World Cup 99 - RP Thread

[Ko-oren]

Sunset, then sunrise, then dusk again. Katanmak tuned into Ko-oren versus Kanzlia. One, there was no way that that idiot Mivune actually ran with his plans, right? Two, there was no way he'd manage to communicate his plan and flesh it out within a single day? And three, there was no way that it would actually lead to a win, right?

As the pundits in the pregame show already figured out, there would be a big tactical shift. Announcing the list of starters, it did have three central midfielders on, alongside a centreback in a box-to-box role and little wingback presence. The Dragonflies failed to establish midfield superiority all cycle, from qualifiers to the group stage, despite having four players there, and playing one guy out of position as well as three more players with the exact same play style was not going to change that. No finisher listed - sure, Sawyer had been a little underwhelming, but he still was the only one with a killer instinct. As much as they tried, midfielders shooting from outside the box just wasn't posing the same threat that Sawyer could even when not on form.

The third Round of 32 in three cycles, and so far the Dragonflies had done the Ko-orenite thing by losing right out of the gate. There was every sign that that was going to happen again, but the team could play into Juliasterinthen's agenda much more quickly and efficiently by just losing the game. On three points and a negative goal difference, it was next to impossible to advance to the Round of 32 - Reçueçn had likely already locked up fourth place with only a massive win against Banija being a potential ticket to third place and even that hinges on other results going their way. With a draw - four points and a goal difference of zero - now there's historical evidence of that being enough for qualification every time. And as that's the bar to clear, the safest bet would be for the team to sink below Reçueçn and stick to the three points. Kanzlia had to win.

Now, Kanzlia was also the least likely team to help out. Ranked 49th, as opposed to Reçueçn's 39th and Banija's 20th, they were the longest shot to beat the Dragonflies, so Katanmak felt the need to seize control. That said, the Prowlers had a legitmate shot to victory, with their open approach, 4-3-3, and Katanmak hoped that they'd play wide, bypass the midfield, and simply form a massive box around the centrally packed Ko-orenites. All that he hoped was that Mivune didn't figure that out, but knowing the staff - and in many cases hiring said staff personally - he knew that someone would figure it out. The rest of his plan hinged on whether Kanzlia could open the score early and that Mivune wouldn't adjust his approach until half time or thereafter.

Also on Juliasterinthen's side: the complete lack of clutchness of the Ko-orenites. Aside from two cycles, 87 and 89, which had Juliasterinthen on board as a player and a coach respectively, the Green and Blue had never shown a single shred of 'wanting it more'-ness.

But then kickoff was there and Katanmak was proven wrong immediately. Nakasarudhen established ground superiority by outclassing the Kanzlian central midfielder and Ogalthundhen and Entatingun being there to help out and take command of the centre circle. Those in green and blue found a free player to pass to, those in black and white were reduced to chasers and runners, and once they won the ball, they were immediately pushed into a pocket by two defenders with no options other than a risky one. Minute eleven: Laza ran in behind the defence and scored 1-0. Minute twenty-three: Laza sent a low cross into an oncoming Senothonnau and he blasted in the 2-0.

That's when Katanmak knew his gambit failed. He turned his attention to the bracket, but there were far too many unknowns. He had to wait another hour or so, and the full path to the final would be known - or in the case of Ko-oren, the full path to the Round of 32 and subsequent exit would be certain.

Before that happened, Entatingun directed a loose ball into the top corner, well out of reach of the goalie. A very late Pisaric goal, 90+3, did something back.

Oh well, at least TJUN-ia would be ready to boot the team out of the World Cup - the road to full control over the national team and the KFA was still fully in view. And even, in the absolute hell-freezing-over scenario they'd survive that, Farfadillis could always be counted on - they were basically Valanora up until the semifinals. No worries. Katanmak was going to have his cake and eat it too. Just a shame he would have to give his apartment in Koroa City up for that - Maethoru didn't have as nice a view, nor the nightlife, but it'd have to do for the greater good.

Meanwhile, he did still have some important phone numbers stored. Could he? Ask for some favours to get nominated for the WCC Presidency anyway?

[Squornshelan Remnant States]

Esti had been surprised at first, seeing the names written on Madeiros's white board as the team gathered in the dressing room prior to warm-ups. There'd of course been speculation, running wild in the media and even bubbling under the surface at training in the days leading up to the Black-and-Reds knockout match. The team had just not been up to the expected standard, particularly in defense. They'd scored nine through the three matches of the group stage, that wasn't so bad, but conceding nine along the way was troubling. Some sources, particularly in the Brantid media, went after Bláha, arguing that the team's longtime first choice backstop was due for a spell at the bench, if not an early retirement.

Absurd. Everyone on the team knew Rado's quality, and they also knew they'd hung him out to dry more than once, not least on HUElavia's winner.

The talk about the defense had been wide ranging, and there was a lot of uncertainty among the players. Sevet-Ibilx had done a good job of keeping a lid on it though. They weren't the most outspoken captain, leading more by example, but in this case they'd made a few short statements here and there, keeping the team focused on training and quashing any speculation, at least out loud, about who'd be getting the start for the matchup against Doubeia. Part of the uncertainty was driven by the exemption granted to Doubeia by the WCC allowing them to essentially field two teams. Entirely unfair, most would argue, fielding fresh legs every other match, and allowing each of their alternating teams extra time to prepare for their particular opponents. That too, was a bit absurd if you thought about it for very long.

In any case, there hadn't been much point wasting time thinking about that situation either, and the team had simply focused on cracking the strong defensive approach of Dani Giuseppa and the Doubeian women's national team. Their defensive unit of five would take some time and effort to pull apart, though their outnumbered attack should be a lesser challenge to handle. 'Should' being the operative word there. Esti and her teammates knew they'd been expected to win their group comfortably. Hence the anticipation, expectation even, that some change was coming. Still, the revelation pre-match did come as a bit of a shock.

Scrawling the names Hobeika, O'Corra, and Shiben across his white board just below Bláha's, Madeiros revealed that he was turning over the entire back line. Not only that, but Esti's own surname soon appeared at right mid, with Starovoitov shifted forward and Aaltonen absent. On the left, Ksudach was up front, with Shakhnovich behind, a combination that had proven deadly in prior cycles. It was a lot of change to take in all at once, and the team looked to Madeiros to hear what he had to say.

"Those of you making the start tonight, take this as an opportunity, and a responsibility. I picked each and every one of your to this team for a reason, even if you haven't been in the lineup so much yet. So tonight you remind me why that was. Those of you taking a seat, you should also be planning to remind me why I picked you. Show me in warmups that you're committed to play whatever role this team needs to win another World Cup. Where you start the match, on the field or on the bench doesn't have to be where you finish it. Do all of that for me and you'll all have another chance to remind me how good you are in training before the Round of Sixteen."

As pre-match pep-talks, it maybe wasn't the most inspiring. Madeiros certainly hadn't whipped them into a frenzy, but there was certainly an air of quiet determination about the team as they took the field, shook hands with their opponents' starting lineup, and as they quickly took control of possession in midfield as things got under way. There were certainly battles early on. Barkova and Rozhkova fighting for control of the Doubeian's favored wing with Ksudach and Shakhnovich. Somehow, though, whenever the Doubeians appeared they might take the upper hand, there was Sevet-Ibilx pivoting outside in support, or Shiben moving up to close things down or provide an outlet for a drop. On the opposite wing, Esti found herself really working. She launched overlapping runs whenever Starovoitov drifted in, lurked around the edge of the box when Ksudach took the ball toward the far corner flag, drifted inside to give Tatsinan and Sevet-Ibilx more options as the midfield worked to run Oborina and Shubina ragged.

And the goals followed. McGill played a flick on of one of Starovoitov's crosses and Ksudach finished with the ease of a veteran goalscorer, which of course he was. The Black-and-Reds took a narrow lead into the half, having played it cagey to that point. Despite media pundits' descriptions, no chess match had ever been such a physical slog. It was all Esti could do not to simply pour water down her throat. Even here on the Isle, it was hot. The massive concrete and steel bulk of Vogsphere hoarding the day's heat well into dusk and after sundown, and the lack of green spaces in the old Imperial capital didn't help matters. Still, with the Black-and-Reds holding the ball more, the Doubeians had to be suffering as well, not to mention now needing to chase the match.

Madeiros made no changes at the half, expressing guarded satisfaction, but urging his team to push for more. "Don't be content with this one-goal lead. We know from experience that's not safe, and playing it safe never won anything anyway." The team took the advice to heart, if anything pressing harder than they had in the first half. Perhaps expecting a more measured approach from a team with the lead, the Doubeians seemed surprised by the pressure they were immediately under, and a slow reaction from the defense allowed McGill to slip through, in alone against Leonova for an easy bottom corner finish to double the lead. She wheeled away, arms spread wide, matching the grin on her face. It felt different now. They were playing their game, imposing pace and style on their opponent, forcing them to react rather than initiate.

Naturally, they kept at it. Calling two goals enough just isn't terribly Squornshelan after all, and neither is quitting when the job's only half done. Esti got a chance to test Leonova next, a few minutes after the goal. Leonova held it after Esti left it too near the Doubeian keeper, but it felt good putting something on target. The team kept up like that, limiting Doubeian possession and chances with a counterpressing approach that toed the line separating enthusiastic and frantic. Esti didn't manage another good shooting attempt, but got a few good crosses in before she felt herself starting to fade. After she scuffed an attempted volley into the box, sending it harmlessly spinning over the end line for a goal kick instead, she knew what was probably coming, and soon enough, her number came up on the third official's board, Madeiros finally making a nod toward defense with just 15 minutes left by sending on Nur Amjol, definitely more of a holding player than Esti. Exchanged high fives on the way off and she was on her way to the bench, feeling uncertain, but Madeiros had warm words. "You left it all out there, Madathil. Good work, have a rest." As he spoke Starovoitov swung a cross out that Tatsinan met perfectly on the volley. No keeper alive would have stopped the resulting rocket, and Madeiros had his arm around Esti's shoulder as they leaped up and down, celebrating the goal.

As the final whistle went, the normally taciturn Bláha leapt in the air and landed with an emphatic double fist pump. The defense converged on him, and soon the players from the bench and further forward joined in, jumping and shouting as they formed a tight knot around the keeper. To the neutrals watching, the celebration might have seemed out of place. Why should the third-ranked hosts be so excited about beating their 71st-ranked opponents, or making the Round of Sixteen? On the field, though, the team gathered around their goalkeeper wasn't cheering for a clean sheet, knockout advancement, or a simple win over a nominally inferior opponent. Rather, they celebrated a return to form, a rediscovery of themselves at the best possible time, and the chance to do something very special going forward in this tournament.

[Farfadillis]

Pasado ya un buen rato, ambos arcos seguían en cero. Farfadillis había tenido las mejores aproximaciones, pero los ángulos de tiro que había venido consiguiendo Robineau no eran ideales, y el golero Drawkian venía luciéndose. Estaba altísimo y los defensores sabían tapar las oportunidades para tiros bajos salvo que uno los esquinara. Se notaba que habían trabajado en la semana. Muchos de los movimientos instintivos de la Vherderoja parecían poder predecirlos y frenarlos.

Pero siempre hay formas de meter el primer gol. Al menos eso se piensa en Farfadillis, de norte a sur, de este a oeste. La clave, en este caso, pasaba por Qehu Daj Zhdihi. El hábil puntero poseía una característica específica que le daría un rol protagónico en el partido: sabía ponerte en situaciones donde no podés equivocarte. Sus centros, específicamente, eran bizarros. Venenosos por demás. Muchas veces parecía directamente no estar apuntando al delantero, tanto jugando para RCU como para Farfadillis. Pero tampoco parecía estarle errando! Pasaba demasiado seguido que mandaba algún centro rastrero, o mordido, o llovido que terminaba siendo difícil de despejar o justo terminaba entre dos defensores o caía dentro de la jurisdicción del golero y del defensa, o un sinfín más de situaciones jodidas. Un buen defensa normalmente podía sacar un centro suyo a la mierda y fue. Pero tenía que hacerlo siempre. Dale cinco centros a Qehu y alguna macana seguramente se termine mandando la defensa. Bueno, dicho y hecho.

Allá por el minuto treinticinco, Jáánsêlà le abre la pelota a Qehu para que encare pegado a la raya. El joven puntero amaga una, dos, y hasta tres veces, pero su oponente no recula. Sin embargo, sí se le abre suficiente espacio para mandar un centro envenenadísimo al área con la pierna inhábil. Que de inhábil no tiene nada, cabe aclarar.

La pelota iba casi rastrera pero picando feo. Si hubiese sido tiro al arco, hubiese sido de esos que los goleros detestan porque no pueden adivinar bien a dónde va la pelota. Robineau siguió de largo, aparentemente sin buscar la pelota, pero manteniéndose habilitado por el lateral derecho que arrastraba Sürréo. El central va y la despeja medio mal en la desatención asociada a la presión del momento; los siete mil amagues de Quehu ya de por sí habían sido, mentalmente hablando, hostigaciones. Cuestión que la pelota cae al borde del área y Jáánsêlà la revienta. El golero llega y da rebote. Robineau alcanza a cabecearlo. Ángulo feo, difícil. Rebote alto. De esos que si no hacés el gol te putean de por vida, pero si sos delantero sabés que te pagan por errarlos menos de la mitad de las veces. Gol. Uno a cero.

Roto el cero, y aniquilado el plan de Drawkland de frenar los ataques de Farfadillis, el oponente volvió al que era su plan por defecto: atacar. El cambio fue muy repentino, aunque nada raro dada la desventaja. Cuestión que en solo unos minutos ya habían empatado, producto de una desatención fuerte en defensa, sobre todo de parte de Hâx. Ügüs es un defensa muy talentoso, pero también es un idiota. Salir jugando cuando tu equipo está presionado por cinco sabuesos muertos de hambre es, inherentemente hablando, MUY OBVIAMENTE UNA MALA IDEA. Cuestión que Cecilia Benbow le sacó la guinda sobre el borde del área y remato bajo y esquinado. Grujić no tenía nada para hacer, mucho menos con sus relativas carencias en los aspectos más acrobáticos de su posición.

Pasaron los minutos. Hubo cambio chico de descuentos. Segundo tiempo en marcha. Sin cambios.

Drawkland metió el segundo de vestuario. Centro llovido desde la izquierda y Toni Dillan se coló en el área quién sabe cómo. Flor de cabezazo. Difícil disputarlo con lo que medía el paisano. Otra vez nada para hacer para Grujić. Ni tres minutos del segundo tiempo iban. Los jugadores de la Vherderoja empezaban a recriminarse entre sí. Yuan sacó a Hâx y puso a Türrângel para ganar un poco de dominio aéreo, por más inutil que pareciese.

De forma relativamente impensada, en lo que había sido un partido parejo, Drawkland ahora estaba arriba. Estamos hablando de un equipo que clasificó a once mundiales antes de este, llegó a octavos tres veces y la quedó en todas. Un equipo sin experiencia, ni siquiera apelando a libros de historia, en comparación con Farfadillis, que tenía más de un jugador que había jugado más de una semifinal del mundo. Día y noche en experiencia. Efectivamente, fue lo que revirtió el resultado. Bueno, eso y la diferencia en calidad, que Farfadillis muchas veces tiene a su favor pero también frecuentemente fracasa en plasmar sobre el campo de juego.

Con paciencia impaciente, Farfadillis empezó a buscar cual víbora el resultado. Los Kick Corps se replegaron salvajemente. No esperaron nunca dar vuelta el resultado, y claramente no sabían que en un caso así no te metés atrás. Tenés que oler sangre. Cada jugador vistiendo de rojo ese día sabía que para ganar estos partidos tenés que saber oler sangre. Del más joven al más viejo. Así es el fútbol, lisa y llanamente.

Al principio se le encargó a Sürréo y Daj Zhdihi tirar centros llovidos al área, pero claramente no estaba dando mucho resultado ante la imponente altura del equipo rival. Jáánsêlà trataba de cabecear, pero Baliñas siempre quedaba atento a los rebotes. Eventualmente, llegado el minuto setenta y siete, llegó el gol. Cambio repentino de planes. Qehu tiró un centro rastrero, de vuelta hiper venenoso. Rebote fue y rebote vino, todo adentro del área, y en la escaramuza Robineau logró pega flor de zapatazo. Reed lo despejó con los puños, casi sin querer. La pelota voló hacia el punto penal, donde Baliñas estaba sabiamente esperando, sabiendo que si caía por ahí la pelota, iba a tener la chance de pegarle como le pega él: como un verdadero crack. Al ángulo fue. Otro zapatazo. Inapelable. Dos a dos.

Y, ahí sí, se olía la sangre. Drawkland le tenía miedo a Farfadillis por enfrentamientos anteriores, algunos muy anteriores al partido del momento. Que Farfadillis ganaría se sentía, en la previa, como una obviedad. Pero en realidad era una profecía autosuficiente: Drawkland había tenido todo para ganarlo, pero no lo había sabido aprovechar. Con el paso en falso que implica perder la ventaja y no saber si querés apostar por la lotería de los penales o salir a buscar el resultado, con la contradicciones tácticas de ambos planes para un equipo como Drawkland, con cada jugador de Farfadillis con el arco entre ceja y ceja... no fue sorpresa que cayeran dos goles más antes de terminados los noventa.

El tercero fue en el minuto ochenta y tres, tan solo seis minutos después del empate. Sürréo metió un pase en profundidad divino, Robineau tiró el taco y llegó a toda velocidad Jáánsêlà al área, dejando atrás a su marcador y reventando el palo izquierdo del golero. No abrió el borde interno ni nada. Le dio de lleno con el empeine. Otro zapatazo inapelable. El takilante estaba en su mejor versión y se notaba.

Tanto se notaba, de hecho, que el cuarto llegó solo dos minutos después, cuando este mismo le sacó la pelota a un jugador oponente en una desatención similar a la de Hâx en el primer tiempo. Se fue expreso al arco, pero pasó al costado al llegar al golero. Picando a toda velocidad, Qehu Daj Zhdihi llegó a tirarse al piso para empujarla adentro. Merecidísimo gol para el puntero que estaba teniendo su partido consagratorio. No sería nombrado mejor jugador del partido, porque su protagonismo había sido algo sutil, pero sin dudas había sido el jugador más importante de la selección. Gracias a él habían metido el primero y gracias a él lo habían empatado; ganarlo de ahí en más era un trámite.

Los jugadores de Drawkland se rindieron tras el cuarto gol. No conscientemente, claro, pero se les notaba en el lenguaje corporal. Ya sabían que estaban más cerca de perder siete a dos que de ganar el partido, aunque fuera por penales. El partido quedó así: un cuatro a dos que había constituido un gran susto para todos los que estaban sintonizando desde Farfadillis. Pero también terminó siendo un cuatro a dos justo: Farfadillis había logrado imponerse con total justicia. Era lo esperable: siempre le ganan a Drawkland cuando las papas queman.

Por eso mismo, en cambio, es que era tan preocupante que su siguiente oponente fuera Ko-oren, un cuadro al que nunca en la vida le habían ganado un partido importante. Quizás esta nueva generación, despojada, potencialmente, del maleficio, podría cambiar la historia. Todo para llegar a cuartos de final... qué complicado que es ganar la Copa del Mundo.

After quite a while, the score was still 0–0. Farfadillis had produced the better chances, but the shooting angles Robineau had been getting were less than ideal, and the Drawkian keeper was shining. He stood tall, and the defenders knew how to block low shots unless one was driven perfectly into the corner. Clearly they had put the work in during the week: many of la Vherderoja’s instinctive moves were being read and stopped.

But there is always a way to score first—or so everyone in Farfadillis, north to south, east to west, likes to think. In this case that way ran through Qehu Daj Zhdihi. The skilful winger had one trait that would give him a starring role: he could force situations where mistakes were impossible to avoid. His crosses, specifically, were bizarre—downright poisonous. They often looked as though he was aiming nowhere near the striker, whether for RCU or the national team, yet somehow they were never off-target. Time after time he would fire in a low skidder, a mishit floater, a looping ball that was hard to clear, one that landed right between two defenders, or one that fell into the no-man’s-land claimed by both keeper and back. Normally a competent defender could just hoof a Qehu cross into the stands—but he had to do it every single time. Give Qehu five crosses and sooner or later the defence would slip. So it proved.

Around the 35-minute mark Jáánsêlà sprayed the ball wide for Qehu to take on his marker on the touchline. The youngster shimmied once, twice, even three times; his opponent refused to budge. But Qehu still made just enough room to whip in a vicious cross with his so-called weaker foot—weak in name only.

The ball skimmed low, bouncing nastily. Had it been a shot, it would have been the kind keepers hate because the bounce is unreadable. Robineau ran on, apparently ignoring the ball but staying onside because the left-back tracking right-winger Sürréo had been dragged deep and kept him on. The centre-back tried to clear under pressure—half-mishit—and the ball dropped to the edge of the box. Jáánsêlà met it with a thunderous drive; the keeper parried, spilling it. Robineau reached it with a header from an awful angle—one of those where, if you miss, you get cursed for life, but as a striker you’re paid to miss them less than half the time. Goal, 1–0.

With the deadlock broken and Drawkland’s containment plan wrecked, the Drawkians reverted to their default: attack. The switch was instant, no surprise given the deficit. Within minutes they were level after a major defensive lapse—mostly Hâx’s fault. Ügüs is a talented back, but he’s also an idiot; trying to play out while five hungry hounds are pressing you is VERY OBVIOUSLY A BAD IDEA. Cecilia Benbow nicked the ball on the edge of the box and drilled a low, angled finish. Grujić had no chance, especially given his so-so acrobatics.

Time passed. Minimal stoppage. Second half started with no subs.

Drawkland netted straight from the restart: a high cross from the left, Toni Dillan ghosted in, planted a towering header, and—given his height—there was no contest. Grujić again powerless. Barely three minutes gone and la Vherderoja players were already blaming each other. Yuan yanked Hâx for Türrângel to gain some aerial presence, however pointless it seemed.

In what had been an even match, Drawkland now led—unexpectedly. This was a side with eleven World Cup qualifications but only three round-of-16 exits, no deeper runs, and essentially zero big-game pedigree compared to Farfadillis, whose squad included veterans of multiple semi-finals. Experience night and day. That experience—and the raw quality Farfadillis often has but often fails to impose—would flip the score again.

With impatient patience, Farfadillis began sniffing for the equaliser like a snake. The Kick Corps sat absurdly deep, not realising that in this situation you do not park the bus; you smell blood. Every red shirt on the pitch knew it.

At first Sürréo and Daj Zhdihi lofted high crosses, but they were meat and drink for the giants at the back. Jáánsêlà tried to contest, Baliñas lurked for rebounds. Finally, in the 77th minute, the goal came. Plan changed on the spot: Qehu zipped in another venomous low ball. Chaos inside the box—rebounds everywhere—Robineau lashed a rocket, Reed punched clear almost by reflex, and the ball floated to the penalty spot where Baliñas had been waiting, knowing that if it dropped there he could hit it like a star. Top corner. Unstoppable. 2–2.

Now the blood-scent filled the air. Drawkland, spooked by history, felt doomed; Farfadillis winning had seemed obvious beforehand but was turning into a self-fulfilling prophecy. After surrendering the lead and dithering between chasing the win or gambling on penalties—tactics that clash for a side like Drawkland—while every Farf had the goal in their sights, it was no surprise two more went in before full time.

The third arrived on 83 minutes, six after the equaliser. Sürréo threaded a glorious through ball, Robineau flicked a back-heel, Jáánsêlà blasted into the box at full tilt, left his marker, and smashed the keeper’s left post—no inside-foot curl, just full-instep power. Another unstoppable rocket; the takilante at his best.

So good, in fact, that the fourth landed two minutes later. Jáánsêlà robbed a distracted opponent of the ball—mirror image of Hâx’s earlier blunder—charged goal-ward, almost squared past the keeper, but then left it for the sprinting Qehu Daj Zhdihi to slid in and tap home. A richly deserved goal for the winger in his breakout match. He wouldn’t be named man of the match—his impact had been subtle—but he had been the side’s most important player: his crosses created the opener and the equaliser; from there the win was routine.

Drawkland players folded after the fourth. Not consciously, but their body language screamed it: they knew they were closer to a 7–2 loss than any kind of win. It finished 4–2—a major scare for Farf viewers, but also entirely fair. Farfadillis had imposed themselves, as expected: they always beat Drawkland when the chips are down.

Which is why the next opponent, Ko-oren—a side Farfadillis have never beaten in a big match—was so worrying. Maybe this new generation, perhaps free of the curse, could change history. All that just to reach the quarter-finals… winning the World Cup is hard.

[Squornshelan Remnant States]

RP Cutoff for WC99 Round of 16

Quarterfinals coming up next, this thing is getting serious, but soon there'll only be eight teams left. If you're one of those left behind, don't worry, you can always just dance on your own.

Today's matches are brought to you in part by:

The Syntagma Sporting Equipment Corporation
makers of the Official Ball of World Cup 99: The Syntagma Pro Elite


OOC: Edited from AI-generated image

Syntagma emphasizes quality over quantity. This ethos allowed it to make a name for itself in the crowded Diarcesian sporting goods market. To this end, they are happy to propose an Official Ball of the World Cup 99.

Design: Evokes modernity and sleekness. With the color black as the basis, it is contrasted with neon pink and blue patterns.

Material: Recycled Synthetic Leather

"We Get You, We Get This!"

[Kelssek]

Confederation Day is an important national holiday marking the end of the Revolution and the coming together of the new republics formed from the breakup of the old monarchic empire into the Kelssek Federation. Coming at the height of summer, it is traditionally celebrated with outdoor barbecues, some kind of marching band performance, and loud noises. The federal capital’s regular celebration is held at the mouth of the Suter river, where there is ample green space people can sit on the shoreline and watch. The Federation Bridge, a historic steel truss cantilever structure that has become a city landmark, provides a backdrop. This year the military sailed a frigate up to the park and put on a drone light show, a not entirely subtle way to ask, “what if these guys had guns or bombs on them instead?”

And there was also a newly restored sailing ship, an old warship from the era of cannon. The crowd cheered as it fired a broadside, a blast powerful enough to tilt the entire ship. As people were commenting to each other about how even those old guns were pretty powerful, huh, look at that... the sailing ship continued to tilt. As it reached about a 60-degree sideways angle it started to right itself. And it also started to sink.

The crowd gasped. And then a large piece of metal fell off the Federation Bridge. This was clearly not part of the show. Also something on the bridge seemed to be on fire.

“Did they just... how...”

* * *

“...said preliminary inquiries suggested that the guns on the vessel were aimed too far upwards, and promised there will be a full investigation. Mayor of Neorvins Arlene Ashton said the Federation Bridge is expected to reopen to traffic tomorrow morning after engineers carry out an inspection.

“I do want to reassure the public that the bridge is safe to use right now. It’s got a significant margin of safety in its design, the damage is not serious, it will be repaired over the coming week to restore that full margin, but it is completely safe to use right now. I feel perfectly safe going on it and so should you...”

“And the latest is that three crew members who were injured in the evacuation are expected to make a full recovery. For KBC Radio Neorvins, I’m Haelly Bearns.”

“Thanks Haelly, a reminder to always wear your lifejacket... Turning now to sport, and Kelssek are into the last sixteen of World Cup 99 after a win against HUElavia. Joining us from Brantisvogan is Paeter Bromelie, Paeter, it’s been an up and down tournament for Kelssek so far, what are people saying about how far Kelssek can go there?”

“Utah, this was an important win for an inconsistent Kelssek side against a team that had won every match in its group and had all the form and momentum going for them. The Voyagers didn’t make it easy for themselves, or at least they should’ve made it a lot easier after going 2-0 up on goals from Rémy Niemi in the first half. HUElavia stormed back to score almost from the second half kickoff, before substitute Sammy Mao scored from the penalty spot to make it 3-1 after Chike Obident was felled in the box. It was a scary final 9 minutes after Ronaldo Arruda Barbosa narrowed the lead back to one but Kelssek were able to hang on for the win and to move into the eighth-finals. Here’s captain Kaiden Pépin speaking after the match, asked about how they can overcome their inconsistency.”

"Yeah, we had a great resolve in this match. We can be happy with our performance and look to take that forward. Things that happened, we put that behind us, it’s not in our minds at all.”

"That's the hope at least, going into their next match against Flavovespia, where Kelssek will hope to reach the quarterfinals for the first time in three cycles."

HUELAVIA 2 – Wahle (48’), Barbosa (82’)
KELSSEK 3 – Niemi (9’, 37’), Mao (pen. 78’)
Woodwell, Casiraghi, Vergland, Lalande, Nyhof, Pépin (Licea 83’), Pogbacar, de Landa (Mao 70’), Obident, Moore (Rendon 73’), Niemi (an Deòir 83’)
Radlov Arena, Brantisvogan (attendance 76,369)

[Vdara]

“Markos, disappointing result but you must be pretty happy to get this far?”

“lol.”

“Do you think you’ll take what you’ve learned into WC100?”

“lmao, even”

[Valanora]

The venue for the Round of Thirty-Two for the Marauders was the lovely port town of Istria, a city that could almost feel like home for the Vanorians visiting it, the diversity of the city likely resembling the diversity that is seen in Raynor City or any of the Empire's major port cities. By virtue of winning their group, the Marauders were afforded to stay in Banija and did not have to deal with the headache of traveling to another nation for the start of the knockout portion of the tournament. Additionally the team was afforded a matchup with second lowest ranked team in the Finals in ninety-second ranked Kwrpania, who had advanced as one of the best third placed teams with four points to their name in Group D. An accomplishment to be sure to not only qualify in their first cycle but then to make the knockout rounds, it speaks to what will no doubt be a high ceiling for the team though come the matchday, there can be no admiration and merely the determination to be the better team and win the game. As much celebration as there ought to be for the Kwrpania team in the game, all of that has to be on pause for those two hours from opening kickoff to the final whistle.

Of course for the Marauders, there is only the solitary goal that can realistically satisfy the fans and team alike, to finally get past the hurdle that has been in front of them for over thirty-five editions now and to win their sixth World Cup title. Twice in the last decade the team has made the Final and had the opportunity to secure the sixth title and to break the four way tie at the top of the leader board in the record most World Cup titles. It is a bit sad and a bit controversial that two of those teams have quit participating over that same amount of time, as Starblaydia has quit entering into the competition while Vilita has quit participating following the uncovering of their corruption scandal some years ago. Much and more has been said at length about the Marauders title drought, though the legacy of the team looms large over not just the team itself but over all of the World Cup. Documentaries like The Idiot Project from Audioslavia have shown how the team at their height was simply a tour de force and will likely never have their like ever replicated. Yet despite that, every team that puts on those five star adorn crest shirts has it looming over them, of what was and what they have to live up to.

Ellzidan though, she was not letting this team have that sort of shadow be cast over her or her team, she had the team mentally prepared for the game that was about to kick off. The first day here in Istria she had given the team the day off to go and enjoy the city, to enjoy the beaches and all that Istria had to offer her visitors. After a day of rest and relaxation, the team was back to training and examining the ways that Kwrpania had played during both their qualification campaign as well as during the group stage, looking for ways to gain an advantage against their foes before the tilt began. What was clear was that Kwrpania liked to play a very open and expressive game, she had made comparisons to the likes of Farfadillis and Bettia in the way that their opponents were going to play, the latter only Laborious Hawk was likely to remember as he was there at the time when they and their northern neighbors of Northern Bettia had taken both the World Cup as well as the AOCAF by storm with their System Takil style, documented as the chapter of Ancient and Attacking Arts in the documentary by Starblaydi legend Simeone Di Bradini, for which the U21 World Cup was now named, of his examination of the eras of the World Cup.

Opting to play in their third, emerald green, kit for the match to avoid color clashes with the red and blue second strip of the Kwrpan team who was lining up against them. Eighty thousand fans were roaring as the countdown to kickoff started, in which it was a predominantly pro-Vanorian crowd with even the "neutral" Banijan fans sporting the Marauders colors for the most part. Such was the benefit of playing at a friendly neighbor's stadium for the World Cup and the stadium was rocking at the opening kick began the game. It started much as the way that the Drawkian elf predicted, the Kwrpan team was playing very loose and up for the occasion, using a press with a lot of pace behind it to try and put the Marauders under pressure. Olaf Myrhe was having to fall back into the space between the midfield and defense to provide passing options for the defenders and the wingers were having to come back as well for connective play. Kwrpania got a break in the thirty-seventh minute when a stray pass to Myrhe was not given enough pace behind it, allowing Vabwpetob-zok to intercept the pass and send it forward to Magnws-rym, but Propst stood tall in net and smothered the attempt.

Despite a lot of possession in the first half, the Marauders were not putting much pressure themselves in the Kwrpan backline, with only two touches in the opponents area in the first half, none of the crosses finding either Haaland or Hawk in the box. For a team who was open and on the front foot, they were playing defensively sound in the first forty-five and Ellzidan knew that things needed to change in the second half if the team was get a victory. Julia Strömberg was brought off and Zack Sjöberg was brought on, the younger midfielder looking to inject a bit of guile and pace into the middle of the park for the Marauders. It shifted the needle a bit and the team was starting to string together attacking movements like they had during the qualifiers where they were among the best scoring teams. In the sixty-third minute it would be the substitute sending Hawk through, who played a one-two with Haaland to get behind the defense and buried the shot past Fakswr-rof to open the scoring. There was still nearly half an hour to go though and the team knew they were going to continue to play at a high level if they were to see out the challenge.

Magnws-fen would be brought on for Kwrpania as they now had to go even more on the offensive as they went to a three striker set up, the fullbacks flying forward on the edges of the pitch to spread out and hassle the Marauders wingers and fullbacks. It was working as they were getting opportunities to equalize but Tobias Propst was stopping everything that was thrown on net, have six saves in the second half and eight in total on the game, showcasing the talent and shot stopping ability that has been there since early on in his career. In the eighty-first minute off the back of one of those attempts, the CAP based keeper threw it out quickly to the left for substitute Benjamin Foerster, who drove it forward before sending it to Hawk on the run. The captain took the pass in stride and sent it cross field to Aya Haukås cutting in from the right. She drove at the net and then cut it back to the penalty spot where Haaland collect and deftly put into the far corner for the second goal of the game. It was goal that eased the pressure off the Marauders and seemed to finally take the momentum from the Kwrpan team who failed to get another shot on target before the final whistle was blown.

Into the Round of Sixteen and the team is headed to Herzegovina City for the next match against a team who needs no introduction in Chromatika, a team that the side played numerous times when both were affiliated to the Atlantian Oceania federation and playing in the AOCAF. The two share quite a bit of sporting competition as their teams are playing each other constantly, notably in the IFCF and in the NSCF, where some have informally called it the Polite Rivalry with both nations athletes tending to be very professional and respectful of their opponents. A five goal thriller against Kanzlia has seen the Chromatik team advance to take on the Marauders in one of four Anaia against Arrosia matches, which is all of the remaining teams from Arrosia. It is not that far of trip for the Marauders, Istria being in the Moravica region as is Herzegovina City, which bodes well for an already somewhat rested Marauders team, hoping to use whatever advantage at their fingertips. While Chromatika had been in a bit of slide in the last two World Cups, their form this edition has exceptional. It is set to be a battle of the midfield with both sides having three play centrally and whoever can dominate that battle will like have the edge. Given everything the Marauders are playing for and their lofty goals, coupled with the motivation that has clearly been on display in the Finals, I would give the side the edge as they look to reach the last eight and one step closer to breaking the curse.

[Aleirave]

Everyone Gets Their Chance
StrayaRoos 3-5 Aleirave

The last time the Seagulls found themselves making the first knockout round, an unstoppable force met an immovable object. While Ko-oren's post-football strategies were mostly able to neutralize the explosive Seagull-ball activity, their efforts weren't enough to stop Aleirave's incredible run, which earned them the 2-1 win. This time around, however, the result from Aleirave's match was the sort of thing that would make a Ko-orenite cry.

While Fyodor Veshchik may have needed a long rest after the effort against the Squornshelan Remnant States, this didn't hold the team back as much as one might expect. In fact, his efforts in that match only served to embolden a side which was already showing itself to be in peak offensive form.

---

79th minute
Score: 3-3

"Shit... I don't think I can take much more of this, Neraveke."

Terale Fiasala was the sort of player who spent a long time on the team, but he never got his chance to shine. One of the many drawbacks of being like Aleirave, not using substitutes as often as they ought to, was the fact that many players would make the final cut to get on the roster, but still never see more than a match or two of use. Thanks to Fyodor's inconvenient over-exhaustion, this was one of those very few chances for Terale, but he could feel just how much his best playing days were done.

"Do you need a substitution, or..." his fellow striker replied. "I can ask Haulafo for a--"
"No, I mean I think I need to retire."
"Are you sure about that?" she asked him. "You seem to be doing fine today..."
"I'm just good at covering up how tiring this is. I'm not playing the way I used to, we both know that."

As they had shown in the match against Yuezhou, when it comes time for a player to retire from the Seagulls squad, a big deal must be made of it. For Neraveke, that meant there was only one thing she should do.

"ATTACK PLAN BEACH STYLE! TWO EIGHT HARD PRESS!" This command made things very clear to the rest of the team: the rest of the match was going to be all about pushing as hard as they could to make opportunities for Terale. "Get ready, I hope you have 10 more good minutes left..."

Terale was absolutely not ready for this call to be made. What the heck did she think she was doing, telling the entire team to pass to a player who clearly said he was exhausted and not playing his best? Almost immediately though, a ball ended up coming his way off a pass from Efineha Tesuna'e. The Emus were getting quite disorganized in this late stage of the match, and there was nobody there to stop this ball from getting to Amina Şeyma. While Terale's kick wasn't the most amazing thing in the world, what it was was enough to beat her and break this match wide open.

Fiasala stood in utter disbelief at what he just did. "Congrats, Terale..." Neraveke told him, "you just scored the match-winning goal."

He was very ready to tell her off for what she just said, which was tantamount to jinxing the match. There were still 10 minutes left, anything could happen. You can't just call a match-winning goal and actually expect it to stay a winner, right? And well, Terale was right about one thing: that wasn't the last goal of the match.

In the 88th minute, a cross came in from Renasetevo Nanerikeha, who subbed in for Neraveke in the 85th and wanted to keep supporting her call to give Terale the best last match any Seagull -- except Falena, of course, since there was no topping that one -- could ask for. This time, Terale was slightly more prepared for this ball, since it wasn't coming out of nowhere like the last one... but he still wasn't prepared for what he would do with this ball, as it once again managed to beat Şeyma. All of a sudden, someone who had scored 3 goals across his whole career to that point had now scored two in a match.

"Okay, I'm retiring!" he yelled out. "I'm never topping that one!"

---

And so, Terale's heroics were not only enough to cement him as the player of the match, but possibly enough to make him Aleirave's player of the tournament. While the score looked nothing like it had in WC97's round of 32, one thing didn't change one bit between then and now: Aleirave's next opponents would be the Squornshelan Remnant States, who this time would be hosting the Aleiravan side.

Haulafo's thoughts on the match were quite simple. "We proved in the group stage that yes, we can compete with the Black-and-Reds now. This can be competitive. Against StrayaRoos, we proved that we can clutch up in the knockouts and win incredible matches when they count. All we need to do now is to put that together. I've talked to the team, and they've never been more ready for this. Win or lose, this has been an incredible run... but it's not over. We can do this."

[Siovanija and Teusland]

Time to find out who will reach the quarterfinals! Cutoff in the Banijan section of the Round of 16!

Today's cutoff is brought to you by Air Terranea. Air Terranea was founded more than 40 years ago with the merger of Air Electrum and Ceniana after the Games of the X Olympiad co-hosted by Centralis, Electrum and Nassau Bay, New Gelderland, at which Ceniana served as the official carrier of those Games. Since then, Air Terranea has expanded in both the SAREIMA regions and elsewhere, including Ceniana's former subsidiary Global Wings Air, which operates primarily in the Astyria region. Air Terranea operates a fleet of 750 modern aircraft, with the vast majority comprising of the most advanced planes from Celestar Aerospace based in Kelssek and an additional 30 planes from SAREIMA nation Gloriax.

Will your team have a safe flight into the Quarterfinal, or is turbulence in the forecast?

[Edsmontik]

Edsmontik 2-3 TIkariot
World Cup 99 Round of 16
Full Time - 10:16PM, Tuesday, 12/16/2031, Mavuto Field, Hoima, Ankole, Banija

It was over.
Edsmontik was close, but not quite there. They had a lead and then instantly dropped it once they failed to stop Tikariot's counters three times. Mistakes had been made. With lessons hopefully now being learned, Edsmontik has a few things left to look up to.

Dav der-Ghavy remembered the moments back in the 98th World Cup, where he'd shake hands with teary-eyed managers as he snuck to the semifinls. He remembered his own teary-eyed handshake with both the Crpostrainian and Tanirinthian managers. Now, he was here. For some reason, it felt like a harder hit than when he failed to even grab a medal for his team last World Cup. He knew why: Edsmontik was stronger now. The loss to Tikariot felt like a real bullet and not a foam one.

Standing up, der-Ghavyr looked to his team. Disappointed Edsmons were complaining amongst each other and kicking around paper balls on the floor. Slowly, he gathered his voice.

"Team." he started.

But he stopped there. All eyes were suddenly on him. All red and pained. Their horrible moods were infecting him to the next level. But he pushed, and began his speech.

"We've lost, and it's a hard loss indeed." Dav paused to make sure everyone wouldn't explode into an even worse state. "However, we've done a lot of great things over the course of this World Cup. There is a lot to look up to. Next cycle, we have a milestone. Whether or not we win in that World Cup is all up to us."

der-Ghavyr's voice got louder. "But we can't win if everyone sticks their mind into this loss. The longer we are trapped in memories of this loss, the harder wins will be. Our goals are now set on the future, because what happened today can't be changed."

The sad looks from his team were now changing. He couldn't describe it, but it was different.

"We got it, boss." rose from the twenty something players, who now looked less pained. In the past, sulking on memories of losses tore the Eaglesto shreds. It hindered performances, ruined team spirit, and was hard to escape. If der-Ghavyr's speech worked, his team would learn to overcome their losses and look to the future for wins.

***

Wishing all who remain a great World Cup run!

[Saint Eleanor]

OOC summary of permissions (to be updated Wednesday lunchtime EDT):
- Card was very helpful with providing background about his nation for Episode 33, I've used it extensively, sent him an advance copy, and hope he won't be offended by it.
- There's a paucity of information about Koroa City (at this time), so no Episode 34.
- Ochre likes Episode 35 in principle; I've sent him the entire thing to read after he gets up.
- The Death of Lara Torridge has also been outlined in principle with him and Mert, and Lara's boat has been registered with Lithico™ by agreement of Farf too - I've sent this post to the other two, as well.

So that's the Grand Tour all wrapped up in a nice little bow and I will see you with only my third new RP series in two real-life years for WC100! Just Oneshots from here on out if I make it through to my first-ever quarterfinal (technically actually fourth-ever after BoF76, CoH84 and CoH87)

Group of Six meeting (LXXXII) --- SAINT ELEANOR 3-3 Gnejs (aet; 4-3 pso)
Participants: Gentle Breeze, Reniira Clevinger, Stephen Mitcham ~ Bridget Coombe [C], Cathy Winchester [VC], Graham Lawson [ballot]
Location: not another nice restaurant whose identity I need to clear up with Squorn! oh teh noes!; Chalesm, SRS

Match summary:
Goals: Ohan (9), Coombe (35), Pilchard (75); Hansen (25pen, 55), Ceder (67)
Red cards: none
Yellow cards: Matsuda 25, maybe a few others? sorry, cutoff looms

Penalties (EXT): Coombe O, Pilchard O, Lawson O, Morgan X, Woodward O
Penalties (PUG): Bardo O, Hansson X, Falkmar O, Tistel O, Stålnäve X

Key moments:
* As we so often did, we enjoyed the upper hand in this tie, with Nacle Ohan firing us into an early lead
* (I'll do the rest of this later because cutoff is gonna be on the hour as per Banija, but most of the "key moments" are really just the goals lmao)
* Steve Pilchard suddenly turned up to score his fifth-ever World Cup goal, in his fourth tournament, with a good deal of aplomb and unstoppability
* You can't make the case that we should have won in normal time - all six goals were excellent and nearly unstoppable
* Extra time was a more turgid affair, but one in which both sides had roughly the same amount of chances, were equally tired and yet equally hungry...
* ...but, in the end, we had the advantage on penalties (thank you ever so much, Arielle!) and have secured our place in yet another last-sixteen tie

TAKEAWAY 1: GNEJS WAS AN EXPECTED SCARE... WE BOTH DID OUR NATIONS PROUD, NOW IT'S TIME TO MOVE ON

Tactical discussion
* Aphrilia are a defensive-minded (at last) yet competent team that has swept almost all before them - including our old nemesis, #5 Tanirinthia
* Graham, representing the outsiders as always, expressed his concern about the leakiness of the defence - ten conceded in four finals games, versus twelve across all eighteen qualifiers...
* ...but Gentle Breeze agrees with me that these teams are higher-calibre and therefore more dangerous; in my opinion Aphrilia won't be an exception
* Bianchi is a sea-change from Vermont: more tit-for-tat, more pragmatism, more diversity in attacking, all in the expected 4-4-2 diamond
* With individual high pressing, but a tight and flexible collective line if needs must, the best option is to maintain a creative upper midfield plus a go-getting striker
* Bridget thinks that Felaraneta is a good fit, certainly better than Pilchard, but that we need some bombast and perhaps goalhanging up front so Hart would be our best possible striker
* We know that Forrestal likes to cut inside and be precise, while Rosberg much prefers longer shots - a rightback who can drift in is a MUST, so Barnett is the better choice (by a head)
* The rest of the backline should remain as normal, as we are very confident that we have the skills to deal with them (Cathy certainly agrees!)
* Matsuda is relaxed right now, so we can start him, but Maria Morgan should prepare to be substituted on if he starts losing his head - if you get physical against APH, they'll get physical back
* The best policy for goals is non-aggression: wait for Aphrilia to bait you, don't bait them, let Bridget do her magic on the free-kicks, and always encourage Lawson and Ohan to run out of harm's way

TAKEAWAY 2: APHRILIA ARE QUIET BUT NO LESS CONFIDENT - DON'T RILE THEM UP AND YOU'LL BE FINE - A WIN IS A WIN, AS WE'VE ALREADY SEEN

AGREED LINEUP (4-2-3-1): Richardson - Winchester, Launceston, Vickers, Barnett - Coombe, Matsuda - Lawson, Felaraneta, Ohan - Hart

- Cathy

The Grand Tour of Anaia - Cardenao: A largely-untouched beach paradise that nevertheless has spades of potential

by Lara Torridge - May 5th 2006

Cardenao is, to be sure, a much simpler place. I arrive at New Cardonia, am literally forced to bicycle my way from the airport to the city (before fobbing off the bike to someone in greater long-term need of it than I am), and attend to yet another bureau de change to get my money chaged into marks. Much to my surprise, I find out that one mark is exactly one Eleanorian dollar. "It's too much of a fuss doing anything else," the attendant confides to me

Exchange rate: 275 Burnhamese dollars = 206 marks (1.33333... Burnhamese dollars = 1 Eleanorian dollar = 1 Cardenaoan mark)

The minute I walk out of there, I immediately sight a billboard starring some kind of dinosaur, and ask around to find out what exactly it is. Rumours are abound that Banija is set to import triceratops to Cardenao, much as they have already given the nation the latest branch of their RTC railway empire, and everyone is fervently excited about it. I imagine that, given the South Newlandian experience with elephants, this should most certainly go down a treat in practice, although I do not expect the national team to take up the mantle of "The Dinosaurs" any time soon - not when the Natanians and Nosts exist.

This is far from the only question I have. I spend far too much of the day frolicking about at one of the local beaches, of which Cardenao has plenty. Unlike Saint-Jean-Jacques and Burnham-on-Stove, they are completely free. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said of the far-too-many refreshments that I availed of. The city itself is nice, modern, and not really that remarkable compared to the Eleanorian Dockside - the poverty is a bit too much, the violence is a bit insipid, the prices are a bit too reasonable compared to everywhere else. I have no idea why I would want to compare my destinations to Saint Eleanor now, but there really is not an awful lot to look forward to nowadays.

Day 1: Summary

What I wore: a short-sleeved shirt, hotpants, and a pair of trainers - again
What I spent: 16 marks
What I've got left over: 95 Eleanorian dollars for emergencies; 190 marks

New Cardonia seems interesting enough. As is my wont, the only thing I can do now is go west - by car, of course. It is a good thing that I got a particularly sturdy one, the likes of which Esther Launceston and most farmers should be familiar with; the roads in and out of here, and everywhere else, are basic at best and muddy at worst. Even the roads in the witchy, mountainous part of Mertagne feel like a pleasure compared to these.

Most of the notable buildings, in and of themselves, are in the capital. There are beaches and mountains everywhere, but for a decent portion of the journey, bumpiness and hilliness is the order of the day. It takes some refuelling and some complaining, but I eventually wind up in LeBois, home of one of the best university gridiron teams in Cardenao. It only takes some discussion for me to be roped into watching a Broncos game, barely a few skips and jumps away from everything else; I am left thoroughly entertained, if slightly confused by the rules, for too many hours. Overindulgence seems to be the common theme here.

While having dinner at a local tavern afterwards, I ask my newfound friend how the Eleanorian national team would cope if their players were assigned to gridiron instead. He throws the point out immediately and says that only Bridget Coombe is worthy of playing it, of everyone on the team. We go back and forth for a while, but no minds are changed. I try to drive myself somewhere, anywhere, but not before he takes me back home, gets me an entire bag of shopping, and asks me to survive on that. "There are many more expensive places out there," he advises. How right he was.

Day 2: Summary

What I wore: a Sword and Shield replica top, pleated skirt, and a pair of trainers
What I spent: 10 marks
What I've got left over: 95 Eleanorian dollars for emergencies; 180 marks

For once, I am thankful that I fell asleep at the side of the road; it's not something you could get away with except in the more rural, otherwise-untouched parts of Saint Eleanor, which is one of my favourite things about my homeland. I wake up in the morning. pester the first driver that I see, and am told that I am only around three hours from Alameda. I don't believe him; after some pushing a few dozen miles up the road, I'm told that it isn't on the north side of the mainland as my map says it is, but instead on the really big island facing the Ocean of Ayes.

I decide to push myself a bit and arrive there around lunchtime, where I immediately order a plate of seafood, eat it up, and almost forget to pay. On learning the price, I deliberately forget to pay and ask the guy next to me who's wearing a Jucuacanos Silver Surfers replica top to pay it off. He obliges, but is infuriated at the price. Recklessness is not really the order of the day here, other than that; I try to plan everything out diligently, but am concerned about the cost and general fanciness of even canned soft drinks.

Depending on who you ask, Alameda is either. I find it to be both. I meet one dockworker who points to his house - a disused shipping container that could be moved out at any moment. "I can't afford anything else," he complains to me; "not even a seat at Il Palomino." I go to yet another tavern for a very early dinner, but find it to be no more extortionate than equivalent services on the mainland, although the prices here are reasonable compared to just about anywhere else in the local area.

I ask a couple of people in the local area where I should go next. One person asks me to stay here, as though Academy has a limitless budget rather than one kindly donated to it by the University. Another warns me to stay away from Küsbon, it being grotty, polluted, and generally not the kind of place you'd want to visit as a tourist. Küsbon is industrialising, to be sure, and pretty much everyone in Saint Eleanor has been to a worse place, but I decide to take her advice and travel back to the airport in New Cardonia if only for time's sake.

With all that in mind, I get back there far too late for my own good, although apparently just in time to turn up to Koroa City. I could have gone to the Ochres more directly, but figured as though the de-facto capital of Anaia deserved at least something of a visit first. And while I do absolutely mean to visit Eastern Cardenao one day - but I've been advised, in fairly strong terms, that it is far too dilapidated, hellish, mountainous, and the kind of place that even the locals do not want to live. I tend to think that Eastern Fell back home has a reputation for being so boring, but not even it can compare. Perhaps Eleanorians are boring people in general.

Day 3: Summary

What I wore: the same as last time
What I spent: 28 marks
What I've got left over: 95 Eleanorian dollars for emergencies; 152 marks

---

The Grand Tour of Anaia - Koroa City: The headquarters, where both nothing and everything happens at once

by Lara Torridge - May 8th 2006

(OOC note: This will be written far further into the future than the Cardenao RP, as I've not gotten much engagement on my posts/requests for comment about Koroa City over in the Anaia Discord. If you're in Anaia and you're reading this, please go straight to #ic-discussion and consider leaving your response; I would at least like some such content for this. Assume that Lara withdrew enough money and did enough shenanigans to return to having 500 Eleanorian dollars. In the meanwhile, please enjoy the IC summary of what we know about Koroa City that I posted on said channel about three days ago.)

It being WC94, Koroa City's current claims to fame include:
- being a neutral Anaian site with lots of national showcases; your mileage may vary
- the Ochre booth, by contrast, being literally desolate
- being the site of the Mertagne-Bostopia peace summit. Not like Lara's going to get involved with THAT until the Mertagnians gun her down at some point next week, anyway.
- hosting a few sporting events - the first ice hockey tournament, Group C of BoF79 (Ko gave a run-down of Koroa here), FLAGS sub-events like the yacht race and (presumably temporarily-installed?) Labyrinthine Tesseract, etc
- the vulpes, a currency which - depending on who you ask - is either an aspirational Anaian regional currency or a KC-only currency
- "its liberal... anything policy"
- not a lot being settled other than that? OOCly, per the vote documented [elsewhere on Anaia's Discord], there was a broad consensus in favour of it being an island in the Ayes which hosts national expos, barely has a skeleton administration, probably has all sorts of physical landscapes, and may or may not be anything else

---

The Grand Tour of Anaia - Ochre Islands: Our final destination of the cycle, and what a sight it was indeed

by Lara Torridge - May 13th 2006

Koroa City was nice, advanced, and diverse. Bellflower, the capital of the Ochre Islands, struggles slightly more on all of these counts. Nobody really seems to be sure what the exchange rate between dollars and florins is, for the first time in a long while. Thankfully, the border force seems to be satisfied that 500 Eleanorian dollars plus my well-furnished bank card is enough to let me stay for a few days and escape at the end of it all. It does help that card payment is accepted virtually everywhere, however.

Exchange rate: not really applicable

Mercifully, one thing the capital does have going for it is shops, especially those with flats upstairs whose owners apparently either really mind unwanted noise or don't care in the slightest about it, depending on what shop you're picking on. It is there that I manage to procure for myself a copy of quite possibly the most famous guidebook ever written about this place. Thank you, Jasper. With that in hand - I do need to put this back into my luggage, after all, which takes some searching and then yet another hotel room booking just to avoid much further inconvenience - I decide that what I really need to be doing, as always, is getting out and exploring.

Where better to explore, then, than the much-feted Government Quarter? Probably a lot of places, but as I have pretended to mill across a few corridors of power, I imagine that doing so again here will cause me no harm. There are a few other tourists from other places, but given recent events, not an abundance; they seem happy, if not surprised, to be here. One diplomat is hit up, too, and sufficiently bored with me to immediately walk away to her office. I know that my talking has gone too far when I attempt to say hello to one of the armed police at Lanton Street; he looks strangely at me, even though I mean no harm to Willow of the Finches.

Wandering around aimlessly not knowing what to do is the order of the day beyond that, although the Ochre Islanders are not exactly known for being hyperactive off the sporting fields. Dinner, a good round of fish and chips (although it had to be, given the national reputation for quality and animal welfare) is enjoyed - possibly the first thing I have actually enjoyed on my travels in a few days - and I retire to bed at an uncharacteristically-early 9pm, wondering what in the ever-loving goodness I have even done with my life.

Day 1: Summary

What I wore: a short-sleeved shirt, normal jeans, and a pair of trainers
What I spent: nothing; don't expect me to use cold, hard cash again
What I've got left over: 95 Eleanorian dollars for emergencies; 500 Eleanorian dollars for normal use

Apparently, there is a lot more to do in Bellflower than just stare at tourist attractions. You could, for example, visit the massive sports complex on the coast. There is a decent amount of sports happening over there, but nothing I am interested in; instead, I decide to get whatever the hell is on offer at Krazy Craig's Krytenian Takeaway. My desperate pleas for information about why Krytenia would attach a restaurant to a consulate are rebuffed; maybe I should talk to Megan Harbrough about this one day. I'm still surprised that Torch and Willis don't exist outside Saint Eleanor, although that seems unfair when there isn't an Outbox in Saint Eleanor either.

You can also take the tram system across the metropolitan area, which is much bigger than most people think it is. I decide to go to Palmsville, once famous for its competitive go-karting, but am almost angry to learn that neither much go-karting nor much activity is going on there. I have already had two days on the beach doing nothing; I do not need yet another. I therefore shuffle myself up another couple of kilometers, negotiate with a man who claims to have a boat to lease, and once again promise to hand him back the boat once I've done using it in about two weeks. This promise will be broken, of course.

For the time being, I float away to Bridgdon, which eats up a sizable portion of my day, if one where I really appreciated stopping and staring at everything. I arrive at a reasonable hour at night, have something that is almost but not quite vegan for dinner, try and fail to look at the pretty night lights, and go to sleep in a place that is quite possible even more utilitarian than the one in Bellflower.

Day 2: Summary

What I wore: the same as last time
What I have: 95 Eleanorian dollars for emergencies; 500 Eleanorian dollars for normal use

Bridgdon is well worth having a look around, even if - like most of the rest of the Ochre Islands - sports is its local and national obsession, especially rugby league. (I am pulled aside by yet another local and told to only call it "rugby" in future.) It has never been a particularly touristy place, but as I've never actively tried to visit such places and Saint Eleanor is very much not that kind of city either, I do not mind the working-class attitudes, the well-priced takeaways, or the relatively unique sense of humour. It is only satisfying for a day, however.

With all of that said, I spend most of the afternoon and evening trying to make my way back east of Bridgton, trying to have a look around the various islands, wondering what would happen if the washing machine ate Socks Island, questioning my purpose, thinking about whether this has all gone to waste. I find myself thankful that I have been allowed to visit so many places - but I haven't quite been able to make everywhere. Sometimes for reasons that may not have been quite within my control, yet I have to keep asking myself if I did anything wrong, if I am genuinely bad at this, or if I just have an interesting alternative approach about things. I dock outside Dragon Tree City and go to sleep for a few hours. Only a few, though.

Day 3: Summary

What I wore: the same as last time - I don't have enough time to change
What I have: 95 Eleanorian dollars for emergencies; 500 Eleanorian dollars for normal use

I wake up to find that a couple of the locals are bemused at my presence. Having given it a bit more thought, I resolve to continue on my adventures for the longer-run - there are so many more nations, more continents, more unseen places to visit. I hope I won't be gone too long, but I hope that future generations of Academy's readership are satisfied by it anyway. There are a few final errands I need to run in the Ochre Islands. Returning to Bellflower, which doesn't quite take up the morning with how fast I'm going, is one of them. Catching up on the sports is another: though the Ochres have been eliminated from the World Cup, I do pick up a couple of newspapers from the nearest convenience store to the docks and manage to learn more about rugby league in half an hour than I've done in the rest of my 22 years on land.

Making amends to the boat owner is another. I phone him up, apologise, and let him know that I might need it for much longer. He assures me, for some reason, that he has enough money to afford another boat if this one ever gets lost at sea, or otherwise suffers the same fate as the Huayramarcan car. I genuinely wonder why that is. Talking to people is yet another item on my bucket list, although I've done plenty of that already; one of the ladies reminds me that I'm a bit overdressed, although I doubt that she is joking. Tacky souvenirs are - of course - yet another thing I'd like to do. And some aimless wandering around and in-person window-shopping is never a bad idea!

I went to sleep, yet again, at 10pm that night. I am writing this at 7am, will post this immediately afterwards, and should be back home with you lovely lot next week or so. For all the troubles I have been having, I am genuinely thankful that I am getting good nights' sleeps now. Perhaps this is a sign that my adventures are not entirely doomed; a sign that I would really appreciate a chance to stretch my legs, go on a true holiday where nothing happens, and start making plans for 2006. I hope to keep in touch with all of you over the next few months until then.

Day 4: Summary

What I wore: the same as last time, yet again, for my own same
What I have: 95 Eleanorian dollars for emergencies; 500 Eleanorian dollars for normal use

---

Oneshot: The Death of Lara Torridge

10:22am (Ochre time) - Friday 12th May 2006 (Eleanorian time)

We pick up where Lara left off in her last-ever published work - with her having woken up, gotten back on her boat, and sailing back to Saint Eleanor for a bit of a break and then her next adventure. This would be a great idea if the Ochre Islands, Bostopia and Mertagne had not literally just been embroiled in a massive war that dominated all of the 94th World Cup's qualification cycle and then a bit more. It would be an even better one had the Ochres not been closed off to all and sundry.

Luckily for her, Lithico™ had just come into its own as a fully-blown Farf nation in recent months. Literally any other flag in the world would have gotten it called into question and almost immediately sunk. Thankfully, whichever Ochre Islander owned this boat knew better than to call attention to himself. With all manner of ships registered to all manner of countries for pure arbitrage, he surely thought that Lithico™ would be safe as houses (okay, maybe not the houses in most of Rülândéá) in terms of money, tax, recognisability... you name it.

But then she wouldn't presume anything; she was just happy to be there, if a bit disgruntled at all the opportunities she had missed. Whether the ship was flagged with Lithico™, Aleirave, Drawkland, or Saint Eleanor made little difference to her. She probably wouldn't have noticed either way.

Unluckily for her, the Mertagnian Navy were not exactly keeping constantly up to date with all manner of current affairs. Some incomprehensible parody flag about literal batshit? In black-and-white? That must be a bit close to the line of looking like Bostopia, surely.

A much, much larger, much more obviously Mertagnian boat lurked in the distance. A couple of sailors were on the watchout. And they knew exactly how to use their two-way radios.

"You think that's Bostopia? Looks like it. Can't trust those shapeshifting bastards."

"I think that's Lithico™. Read it in the Neorudo Crier."

"Is this some kind of joke?"

"It's not. I get the papers when I can and that's what I saw on the day. Looks an awful lot like it. Not like we're talking about Chromatika or Zwangzug here."

"Very well, then." Very well, then. It's not like Lithico™ wanted an active presence anywhere outside Farfadillis and maybe a few allied nations. Certainly none of them were fighting this war.

"Does the pilot from Lithico™ wish to identify himself?"

The pilot was not from Lithico™. The only thing about that boat that had anything to do with Lithico™ was where it was registered. It was 2006; Taxhavn wasn't exactly a well-known name in the sporting world back then.

"I SAID, DOES THE PILOT FROM LITHICO™ WISH TO IDENTIFY HIMSELF?"

She did not identify herself. And she was trying to get away, too. For better or for worse. Actually, definitely for better. Staying too long in these waters is going to get you killed.

"WE NEED TO TALK TO THE PILOT FROM LITHICO™. PLEASE TELL US MORE ABOUT YOUR NATION."

She would not. It's not like she was overhearing their conversation, but she felt pretty confident that everyone knew who Tuskoles Yagaras was and what he wanted.

"LOOK, IT IS REALLY IMPORTANT THAT YOU DO THIS. THIS IS A WARZONE. THE OCHRE ISLANDS ARE HOSTILE TO ALL OUTSIDERS. EXPLAIN YOUR PRESENCE OR YOU ARE IN DANGER."

Absolutely not. The area hadn't been a warzone for a few weeks, she thought, for starters. She didn't go on a few days' holiday there for nothing, either. And it's not like she's serving a travel ban. There are a lot of places she hadn't been to. This part of the ocean was one of them.

She was inexperienced. The Mertagnian cruiser was not; it started following the boat from "Lithico™" a bit. They also had their eyes on a slightly larger yacht in the distance, converging, possibly for pleasure, possibly for business. And this time, it was definitely allied with the Ochre Islands.

"THERE IS AN OCHRE BOAT IN YOUR DIRECTION. WE HAVE REASON TO BELIEVE THAT YOU ARE ALLIED."

They were not. Still nothing from Lara's end.

"YOU ARE AT RISK OF ATTACK IF YOU DO NOT EXPLAIN YOURSELF."

Lara could not explain herself. This wasn't that advanced a boat. She wasn't even sure where the radios were. Whether the pilot of the Ochre boat knew or not, they just weren't bothering either way. So somebody had to go.

Two or three minutes passed.

"WE HAVE SEEN NOTHING TO SUGGEST OTHERWISE. YOU ARE LIKELY WORKING FOR THE BOSTOPIANS! PREPARE FOR DESTRUCTION."

The Ochre boat, which was most certainly not working for the Bostopians, was first to go. Swift, sure, and with no loss of life, as whoever was on the boat managed to swim out, duck undercover, avoid the gunners, and so on.

Then there was the boat from Lithico™.

"You still think that's Lithico™? Or the Bostopians?"

"It's definitely a Bostopian. Only they'd refuse to listen to us. You play by the rules, you don't get killed. Okay?"

Lara walked out to see what was happening. And so she got gunned down, almost vicariously. So much for her hopes of making like the locals.

That wasn't quite enough to erase her altogether, though. To be sure, she was dead. But all it would need to took the boat out, sink her luggage, and destroy her identification was one very well-placed missile.

And so the missile annihilated the tiny little boat's engine. Water and fire do not go well together, shall we say?

The afternoon - Wednesday 17th May 2006 (Eleanorian time)

The news of Lara Torridge's death broke on the Sunday. For a while, it dominated all the news. The fourth round of IFCF group stage games barely seemed to matter, even though there were three Eleanorian teams in those. An outpouring of grief, anger, confusion, from just about everyone you can think of and then some.

A tanker traversed the Sea of Champions, just short of Audioslavia, carrying all manner of stuff. Some of it was pedestrian. Some of it was vehicular. A good deal of it was above-board. All of it was in some kind of immalleable container, ready to be shipped off throughout Aurora and echelons and wherever else the people may fancy. And in one of those containers was a baked ham with something barely approaching a handwritten note. I wonder if the Torridge family likes ham-and-blue-cheese pizza. No comment from the Bostopians.

Meanwhile, back on shore, back in Mertagne, a modest argument was ensuing about what had been done by the navy.

"We had a good reason to believe that the Bostopians were commanding it."

"They were not. I am your superior. Unlike you, I actually read the news. It wasn't a Bostopian! It was an Eleanorian! The Eleanorians want nothing to do with wars! The most foreign engagement they have is having a few dozen soldiers in Tumbra."

"Do you have any proof of this?"

"Yes. You didn't buy the Sunday papers, did you?"

"No."

"That's my case closed."

"Another thing. There was probably luggage in the hold."

"Definitely luggage in the hold. Apparently, it's mostly clothing. Is it worth searching for?"

The sailor who was on duty just last week trying to destroy it didn't say anything.

"This isn't a court martial. I care as much as anyone. But we are not trying to get the luggage back."

"It might not all be clothing?"

"All very interesting. I'll have a think."

Some time in October 2006

"Good grief. You're asking us to print out her diploma and transcript again?"

Some time in February 2013

"Hey, Dave. You heard about the Lara Torridge watch?"

"Nah, mate."

"Look at this... I think it's going on auction for ten grand?"

"You'd be lucky to make that in three months."

"Might be worth asking someone on the national team about it."

"Everyone knows someone on the team, eh?"

"Grab the phonebook."

Some time in June 2013

In the end, the watch was scooped up by an agent of Esther Launceston's. Of course. She liked the water and beautiful things and national heritage. She ultimately handed it over to the national museum; even she knew it was almost sacrilegious to do anything else. It's still there.

[Banija]

The final cutoff of the Round of 16 is brought to you by Firefarter



The hottest hot sauce in NS Sport!

The round of 16- sorting the pretenders from the contenders. Where a tournament goes beyond a nice run- where teams start getting visions of trophies dancing in their eyes. Will your run be a nice run- or will a national star be born en route to the Quarterfinals?

[Tikariot]

Chapter 1: Welcome to Sugar Creek
Chapter 2: Cupcake Awakening
Chapter 3: Death by Dessert
Chapter 4: Sugar-Crazed Carnage
Chapter 5: The Sweet Survivors
Chapter 6: The Anti-Cupcake Plan
Chapter 7: Into the Cupcake Nest
Chapter 8: Bake or Die
Chapter 9: Frostbite Frenzy
Chapter 10: The Queen Rises
Chapter 11: Final Recipe
Chapter 12: Bakepocalypse Now
Chapter 13: Sugarfall
Chapter 14: Revenge is a Dish Best Served Frosted

Epilogue: A Whisper of Frosting

One week had passed since the Bakepocalypse.

Sugar Creek, once a sleepy little town known only for its proximity to “absolutely nothing,” now held a sticky place in baking history. News crews had swarmed the area, broadcasting live from sugar-slicked streets. The world gawked at the “Pastry Uprising,” and memes featuring laser-eyed cupcakes now flooded the internet under the tag #FrostingFury.

But now, the cameras were gone. The tourists had taken their novelty “I Survived the Sugar Siege” T-shirts and left. Only the locals remained, slowly rebuilding, scraping dried glaze from shingles and chiseling fondant off mailboxes.

The town, although safe again, wore its scars in shades of pink, white, and caramel brown.

---

The New Sweet Delights

Doug stood in the doorway of the new Sweet Delights, looking over his kingdom of cookies and croissants.

Gone was the enchanted architecture and ancient oven that once fueled his baking dreams. Now it was a modest, humble shop. Reinforced glass. Backup extinguishers. A framed, handwritten sign at the register read:

“Magic-Free Baking Only. Yes, We’re Serious.”

Inside, everything gleamed. The air was warm and buttery, full of safe, comforting smells: chocolate chip, cinnamon, nutmeg. Real ingredients. No eldritch sugar, no haunted icing.

Lucy piped the final swirl onto a tray of “Post-Apocalyptic Peace Pies,” her tongue poking out in concentration. She’d learned a lot over the last week. Measurements now mattered. Recipes were no longer “optional guidelines.” She even wore an apron now—with armored plating stitched in.

Doug stepped up behind her. “You’ve come a long way, you know.”

She gave him a half-smile. “Yeah. I haven’t blown anything up in... five days.”

“That’s a personal best.”

---

The Survivors

Sheriff Bob McGravy sat at the new counter, sipping coffee out of a mug that read “I Shot a Cupcake and All I Got Was This Mug.” His hat was scorched, his jacket permanently crusted with frosting in places he refused to talk about.

Harold Crumble was by the door, his exterminator gear upgraded with cupcake-proof armor plating, a flamethrower attachment, and a spatula holster. He kept staring at the new, perfectly mundane pastry display as if daring it to move.

Even Gwyneth had softened—slightly. She now had her own vegan corner in the shop. Her lemon-avocado oat muffins sat proudly beneath a hand-painted sign: “Cakes Without Carnage.” She’d even permitted a whisper of cane sugar into the glaze. Growth.

Above them all, framed behind glass, hung the last page of the *Dark Arts of Confectionary*. One word remained on the parchment, softly pulsing with residual magic:

Balance.

No one dared take it down. No one wanted to touch it. But somehow, everyone understood—it wasn’t just a warning. It was a reminder. That sweetness could become sickness, and power, if left unchecked, could rise again.

---

A Town Heals... Kind Of

Kids skating through frosting-stained streets, giggling.
Elderly neighbors helping mop roof eaves still dripping with long-set glaze.
Church bells ring out again—this time not muffled by buttercream.
The local Diabetic Support Group gets funding for a new, state-of-the-art wing.
Doug hosts a “Make Your Own Muffin” class—fire extinguisher on hand, just in case.

Life was sticky. But it was life.

And it was good.

---

Behind the Bakery...

Night fell gently on Sugar Creek. The stars blinked overhead like scattered sugar pearls on a black fondant sky.

Behind Sweet Delights, the alley lay quiet. A shattered flowerpot tilted against a recycling bin. A breeze stirred ash and sprinkles in lazy swirls across the concrete.

Then—
A shift.
A twitch.
A crackling, sticky shuffle.

From beneath the pot, something nudged its way out. Something small.

A cupcake.

Perfectly round. Iced with unnaturally pristine white frosting, gleaming under the moonlight. One single crimson raspberry eye blinked open. It shimmered faintly. It watched.

The little cupcake turned slowly, as if sensing the bakery, the laughter within, the peace.

Its mouth opened.

A puff of glittering sugar mist curled into the air.

Then, in a voice no louder than a whisper made of icing:

“…cupcake… revenge…”

The wind carried the words away.

And the cupcake rolled off into the shadows, unseen.

---

The End. (Or is it?)

[Ko-oren]

Alright, alright, Katanmak. No panic. The Round of 32 curse didn't set in, the TJUN-ians couldn't hold on. Then the Farves failed to do what they normally do... he wondered, if two of Ko-oren's eleven total knockout wins had come against Farfadillis, were the Dragonflies now their bogey team? No, focus. The TV still showed images from the pitch. Cheering Dragonflies, a proud-looking Mivune. Pride? No, pure smugness. Katanmak glanced away, he didn't really want to see that right now. That absolute dumbfuck of a Mivune pretending like this is all his doing. Katanmak worried that he might have unlocked something and he - or anyone - was unable to get that back into the container for the time being, that the team found something that worked, something between defence and possession, position and dynamics, that had been the missing element from the team all along. Either way, he was on two minds now. Either the Ko-orenites had to be eliminated from this competition before they could help Mivune to stable employment, or they had to go even further but only as long as everyone knew that this all sprang from his brilliant mind.

He thought about the bracket. Flavovespia up next. Katanmak grinned. There was no way that the team could beat them, after countless losses in the CAFA as well as those bees being first in the rankings. While Ko-oren fell, Flavovespia only developed further to something far, far greater than the Greenblues had ever managed.

Looks like his next move was set. The fork in the road turned out to be a simple, straight road. The Dragonflies weren't going to beat Flavovespia - never did, never will. Now, how to approach Mivune?

It was too early to call him, he would still be on the pitch or be directed to some press event - the TV just cut to commercials. Juvenile sounds filled the room - it was that damned Firefarter ad that had plagued him for the last three weeks. He couldn't think through it. It turned into a sleek Syntagma ad. Thank god.

By now, the national team was back into uncharted territory. The fifth total quarterfinal, the first one since World Cup 94, and no victories in said quarterfinal since World Cup 89. Back in 94? Vacant head coaching position, team ranked 19th, aging starting XI. Now, in 99? Vacant head coaching position, team ranked 19th, aging starting XI. He had some time to chart a course, so Katanmak looked at any connections between that team and the current one. Only Todaka, Laza, Aelea, Entatingun, yCinrhadd, and Archer were part of that squad back then, and only about two of those had a chance of playing in both quarterfinals. Todaka is a starter now, but he was 17 and unproven then. Laza is a fun guy to have around in a pinch, but was as unreliable that day as today. Aelea is 33 and arguably the best pure defender on the team, but also clubless. Entatingun's the best connection between the two squads, starting then and starting now as still, after all those years, the best Ko-orenite on the ball. yCinrhadd has been subbed in every game so far of the 99 campaign, and Archer... well, Archer's the guy who is no longer on the starters following Katanmak's helpful remarks to Mivune.

At the same time, it wasn't like his remarks haven't done anything. The Dragonflies hadn't kept a clean sheet since the first game, 1-0 versus Reçueçn. It wasn't really a comedy of errors or a shooting range on Naaldemaker's side, but the defenders missed marking assignments leading to stupid goals anyway, they just didn't give enough space away for any more goals. Banija did capitalise, Kanzlia scored too late to make it interesting, TJUN-ia had actually been the best bet but fuck me those penalties, and Farfadillis was oddly off after scoring 4 on Drawkland, 3 on HOT-DAMN, maybe returning to their cold streak at the start of the tournament when they had two 1-1s.

Meanwhile, Flavovespia did manage five on Huayramarca. No mercy for the Anaians. That's after three business-like scores in the group stage and a quality takedown of Kelssek in the last game. But they were capable of scoring five.

How much further could he push Mivune? Whatever suggestions he made, he had to make sure that Mivune wouldn't blab to the press if it went awry. It always had to look like he came up with those ideas himself - so he also had to take the blame in case it went wrong. So far so good, because Mivune had spent half the pre-game press conferences talking about his tactical innovation, but Katanmak couldn't risk him ratting to the press or the players.

Maybe it was time to find a likeminded individual on the team.

"Aoremis?"

"Speaking. This Katanmak?"

"Yeah."

"Long time no see. Called us because of how insane we're doing, right?"

"Yeah! Congratulations, guys. Crazy stuff. Watching it from here, we're super impressed."

"Big praise from a big name."

"You got time?"

"Few minutes. We're about to head back to the hotel."

Right. They were still travelling from place to place. They had been in Banija for the group stage and the Round of 32, then moved to Siovanija and Teusland right after to play Farfadillis in Teusland and now Flavovespia in Siovanija. That much travel isn't great for focus.

"Oh right, of course. Hey, I couldn't help but notice how freely you guys play after game one - I'm impressed. How come?"

"Tomoviko said he had a Plan B. Can't say it was the smoothest transition, but it's a miracle on midfield to be fair."

"Are you feeling well in it?"

"You've seen the goals we allowed. For me it's not the easiest."

"Worried that the bees are going to score a couple?"

"Kind of. They can score, we know that."

"Hey, you're allowed to think that. Make sure to tell Tomoviko if you're worried - the team listens to you. You might not always realise it, but with where you've played and what you've done? If it's like any Ko-orenite squad I've ever seen, there's not tons of leaders and the guys that do speak up, tend to know where they're coming from. You're that guy now."

"Thanks. Will keep that in mind. Hey, gotta go."

"Alright, good luck!"

With any luck, that'll be a tiny distraction. Now for the rest of the plan - if he could hear himself think again, with farting noises back on TV as a helpful reminder that that damn Tikariot-made hot sauce exists.

[Audioslavia]

The Olive Branches
Written: January 2023

Back, finally, to the football.

We left Polar Islandstates in the finals of World Cup 56. There, a 1-1-1 record will be enough to see the Terns through on goal difference over qualifying groupmates The Archregimancy. In the knockouts, in two extra-time encounters, the side defeat Jeru FC and Bears Armed to reach the semi-final of the World Cup in only their second cycle. They would only be beaten, eventually, by a Sorthern Northland side who would go on to win the second of their consecutive World Cup titles, and then in the third-placed-playoff by an Aguazul side only a cycle away from being That Aguazul.

Polar Islandstates would make World Cup 57 at a canter. This is a side on a mission to prove their World Cup 56 semi-final appearance was not just a fluke. Here, they run out 5-2 winners over the Sylvanes Queendom, 5-1 victors over Chetkosk, and even the famed Holy Empire can’t stop the Terns running roughshod over them. Polar Islandstates would breeze through to the knockouts.

Now ranked in the top twenty, it’s here that the Polarians will have the opportunity to prove to the rest of the world that this is where they belong.

And who better to prove it against than Valanora.

take your hats off to Lars Hegg Gammel, without whose heroics against Valanora we would not be in the competition still. Against Fresco, Hearts, and Hawk, Gammel pulled off save after save in what could be the game of his life. Let's face it, he'll be able to dine out on that stoppage time save from Hawk's free kick for the rest of his life. On the balance of play, you'd have to say that the Vanorians deserved at least a draw, so the fact that we're through without the drama of extra time or penalty kicks is something we have to thank Gammel for.

Valanora took the lead though Fresco in the twelfth minute, leaving Gammel and Marek flat footed as the shot disected the pair of them, both leaving it for the other. Kirkkegaard was understandably annoyed to have conceded in such a way, ensuring that a clean sheet at the finals would continue to evade us, but Marek and Gammel's communication improved tenfold after that, something that was probably key to our progression. Timo Skye (who else?) was there in the thirty-seventh minute to level things up after picking up van Sorensen's through ball to slot in from close range. The goal was remarkably Skye's ninth goal in world cup finals, and takes him to five for the tournament.

In the second half, the onslaught came from Valanora, but the defence held firm. Our possession stats dropped to 40% and below, a worrying statistic for Kirkkegaard, leading to van Sorensen being replaced by Bielsen to shore things up in midfield. The tactic worked, and Bielsen's tackle was to set van Jendrisen away down the wing on a counter attack, ultimately leading to the corner from which Hansen scored to put us in front.

Valanora pushed hard, forcing Gammel into a string of impressive stops. Sol replaced Ackermann-Finn with Kowalski, playing a 5-3-1-1 formation for the last ten minutes, and it was Kowalski who gave away a free kick on the edge of the box with a minute of stoppage time remaining. Laborious Hawk lined up the shot, but when Gammel tapped the ball away for a corner, the fight seemed to leave the opposition, and the Terns were through.“

:- Polar Islandstates, 2011-11-28

Polaria’s victory over Valanora is narrow, but definite, although it should be repeated that this Vanorian team is still very much not their final form. Polar Islandstates would go on to reach the semi-finals for a second time in two World Cups. Already, in just their third cycle, the Polarians were a force to be reckoned with.

But let it also be understood that, of the two halves of the Ides of March derby, the Polarians are not the first of these teams to reach a major final.

Astograth had played in World Cup 57 alongside Polar Islandstates. Their qualifying run had been nothing short of miraculous. Group-mates Starblaydia had finished first in each of their previous fifteen qualifying groups, but found themselves five points behind Astograth late on in the season. That five point gap came with two asterisks. One, Starblaydia vs Astograth, in Jhanna, was Astograth’s final game. Two, Starblaydia’s game in hand meant they had another fixture after that.

Valrauncion gave Stabrlaydia the lead. Astograth rallied to find a reply.

A pass from Unzueta and Ormache found himself at the edge of the box. Before him, the full Starblaydi back line and possibly the best keeper of all time. He spotted Sarlange down the left, but surely he couldn't beat the keeper. Not from there...they'd need a terrific play to score. Something unexpected. So Ormache lobbed the ball to a spot a few metres in front of his strike partner, praying he would catch on. Mercifully, he did, and nodded the ball towards the penalty spot.

Ormache ran to meet it with his head, and felt time slow down in the split second before he connected. He knew he'd place it where Taniquentar couldn't reach. He knew this was the goal that would send them to the World Cup. In that infinitely brief moment before he struck, silence fell over the entire stadium, as if everyone had suddenly drawn breath. It was impossible, of course, but he felt it.

Images, both memories and conjecture, flashed in his mind all at once, a disjointed mess. The World Cup trophy. The sun over Ituraitz. The penalty he'd missed at the Baptism of Fire. Flares at Atochako Amayara. The dirt pitch he trained on as a youth at Izurria Pirates. The crowds gathered around screens all over Astograth, at home or in a bar or out in the street. The celebrations that would follow that night. His first goal. All the medals, kits and boots he kept in his trophy room. His fractured fibula at age eighteen. A nation paralyzed by expectation as he ran to meet the ball.

:- Astograth 2011-11-12

Starblaydia, rocked, contrived to lose their one remaining game and miss out even on the playoffs.

Astograth couldn’t make it out of the group stage of the World Cup, but were expecting bigger and better things from World Cup 58. They were perhaps a little *too* overconfident.

Which brings us to Cotdelapoms. Those slightly-awkward, weird-talking apple-lovers. No real Astograthian could forget Bernard Ouellette and Louis-Yves Lafayette, their campaigns at Sporting Iturributa and Urbizania Wanderers still remembered by the fans. Or Sacha Chrétien and the fearsome Jackson Diawara, who helped the Astograthians of FKM set the world alight not long ago... but enough with that, for we give no quarter in a World Cup qualifier! Interestingly enough we've never played the apple-lovers, even though we're quite close geographically. Whatever, should be easy enough even if they're eleventh-ranked in the world. Too busy with their hockey to care about us, hopefully.

:- Astograth, 2012-01-22

The Olbidondeka are thoroughly thrashed 7-3 by Cotdelapoms, but this is a humiliation the side resolved to bounce back from. Bounce back they did. Carasatoga were dispatched 8-1, Melbergia 10-1, Ossidiacqua 8-0, and while a chance at retribution against Cotdelapoms was squandered, it didn’t seem to matter. The side put together a record of 13 wins from 16 games, with just one draw, to secure a playoff spot.

Drawn at home for a one-legged playoff against a Chetkosk side that had stumbled into the playoffs after sitting in mid-table all season, Astograth were firm favourites to qualify for the World Cup for the second time.

After all: Not qualifying would be unthinkable from this position. Unprecedented. Not counting teams suspended for ceasing to exist, or from qualifying groups from which no team qualified automatically, no team in history up to World Cup 58 had *ever* failed to qualify from a record of 2.5 Points Per Game.

In front of their own fans, Chetkosk beat them 4-1.

A nightmare. Literally in this case, experienced by Astograthian striker Soter Sarlange.

Soter Sarlange ran into the net, picked up the ball and ran out, with no objections from keeper Anatoli Scherback. Not the first time this had happened, having faced off before in the Primeirona... but this was altogether different. A shot at the World Cup on the line, and he'd just made it 1-3 for Astograth. Twenty-five minutes left to climb a mountain... Sarlange didn't like to believe in miracles, but it would take one to get them out of this one. The Stadii se Draggonnii Arcea, maybe the largest he'd ever played in, was a cauldron of noise and primal feelings.

Say, he'd been running for a while now, and the centre-circle didn't look any closer. Sarlange didn't remember the pitch being this long. He turned around and dropped the ball when he saw himself surrounded by huge, bearded men. One was covered in a cloak, another had hair like fire, yet another bore a horned helmet and an eyepatch... they all saw him cower and they laughed, and Sarlange could do nothing but turn around and start running again, through what now looked like a sea of grass, his teammates nowhere in sight, the crowd mocking him.

While he ran, the giant stadium walls crumbled around him to reveal the deep black sky; ahead loomed a mountain. Or what looked like a mountain, for when it began to cackle Sarlange realised he was looking at the torso of something much larger. A face hid in the black clouds and the World Cup trophy hanged from a necklace... a pair of dice as large as cars fell near Sarlange. More cruel laughter, and a spectral voice that called out "Ones".

The pitch beneath him shattered like glass, and he fell through into darkness, screaming. He fell for what felt like forever, air raid sirens going off all around...

“Are you alright, Soter?”

Sarlange opened his eyes and saw Ormache leaning over him, the yellow glow of the hotel lighting behind him. He groaned, and rubbed his eyes.

:- Astograth 2012-02-15

This isn’t the end of the RP. It goes on to establish that Sarlange and Ormache share a room together when the national team travels. If you think I maybe should have included that bit and not implied they are both in some sort of same-sex relationship, fair enough, but give me some credit. I successfully prevented myself from cutting off the last word from the quote.

Both players are ever-presents in the early days of Astograthian football. The pair came to prominence at Ituraitz FC, the former an obvious candidate for a club favourite. Cocky, egotistical, the sort of striker who would kick a cornerflag into the air when he was frustrated, but also one who had refused to celebrate in front of Starblaydia’s home fans when Astograth’s World Cup 57 qualification had come at the Starblaydi’s expense. Sarlange was bred for success. For strike partner Ormache, the route to the top was less straightforward. As if it wasn’t enough that he grew up to be five foot six, Ormache was often the slowest player on the field. The victim of a vicious leg-break early in his career, Ormache would drop down the divisions with Izurria Pirates and Gortz United before, having regained his form and confidence, breaking back into the Ituraitz team and forming this telepathic partnership with Sarlange. The pair would part ways soon enough, with Sarlange joining Euran talisman Lee Sharp and Polarian powerhouse Alexsandr van Sorensen at CR Submiria, and Ormache winning Divisjon One with SK Franz Josef City. Nevertheless, they retained their partnership for the national team from World Cup 55 through to this, their first attempt at the Cup of Harmony.

They’d reach the final.

After a tense two-all draw, it came to penalties. Both Soter Sarlange and Dei Ormache would step up. Both would score. Their opponents would flounder, and the deciding penalty would fall to Milian Erburu, a veteran of that first Ides of March encounter, playing his final game for the national team.

Bewildered, Milian Erburu stepped up to take the penalty that could give the Cup to Astograth. He'd asked to be on the list, despite being a defender. He was the vice-captain, 34 and would be retiring from international football. He'd barely played this cycle. He needed to feel important again.

In all his career, he'd never taken a penalty. He did not miss.

:- Astograth 2012-02-26

It wouldn’t take long for Polar Islandstates to take home silverware themselves. In the next Copa Rushmori, held in Astograth, Timo Skye would lift the regional championship for the first time. Both sides qualified for World Cups 59 and 60, with Polar Islandstates adding a second Copa Rushmori at the start of cycle 61.

The sides came into the qualifiers ranked in the top twenty. Both would win their group. Finally, after two group stage exits in a row, Astograth would make it to the second round. Polar Islandstates would join them and, after a win apiece, their paths would cross once again.

By this time, Soter Sarlange and Alexsandr van Sorensen were the only survivors of the original Ides of March game at the start of cycle 55.

World Cup 61 - Quarter Final

.                Gammel
        Oyen-Spekke   Urfstadt
    Folke        Hauge         Juul
          Lepke         Vik
             van Sorenson 
        Kvitchenko Elmsvikur
:- Polar Islandstates 2012-07-31

.               Sarlange
Guerrikaechebarria Laquen      Unzueta
            Galeano    Alberro
  Galard      Adin     Bocandé  Uranga
                Larretape

:- Astograth 2012-08-04

And here is where you would put the TIP ending. Music, images, using what little skills and equipment I have at my disposal to link the happenings of the game to the history between the two teams.

In text form, you’re better off just reading the RP

---

A long time ago, when the Audioslavian domestic league was at the height of its popularity, its greatest team, 1830 Cathair, were coming to the end of an era. Faeron Soldarian, Haze van Robben, Fôrté Wínrôuge, Zlatan Natividad and the like were leaving, and cross city rivals Shamrock and Cazadores were growing in strength. Cathair did what they could in the transfer market, but could not have dreamed of replacing all of the departing players with equal or better ones.

What they did instead was a masterstroke. They took a young midfielder, from a new and unfashionable nation, who'd played a bit part in their first season with the club. The club gave him the number 10 shirt and build the entire team around him.

That young player, barely out of his teens, repaid the manager's faith immediately. 1830 Cathair won the double - the league title, and the first ever IFCF Champions League. He would be the absolute lynchpin of the side for the next decade.

Thorsten Kramer, nicknamed TFK in Audioslavia (you'll need to figure out what the 'F' stands for yourselves), is an automatic shoe-in for any hypothetical 'best National League XI'. If we had a domestic football hall of fame, Kramer would be first ballot.

This is why so many attendees of the S&T vs Audioslavia Third Round game have arrived wearing the dark blue and white stripes of 1830 Cathair. KRAMER 10 written on the back. Some of these shirts are official retro shirts of 1830 Cathair, some are from the time, many are knock-offs, in some cases just written in white paint on a dark blue shirt. The wearers are mostly Teus, with some Audioslavian and presumably some Siovanijan too.

There's a buzz around the stadium. These two teams met as recently as last week, on the other side of the Drai, with Siovanija and Teusland comfortably the better side. There's a real sense of belief here that the hosts can reach the quarter-finals.

Yet if the spirit of Thorsten Kramer inspires the Siovanijans and Teus, it also inspires the Audioslavians. The visiting fans of a certain vintage are reminded of him here. The city, Stelburg, is Kramer's home town. The Nationalstadion the home of his national team.

It is, to the surprise of home, away and neutral alike, Audioslavia who start in the ascendency. After a nervy opening, with both sides losing possession easily in midfield, Gael Coorie cuts out a pass and immediately finds Bastarretxea on the left. The winger crosses into nowhere in particular, but Apel's defensive header is too weak and Lúnquerque is able to reach the ball and launch a speculative low strike across goal and into the bottom corner for 0-1.

The home fans are stunned. There's an eerie silence over the stadium for the following ten minutes, replaced gradually by the roar of an expectant crowd willing their side on to equalise. Hackl almost does so, volleying a far-post shot across the face of the goal. Kovarik heads a beautifully placed cross a foot wide with the goalkeeper stranded and, on twenty minutes, Weber has a shot blocked from six yards out by a desperate, diving Goran Yurán. The deflection makes its way to Bocker, who sends Keegan scampering up the right wing. The Bulls rush forward on the counter, and it's the unlikely figure of Gryff Gould receiving the final pass, at the far post, and digging a shot under Kranz at the near post for 0-2.

There's no silence now. A defiant home crowd roar some inspiration into their side as Slovenija and Teusland spend the rest of the first half pushing forward, dragging the Audioslavian defence this way and that. The roar of anguish from Porsche's 44th minute strike smashing off the post and out, with the fast moving ball striking Hackl on the shin and going out for a goal kick, was beaten for sheer volume only by the chaos of the 45th minute. Lúnquerque, reaching an artless long ball first, collapses to the ground on the edge of the area with Schwefel's leg outstretched, poking for the ball. A replay suggests no contact whatsoever, but Schwefel's leg is definitely there for Lúnquerque to fall over. It's a soft penalty, which Lúnquerque converts to put the Bulls into half time with an unfathomable three goal lead. They've doubled their goals tally in just one half, and will go further on seventy two minutes. Another counter-attack, this one even more lethal than the last, with Ronan Buckley firing home from close range to score Audioslavia's fourth goal. It's as many as the Bulls have scored in their last two World Cups combined.

That goal makes it 1-4, with Siovanija and Teusland having scored as early as the third minute of the second half through Weber. This second period is all S&T possession, but breaking down a staunch Audioslavian defence is no small feat even for a vastly superior side. An 80th minute Kovarik strike gives the home fans hope, and a 91st minute hit from Porsche, drilled in from 30 yards, gives the home support something to believe in, but time ultimately runs out for the home fans.

Audioslavia, as bewildered as anyone, are looking at only a fourth World Cup quarter-final appearance since cycle 76.

[Flavovespia]

Comeback Win Keeps Flavovespia Going

A thrilling knockout game sees Flavovespia make a comeback to win 2-1 and eliminate Kelssek. The win sends Flavovespia into the Quarter Finals, continuing on their dream of back to back World Cup wins.

Both sides came out firing on all cylinders, and in the early stages there was a good sense this wouldn’t be a cagey, nervy knockout game. The opening goal would come bang on the quarter hour mark, and it fell to Kelssek. A great cross in found Rémy Niemi, who headed it goalwards. Peter Marriott brilliantly got a hand to the header, but could do nothing as Niemi stretched a leg out to volley in the rebound. Kelssek had the lead, and Flavovespia had a lot more work to do now to stay alive.

Kelssek remained on top in the first half. Flavovespia were stuttering a bit, the attack slightly disjointed, especially on the left, with Charles Adams somewhat stranded in midfield. The defence weren’t doing a lot on the ball, but off the ball they were doing enough to hold off Kelssek, even if there were a few tough moments. For Flavovespia, Jonathan Bagshaw came closest 34 minutes in, another case where a lesser goalkeeper probably doesn’t save his curling shot. As it was, Megan Woodwell was in fine form. 0-1 at the break, Flavovespia 45 minutes from going out and work needed from Victor Adeyemo.

Into the second half, and the words of Victor Adeyemo must have been inspiring. Just 3 minutes in, Christopher Hill played a great through ball to Charles Shepherd. He flicked it onto Peter Langdon, then received a one-two back. He shot hard and high to Megan Woodwell’s right, the shot just stayed under the crossbar and in the net. 1-1, Flavovespia well and truly back in this, setting up a tantalising second half.

The game was even, and there was still a real buzz, with added tension. Flavovespia and Kelssek were back knowing they needed a goal, just one goal, and everyone was fired up. Tackles flew in, mostly firm but fair, and there were some good passes and shots. However, no goals as 50 became 60, then 70, then 80 minutes. The prospect of extra time loomed, as the players tried to pull in whatever energy they had left. Where would another goal come from?

Flavovespia scored 3 minutes into the second half, and 3 minutes before the end of the second half, the winner. Jonathan Bagshaw finally got away from his marker down the right. On the goalline just outside the box, he cut the ball back towards the top of the box. Peter Langdon had the pace to get there, and slotted the ball into the corner, past Woodwell. He did a full knee slide in front of the cameras by the corner flag before being mobbed by his teammates. Flavovespia had the lead, and mere minutes left to hold on, absolute joy for the fans in yellow and black.

Kelssek threw a couple of final attacks forward, but Flavovespia were strong enough to hold on. 2-1 it ended, a fantastic game, and it sees Flavovespia into the Quarter Finals. A fellow Anaia nation Ko-oren are up next, with Flavovespia moving onwards to Stadion Razdrto ‘Vijolicni’ in Borograd, Siovanija. A game that’ll likely be a tense, defensive battle, who can provide the pivotal breakthrough?
Judd Stafford

[Aphrilia]

How Much Further
Amelia Haze and Steven O'Truffet, the main partnership for Aphrilia's defense in the center found themselves alone from everyone else. Cleaning up after training was something of a shared responsibility amongst the team, and it was the two of them plus Ardan McKernell and Mike Aston who were in charge for this time around. The latter two had already done their assigned tasks, and thus had left early. This put the two centerbacks together, taking their part of cleaning up post-training rather slowly.

"Insane, huh. We're in the Quarterfinals of the World Cup." Steven remarked rhetorically, as if to re-affirm that the result against Saint Eleanor was true. He still couldn't believe it at times. "Well, pinch yourself if needs be. But it's true, we're in the Quarters." Amelia responded, as if confirming Steven's still lingering doubts. The Round of 16 match was a performance that even they didn't know how to fully explain. And they weren't even winning at first. The White Stars had take the lead on the 23rd minute thanks to a free kick by Bridget Coombe.

The Eleanorians had clearly been studying how Aphrilia played, with the way they were playing on the field. The Anchors found it difficult to get a good chance on goal, as Ines Forrestal was well covered and Nathaniel Rosberg for the love of his life hadn't discovered an opening. It was... A completely different kind of game compared to the one against Tanirinthia, against two top sides. Teams that were in the multiverse's top ten in rankings for football.

Of course, Bianchi took action, knowing that this team wanted to win.

Sarah O'Winchester out for Aguri Hosokawa, Forrestal out for Theresa Villa, Theo Cooper out for McKernell. Half-time brought on these changes, as Aphrilia had been neutered throughout the first half. And these changes certainly brought back life into the team, and a chance. 53rd minute, Aguri Hosokawa with the ball rushes down the wing with her speed. Plays a massive cross into the box, and Villa was there to head it into the Eleanorian net to tie up the game. Second goal on the 69th, O'Truffet with the long ball towards the center and Jessica Rhine-Faust was the one to receive. Pushing the ball up the field with link up play, Nathaniel Rosberg for the first time throughout the game finds a clear chance to strike it past Arielle Richardson to take the lead. When he scored again, the fans erupted in cheers, not expecting such play.

The third goal was nothing too special. 82nd minute, The Anchors play a corner kick short and the ball finds itself inside the box. But the one striking it in ended up being Edward Elliot, sealing the fate of the game. Once again, this team played out of their minds. But there were certainly other factors. One of them was that Saint Eleanor had a leaky defense in the World Cup, with ten goals conceded in four finals games. There definitely was a lot of credit given to the team for their results however, especially the defense.

Whilst the backline started out rather shaky in the group stage, their performance and form was nothing like any previous tournaments. Whilst O'Truffet and Haze were the team's primary center duo, Andrew Paxton and Kennedy Christonson filled their time on the field with good performances as well. This team was, safe to say, overall in great shape.

Back to Amelia and Steven, the two had finally finished cleaning up the field they had used for training. Well, the tasks they were given were certainly done. As the two looked around the now empty and rather cleaned up field, they ended up giving each other glances. "Speaking of the team... How far do you think we can go? Not will, can." Steven asked Haze. She was essentially one of the "brains" of the team, well, the tactical brain anyway. He wanted to know someone's thoughts on it. Personally, he'll do his best every damn match, no matter what team they face. SRS was by all means a scary opponent, but he wasn't afraid. And he was sure the rest share the same mentality.

"I know what I want, and that's for us to go as far as possible. I don't ask myself those questions, we tackle one game at a time. Thinking ahead is great, but it can also lead you to forget what is currently happening now." Amelia responded, her voice firm to ensure Steven that she would stand on her opinion. "We'll just do what we know best. Play football with our hearts, and brains." She added on. Steven merely nodded as he listened to her answer.

He gave a response to an answer. "Then I'll do exactly that as well."

[Valanora]

The Star Field in Herzegovina City stood at attention for the upcoming Round of Sixteen match about to take place within its walls and upon its field. The stadium is one of the oldest standing in Banija and is one of the few stadiums in the nation to have been used for three World Cup hostings by our neighbors, in many ways the stadium was reflective of the Marauders themselves. Besides Audioslavia, Valanora is one of the last standing members of the footballing community who remain in the tournament, have seen the glory of the hosting of the tournament on many of occasion, and now sit poised once more looking to make history in same form or another. For the Marauders, it was also a short trip from the port city of Istria, coming to the highly religious city that sits in stark contrast to the more metropolitan feel of the city they had just been in. For those back in Valanora, it likely would remind me of Longview, Mar Sara, or the towns and cities around Mount Sumarja, the latter of those being the place where the Goddess Elune was alleged to ascend from being a mortal to godhood while the former two having large religious buildings, including two that were converted into football stadiums in the form of the Donna Cathedral (Club ESF) and Angelotic Temple (FC Longview).

The oldest stadium being used in the oldest city in Banija playing host to the oldest champions of the tournament, with the Marauders having long won their titles before Audioslavia finally shifted their second place status and lifted the trophy and breaking up their runners up curse. Chromatika themselves are by no means a new or recent power, though their scale of legacy and permanency does not have the same magnitude of the likes of the Empire, Audioslavia, or The Holy Empire. Yet there is no denying they are now a long established power in the game, just as the trio of nations that are hosting the event, even if two of them have both taken prolonged absences from the competition. It is the sort of story that seems to write itself, two modern legends of the game meeting in one of the most unique and historic cities of a historically strong footballing power, as if all the stars had aligned to bring these teams and places together. The home host fans would hopefully be witness to a competition between the two sides that would be worth of such portents and legends, though in the end the Marauders hoped to have the upper hand.

Clad in their traditional navy strip, juxtaposed against the white and black kit of the Chromatika side, the Marauders started the game with the opening kick off to the roar of the fans in the stands. Unlike the previous game where the crowd was predominantly a pro-Vanorian crowd, this one was a not as overwhelmingly in favor of the designated home side. Although still carrying the majority of the support in the stands, there was a large Chromatik contingent as well as plenty of locals who had decided to cheer on the Anaian side. Two and a half minutes in though, it was the Navy Wave and the rest of the Marauders supporters who would be roaring in celebration as Hawk made a dashing run that Winkel caught and whipped in a cross from the left that the Myana man headed home with thunderous pace behind it. An early lead was always great to work with and it seemed to push the Marauders even further on, the side winning the battle of possession in the middle. There would be a doubling of the lead in the nineteenth as Hawk put Haaland through and the lethal striker made no mistake with a great opportunity, leaving Hailee Sourtois sprawled out on the floor as he rounded the keeper and doubled the Vanorian advantage.

Chromatika did not earn their place in the knockouts by folding at signs of adversity though and their captain, Lavrentiy Xuen-Zhukov, was trying to get everyone to keep calm and take a breath, that they were not out of it yet. The striker would lead by example as in the twenty-sixth minute, he would claw one back for his side after shaking off an attempted tackle by Florian Beike and slotting one low past Propst, just out of reach of the CAP keeper. It was a display of excellent attacking talent, why many believed the striker is one of the best in the game at the moment, yet at the other end is another player contending for that award. Off a Hawk free kick in the thirty-first minute, Haaland would grab his second as he rose above everyone in the box to head it to the near post and in off the underside of the crossbar to reestablish the two goal lead. Hawk was having a field day, having scored the first and assisted on both of Haaland's goals, it was clear that Chromatika really had no answer for the elf in the middle who was very much up for the game, the Marauders benefiting with a two goal advantage heading into the half time break.

Chromatika had to come out with a sense of urgency to their game in the second half if they were going to get back into the match and they did just that, taking control of the pivotal battle in the middle. Six minutes into the second half, they would find another break through with Baillaire Fillar getting to a loose ball off a deflected shot from Lavrentiy Xuen-Zhukov, catching Propst out of position. The second goal though was a bit of a warning shot for the Marauders, who maybe thought they could coast in the second half and attempt to salt away the game through possession play. Class rises to the top and there are few playing the game with the same amount of class and skill as Laborious Hawk, the captain looking to absolutely put his stamp on the game. A long range effort in the sixty-first hit the post, while a darting run got him behind the defense in the sixty-sixth but Hailee Sourtois managed to push the shot over the cross bar, yet in the seventy-second minute there was no denying Hawk as he got a lovely drop off from Aya Haukås and delivered a shot from his less preferred right side of the box. The shot seemed to catch Sourtois off guard, probably expecting a pass, and it beat her to the near post and put the Marauders back up two. With less than twenty-minutes to play, Chromatika would need a bit of a miracle to comeback from the deficit, especially with as well as the Marauders were playing after the second goal given up.

Though they gave high effort, there was no breaking through Propst for a third time on the day and the Marauders sealed their victory with style, having perhaps their best performance of the Finals thus far. Ellzidan will be hoping that her side is growing in confidence and quality as the tournament is carrying on, usually a sign of a team who has championship aspirations which the Marauders clearly do. She will also hope for that increased performance as the level of competition just got a lot steeper, as the team will be taking on their most difficult side yet in the form of fellow top ten ranked Tikariot. The two sides met in World Cup 97 but one stage further in the Semifinals and the similarities between then and now are quite high with the Marauders having yet to lose a game in the Finals while Tikariot looking to derail the sides' attempt to lift the curse of five. In that meeting in Pasarga, the Marauders would edge out a close encounter three to two to move on to the Final, the same scoreline the Rushmori side just won over fourth ranked Edsmontik, showing they have the quality to take a result if they play well.

Tikariot will play a lot like Kwrpania did, an open and expansive game that likes to be on the attack for as much as possible and they have the capability of scoring as well, having put up three goals both against Edsmontik last round but also against the cohosts Banija in the Round of Sixteen. In both games they allowed two goals past and it presents a challenge for the Marauders as they look to control the middle of the park with their three in the middle that would in theory overwhelm the Tikariot middle of the park. Yet their front three could potentially get the best of the Marauders aging backline if they do have a spell of possession, meaning Olaf Myrhe will once again have to try and cover a lot of distance and help support the backline. Busukuma and the largest footballing stadium in Banija await, the Stadium of the Restoration and its nearly a hundred and two thousand capacity, a ground that has nearly as much history as the Marauders do. Every game brings the team closer and closer to having the opportunity to lift a curse and bring jubilation to the masses of fans of the team in the Empire, while Tikariot might pose the most fiercest of challenges so far, the team looks to only have the experience sharpen them as a whetstone sharpens a blade for the next challenge before them.

[Squornshelan Remnant States]

RP Cutoff for WC99 Quarterfinals

If you're still feeling anxious while reading this cutoff post, it's because you've made it this far. But don't worry about the result, just get out there on that field and raise some hell.

Today's matches are brought to you in part by:

Hyperzicht – Photography and Videography Equipments. See Bigly, Literally - as it is the way of the Valentians.



Established in the 2000s as a small company, we provided limited number of cameras and equipment for the developing Valentine Z in order to document our nation’s progress. Back then, cameras were seen as a niche item and not a necessity as we were a bit busier towards building back our country from the ashes of the old. As a result, it’s seen more as “something to document” rather than “for the masses to enjoy”. At least, that is for that time being, of course. As the Valentians have developed – both technologically and socially – attitudes towards cameras have changed, and it was finally time for us again as a nation to enjoy the passions and wonders of photos and videos.

We believe in the fact that anyone can be a photographer, and that no one should be gatekept based on the equipment that they have, as well as to work with the limitations that they have had. However, technology has evolved and developed for us to a large extent that technological limitations need not be a hindrance to you. There is also such a thing about accessibility of these equipment, because typically, costing thousands of dollars and Valentian Credit should not be the way to go whether you are a hobbyist or a professional, with a lot of other things to boot such as insurance for damage, rental, the whole nine yards. Additionally, we have also showed a little bit of concern towards the other worlds (not your worlds, maybe) towards those whose entire vacation photos are stored with an abundance of filters, and having been shared all over the internet through various social network sites. The quality degrades as it’s passed along, and we once again feel that this should not be the case. The days of DSLR (and even mirrorless cameras) have been numbered for a lot of them, at least in terms of popularity. For Valentine Z, we’ve never strayed away from this, and we believe that Hyperzicht can make the best, affordable, and portable equipment for everyone to enjoy, with a combination of the highest standards of technology, as well as some bits of magic.

With World Cup 99 currently in the works, Hyperzicht is confident that in the case that we have success in getting the sponsorship, your footage will be preserved for years to come, and in utterly high clarity. Gone are the days of trying to zoom in to no avail as you see your favourite football player kicking that goal, or perhaps you are one of those that likes to see what constituted that one red card. We are not going to judge, of course, everyone has their way of saying “Yes, we want to keep those pictures and videos!” Ranging from small personal devices to broadcasting video cameras, we – the employees of Hyperzicht and more importantly as Valentians – will be able to help. If we get the sponsorship, we would like to provide 60 of our Broadcasting Cameras and 60 Slow-motion Cameras for usage at the stadiums, as well as a 20% discount for audience, teams, etc (prices before discounts).

Typically, we only offer one model of each form factor. There were previous versions – which we have allowed people to either keep or to send them to us for total-efficiency recycling (thanks to Phoenix Recycling) – but as it is the rule and our ethics, there is no such thing as planned obsolescence with us. Whatever you have bought from us, you keep it for life with lifetime warranty. We have serviced cameras that are our current flagships, to the ones that have been built and made in 2015, for instance. Technology and Magic may have marched on, but the service towards our customers will always be the same, old or new, hobbyist or professionals. Photography for everyone.

The slight drawback is that these are made with Valentians in mind. For those who are a little bit more normal-sized, please do not hesitate to contact us to get you something made especially for you. Bulk orders accepted.

[Squornshelan Remnant States]

There are some matches that it's just a joy to be a part of. Every first touch is what you meant it to be, all your passes open up new lanes forward, every ball coming your way arrives crisply in your stride, and no matter how determined the opposition are, they just don't seem to be able to hinder you much. You play long enough, and you'll end up on both sides of such matches more than once.

Once place you don't really expect to find that experience is in the knockouts of the World Cup, particularly between two teams that had battled to a draw less than a week earlier.

Expectations aside, it did make sense that the Black-and-Reds would have a stronger showing against the Seagulls this time around. Coming off an excellent performance against Doubeia, the team seemed to have gotten at least some of its form and swagger back, and by all accounts was focused and determined to set the record straight. What no one could have realistically predicted was the absolute parade of goals processing into the Alieravan net throughout the first half.

Those were the talking points from the media pundits post-match as Esti and the team celebrated, out at a bar in the Riverside neighborhood of Jaglan. "Wait, turn the sound up, they're talking about me again." Tarbi was ebullient to say the least, but it was understandable after he'd registered a natural hat trick in the first half. But you couldn't let him get away with a cocky remark like that. Those closest jostled his shoulders. There may have been a bit of beer sloshed and splashed across the table as others gestured emphatically with already occupied hands. Laughter and smiles all around. It was a good night, and it got better.

Through the front door of the trendy bar the better part of the team had found walked a tall woman, broad shouldered, straight blond hair hanging limp just short of her shoulders. She looked to be in her forties, but still carried herself with the bearing of an athlete, and looked ready to shed her fashionable waistcoat and run sprints at the drop of a hat. Flanking her were to other women, also of athletic bearing, though both a bit shorter, one dark haired and keeping possessively close to the first, the other also blond, but with a short crop, the kind of haircut that on a woman, made most men start talking about the virtues of long hair. Assholes.

In any case, two of the three were immediately recognizable to all of the assembled footballers, and the third to most of them. After all, many of them had grown up watching the three of them play. They were none other than Sporting Jaglan and Black-and-Reds icons Lyyti Vang, and Tyra Volam, and Vang's wife, teammate, and naturalized Squornshelan of Brenecian origin Keriwyn Brighton. If their footballing fame wasn't enough, Vang and Brighton had gone on to found the Brighton-Vang foundation, and NGO focused on refugees and other displaced persons in the SRS and elsewhere. The Foundation's mission had put it somewhat at odds with the newly elected government under Democratic Party president Erland Kraft, and Vang had become somewhat notorious in the media for her blunt public statements on the subject.

Suffice to say, her arrival caused something of a stir.

Estina McGill and Rasha Sargsa, nearly always the composed an confident epitomes of elite strikers, sat open mouthed and stunned. Rhiannon Aohdhan, who had watched Vang make her Confederate debut in World Cup 89 at the age of six, blurted out, "What? Lyyti Vang? What are you doing here?" It's worth mentioning that Vang was never the best pure striker in the Black-and-Reds stable, sandwiched between the eras of Galactico Lyzolda Petrov and the one-two punch of Caitrin Ness and Snorre Fridtjofs. Not to say that she wasn't an elite striker who truly earned her caps, but it was her early defection from the Imperium though, and her continual outspokenness on political issues that helped to drive her fame.

"What are you talking about? You're partying in my neighborhood bar and you ask me what I'm doing here?" Vang grinned. "I live here, so does Tyra. We're Jaglan through and through, and honestly hurt you didn't think to invite us when you came to town." She held a half grin half frown for a moment before letting her smile widen. "What a match though. We took in a society after party but it was horribly dull compared with watching you lot out on the field. Well done!" Meanwhile, Volam took a quieter approach, first renewing acquaintance with Sevet-Ibilx Kai, with whom she'd played for several cycles on the national team before moving through the group, touching shoulders, clasping hands, and impressing congratulations. Brighton saw Vang on her way to banter with the strikers with a quick kiss before moving along in Volam's wake.

Would Madeiros have approved, had he known, that his team was out at a bar having drinks bought for them by one of the most famous players in the history of the SRS? Probably not, but he wouldn't find out until the next morning at the earliest, and the night was young.

[Siovanija and Teusland]

Time to cutoff for the Quarterfinal in Banija!

Today's cutoff is proudly presented by Cirrus!

Cirrus are a relatively new team who've revolutionised computing in Ko-oren. If the cloud is just someone else's computer, Cirrus is that computer. Everything from servers to no-code application solutions, bulk storage to heavy workload machines. If you're looking to develop, host, and connect - Cirrus are your one-stop shop. Leverage the cloud to interface with your customers in a frictionless environment, reinvent e-commerce, and make the paradigm yours. Bleeding-edge architectures at your fingertips. Establish virtual e-communities. Innovation.

Who will be on cloud 9 as they head to the semifinal?

[Tikariot]

Chapter 1: Welcome to Sugar Creek
Chapter 2: Cupcake Awakening
Chapter 3: Death by Dessert
Chapter 4: Sugar-Crazed Carnage
Chapter 5: The Sweet Survivors
Chapter 6: The Anti-Cupcake Plan
Chapter 7: Into the Cupcake Nest
Chapter 8: Bake or Die
Chapter 9: Frostbite Frenzy
Chapter 10: The Queen Rises
Chapter 11: Final Recipe
Chapter 12: Bakepocalypse Now
Chapter 13: Sugarfall
Chapter 14: Revenge is a Dish Best Served Frosted
Epilogue: A Whisper of Frosting

The Anti-Cupcake Cake™

“When pastries rise, strike back with something even deadlier.” – The Dark Arts of Confectionary, pg. 666

WARNING: This recipe must only be used in emergency baking combat situations. May cause frosting explosions, cupcake dematerialization, and extreme sugar tremors. Not recommended for standard consumption.

---

Ingredients

2 cups courage flour
(sifted under a full moon, preferably after a near-death pastry encounter)

1 ¾ tsp sodium bicarbonate of doom
(not your everyday baking soda—must be sourced from Crumble’s emergency stash or a haunted pantry)

1 whole fire-roasted dragonfruit
(or a highly spicy mango with anger issues)

3 eggs of defiance
(laid by free-range hens exposed to dangerous ideas)

½ cup sour cream of existential dread
(for emotional depth and tartness)

½ cup evaporated hope
(or full-fat milk gently whispered to until demoralized)

⅓ cup butter of burden
(melted after carrying emotional baggage for 12+ years)

1½ cups sugar glass shards
(caramelized and shattered dramatically for theatrical crunch)

2 tbsp powdered sarcasm
(optional, but adds bite)

1 tbsp vanilla extract of vengeance
(steeped for 13 days in the tears of rejected bakers)

1 pinch quantum salt
(must both exist and not exist until added)

1 full vial of Vita Sweets
(if you have any left, WHY ARE YOU USING IT AGAIN?)

½ cup sprinkles of containment
(enchanted to subdue rogue frosting spirits)

---

FROSTING OF FIRE (handle with extreme caution)

1 cup Fire Frosting concentrate
(stored beneath the Sugar Creek Candy Museum, requires flameproof gloves and sheer willpower)

¼ tsp chili essence of wrath
(extracted from an angry pepper in therapy)

1 stick unstable marshmallow core
(must be partially crystallized and faintly humming)

2 tbsp molten licorice tar
(do not ingest; do not inhale; do not anger)

1 drop lemon balm extract
(for balance, and plausible deniability)

---

Construction Instructions

1. Prepare a 12-inch battle-ready baking pan. Line with reinforced parchment and a thin layer of salted irony.
2. In a bowl carved from regret (or metal), combine flour, sarcasm, and sodium bicarbonate of doom. Whisper your deepest kitchen failures into the mix to activate binding.
3. In a separate bowl, beat the eggs of defiance until they scream. Mix in butter, sour cream, and evaporated hope until the batter has a slightly unstable consistency. Fold in sugar shards slowly to avoid emotional breakdowns.
4. Carefully add the courage flour mixture and stir with the Spoon of Reckoning (or a wooden spoon, blessed by a pastry monk).
5. Add the vanilla of vengeance and sprinkles of containment. Batter should fizz slightly and smell faintly of burnt ambition.
6. Pour into your battle pan and bake at 666°F (352°C) for 25 minutes, or until the surface begins to pulse ominously.

---

FIRE FROSTING INSTRUCTIONS

> Only begin frosting when the cake is completely cool and your affairs are in order.

1. In a magically shielded cauldron, combine Fire Frosting concentrate, chili essence, and marshmallow core. Stir with a spatula made from volcanic glass.
2. Add molten licorice tar carefully. Avoid eye contact. If the frosting growls, give it space.
3. Add lemon balm extract to prevent spontaneous ignition (optional, but highly recommended).
4. Pipe onto cake using reinforced piping bags. Frost in concentric circles of protection—never in zigzags. That invites chaos.

---

To Activate the Anti-Cupcake Effect

Insert a pink birthday candle as a fuse (yes, must be pink).
Whisper the ceremonial words:
“By batter, by flame, by spatula and spoon—end this cupcake’s cursed boon!”
Light the candle and launch the cake into your target using a trebuchet, repurposed oven cannon, or mixer-powered catapult.
Take cover immediately.

---

Final Notes

This cake is NOT for consumption. Unless you’re a frosting-immune revenant with a death wish.
In the event of magical rebound or frosting vortex, contact your local bakery exorcist.
Best served cold… to evil cupcakes.

[Banija]

The final cutoff of the World Cup Quarterfinals is brought to you by Death Templars! Out of Chromatika

Death Templars

Originally established as a Law Firm specializing in personal injury cases, criminal law, and divorce law, Death Templars has since branched out into insurance, accounting, and other professional services including management. Employing more than 13% of the Chromatik population through its various institutions, Death Templars remains one of the core tenets of Chromatik culture. Death Templars are also applying to be a Global World Cup Partner for the World Cup.

(Folks, never let anyone tell you that accountants aren't the cool kids ).

The Quarterfinals! Fe Fi Fo Fum! Three have reached the semifinals- will it be the Squornshelan Remnant States, the top 3 ranked co-hosts, raging on the warpath to not only get a second star, but to cement their legacy as a modern WC dynasty, or will it be Aphrilia- the lovable underdog who is every bookie's nightmare, getting its 3rd top 10 upset in a row- and greatest yet- to reach the semifinal?

Find out, next.

[Flavovespia]

Ko-oren 1–0 Flavovespia

[Audioslavia]

The Final Form
Written: N/A

Astograth’s prizes for overcoming their greatest rivals are bragging rights, which are all important, and a place in the semi-finals.

There, waiting for them, is a Chekhov’s Final Form of Valanora.

Valanora prove too strong for Astograth, win the final 7-1, and duly stake a claim to immortality that cannot reasonably be argued against.

Again, this is more of a music-and-images thing. It’s taken a dozen episodes and almost 30,000 words and the ending is “hey yeah I’ll figure this out when I make it”.

There are a few reasons why this video series never got made, and a lack of ability to carve a proper story out of the long journey from Praying2God to Astograth is one of them. Like, a story story. One you could summarise.

Thus ends the January 2023 attempt at TIP6. The October 2024 version is coming up next cycle.

---

When Ko-oren met Audioslavia in the semi-final of World Cup 89, fans of neither team would have predicted that this would be the last semi either team would play for a decade. Ko-oren had reached the final of World Cup 87, Audioslavia had finished third in World Cup 88, the two teams were at the dawn of a new Anaian era in world football. And then, nothing. Ko-oren, after winning that match and the entire World Cup in cycle 89, went back to gently butting their head against the invisible glass ceiling at the start of the knockouts. Audioslavia, after reaching the second round of World Cup 90, spent almost the entirety of the 90s in the middle of nowhere, either failing to qualify or failing in the first round.

After ten cycles of the Same Old Shit (Ko-oren) or unprecedented incompetence (Audioslavia), that both find themselves in a World Cup semi-final, for only the third time each in the last 20 cycles, is a source of great pride and happiness for fans of both teams. As a result, the atmosphere in the stadium is absolutely electric in the run up to kick off. Tifos abound, some with braggadocio (a reproduction of a photo from cycle 70, with claret-shirted slenderly-built former Audioslavia forward Jody Rijshaart rising far above famously enormous Ko-orenite defender Páll Ólafursson to reach a header. The wide angle view of this shot shows that the 6'7 Olafursson is on his knees, while the 5'7 Rijshaart is leaping, but it's the cropped version - the one that suggests they're both leaping for the ball - that became famous.), some with threats (an image of a buffalo carcasses hanging upside-down from the ceiling of a farmhouse, with 'STEAK IS BACK ON THE MENU' written in all four hundred Ko-orenite languages) and some just bizarre (a single cartoon Haarlem Globetrotter spinning a fish on his finger like a basketball with WANTED: RIJBROEK written in comic sans beneath.)

And when the kick off finally came, a silence fell on the stadium.

Ronan Buckley passed the ball sideways one yard to his left. Kjartan Lúnquerque controlled it, putting his foot on the ball. And waited.

Silently, the crowd watched. Silently, Lúnquerque stood. Silently, the Ko-orenite footballers waited.

Gusts of wind blow in the players' hair. Referees glance at their assistants. In the distance, a commentator can be heard.

"Hoods it! Hoooooolds it! Hoooooooolds it!!"

Neither team moves, but for the goalkeepers pacing their area in a peacockish display of dominance. Occasionally they point at nothing in particular and say 'Aaaa'. If you'd only ever watched football in front of a large crowd, you might be under the illusion that goalkeepers shout instructions at their defenders and offer useful advice for their team. This is not true. Goalkeepers simply point at nothing and go "aaa".

Behind the Ko-orenite goalkeeper, Goswijn Naaldemaker, the floodlights seem to darken slightly. There is one beam of light, illuminating a platform just above and behind the goal. It is a man with long unkempt hair, a Ko-oren away shirt, an electric guitar, and a pedal board that looks like someone mapped out a nuclear reactor that you can operate with your feet.

There is the unmistakeable sound of wet delay and tremolo picking. At the opposite end of the ground, above and behind the goal of Hein Helder, a bald, bearded man with glasses sits behind a drum kit that looks like it's been constructed with the detritus of a destroyed nuclear reactor that you can operate with your feet. He plays. None of his beats seem to line up with what his guitarist is playing. At this distance from one another, with no ear-pieces, the speed of sound makes coherent music impossible. "Good" say the two men. They are not here to make coherent music. This is Audio Versus Ko-oren, the band that appears when Audioslavia play football against Ko-oren. Usually the play a gig near the game, or release an album about the game, or inspired by the game, or to be used as a 90-minute backing music for the game. Here, in the semi-final of World Cup 99, it appears AvK are the game.

The crowd nod their heads, collectively reflecting on the band's music loudly to one another. The phrase 'I prefer their older stuff' somehow comes from every single mouth in the stadium at exactly the same time.

Still Lúnquerque stands with the ball. Still, Ko-oren remain outside the centre circle. Both teams daring one another to begin a game of 'football' if they can't think of anything better to do.

There is a lull in the music, signifying a break between two movements of the same song. Audioslavia use this opportunity to leave the ball in the centre circle and themselves retreat to the edge of it. Gingerly, Hannibal Sawyer approaches the ball, and puts his foot on it.

You'd be forgiven for expecting a whole half of this, but it's at this moment that the Audioslavians change positions. Uriah Malcom, a right-sided centre half, jogs over to the very extreme of the right wing. Bastarretxea does the same to the left wing. Kjartan Lúnquerque starts to sprint forwards, almost towards the ball, but slightly to the left of it. After the striker misses the ball by two feet, he turns 90 degrees to his right, and then 90 degrees again, and sprints back towards the ball. Again, he overshoots it. This time, he slide tackles thin air, gets up, and slide tackles thin air again.

Sawyer looks around, looks at the two fastest players in the team on each wing, on the shoulders of the last defenders, looks at Lúnquerque sprinting around in squares in the centre, and gulps.

"Shit, lads" he says. "They're adopting the tactics of a seven year-old playing Pro Evo"

The band, Audio Versus Ko-oren, launch into an ascending Locrian scale. The crowd click their fingers out of time.

Ko-oren spring into action. Sawyer plays the ball all the way back to Lei yGorllaenea. Audioslavia drift forward, curious about what Ko-oren are about to do. yGorllaenea digs the ball out from under their feet and plays a long, long pass towards Ciriaco Laza. Ko-oren burst forward in what looks like the most Audioslavian counter-attack you've ever seen. A square ball comes in for Nakasarudhen, who has all the time in the world to pick their spot. It's a free shot on goal from just fourteen yards! Instead, the midfielder steps on it and drags the ball back from the attentions of two defenders. They back-heel it to Wullyu, who back-heels it to Sawyer, who back heels it one more time to Conrat Loper, who boots the ball out for a throw-in.

AvK are quiet, now, letting the crowd do the talking. The Ko-orenites are roaring in approval at what they've just seen, while the Audioslavian fans hold their head in their hands. Five back-heel, Jeremy they all seem to say, as one. That's insane.

1-0 down in the shit-house stakes, Audioslavia take the throw in. The ball is thrown to Jean-Marc-Antoine Vidoqc, who immediately turns and smashes the ball as hard as he can to his own corner flag. The ball bounces out for a corner kick.

AvK, at this point, are a good couple minutes into a quiet groove that seems to have appeared between the notes they're playing.

The Audioslavian team all rush to defensive positions, the goalkeeper continuing to point and aaa in various directions. Ko-oren jog forward to take the corner. Theklen Senothonnau beckons Laza towards him, getting ready for a short corner. The Bulls laugh derisively, as does the crowd. A short corner? Oh well, sorry, I didn't realise Lord Royal Ko-orentleroy Of Fapsburg was too fancy to take a real, proper Brexit corner kick. Nobody knew what 'Brexit' meant or was (make your own joke) but they were all certain that to play proper Brexit football, you can't be taking short corners like some long haired prick.

For all other parts of football, Post-Football declared that the teams do something out of the ordinary. For corner kicks, there was very little you could do that fit the description. Shrugging, Senothonnau gestured for Laza to go away, and took a further step backwards. He glanced at the box. Nine Audioslavians, including the goalkeeper, and eight Ko-orenites. Audioslavia are man-marking, as god intended, not zonal marking like some sort of caviar-swilling foppish-haired nonse-prince. Senothonnau wondered whether he should try to cross it directly onto a specific player's head, but decides against it, simply running forward and intending to just send the thing into the mixer.

The sound of the kicked ball is louder and hollower than usual, but the noise is partially blocked out a scream by Hein Helder, who is already on the floor, holding their face, and groaning. The referee blows their whistle immediately. Hannibal Sawyer, who'd been standing next to the keeper, and whose wrist the keeper had grabbed and thrown into his own face, sighed in disgust with himself for falling for the nineteenth oldest trick in the book.

The crowd gasp. The ball bounces harmlessly across the area. Three Ko-orenite players go to the ground holding their jaw, the rest are either shouting at, or pursuing, the Audioslavian players, who are all jogging upfield as nonchalantly as possible.

An action replay confirms what has happened. The Audioslavian goalkeeper makes sure the ref is watching at the exact moment he is 'hit' by the Ko-orenite striker. As such, the referee is completely blind to the fact that, in one movement, every single Audioslavian defender has elbowed the jaw of every single Ko-orenite who had dared to enter the penalty area. The ref figured out what had transpired, helped by his assistants galloping onto the field, shouting and making dramatic elbow-in-the-face gestures with their own elbows, but what could the referee do? He'd already awarded the free kick. He couldn't yellow card all of the Audioslavia team. Not if he wasn't giving a foul against all the players. How would that even work?

All three felled players get up. It's a wonder there are no broken bones or concussions. Hein Helder goes to take the free-kick, turns, and boots it out for another Ko-oren corner.

This time, all eleven Ko-orenites come into the box. The ball is sent in high and reaches Noryu Wullyu, whose heading strength has rather been affected by the bony elbow of Uriah Malcom, and the header goes straight to the keeper's arms.

Audio Versus Ko-oren have figured out a fun little ascending fourths thing with some tribal hand-drumming. The crowd are singing along to the lack of lyrics with whatever comes to mind at the time.

Helder considers launching a counter-attack, but instead holds the ball to their chest for as long as the referee can stand it, dropping it the second the referee puts the whistle to their lips. It's punted upfield, where Nakasarudhen traps it, stands over it, and looks at the referee. The ref shrugs. Nakasarudhen nods at the ref's watch. The ref looks. 39 minutes have been played.

"Yeah, fuck it" says the ref. "That's enough for one half". He blows the whistle for half-time.

At half-time, AvK announce their new album. Within a day of the game, the music, complete with crowd noise, will be available to buy on Vinyl, Cassette and Game Boy Colour cartridge.