo. "You saw them bring out the energy here in the Territories- admittedy, this is the first time in my life that I've been hre. But oh man, what an environment, what a home field advantage they gave us."

You could tell that the Banijans were on top of things, because they were ready to fire on all cylinders from the word go. Just 45 seconds into the game, Wesoloski-Okafor had the first shot on goal for the hosts, although it ended up being shot straight at the goalkeeper. But, once again, it would be AWO(who else?) who would open the scoring against the Esportivans. The dual-national was given a brilliant through ball from Layvin Son-Saka in the 8th minute, one of those where they were able to split the center backs, and AWO was able to use his pace to get onto the ball. He did have it on his left foot, his weaker foot, but it was no problem- the best striker in the world was able to precisely shoot the ball into the far corner, beating the sprawking DKI goalkeeper. Just like that, 1-0 to the Banijans- with AWO saluting the crowd.

Beyond that, the team continued to roll, keeping serve at home like the rest of the group (all 4 home teams in Group 13 won to start Game 1). Wesoloski-Okafor kept his blistering pace of goals up, that really, he's had his entire career in a NT uniform, by scoring a second goal right at the half-hour mark- that one was via a header, on a cross from Lolong Bokate. Banija's dangerous winger combo each getting an assist to the best striker in international football? Check. And it would be Sergius Atieno that would really put this game away, buried, set, match, when he scored in the 42nd minute on a great cutback pass from Aquila Hongo. Up 3-0, going into halftime, at home? Nobody's going to blow that lead- and that includes Banija.

While the first half was much more of a barnstormer, with the Banijans really applying pressure and creating opportunities, the second half was much more dull- it was clear the Banijans were trying to enjoy the atmosphere, and were just going to choke the life out of this game. While DKI bent in a brilliant free kick in the 64th minute, we had one of our own centerbacks, Kutaaka Muteesa, head in a corner kick in the 82nd minute to give us our final scoreline- Banija 4, Damukuni 1. "A great result, you are always happy with a 4-1 home win to kick off World Cup Qualifying." Pam Scott told reporters. "Of course, we have not done anything yet. Everybody held serve in our group- when MD1 has all four home teams earning three points, you know that it is going to be a tight, ferocious group. On one hand, a job well done- on the other hand, our job is just starting. Onto the next match."

Next match it is. Banija will travel to 65th ranked Sharktail, A tough opponent, especially at their home field- they also opened up World Cup Qualifying with a 4-1 home win, with their win being against unranked Santa-Barbara. "I have not seen the film yet myself- obviously I had this game to prepare for." Pam Scott told reporters. "But from what my scouts told me, this is a team that looks like they will make a legitimate shout at going straight to the World Cup Finals. I was told they were creative, decisive, and efficient- all traits you want in a team that will successfully slog through the grind of World Cup Qualifying, and find a way to finish top of the group- or at least, top two to make the playoffs. I expect us to have all that we can handle over there. That kind of raucous environment, us getting their best shot... It will be a great test for us going forward. I'm looking forward to it."

With not much separation after Matchday 1(all 4 home teams winning), games like that will start to provide the first true modium of separation in Group 13.

[Tumbra]

Pyazhnaya 0–1 Tumbra

TMB (4-2-3-1): 1 - V Jones; 2 - A Renton (45 - H Kennedy, 84'), 4 - I Ashburn, 39 - M Toussaint (24 - Y Lawson, 84'), 19 - J Green; 6 - T Harrison (15 - M Finnemore, 75'), 16 - I Robertson, 23 - S Monaghan (44 - S Knight, 75'); 7 - V Wells (17 - R Haines, 68'), 21 - A Pearson; 22 - C Henshaw

TMB scorers: Audrey Pearson (24')

Player of the Match: Ian Robertson [TMB]

On the surface, the two diners at Conti's didn't look that out of place. A man wearing an admittedly-worn down suit, crumpled in some parts, dining together with a woman about ten years younger than he, wearing a purple dress with a plunging neckline. Typical Straton fare; it wasn't that unusual for a bureaucrat in his 40s to suddenly decide that, far away from wherever his family was, that he wanted to munch on his fresh grass.

Except this wasn't a bureaucrat, and the woman dining opposite him wasn't his side-flame, although she probably thought it would be better to extract the knowledge she wanted from him if she was. She sighed, twirling the strands of spaghetti in between her fork in boredom. Sitting opposite Bencoolen Globe journalist Jennifer Lee was the three-term Heathfield MP Edward Lavelle; that nobody recognised him was partly due to the fact that nobody recognised all 650 MPs, and more due to the fact that Lavelle couldn't have looked more like an identikit MP if he tried. Lee looked relaxed, casual even; Lavelle, meanwhile, looked rather more stressed.

"Everything you say will be off the record of course," she said, looking at him with a look that was halfway between alluring and concern. "How many times have we done this already? It's just information."

"This is different, Jen, you know it." Lavelle stared at the coagulating globules of oil at the bottom of his dish of lasagna, resolutely refusing to make eye contact with the reporter. "I mean, this is basically the party throwing out someone who's won three elections."

"And now they don't want him anymore. And I got the impression that you were one of those who were willing to go along with it."

"Well, I don't know what I said to give you that impression —"

"Did they offer you a Cabinet post?"

"No."

"I assume all the rewards have been divvied up at this point?"

Lavelle nodded.

"Last I heard, it was..." Jen took out a notebook from her handbag, and began reading. "...Newell as PM, Kingsley at Finance, Greenwood at Home, Hurst at Foreign Affairs, Morrison at Defence. Steph Wilson shoved into the DPM role with a special Northern brief to get her out of anywhere important." The names were speculative on her part, but they hit every big conservative name in the party; Lawrence Newell, the former Law and Justice minister, had tried to challenge the Prime Minister, Stephen Williams, once for the leadership in what looked like a hare-brained gambit; he'd been sacked almost immediately after, alongside all the names on the list bar Kingsley, and the conservatives had been mulling a rebellion ever since.

Lavelle nodded. Her info was right; he didn't seem to feel the need to deny her that small nugget, at least.

Jen put the notebook back into her bag.

"So you just don't like the Prime Minister, is that it?"

"Listen, Jen, he's lost us our coalition partners — our partners for a century, Jen, nobody can realistically say that's not a strike against his leadership. Plus, you know the murmurs about Max Young pairing up with the Nats — polling's got us neck and neck with them, and my seat —"

"So it's about the Nationals. And your seat." The Nationals, long-time coalition partners of the centre-right Liberals, had left their agreement a year or so prior over disagreements over succession to the Vice-Presidency, alongside other ideological disputes.

"He's not as right as the caucus would like him to be, either."

"I thought that's what the party knew it was getting itself into when they chose him as party leader. That he wasn't as 'nasty' as the Hayes, Osborne, Monteiro, or Lindner types," Jen said, listing off formerly unsuccessful Liberal party leaders off her fingers. "That he was a 'sane' centrist. To me he's been governing exactly as he says he is." The reporter shifted herself in her seat in a particular way, trying drawing attention to herself from the MP. If talking wasn't going to get her what she wanted, a bit of eye candy was going to do it. She never liked doing this — she didn't spend four years at university to dress up like some MP's side girl, with garish makeup and barely-covering clothes to boot — but she did understand that men were simple creatures. Men liked what she had to offer, after all.

"Well, that was until he sacked all the conservatives from his cabinet."

"Mmm."

Silence.

"Do go on," Jen prodded after about thirty seconds of silence.

"The plan is to gently shove him out of the window with a backbench rebellion. The Westerners are currently planning a private member's bill on one of two things. Immigration, welfare."

Ignoring the part where he mentioned gently shoving someone out of a window, Jen continued. "Farves? Mytanars?"

"Migrants in general."

"It will pass?"

"At least half the caucus has read it and thinks they'd vote for it."

"But it's about getting him spilled."

Edward nodded quietly. "Closed-door caucus meeting. Quick and efficient. We move to spill, then move to install Newell a week from then."

"And then?"

"We reconcile with the Nats — we're not giving them back everything immediately, but we will give them back some of their jobs — Rural Development, Environment and Energy, you know. Then we try to get Max Young to fuck off. Or join us."

"Interesting you say that, because it seems he's leading some kind of...coalition? Federalist Alliance, New Democrats, Conservatives, whatever's left of Reform, Christian Union..."

"We're already trying to scupper that."

"A former Liberal." Jen twirled her spaghetti again.

"Emphasis on former."

Jen didn't press on how the Liberals were planning to scupper negotiations for Max Young's right-wing coalition. "And he gets?"

"Whatever he wants, really."

"Stephanie Wilson for shortest-serving DPM in history?"

"None of the conservatives like her."

"What a surprise." Jen rolled her eyes.

"It's not because she's a woman or anything, everyone she's worked with says that she's got no moral backbone, nothing."

"I'm sure. And you get?"

"A PPS job, maybe. Listen, everything's still in its early phases, I don't think we're moving so soon — if we strike at the wrong time, he could come out strengthened —" Lavelle said unconvincingly.

"Seems like everything's already fairly crystalised, Ed...a coup for a PPS job? Really?"

"Well, I...I don't know. I'm still on the fence. I've been to the meetings of the caucus, and the way they talk about the PM..."

"Not comfortable with being Brutus in this scenario, then?"

Lavelle gulped. "Not entirely, no."

"How long?"

"They want to move quickly, but..."

"Before conference season?" Jen checked her watch. It was July; party conference season was typically in October. A new leader would see them able to start off strong; roll out some decidedly conservative initiatives as compared to centrist policy under the Prime Minister.

"Yeah. Get the bump in the polls, reverse our five-point deficit..."

"And win the next election."

"Listen, everything I tell you here cannot appear in the news..."

"It won't. Not until anything actually happens. I just want to know where the battle lines are. And it seems that they're fairly deep in the sand."

Lavelle sighed. "You free tonight?" He made eye contact with Jen for the first time in a while. "Drinks?"

"No thanks."

"Was worth a shot," he muttered.

"Don't worry, Ed, I'm sure your wife will be more than willing to prep a nightcap for you."

"We split recently, actually. Still in the early phases of it, lots of paperwork, but...it's over."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Jen said with the briefest hint of sympathy. "Worth toppling the PM over?"

"Maybe."

"That's what I suspected." Jen smiled, and called for the bill. "Thank you, Ed, you've been an absolute darling."

[TJUN-ia]

TJUN-ia 0-1 Zwangzug
Goal: Jordan McKinney (69')
Mood: Pain. Immediate Pain.

The Book was right in front of him...and as he stared at it, it stared right back. Every TJUN-ian student, no matter race or creed, had to go through "TJUN 101" during their education...and as it turned out, the 3rd lesson of Year 3 at North East Notts Primary School (NEN for short) would be when this long journey started as the mere presence of The Book of Jungles on their desks (Part 1 of 2, of course) was enough to startle even the most bullish of 7 year olds. The teacher for this subject, Miss Li, seemed to have done this song and dance so many times before as her lack of enthusiasm showed...but for Jason McGovern, that didn't matter. He was looking at THE BOOK, the book that defines TJUN history and defines the organisation that founded TJUN-ia all those years ago. And it scared him by sheer volume alone.

The first lesson would be all about the 1st and 2nd Chapters of the Book of Freiden, named after The Jaguar's trusty Chao friend, which detailed the formation of the 2nd Universe (where TJUN is from) and the story of Cross Day, a national holiday over in TJUN-ia in place of April Fool's Day. Starting with the famed intro of "This is the Gospel (allegedly) of The Jaguar and his creation of his United Nations, as told by himself and witnesses to his journey across the Region of the Fictional World. (Fri 1:1)", The Book details the many different interpretations of the creation of Universe 2 - from the Big Bang, to Adam and Eve to the cycle of Kalpas and Pralayas and so on and so forth...before concluding that each interpretation is correct, as "there can be no true answer to what we were not made to know. (Fri 1:16)"

Then Chapter 2 focuses on The Jaguar himself, "just a normal man in a normal city (Fri 2:2)" and the lightning bolt that struck his laptop that caused His Symbol to appear...eventually causing a Portal to open in his living room. The rest is stuff that they all knew, from children's stories about the Leader himself, that "He thrust his hand into the Portal and something beyond would grab on. Frightened, he pulled back only to pull out a Chao...a creature of blue and yellow unfamiliar to the Universe he inhabited. (Fri. 2:8-9)" This is what every TJUN-ian celebrates on Cross Day, the Crossing of Frieden to U2 which, in turn, would lead to the whole world Crossing into a new era...one in which fiction became more real forevermore.

The bell rang...class was over. That was the basics of TJUN-ian lore, Cross Day and all that...but Jason still had a long way to go...and a hell of a lot more notes to take.

---

SCHEDULE (Group 4)
Revert to this post for stadium information.
MD1: vs Zwangzug (3) - National Stadium, TJUN-ia City L 0-1 (6th)
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MD2: vs Eraman (58) - Beregozera Stadium, Szensky
MD3: @Ragdollia (UR) - The Ragdollia Super Dome, ????
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MD4: vs Brannfjord (250) - Ke Kahua Pāʻani o Pua Aloalo, Kepu Manu
MD5: @Eastfield Lodge (80)
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MD6: vs Boring Paradise (147) - Tiankong Stadium, Tiankong
MD7: @Josifovo (128) - Ljubomir Hrebeljanović Stadium, Bijeljica
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MD8: @Zwangzug (3) - Janaki Gardens, Guariday
MD9: @Eraman (58) - Arupura Stadium, Arupura
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MD10: vs Ragdollia (UR) - Estádio do Pacífico, Rio Pacífico
MD11: @Brannfjord (250) - Blekebakken Stadion, Grimnes
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MD12: vs Eastfield Lodge (80) - Stade de la Victoire, Roi Ville
MD13: @Boring Paradise (147)
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MD14: vs Josifovo (128) - Estadio Universidad Carlandas, Carlandas

[Pemecutan]

Part 1

---

---

Canggu, a medium-size resort town located in the southeast of Surya Island, the second largest island in Pemecutan. The town is part of Kerobokan Province, one of the 9 provinces in State of Kanginan. It's becoming the center of attention recently as some foreign leaders gather in the town for a multilateral meeting held by Pemecutan government. Representatives from 3 nations and the two Pemecutanian constituent states are present. The surprising one is the presence of Rarungani representative lead by their Prime Minister, Gusti Ngurah Agung Kelakan. The meeting is centered in Canggu Convention Center.

"Thank you everyone for your attendance. And welcome to our lovely town, Canggu," greet Patih Madya Ngurah Agung Kusumajaya.
"Honestly, we are quite surprised with your personal invitation a few weeks prior," comment Gili Anakan Prime Minister, Ahmad Subrata.
The other nod in unison.
"I understand that this is quite sudden. Especially after the previous failure meeting held in Toluiwa," add Kusumajaya.
"Why do we need to hold this meeting actually?" ask Patih Madya Surya Wiradarma of Kanginan.
"I'm sorry that I'm not inform you earlier, Mr. Wiradarma. Mr. Darma Puja too. The domestic situation hinders my plan to visit you too," apologize Kusumajaya to representatives of Kanginan and Petang Islands.
"Care to explain to us? If everyone not objected," ask Ketut Darma Puja, Patih Madya of Petang Islands.
Everyone in the room murmuring their willingness to hear the reason again. Kusumajay clear his throat before start to talk.

"A few weeks prior, I've made several visitations to neighboring countries within Mandaran Council members. I do realize that everything is put fast forward when Toluiwan President ask for our commitment to the region. And I believe most of us are not ready yet. Even I did think the same," Kusumajaya pause for a few seconds. He looks around and try to grasp everyone's emotion from their facial expression. And they are all quite content. "Came back home to Pemecutan and consulting with Patih Agung, my co-Prime Minister. I realize that I've made a mistake. And I believe Mr. Qadari have a long vision for our region far into the future. While we are still stuck in the present."

"So, you intended to continue the unification process?" cut Wiradarma.
Kusumajaya nod. "I think we are all need to make some compromise for everything. Especially for our future," add Kusumajaya.
"But why Mr. Qadari and Mr. Hambali are not attending?" ask Kelakan.
"I've reached them both in the way that I visited all of you. But things were not workout with Mr. Hambali. While Mr. Qadari said that he would be coming in a few days to join us. Our conversations today are also watched by Mr. Qadari so he will know about the progress of our meeting before he arrives here," explain Kusumajaya.
"I'm glad Mr. Qadari will come," murmur Kelakan.
The unification of the region is the plan of both Qadari and Kelakan. So, it would be better if both of them present. Think Kusumajaya.

"Then what kind of compromise do we need to do?" ask Darma Puja.
"I think we did the first step," cut Basubala Anggarjahia, Prime Minister of Soracana Islands who has been silent from the beginning of the meeting.
"That's true," agreed Kusumajaya.
"Yes, it is part of the plan. The first compromise is the single currency that we try to implement throughout Mandaran. But not all agree to switch their currency. Especially Pemecutan," say Kelakan blatantly.
Kusumajaya smirk. "You do understand why I become cautious with the single currency system, right?" remind Kusumajaya.
"Yes, you have addressed your concern during our personal meeting. And I understand it fully. We won't want any of our economy collapse because of the switch," comment Kelakan.
"Do it gradually then," suggested Wiradarma.
"That's what I said to Mr. Qadari and also to Mr. Kelakan. Pemecutan will have both currencies circulated in our country as we switch to Mandar. But it's not only about that. It's also about the value of Mandar against international currency. We have to maintain the exchange rate so it will be benefited to all of us," explain Kusumajaya.
"I think our economy minister will understand more about this," say Subrata followed by the nods from the others.
"That's why we have the economic forum besides the main meeting," reveal Kusumajaya.
"Alright. So, what do we aim from this meeting?" ask Wiradarma.
"Just like Mr. Qadari plan from the previous meeting. A commitment from us all for the smooth unification process," say Kusumajaya.
"Understood. Where do we start?" ask Anggarjahia followed the nods from the other although Wiradarma is still pretty content with the situation. But Kusumajaya still give a wide smile. With the back up from the others, he believes Wiradarma's mind will be change. Hopefully.

On the other side of the region, Abdul Qadari smiles as he hears the conversation at the start of the meeting. He understands that his approached was reckless. In his heart, he praises the way Kusumajaya approaches every one of them personally. "Even though he is younger than me, but he has a better political skill than I do," say Qadari to himself. He also realizes that Kusumajaya has become softer about the unification issue. He understood from their previous conversations, Kusumajaya was against the unification. But from his private visit a few weeks ago and this meeting, he believes Kusumajaya has change. In the end of their first meeting session, Qadari smile widely that his and Mr. Kelakan vision of a greater Mandaran state can be come true.

---

---

Pemecutan 4 - 3 Hafamarimyht
@ Manguwi Stadium, Pemecutan

Goal:
Wisnu Permana (17')
Dewa Putu Mahardika (33', 62')
Satya Permadi (81')

MD 2
Patriotlandia v Pemecutan
@ Navy Memorial Stadium, Port-la-Ville, Patriotlandia

MD 3
Pemecutan v Elmyia
@ Tegeh Kori National Stadium, Pemecutan

Squad
Starters
GK : Oka Yudhi Winanda
LB : Dwi Putra Kusuma
CB : Satya Putra Laksamana (C)
CB : Ngurah Agung Rai Putra
RB : Alvino Bastian
LM : Agus Kusumawijaya
CM : Satya Permadi
RM : Satria Wiradarma
ST : Wisnu Permana
ST : Gede Putra Arimbawa
AT : Dewa Putu Mahardika
Reserved
GK : Yohan Ekaputra
GK : Dewa Putu Adi Adnyana
LB : Ngakan Kompyang Widyantara
CB : Sang Putu Chandra Artha
CB : Wayan Adi Darmantara
RB : Jaya Lukmana
LM : Putu Pande Suthawijaya
CM : Triono Atmaji
RM : Kadek Dwi Partha
ST : Ketut Agus Astapa
ST : Asta Yudi Permana
AT : Putu Rama Ananta Putra

Roles
Captain : Satya Putra Laksamana
Vice Captain : Wisnu Permana
Corner, left : Dwi Putra Kusuma
Corner, right : Alvino Bastian
Freekick : Satya Permadi, Wisnu Permana
Penalty : Gede Putra Arimbawa, Dewa Putu Mahardika

[Yue Zhou]

previously in haiguaidian

nangang

Ever since things had all come together - the shock election result, the second shock election result, the coalition formation - to result in Liberation Army running the United Republics, that small voice in Zhuang Weilun's head had been getting louder and louder. And after what President Liang Ziyou had just told him, it was screaming at him for having enabled Liang's rise to power in the first place. Around a decade ago, Zhuang had seen an opportunity to be one of the only voices in the niche right-wing party who cared about foreign policy. Whether Liberation Army's nationalism would succeed or fail was up to Liang, the ideologue, but Zhuang, the professor, could at least give them a sane policy abroad if they did happen to win. Now, though, he was starting to think that he'd enabled Liang more than he'd thought.

"I mean...we have a lot of political capital as a result of this, right? National Union let a terrorist attack happen on Yue soil for their own political aims. Are we sure we want to burn all of it on, uh, jailing the entire party leadership? I mean, some of these guys weren't even in the room when it happened."

Liang Ziyou chuckled in response. "You shouldn't see everything in terms of receiving and spending capital, Zhuang. This is a huge opportunity! National Union will be decimated for now no matter what we do, sure. But if we can stop their agenda from ever coming back - if we can destroy the pro-CRC, anti-people faction from returning in any form - we can bring home a new golden era of Yue politics. As far as I'm concerned, everyone in party leadership knew what was going on, and if not, they weren't trying hard enough. We need to respect the law here, and send a message that breaking the law will be punished no matter who you were."

"Sure, but you want to imprison the entirety of the previous cabinet, the Yue intelligence director and sixteen other people from his office, and twenty-nine other Assemblymembers. That's the kind of overreaction that loses elections."

"Lose to who? National Union are fucked for eighteen generations, Forward Path's best days are far behind them, and the left is probably going to splinter again. It's just us, Zhuang. We can do whatever we want."

"And if the courts don't agree with this plan?"

Liang smiled. "We can do whatever we want."

It was on the drive home from the cabinet meeting that he resolved to contact Tuskoles Yargaras. There were already a few party names bouncing around in his head...

MD1: Saterun 0 - 1 Yuezhou
Starting Lineup: Zhao; Huang, Deng, Hu (Shangyuan 74), Dong; Zhaxi, Pan (Hong 58); Jiang (Lu 58), Mingsdottír Zhang, Luo (Fu 81); Ji (Liang 74)
Goals: Ji 52'

[Ochre Islands]

'Willow...' Ruby Singsmore brought her radio away from her ear and turned to the Ochre Prime Minister, Willow of the Finches, who was looking on quizzically. 'What's happened?' 'Emperor Boston's showed up and the Mertagnians have launched an attack on the Bostopian mainland – sent bombers over the Bekk. They've hit Tarnlight Bay.'

As ends of the beginnings go, it was one – well, two pieces of news - that came as a shock to the Ochre Prime Minister and those around her. It turned out that as the Ochres and their allies were managing to push the Bostopians back eastwards and liberate more of their home, the Ochre Gods had seen fit to start pulling down the natural defences they had created for their islands, which had allowed Mertagne a narrow window in which to get a message back to Dannin, telling the leadership there of what was happening. Dannin had made a bold choice not long after, deciding to strike the much stronger Bostopia before the Bostopians or their Ochre allies knew what was happening. Mertagne had only formally declaring war within the short minutes before the Mertagnian planes hit their targets, clearly learning that the best way to hit the Bostopians was with the element of surprise firmly on-side.

For the Ochre troops though, the push eastward across their islands whilst the Bostopians retreated into the ever diminishing supernatural Ochre defences, was a push that laid bare the grim truths of war. Devastated towns and cities, brutal repressions against Ochre Islanders deemed to have collaborated, and even those who had shown even a spark of tinge for leaving the 'old country' in the first place were thoroughly 'questioned' by the battle-hardened Ochre Caribineer force, who had had to do most of the fighting that Ochre Islanders themselves had done.

Rebuilding the country was going to be a monumental task on a number of fronts. Whilst devastated homes and towns could be rebuilt, with fitting monuments, families left with missing members couldn't be put back together, no matter how many monuments there were, and neither could human flesh which had been torn from where the Gods had initially put it. The challenges that faced the Ochre Government at this time were simply monumental. Despite being now in total war, there had been initial signs from the Mertagnian Government that they would deal 'favourably' with the Ochres, providing much needed funds through trade of whatever goods the Ochres find themselves in surplus of.

Of a particularly low point for Ochre morale, it was discovered that the Island of Fire had stopped smoking, and the magma which had given the Island it's distinctive name had stopped flowing and was well and truly hardening to rock by the time Ochre forces had gotten near it on boat. Early speculation was that the Ochre Gods had used the magma from the Island to help sustain the volcanic eruptions and ash clouds that had protected the Ochres for so long.

A welcome distraction to some Ochre Islanders of course was that the international community was gearing up at full speed toward World Cup 95, hosted by Chromatika and Sylestone. The lowering of the shields around the Ochre Islands brought a lot of news in quicker than the Bostopians could sail away with their tails between their legs back toward their homeland. It turned out that the Ochres had finished a disappointing 5th in qualification for World Cup 94, not even securing a playoff spot, before a very haphazardly pulled together team, replacing aging players with Ochre Island-eligible players from across Anaia had actually managed to make it to the final of CAFA7, losing to Huayramarca in the final.

The Ochres first game in World Cup 95 qualifying was an away game, a resounding 5-0 win against Why are you in here. While the defences hadn't come down in time for the Ochres to request their first game being away, this stroke of luck vitally gave Ochre organisers a little bit more time to start getting ready to welcome foreign visitors to the fairly unscathed Bellflower, the capital city of the Ochre Islands. Captured plans left behind by the Bostopians referenced leaving 'New Fenton' (as the Bostopians had originally named the city) unscathed, so that they could march through it as Bostopian troops had once done whilst they controlled the islands prior to the Ochre's declaration of independence during their victorious CAFA2 campaign.

While visitors to the Ochres should find a battered, though hardy people, they are of course asked to stay within Bellflower, as areas outside of the capital may still be littered with UXOs, especially on the beaches of eastern Mournhow Island, on which Bellflower sits.

[Bostopia]

Tarnlight Bay is without doubt one of Bostopia's most important bases on it's entire Bekkside shoreline. It wasn't the vast, bustling city that Kinnston was, who sat at the mouth of the River Thomas (where Bostopia and Legalese uneasily eyed each other up over the vast river that formed the border between the two countries), but instead a small town of about 30,000 people, most of them either related to a serving member of a Bostopian Armed Forces member, or working in a way that directly supported the military.

Despite the vast majority of Bostopia's Bekk Fleet #1 being diverted to coastal patrol duties off the Bostopian seashore, no-one in Tarnlight Bay was concerned at all when news came through that Mertagne had formally declared war on them. That being said, an urgent meeting was still called by the Emperor, and another (unknowingly) by The Duke, but time was of the essence and they had simply taken too long.

In a monitoring station in central Bostopia, young soldiers were watching screens which were momentarily lighting up with enemy pings approaching over the Bekk, then showing nothing again. It wasn't exactly a known bug to the Bostopian Air Force's systems, but there was every chance that a strong electrical storm over the Bekk had interfered with the early monitoring systems. Or, perhaps, a second theory held that an enemy was knocking out Bostopian early monitoring aircraft from long range one-by-one on their way toward their target. All the satellites of course were still firmly pointed over the Ochres (spare that one over Legalese) waiting for a glimpse of the islands through the accursed ash cloud and would take time to shift orbit to be over the Bekk, trying to see what was going on.

The second theory didn't hold very long at all, what with being ludicrous, Bostopia had been in Anaia forever and had never been defeated in military conflict, so the thought that anyone could knock out Bostopian early warning planes was ludi- 'General we're at war with Mertagne.' 'What?' 'We're at war with Mertagne, General. Their ambassador delivered the letter a little under fifteen minutes ago.' 'And why has it taken so long to get to me?!' 'Apparently it was thought it was a practical joke, General, it's taken this long to make sure it was real.' 'General' another officer butted in, the General, still seething, turned his head toward his Lieutenant. 'Lieutenant?' 'It's Tarnlight Bay'.

Tarnlight Bay itself was chaos – between the blare of air raid sirens and the screams and shouts of all sorts of people imaginable in every situation imaginable, the last of the Mertagnian planes still filled the skies, their weaponry blasting holes in the runways, destroying aircraft hangers, the dry docks needed to repair the ships that were either sinking or sunk were themselves being rendered inoperable, the cranes that serviced them were now as useless as the Bostopian officials who had let a foreign air force fly in basically unchallenged and kill members of the Bostopian military and, of course, some of their families.

The Emperor was embarressed and the Duke furious. They both had revenge on the mind, though while one immediately sent waves of bombers towards Mertagne's own Bekkside coastline, and some on a near suicidal mission deep across Mertagne toward Dannin, the other instead focused his attention on the man who was in the way of him gaining supreme power.

[Mertagne]

Neorudo, Touchpoint

”Taxi!”

I pull in quickly to the side of the road to take the fare. Clicking the button to slide open the doors on the passenger side, the lightly rain-soaked man steps inside and takes a seat in the back. Clutching a damp newspaper under the arm that was slowly leaching ink into his grey peacoat, he pauses for a bit too long before telling me his destination. “Can you drop me at the far end of Twilling Road?”

My encyclopaedic knowledge of Neorudo unfolds beneath me, bringing me along the same winding intersections and avenues I’ve trod for the last decade as a driver. The city is old, existing long before any Mertagnian set foot upon it, and there are decent shortcuts if you know where to look. I think of three, which would likely cut the journey to the road near the old docks down to about 20 minutes under normal conditions, but these last few months have been anything but. I eye the clock on the dash. Looks like this’ll be my last fare before the curfew sets in. The Bostopian bombing campaign has been ongoing for a few weeks now, and they typically strike a few hours after nightfall, if they come at all. Some nights, it’s just an eerie silence. I’ve got a friend who lives on the waterfront, and on the nights where he stays up he swears he can see the bombers trudge silently across the Bekk.

“Can I see your ID please?”, I ask the gentleman, and he fumbles around in the pockets of his coat looking for his wallet. These days I’ve had to be a bouncer as well as a cabbie. When this whole thing kicked off, the government was quick to deny services to anyone that could be an enemy combatant, and the easiest way to do this was to check identification whenever you were selling something. The gentleman hands me a small plastic card. One of these new-fangled IDs just for such a purpose. It says he’s Mertagnian, which is the only bit I’m interested in. I chuck it back to him and pull out from the side of the road and join the flow of traffic.

“Anything good in the paper?” I ask, having not had the chance to grab a copy of the Neorudo Crier on my lunch break.

“The usual, really. Great story about a farmer that captured a Bostopian airman outside of Kurtz. Apparently she clocked him with her shotgun, tied him to a chair, and held him at gunpoint until the MG arrived. The plane wrecked in her barn. Government’s going to buy her a shiny new tractor." The gentleman turns over the paper. “Oh, and we won in the football last night.”

“Who were we playing again?” I ask. I know the answer, but sometimes it’s good to ask a softball question to the passenger. Lets you show you’re listening without actually having to listen.

“Aeragny, looks like. Says Niki Barnard started the show with an early goal and then Jordan Will whacked in the others from set pieces. You a football fan?” he asks.

“Yeah, here and there. Got to get behind the team now and again. Ask me and I'll tell you I’m a Lehen man. I have you pegged for Tornacense, though, right? They’re closer to the docks.” I take a turn to the right and take the first shortcut down a narrow alleyway. This is one that the fancy modern maps don’t tell you about, as it’s been erroneously listed as a pedestrianised alley. People in the know know that’s just on Sundays when the houses and business put tables in the street and have a get together. Not that the fancy modern maps around here tell you anything nowadays - the GPS blocks make them absolutely useless. I clatter down the road as the old stone buildings pass us by. It’s just us, and for a moment the world feels quite small.

“I’m actually from Dannin. I’m a Signalman.” I look at the mirror and make eye contact with him. A smile forms on his face, his blond slicked hair shining as his head moves up slightly and his chest puffs out. His round glasses, pock marked with raindrops still, shield proud eyes. “It’s going to be a good season for us, I can feel it. At least we still get to play at home, unlike you guys. Who are you sharing a stadium with?”

“I think we’re shacked up with Claviers for now, but I couldn’t tell you.” I reply. Looking around as I’ve pulled back out onto the main road, the traffic in front of me is starting to snarl up a little now we’ve come closer to the main route up the mountain. A fair few people will be trying to get up there themslelves before curfew sets in. More and more people nowadays like to hide in the mountain itself. I don’t know how dangerous that is - what if there’s a cave in? It seems to be good enough for the government, though - one of a run of posters that have been splayed over the protective wooden covering placed on a shop front on this street suggests that we should invest in “Peak Protection” by going there when the siren wails.

I flick the radio on to get some noise, and to give the passenger something to focus on that isn’t the fact we’re stopped in traffic. MCLM Blue - the national talk station - blares out of the speakers.

“... the train, carrying munitions to Neorudo, was destroyed in the explosion. Seven troops are believed to have lost their lives. One of the pilots involved in the bombing run sustained enough damage from anti-aircraft guns on the coast that he crash landed into a barn near Kurtz. What the duckling didn’t know was that waiting for him as he crawled out of the blazing wreckage of his plane was local farmer Jeanea Undercritz, who swiftly delivered a knockout blow with the end of her hunting gun and dragged the assailant into the farmhouse. She swiftly called the Military Guard - which you can also call by dialling the emergency services number - and they arrived to discover a bloodied Bostopian tied to a kitchen chair. From all of us at MCLM Blue, we want to say - well done Jeanea! That’s the sort of frontier spirit we all need to be applying in our everyday lives. A reminder that the requirements for a gun licence have been relaxed in Touchpoint, so if you’d like to be more like Jean, get yourself down to the local registration office and see if you too can procure a firearm to blast the Bosties back across the Bekk!” Elsewhere, Dannin has tightened up its air defence, and has officially closed the airport to passenger traffic. Cargo traffic will still be operating, especially with the Airport serving as a connection to the Trans-Calanian railway, but flights will not be departing. Those wishing to travel abroad must have applied for permission to do from the government, and will be able…"

The traffic clears a little and we’re back on our merry way. I take shortcut number two - this one just involves peeling down a side street as at this time it’s often a little quicker than the main thoroughfare. It’s these kinds of basic shortcuts that set you apart from some of the more robotic taxi drivers. My rule of thumb is that if you’re offering snacks, you’ve lost your way. Nobody should be in your taxi long enough to get hungry.

“If you’re from Dannin, what are you doing here in Neorudo?” I ask the gentleman, looking back again.

He adjusts his glasses. “Oh, I moved here for work about three years ago. I work as a dentist.”

This interests me quite a bit. It’s not often I get someone with an actual job. Most of the time it’s people working ‘in a cloud’, or ‘with data, you wouldn’t get it’, or ‘as a pet groomer’. “Aha! Well, next time I need my whites done, I’ll let you know. How come you haven’t been snapped up by the war effort? Medical man such as yourself, and all.” Flattery sometimes gets you a tip on the fare, but not always. Some people don’t like being complimented. This guy doesn’t strike me as one of those.

“I’m sure my letter will come any day now. For now, I’m doing my part by keeping people smiling.” He winks at me as we pass down a tree-lined street. The lamp posts here have just started to crackle on - dimmed, of course, and heavily shielded from above to keep the light down on the ground.

I let out a chuckle - that joke was actually quite good. It almost makes me miss my window to head through shortcut number three - a car park that you can drive through which usually skips a pair of traffic lights. Realistically, I’m never going to miss it. I could do this route with my eyes closed. One thing I do notice as I drive through the car park is that a building a block away has been levelled, probably two nights ago. Debris spills out into the street, still, the worst of it hastily tidied and dumped into a pile. I think it was a bookshop when it was standing.

We draw towards the destination, and I can see that I’ve driven into a slightly more militarised part of town than I would like. This wasn’t here last time I came around this way. A large anti-aircraft gun sits menacingly on a green to my right, fixed pointing up at the sky in anticipation for the fight to come this evening. A member of the Military Guard stops me with a hand as I’m about two blocks away. I roll down the window and listen to what she has to say.

“We’re placing a medical supply cache here tonight, you can’t go any further. Sorry.” The MG takes a look at the dentist in the back, and puts on a puzzled expression as if we’ve just asked her to take the whole mountain and push it into the sea.

I turn to look back at the dentist. “Will this do?” I ask. The rain has stopped but the clouds linger in the sky. I never know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. Lets us see them less. Lets them see us less. The blind fighting the blind. I realise that it’s probably worse for us, as the Bostopians can just drop their bombs wherever and it’s likely to hit something of note. I shake my head quick enough to catch what the dentist replies. He hands over some cash and I click the button to make the doors fly open once again.

We nod at each other and he walks off into the muted, cast down glow of the night.

“Suppose you’ll be off home now?” asks the Military Guard.

“Seems that way. Unlikely anyone’s going out now.” I reply, and close the doors. I bring up the window and reverse the taxi back out of the street and head home.

---

That night was particularly bad. I woke up the next morning after about 4 hours of sleep to find that all of Twilling Road had been hit in the night. The Crier claimed nobody survived.

[Adab]

A Dance with Football
Snapshots of the lives of the people involved in Adabian football and those associated with them
For a full list of chapters click here. To read all the chapters in one go click here
For an (incomplete) list of major/prominent characters in this story click here and scroll down to the ‘Football’ section

Chapter 77: Blackmail

Saad Kaykali’s house
Adab City

“This is blackmail, you know that?” The light had gone out of Saad Kaykali’s face as he realized the gravity of the situation at hand. Not just what was happening on the streets, but also what his own former assistant manager – now elevated to manager – was embarking on. “I…” he spontaneously rose from his seat, for no reason other than he felt compelled to. He dragged his hand down the right side of his face, sighing. “Geopolitics, blackmail… all this has spiraled out of control. You know I’m not good at this stuff, right? All I know is football. Well, business too, but mostly football.”

“And yet, Mr. Kaykali, you know in your heart this is the right thing to do,” Rashid Abbas asserted – and Saad made no effort to deny. “Araqasdah is a rot in our sport, a black spot in this country. The nation is rising up against him and ilk – and rightfully so. History will judge us – you – harshly if you choose the wrong side, and you know very well that I’m telling the truth.”

And you are. “I’ll be honest with you, Rashid… I feel too old and out of my depth here. Maybe… it’ll better for everyone if you’d just stay on as manager. We need new blood-“

“Nonsense, Mr. Kaykali, you are the manager. I am only here for the show,” Rashid insisted. “When that old fossil has been removed, we will make sure you return to your rightful place. I’m more than happy to be your assistant. As you can see, I’ve already had enough trouble to deal with in this life, as it is.”

Silence, as Kaykali cleared his throat. “But what if I do not want to go along with-“

“You will want to,” Rashid’s voice turned dark for a moment, then softened. “In the name of Allah, Mr. Kaykali, I beg you, come to your senses. I come here on a mission from the Prince of Faraby. This is bigger than you and me, that’s the point. Everyone, everyone in this whole goddamned country has a stake in this.”

“Well, I-“

“And, once again, I am on a mission from the Prince of Faraby. I am here to make sure the mission is completed, so let us not make things any more difficult.”

“…And what is that supposed to mean?”

“My master,” Rashid said, “may not be very charitable to those who stand in his way. As it happens, his interests align with the people’s. But, Mr. Kaykali, I beg you, I’m sure you know what is right and what must be done.”

[Mytanija]

MYTANIJA 2-1 TIKARIOT

MYT: Papic-Papratovic 26’, Ovsyannikov 43’

TKT: Vercauteren 87’

MYT: 1. Besak; 2. Jesenko (sub. Song-Mihailovic 62’), 3. Pestotnik, 4. Mbala-Ekakia (c), 5. Koshkin, 6. Mytnjak (sub. Lusamba 62’); 7. Papez; 8. Ovcina (sub. Skenderovic 62’), 10. Ovsyannikov (sub. Issatsenko 75’); 9. Skara, 11. Papic-Papratovic (sub. Anusic 75’)

Ana Mecava-Catic let gravity do its work as she dropped down onto the plush couch, she was tired, the excitement and nerves of the match had taken it out of her. Mytanija had won, in the end, but Misel Ravnjak’s team had very nearly let a 2-0 lead slip against their regional rivals Tikariot. It was a meaningful victory for a few reasons, because it was against a major regional rival, because it was the first match of qualification and because it represented three points against the team who were – on paper at least – Mytanija’s main rivals for the top spot in the group. The couch was made from a luxurious suede material, very soft to the touch and the eclectic set of cushions looked like they could be straight out of a high-end interior design catalogue. Ana would normally appreciate that sort of thing a little more, but here she felt like if she closed her eyes for even a second, she would nod off to sleep.

Not that her trio of heavy-set bodyguards would allow her to do that, a quick tap on the shoulder would awaken her and a ‘I think you should head upstairs to sleep’ would set her on her way.

She was staying at the Lafitel Plaza hotel on the banks of the River Etva, in the shadow of the Avdivedjic Synagogue and not far from the Great Mosque. The hotel was new, built in a prime location in the centre of the city, a sign of changing times. Foreign business could confidently invest in Mytanija now, as long as they played by Mytanar rules, but it also showed how far beyond the Conflict the country had moved. Just a couple of generations ago the city was besieged by Kalinina’s forces, with Thessia’s walls still showing the scars to prove it. Getting investment of any sorts was a struggle in the immediate aftermath of that, never mind from something as high-profile and upscale as the Quebecois Accord Group.

Mecava-Catic had been many things in her lifetime. It now seemed a previous life where she had spent time in Thessian hospitals as a nurse. She was a mother. A politician. Premijer of Mytanija. She was also a proud Thessian. The regeneration of the city following the Mytanar Conflict was something she was incredibly proud of, both as a Thessian and due to her own involvement in making it happen. So many of the city’s notorious tower blocks had been flattened during the Conflict due to the Zentrian bombing. They hadn’t been particularly virtuous places before then, but they represented community, togetherness, equality. There were pockets of vice and danger, sure, corners where crime ruled the roost. During the reconstruction of Mytanija the government had prioritised rebuilding communities such as these, with input from the people. New city blocks sprung up, built to the specifications of their communities, beautiful places where fraternity, solidarity, education and health were prioritised above anything else. Thessia’s inner-city areas were a great example, the Zenit Toranj neighbourhood which played host to Thessia’s two greatest football clubs more than most.

It was perhaps, in her view, her greatest achievement in her time as Premijer. Rebuilding these places with the people who live there in mind. And it wasn’t just Thessia, it was something which had been reproduced across Mytanija: in Ebor, in Trunca, in Cassia and in Severyan. People were handed back their dignity, their right to live in a place built to support them. She had achieved a lot more in the past decade and a bit, too, successfully nationalising the country’s healthcare and energy systems, improving the provision of piped water across Mytanija and rolling back years of damage to rivers and lakes due to war and industrial maltreatment. Those things improved people’s lives too, but there was something very tangible about going back to the place where she grew up and seeing what were formerly ruins transformed into exceptional, appealing places to live, built for the people.

For a moment she wondered if the amount of time and effort which had gone into these places being rebuilt saved her from a sense of guilt at staying somewhere as luxurious as this hotel, but she shook it out of her mind just as quickly as it had entered as Zeljka Rogina, the Jedinstvo current Minister for Foreign Affairs and former party spokesperson for the environment, elegantly padded across the room.

“Zeljka,” Ana said, smiling lazily. “Have you recovered yet? Have a seat...” she gestured at the couch across from her.

“I think my heart rate has just about dropped back to normal,” Zeljka let out a gentle laugh. “I’m not sure I have ever experienced anything like that before. The smoke bombs and pyrotechnics before the game had even started, the noise, god, I’ve never heard noise like it! And the tension during the last ten minutes after Tikariot scored, wow, you can see why so many people love it so much!”

Zeljka, bless her, had not been chosen to attend the game for any particular love of football. Or for interest in any sport as far as Ana could tell. She had been chosen because she was exceedingly intelligent, educated at Prizren’s Kavka University, because she was young – just entering her early thirties – and because she was a strong communicator. Ana Mecava-Catic had brought her along because she wanted to tell her that she planned for her to be her successor, to lead Jedinstvo into the next election and to continue leading the country along the path which Ana had been laying for nearly twelve years.

Zeljka had so much potential, but she quickly needed to learn the importance of football, and sport more generally, to the Mytanar public if she were to follow in Ana’s footsteps. This little excursion had been a good way to do that.

“I know, and you have to think that that’s just as the Stadion Yolanda Savic. Only 25,000 people in there. If it had been held at the Novi Atletskistadion or Novi Kaunostadion there would have been two, nearly three times as many there.” Ana laughed. “I remember going to games with my dad and brothers as a little girl... The atmosphere back then was incredible, but at times scary. Things have improved a fair bit since then.”

“I will have to come to an Atletik game with you sometime, Ana.” Zeljka said. “I could see myself getting hooked quite quickly.”

“Sure, I’ll take you one day. I’m sure they would be happy to let their most high-profile fan in with a friend or two..” Ana laughed again, sarcastically rolling her eyes. She doubted that Zeljka would ever truly love the sport, she was from an upper middle-class family, as much as that sort of thing existed in Mytanija. Her parents were probably more into handball or swimming. But she was clever enough to be able to understand that the people of Mytanija adored the sport and wanted to be successful, and that understanding of people was what Ana, Liljana and Radenka had picked up on when discussing the prospect of her being Ana’s political heir.

“I’d be there, Ana!” Zeljka replied, standing to pick up a glass bottle of still water from the table in front of them before opening it, pouring it into a sturdy glass tumbler and expertly tottering back to the couch in her slightly-too-high-if-it-were-anyone-else heels. Ana didn’t always like how calculating she had become in her time as Premijer, but she knew as well as anyone that her appearance hadn’t done her any harm over the years and Zeljka was very much in that category too. In politics you had to use everything at your disposal to win.

“I’d love to be able to do more of that sort of thing, to be honest Zeljka,” Ana started, sitting forward slightly. “But there’s only so much time when you are Premijer. I’ve done this job for a long time now, it will be twelve years by the next election, that’s a long time for anyone.”

“You’ve done incredible things Ana,” Zeljka smiled, Ana knew that she was being genuine, the girl was a true socialist, but she was never quite able to shake the feeling of insincerity when people were complimenting her in one-to-one situations like this. One of her little foibles, which she always had to work on. Zeljka continued: “The polls show that the public want to keep you on again. The country knows just how much you have achieved in that time.”

“I know, but sometimes we have to make a choice to exit at the right time, Zeljka.” Ana said, Zeljka’s face fell slightly in realisation. “I’ve, no, we have achieved a lot. I haven’t done it on my own. We’ve done it together. But we also have to show that we are going to keep moving forward. That we aren’t going to allow things to grow stale and stagnant. And, frankly, I’d love to spend more time with my husband and my family. Going to Atletik matches, or just doing normal things, to be honest. I’ve missed out on a lot.”

“You’re going to give up the leadership?” Zeljka asked, almost mournfully.

“I am, ahead of the next election.” Ana said firmly. “And the reason why I asked you to come with me today is because I want to put my support behind you to be the next leader of Jedinstvo, and the next Mytanar Premijer, if you want it.”

“You... What?” Zeljka said, shocked. “I, I’m sorry, I don’t really know what to say Ana. This is a lot.”

“I know.” Ana said, standing up to walk around the table to sit alongside her, warmly putting her arm around her younger comrade. “And you don’t have to make a decision right now. I know it’s a lot to think about, but I can see so much potential in you, you’re young enough to be able to do what I did. You’re smart enough to bring us even further forward, to improve things even more. I believe in you. But it’s a big choice, and if you don’t feel like you want to do it yet, or that you can do it yet, then that is fine too. There is no pressure, Zeljka.”

“I... I, yeah, I think I will need time.” Zeljka said, thoughts clearly rushing through her head. “What about Liljana? Or even Radenka?” She asked, referencing Liljana Zakelj, the Minister for Sport and Ana’s closest confidante; and Radenka Kovacevic, the Ekologija leader-turned-defector who had been the Minister for the Environment for her old party before picking-up the brief once again with Jedinstvo when the plan for her to cross the floor worked so successfully that it took seats off their former coalition partners.

“The public voted for Radenka and for us despite her defecting with some of her supporters. They liked what we – Jedinstvo – put on our policy agenda. People saw that move as a bit underhanded but were prepared to see past it because of what we could offer aside from that. They wouldn’t trust Radenka...” Ana explained, Zeljka nodded.

“And Liljana? Surely, she would be the most fitting person to come after you? Especially after the success she has had as Minister for Sport? We’ve just had the most successful Olympics ever!”

“Liljana is a similar age to me. She wants to take more of a backseat, I’ve discussed this with her. She wants to be able to support whoever comes next and she thinks the world of you. She would be a really powerful person to have in your corner, especially if I’m off the scene. The MNK would throw all sorts at you, people on the left might try to challenge you, but Liljana has seen it all. She thinks you can lead Jedinstvo and the country onwards and she can help you to do it.”

“I don’t know what to say, Ana.” Zeljka said, looking at the Premijer shakily.

“As I said, you don’t need to decide right now.” Ana said calmly, a hint of warmth touching at the corners of her mouth. “Sleep on it. Think about it on the way back to Esca. Speak to your family, but only people you know you can trust, we can’t allow this to leak. Then, when you have decided, let me know.”

“Okay,” Zeljka said. “Thanks, Ana.”

“No problem,” Ana replied, before standing up. “I don’t know about you, but I am shattered. I was nearly falling asleep before you joined me. I’m going to go to bed.”

“Yeah, I think I need to do the same.”

“Wise, you need as much of it as you can get.” Ana said. Zeljka couldn’t tell if she meant generally or that she would need as much as possible if she agreed to the plan which had just been put to her. Ana started to head towards the tall, oak doors of the room, turning momentarily as she neared the exit. “Oh and Zeljka, think about it, but don’t take too long. We need to start putting a plan together.”

[Naixi]

OOC: Folks, it's finally come together. When I say I've been looking forward to this for a long time, I mean it. I'm proud to unveil a rolling tabletop RPG series cum NationStates RP, loosely titled 奶昔戰爭, or Wars of Milkshake. Wait, "Milkshake?" Sorry, Naixi. Wars of Naixi. Wars of Naixi, that was it. Yeah, don't look into that any further. Definitely wasn't a consequence of me randomly generating a text string, thinking "hey that kinda sounds Chinese," and using it as my nation name before checking to see what the word meant.

The characters, or heroes, to be followed in this campaign have all been previously introduced in Naixi roleplays of yore, but they'll now be dependent on rolls of dice to determine whether they succeed at anything, from brushing their teeth to shooting a bad guy in the face. I'll still be writing the story, of course, in the same way a DM would create and supervise the world in which tabletop gamers tootle around doing their thing, but the characters will now have to depend on their own skills to accomplish their respective goals.

The tabletop system I will be using for these characters is Feng Shui 2, an update to an RL system that was created in the 90s and themed around the Hong Kong action movie genre, which had recently benefitted from a massive spike in popularity in the Global North. It was a natural choice for me to use this system when so much of my early RPing as Naixi was inspired by the works of John Woo and Tsui Hark. When I came across the source book and immediately thought "oh, I'm using this," I was delighted to discover both that the rules were simple and that the world of the game would force me to take my roleplays in a sillier, more fantastical direction. I've really enjoyed it so far and I haven't even properly rolled the campaign out until now - all I've done is write the heroes' background stories.

Feng Shui 2 is intentionally not at all "crunchy," to use a term that the real tabletop perverts will already be familiar with. All skill checks are centered, in one way or another, around rolling two exploding six-sided dice, one positive and one negative. The focus of the game is to encourage players to think about their heroes as characters in a fast-paced 90s action movie, not as strategically-built machines designed to thrive in a clockwork universe. As such, you'll notice my RPs are designed to read like a movie script.

I'd love to unleash this series of RPs to the broader community at some point, though for now I really only have the time to run my own characters' campaign. If you're interested in a collab on this, though, please reach out by TG or on the Discord. I think this has legs and I hope you guys do too.

The events of this campaign will be almost entirely canon for the Naixese universe, though I leave the door open for a delete later on down the road. Because the RPs will read like a bad action movie, or series of bad action movies, I'll have a convenient out valve later on to say "oh well those stories were fictional even within the Naixese universe." It's not that I'm hesitant to introduce magic and time travel to this world - that ship has sailed, I think - it's more that I haven't quite yet decided if I want to accept the Feng Shui 2 universe's explanation for the evil at the heart of Western imperialism and ethnonationalism or not. So, canon until I say it was all just a movie. Which I will probably never say.

I'd recommend thinking about this campaign the way I'd recommend that someone think about Paul Verhoeven's 1997 masterpiece Starship Troopers. This series is, like Troopers, a purposefully low-quality work of (hopefully entertaining) fiction produced by the very fascist society it depicts. The realism and veracity of the tale are less important to focus on; the values espoused by the characters, which are reflections of the values of the fascist Naixese nation state, are more important to focus on.

Because note that while all the main characters nominatively fight for justice in some abstract sense, all have personal definitions of justice that muddy their intentions. Even though they sometimes fight against functionaries of the Naixese state, they almost always do so because they feel the right-wing Naixese state is insufficiently right-wing. If you look closely, you'll notice that all four main characters are - in their own way - robustly cynical reactionaries. They're fun as hell! I kind of love them all! But they, and the "movie" they "appear" in, aren't avatars of a political ideology I would personally agree with. I would not encourage you to agree with it either.

For those who really care about it, I'll provide a link to a document with all the stat rolls broken down by stat. It won't be much - just a copy of the output from a Sheets file that sims the Feng Shui 2 dice rolling - but if you really like nerding out on that kind of stuff I'll provide it.

ESCAPE FROM FUTENGMA

In the late afternoon sun, we see a view of the gently-lapping ocean from the main deck of a shoddy iron barge. No crew members are in sight, and the only motion we can observe is the flapping dark blue fabric of a miserable old life raft, stowed improperly against the guard rail. The conditions are dry, a surprise given that the barge is twenty miles out from the coastal Naixese city of Futengma, known for its persistent rain. A few opulent yachts float several hundred yards out. We can't see, but there are spectators on those yachts, all looking on with binoculars, waiting eagerly.

Suddenly, a massive clamoring as a huge crowd, perhaps two dozen strong, pour out of a cabin and onto the deck! They're all screaming at each other furiously, and a huge brawl appears to be occurring. In the center of the fray are five figures. One, a young Naixese woman no older than 25, is dressed in fine, flowing red garments that appear to originate in the 19th century. She has a large scar on the right side of her face and has a glass eye, but is otherwise an attractive girl. She carries a fearsome cutlass. Another is a middle-aged Naixese man in a simple white tunic. He has a long black braid flowing down his back and is threateningly brandishing a fancy umbrella. Another is a young white man in a fine suit. He wears expensive sunglasses and on his face his expression is calm and confident despite the fracas. In his hand he carries a small pistol - for the gun nuts in the audience, it's recognizable as a classic Palther PPK. Then there is a young Naixese man, perhaps 30, who flaunts his style with an ostentatious and fabulously fashionable purple and green waistcoat. His hair is beautifully manicured and a bright green scarf dangles over his shoulder as he smoothly rotates his shoulders and prepares to mount an unarmed attack. Finally, a shabby-looking young Naixese ruffian in a dirty gray T-shirt lifts a whaling harpoon to his shoulder, shivering at the prospect of combat.

Around them, encircling them, is a large group of simply-dressed laborers. Many are dressed in simple tan uniforms. A few have bandages wrapped around their hands. Most have bright red bandanas tied around their heads or strapped on as armbands. All are carrying machetes of varying sizes, and they menace the five heroes in the middle of the crowd. One executes a spectacular whirling motion with her machete and steps forward.

YI WAN: Hyyyye-ya!

The camera pauses on this woman's scowling face as she swings her machete. Then, a blurry camera effect. We are meant to understand that this is a flashback. The grubby looking ruffian swings open a locker in an interior area of the barge and begins frantically yanking out weapons - whatever he can find.

ZHONG LAU: Yi Wan is the forewoman of the union. She's bad news - a well-trained martial artist and a known communist. Watch out for her. If she gets close to you with a blade, duck.

The man in the purple and green waistcoat with the lime green scarf raises an eyebrow.

GUO FENG: Sorry, what did you say your name was?

ZHONG LAU: I told you, Zhong Lau. I went to Grandmaster Kwai's school in Qiawutian, just as you did.

GUO FENG: Funny, I don't remember you.

ZHONG LAU: Yeah, well, you're, uh... old.

We snap back to real time and Yi Wan's machete swings down. It misses Guo Feng by inches as he shifts his weight to the left just in the nick of time.

The blur affect returns as we go back to the interior cabin area.

ZHONG LAU: Listen, you guys gotta trust me. Grandmaster Kwai sent me.

DAVID IRVING: Grandmaster who?

ZHONG LAU: Kwai, the guy you owe your life to. He's the head of the Guiding Hand in the Contemporary Juncture!

DAVID IRVING: Afraid that's all Greek to me.

ZHONG LAU: Yeah, well, you've been locked in the Hub, what would you know? Listen, your friends here showed up to rescue you but they don't have the last-minute intel that I have!

Zhong Lau points to Xiao Bo and Guo Feng, who look on, baffled.

ZHONG LAU: Your brother is on this boat, pal. Your brother. Fred Irving.

DAVID IRVING: What?

ZHONG LAU: No bullshit. He's here. Stowed away down below. He's here to make sure all four of you die. He's working with the corrupt union!

We flash back to real time. Another laborer, Maggie Yee, has stepped forward. She angrily swings her machete behind her back and then lunges at David. Her cannon-like swing buzzes over his head, and he is forced to adjust his glasses.

The next shot is a close-up on two mooks, men who look eager to join in the fight. Guo Feng leaps at them acrobatically, his scarf trailing behind him like a work of art. One takes a closed fist to the throat, and as Guo Feng launches his center of gravity rightward, the other takes a foot the the back of his knee. As he is crying out in pain and sinking to his knees on the deck, Guo Feng drives a foot through his eye with a crunch.

Finally, the camera switches to the red-robed woman with only one eye. She has grabbed ahold of a loose mooring rope dangling from an overhang. With a clever tap of her boot, she swings past one of the red bandana-wearing laborers and drops. As part of her landing, she rolls and swings her cutlass upward. The hoodlum is takes the cutlass straight to his armpit, and with an awful sloshing sound his arm comes clean off. Screaming, he collapses to the deck.

The camera regains its fuzzy effect one last time and we re-enter the flashback.

XIAO BO: What's a union?

ZHONG LAU: You don't know what a union is? Where are you from, the Past Juncture or something?

Nobody replies.

ZHONG LAU: Oh, so you are. My mistake, my mistake. Sorry. Anyway, yeah, unions. You don't need to know what they are. They're bad, mostly. But this one's especially bad. They're all commies. They hate the government. But they also hate the Guiding Hand. They say we're too "traditionalist." So they're working with Fred Irving. They're in for a big payday if they make sure you guys don't make it off this barge alive!

DAVID IRVING: And my brother is with them? On board the barge?

ZHONG LAU: Yup. He knows your plan. Knows you turned up with some rich guy's yacht... I guess that's you...

He gestures to Guo Feng.

ZHONG LAU: ...and that you dodged all the TV cameras to swim on board and free these two. I'm telling you guys, these union folks, they're bad news. They're tough. Take my advice and gear up here in the hold while you can. Old timer, I heard you need an umbrella - there's one over there by the door - and uh, here's your pistol. They told me to bring this model for you.

In the same shot, Tan Sifu picks up the umbrella and David accepts the pistol. Guo Feng admires the sidearm.

GUO FENG: PPK?

DAVID IRVING: That it is.

ZHONG LAU: Guess I'm stuck with this.

Zhong Lau looks down at a heavy-looking, rusty harpoon leaning against the wall of the cabin. We cut back to real time and the fuzzy effect disappears for the last time.

He doesn't look confident, but Zhong Lau sees an opportunity to thrust his harpoon forward at Maggie Yee. She dodges out of the way fairly gracefully, but lets out a horrible yelp as the harpoon catches the small of her back. Impressed with himself, he raises the harpoon above his head and grins.

Yi Wan, the ringleader, steps forward now. Her scowl indicates clearly that Zhong Lau's words were true: these thugs want them dead. She lifts the machete over her head and aims for Tan Sifu.

YI WAN: Gyyyyaa!!!

Her blade doesn't come down with enough force, but she still catches the kung fu master right in the leg. He barely reacts, grimacing a bit but maintaining his poise and dignity.

Next shot. It's a wide lens shot and we get a view of the whole deck. There are 11 pissed-off laborers with machetes bearing down, with the three main union boss women hanging back for a moment. Three of the mooks get ready to whale on Xiao Bo, while two each furiously collapse on each of the others. In a flurry of action on multiple fronts, the gang swing their machetes wildly. Somehow, they all miss. The camera switches to a close-up of one laborer missing so badly that she bashes another laborer in the face with the flat side of her blade. He's fine, but it's an embarrassment to both of them.

We return to Tan Sifu. Yi Wan has glided to the other side of the battlefield and he switches his focus. The wounded Maggie Yee, still bleeding from the harpoon strike on her back, is unaware of the Sifu's presence. He focuses his chi and then cartwheels forward, trying to hit her in the head with his trusty umbrella. But she ducks, and her well-timed upward elbow strike sends Tan Sifu tumbling down a staircase onto a lower deck. His umbrella flies overboard as he lands.

XIAO BO: Tan Sifu!

TAN SIFU: I'm fine! Keep fighting!

We return to another wider-lens shot. The camera centers on David Irving, who has been casually loading his Palther PPK. At last finished with his task, he adjusts his sunglasses, clears his throat, and promptly unleashes a hail of bullets on a couple of mooks closing range on him. Both are struck in the chest and fall to the deck, issuing death groans.

The camera turns to a beautiful, petite young laborer.

CINDY CHU: You think you can stop us, you disgusting gangsters?! The power of solidarity, between the workers of Futengma and the workers of the world, fuels us onward! HYYYYEEEEE-YAA!!

TO BE CONTINUED

Stat Rolls

[Vilwandia]

Vilwandia Starting XI for Santa-Barbara (A)