Baptism of Fire 45 Rosters/RP/Scores Thread (IC)

[Cascratia]

"FUCKING IDIOT!"

There was a huge bang and smoke covering the entire room halting the Cascratian celebration of going through to the next round.

'What is happening?’ Feelalnee thought as he shield himself from the sudden burst of explosion.

As the fog thinned, there stood a shadow in the middle.

Nianara's smile turns upside down, Cretrix stood on his guards ready for anything thou he was slightly nervous for the first time.

Rokonara took a step back. Horror was written all over his face, "Th-THAT'S!"

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Everyone's jaws droped and eyes bulged out at the scene before them.

A West Angolan terrorist had just jumped out of the fog, clad in his football jersey and his AK-47.

"TEARS OF FUCKIN JOY! 10000 FUCKING LAPS AROUND THE FUCKING CITY!"

"WHAAAAAT!"

"Or else...."

"Oh shit.." Feelalnee muttered.

Everyone shuddered. The West Angolan terrorist cackled madly and starts to shoot around the room as people ran in terror.

[Swalenia]

Today was the last round of group games in the 45th Baptism of Fire. After Swalenia beat Ellison Island 2-1 and topped the group, it was closed to take top spot in Group C. A 75th minute goal from Karlada striker Yurik Obrana levelled the game after John Richards finished a nice move by tapping it in at close range. Swalenia coach Mike Johnson was interviewed by Swalenia Sports 1 after the game:

Swalenia Sports 1: So Mike, you're second in the group, after drawing today with Karlada. What did you think of youre teams performance?

Mike Johnson: Well, as usual there were good and bad. Rich (Gompertz) controlled the game well but we weren't clinical enough, we didn't take enough risks, enough shots. Missing Robbie and having to change to a 5-4-1 has affected our attacking play, but, we didnt lose, so its a good result.

SS1: You were tipped to the post by Wight, who you drew with in match 1, they beat the Ellsion Island today. How do you think they'll do?

MJ: They have size, but thier downfall will be other teams outskilling and out pacing them. They played well today, but Ellison Island never turned up to this tournament, so it was expected.

SS1: Swalenia have certainly been in the goals in this tournament, with 12 in total. How's that affected your team's morale

MJ: Well Ben and John have 3 each, and Robbie had 2, also Rich. Its been a great help to the team, especially against the Greater Aryan Race.

SS1: Now, to the important stuff. In the Round of 16, you play Zona Azul, who appear to be a corporation. They are undefeated. How will you go around beating them?

MJ: Well, Robbie's had physio, and he'll be back, probably. We'll go back to a 4-4-2, with wide men. We'll hit them on the counter with our speed and crossing ability, then lock them out of the game, but still alive on the counter. As much as I love fancy football, that probably won't win us the match. I'm sticking with my strongest XI, with Will in between the sticks. We need a good performance from the back 5 to go through.

SS1:OK, Nice speaking to you, good luck.

MJ: Thanks

[Swalenia]

Carmarthen Morning Post

Swalenia Advance to Round of 16

Swalenia advance to the R16
Kagdazka & Puzjhebu

In the 45th Baptism of Fire, the Swalenian dragons advanced to the the round of 16 in the tournament. The drew today with Karlada, giving them a record of the 3-2-0, and 11 points. Several Carmarthen players are in the squad, namely captain and Keeper, William Turner. He has played every minute for the side, making several key saves.

Swalenia have been battling with Wight, a side with players that eat people. They played out their crunch match in the first round. It was a 2-2 draw. It was a close game, with Swalenia's speed and Skill being cancelled out by Wight's power and strength. Robbie Cook & Richard Gompertz scored the goals.

The next match, Swalenia played Erikkesh, and won 3-0, however the match was overshadowed by a severe injury to star striker Robbie Cook, straining a hamstring. Ben Summers, John Richards and Robbie himself scored.

Then we played the Greater Aryan Race, whom we trounced 4-0. Swalenia played with such grace and guile, it looked like they could go all the way.

The Next day, Swalenia defeated Ellison Island, in a close game. The side the defeated TGAR was gone, replaced by a sheepish (Ha!), meek side who didn't want to attack. This carried on the day after, as they drew 1-1 with Karlada. They came second because of this, and they will now play Zona Azul in the second round.

James Brubell, Football Writer

[Armed Bears]

(Marra Sundaughter) “Hrarroom, Surra. Was that the shabear whom we were promised as a chaplain that I saw you greeting out in the foyer a few moments ago?”

(Surra Rueth’hron) “Ayyuh, that was him: Ghregh TrueMoon's his name, and he's just gone to freshen up after his journey here before meeting the rest of us at dinner. Hwhy? Feel the need for spiritual counsel, do you?”

(Marra Sundaughter) “No, it's just... Look, we were talking a few days ago about how he could work rites of protection before the game if we got drawn against that stinking Undead team, hrright??”

(Surra Rueth’hron) “But we haven't been drawn against them, not yet anyhows, hrright?”

(Marra Sundaughter) “Hrright, but the Yesopalithans have -- for their next match, in fact -- and when we met them on the field they played 'clean' as well as playing well... so... Hwell, maybeso we should ask the Wise One whether he'd be hokay with offering them protection, if they'd be willing to accept it, too?”

(Surra Rueth’hron) “Hr'rmm... Good thought, that, for true: 'No truce with Chaos', and all. Hokay, when His Wisdom comes back down here I'll ask him about that... and I've got a card with a mobile phone number for the Yesopalithan manager somewhere in my bag...”

[Hutt River]

Dimitri Chenkoyra was watching the Yesopalitha-Hutt River game from his private box. Hutt River were 2-1 as the end of the match approached. Suddenly one of his body guards fell down. He was dead. Chenkoyra didn't mind, his bodyguards fell dead all the time. Five minutes later, the other bodyguard fell down. Dead also. Chenkoyra was panicking now, he was without protection.

A Yesopalitha corner swung in. It was cleared by Lyecht. It somehow got to Molina. Molina shot. Goal. While Yesopalitha's fans cheered loudly, a shot was fired from a sniper up on the stadium's roof. Less than 5 seconds later, it was in Chenkoyra. Straight to the heart. A perfect shot.

*

The result flashed up on the screen: Luziyca 1–3 Armed Bears. Jutta turned the TV off

"Well we're out, time to go back." Jutta said

"To Hutt? We can't go back there!" Hoffmann replied

"No, Ernst said we'll stay in Ipeland for the time being. They've lent us some of the facilities they use."

"And we'll stay there until the World Cup"

"Right."

"So this is the end of these things that we are doing?"

"Probably"

Jutta turned the TV back on. A breaking news story popped up about Dimitri Chenkorya. A smile spread across Walter Hoffmann's face.

"These things are far from over my friend, far far from over."

To be continued...

[19th Century Beards]

Beards through to Round of 16
Place sealed after 3-1 against Naboompu

19th Century Beards are through to the Round of 16 (affectionately called the octofinals) after beating Naboompu 3-1. The win moved the beards up to second place, behind Politik who won their place in Matchday 4. We will face Sìgerén, who finished top of Group D, in four days time.

Beards started the first half well with their first goal coming in the 24th minute, Bob Ainsworth doing an overhead kick to open the scoring in spectacular fashion. Naboompu equalized on the 35th minute, No. 10 tapping in from a few metres out. The second half began with the Beards' second goal, Jake Jackson's well struck free kick giving us the lead. Jackson rounded off the goals in stoppage time, tapping in after Ainsworth's shot went off the post.

[West Angola]

Peter Warren stared at the scoreboard in shock. Cascratia was good, he knew that, and this was nothing like Qatar, but 3-0! This was a crushing defeat, both for the nation and for him, and he knew in his heart that he had coached his last football game. Suddenly he felt the cold muzzle of an AK-47 press into his back, and a voice whisper "Ya screwed up bad, Warren." Warren realized that he had been utterly outsmarted, the voice could only belong to one person, the man who'd flubbed easy scoring chances as the rest of the team was utterly outplayed. There was a burst of flame, and then...nothing.

Thomas Nasser lowered the gun as Warren dropped to the ground, then pulled on a ski mask and threw a smoke grenade onto the field. He ran into the smoke and prepared to cause mayhem. August had ordered him, through Danforth, to kill Warren and then light up the city, killing as many members of Parliament as he could in the process, and he intended to do just that...

[Ancharmunn]

The hopes of Ancharmunn's footballers making a meaningful impression on the Baptism of Fire stage suffered a fatal despite a 2-1 victory over Group F whipping boys Stvoto Latoli. Wins elsewhere for both Vettrera and Oliveland however meant that Ancharmunn's total of ten points wouldn't be enough for progression to the knockout stages of the tournament.

Knowing that a win would offer the best chance of overhauling one of the two teams above them in Group F Ancharmunn started brightly putting the Stvoto Latoli goal under immense pressure. But for an inspired performance by the incognito Stvoto Latoli goalkeeper, Yann Quéméner alone could well have had a hat-trick within the opening twenty minutes.

He was left to settle for just the one however after deftly heading home a floated Harriet Waddington cross after neat interplay between the winger and Evan Keogh on the left flank in the seventeenth minutes. Whilst the chances lessened in number somewhat following the goal Ancharmunn continued to control proceedings and added to their lead with a superb long range free-kick from Giovanni Núñez on the stroke of half-time. A goal was just reward for Núñez's contributions throughout a match in which he was a hub of progressive activity for the side.

With news filtering through after the break that both Vettrera and Olivewood were winning their matches, scores which if turned into results would see Ancharmunn knocked out, a lack of purpose about Ancharmunn's game seemed to creep in allowing Stvoto Latoli a route back into the game. After a period of pressure they took advantage of this with a thuderbolt of a shot from their star midfielder eluding goalkeeper Stephen Nightingale in the seventy-third minute.

Following this there was no further significant developments in any of the three group games, leaving the top three sides in the order they were prior to kick-off and thus Ancharmunn on the next flight home.

Manager Paul Andrew pulled no punches in his assessment of his side's performance throughout the tournament. Whilst one might have expected him to claim a side with a double figure number of points going out was unlucky he instead castigated the efforts of his players.

“We've gone out because we weren't good enough, it's simple as that. The quality was there in patches but the effort wasn't there throughout the tournament. We were the third best side in our group and third isn't good enough.”

Some however pointed to more nefarious reasons for Ancharmunn's exit with Ballymairead Dynamos full back Gary Purcell alleging a conspiracy against Ancharmunn, stating, “There was some very dodgy referring in the other two games, and then there were strange people on bikes who kept cycling round our hotel car park. When you add those together and factor in the large number of kumquats sold at the ground prior to the match it's clear that there was a plot against us. Probably orchestrated by some some smelly Oasirican time travelling synchronised swimmers.”

Cumann Sacair an Tearmann have yet to make a statement on whether Purcell's comments reflect an official viewpoint of the governing body of football in Ancharmunn.

[Astograth]

And here is your RP cutoff for the Astograth region playoff!

[Astograth]

Astograth Region: Playoff

Überhölichschleissen 2–0 French Scandinavia

Überhölichschleissen will therefore face Politik in the Round of 16, at Erkolantza Stadium in Erribe.

[Kagdazka and Pazhujebu]

Maintained by the Occult Studies Department

Dr. Zotkin: And now for part three of my interview with Baba Yaga, former manager of the Kagdazka and Pazhujebu national football team.

Baba Yaga: And thank you for coming here to my hut for this interview, Doctor. Shall we have a bite to eat? I could easily throw one of my baked-little-boy quiches in the microwave...

Oh, no thank you.

Are you sure? I have a full battery of lovely and exotic spices at the ready to brighten the flavor. You haven't had child-meat quiche until you've had it with orange peel, coriander, sage, and cumin.

That sounds horrible. I'd rather eat at Taco Palace.

Oh, I could teleport you to a Taco Palace, no problem.

I'm really not hungry, I was just using a turn of phrase. Taco Palace sucks.

Ah, I see? Insulting my food, are you?

O-o-of course not, Babushka! I'm honestly just not hungry.

Very well, let's get to your questions, then, since that quiche is burning a hole in my tongue right now.

Alright then. The next era of... burning a hole in your tongue?... whatever... the next era of World Cup history is referred to by Simeone di Bradini as "Realities and Rivalries" in his non-fiction work Craziness Encouraged. He selected this name in no small part because of the two successive World Cup finals that were contested between Candelaria And Marquez and The Holy Empire, two nations that could not have been more different if one had cocaine snowflakes falling from the sky and the other was simply a robot tooth.

Yes indeed. One, Candelaria And Marquez, was a champion of verisimilitude and "realism." The President of the country notably led her own people to deny the very existence of dwarves, elves, and other supernatural creatures as members of reality, let alone of national football teams. Meanwhile, the other, The Holy Empire, was and remains a surreal place outside the borders of "Ordinary Reality," their term for the multiverse as most understand it. The Holy Empire rests within the Dreamed Realm, a place that cannot be reached no matter how many miles one travels in a plane, train, truck, or car.

And the two clashed in the World Cup 48 final, reprising the matchup of the World Cup 45 final.

That contest in World Cup 45 seemingly was a contest that fell out of its own timeline. Odd, no? But I digress. The Obelisco Monumental in Lasft, Cafundéu was the sight for the historic showdown. In many ways a proxy war for the two forces controlling the universe, one advocating realism, pragmatism, and intellectualism, the other encouraging dreams, surrealism, and imagination, Candelaria And Marquez and The Holy Empire battled it out for the most important trophy on earth. There is a story told within the Dreamed Realm about the match, which I would tell if we had more time.

And the forces of imagination were victorious on the day.

They were. Simeone di Bradini and Juan Tzimisces, two players who Le Lan maintained were simply living descendants of the deceased legends, combined for the contest's only goal. Perhaps Le Lan could have spent less time speculating about the true identities of his opposition's substitutes and more working on his own team sheet, his omission of the great young player Jhanna Young from his starting eleven will go down in history as one of the greatest World Cup final blunders in history. The Holy Empire were crowned champions, an astonishing 47 editions after first participating in a World Cup.

World Cup 1, you mean.

Yes. The Holy Empire participated in the inaugural World Cup, you will recall.

But this was not the final blow in this battle between Candelaria And Marquez and The Holy Empire. The two met again in the World Cup 49 final.

Of course, dear Zotkin! And justice was served for the 'mundies,' as those in the Dreamed Realm refer to those who reside in Ordinary Reality. Newmanistan and The Babbage Islands hosted the 49th edition of the World Cup. At that tournament, both the nations of Cassadaigua and Valanora made it into the quarterfinals. (You must remember this, Doctor, for it will become relevant later.) Of course, neither made it to the final, as the pink-wearing ladies of the former country were dumped out by Sarzonia, who were then put out by the Big Blues themselves, and Valanora fell to the Holy Empire in the semifinal after a tense penalty shootout. The final itself was well won by the Candelariasians after a penalty from Danny Adams made it two-one and national hero Jhanna Young struck for a third late in the second half. There was a strange incident, however, immediately after Young's goal; one that summarized the bizarre conflict of realities in this era... after the Big Blues doubled their lead the Holy Empire's goalkeeper, Mictlantecuhtli, an Aztec god, went ballistic and turned the sky into a cauldron of boiling blood. However, within minutes the event was erased and all was restored to normal.

Oh my. Now, rumor has it Mictlantecuhtli is a friend of yours, Baba Yaga.

He thinks he's a friend of mine. I think he's a bit of a dick.

In any case, Young's goal stood, and she is still remembered, along with Diamontii di Bradini, as one of the great pioneers for women in football, and World Cup 50 was a landmark event in that aspect. The fiftieth edition of the world's greatest game proved to be one where we saw great changes sweep across the world of sport once again. Cassadaigua, a team of all women, would shockingly win the Cup from out of nowhere, bringing great acclaim to their region of One Big Island. And recall the Candelariasians? Their region, Rushmore, would soon grow, in no small part because of their footballing successes, and over time produce more and more new countries involved in world sport.

Yes. Ad'ihan dumped out both the Holy Empire and Ad'ihan in the knockouts before the women in pink dumped them out, setting up another bizarre final... Cassadaigua versus Jeru FC, a team of drunken army slobs who had made it to the gold-medal-match after having slogged through three consecutive matches that went to extra time. Cassadaigua would emerge victorious three goals to nil.

The bigger shock, however, was Cassadaigua's second World Cup championship in Paripana and Septentrionia.

Most say so. Captained by the then-34-year-old star Meaghan Bateman, the Cassadagans swept aside some very tough opposition on their way to the World Cup 51 title match. In the round of sixteen, they beat Vephrall four goals to three. In the quarterfinal, they clipped the wings of Candelaria And Marquez and won two one. And they clobbered Nethertopia three nil in the semifinal. But no tougher opposition than Valanora awaited them in the final. A dominant force for an era, the elves deserved to be favorites to brush aside the defending champions. But they couldn't. Pink, as Simeone di Bradini writes, had become the color of victory in this era.

Faeron Soldarian, the great Vanorian player, wrote a poem during the tournament. The poem seems to indirectly reference the collapse of the Valanora/Starblaydia duopoly at the hands of new nations like Cassadaigua. Prophetically enough, it was published before the final in which they lost to the Dagans one goal to two.

I remember. Hannah Barton scored the opener in the 17th minute, and Jessica Schanke tapped in the winner in the 85th after Valanora had equalized.

Well, we'll leave it at that. The days of all-female teams winning World Cup trophies were hardly over, but we can't spoil anything for anyone.

Spoilage is bad. Which reminds me, do you smell that? I think I need a new freezer.

Please, don't tell me what's in there.

Appendices; I'll say it right now.

OOC: RP CUTOFF FOR K&P PLAYOFF!

[Kagdazka and Pazhujebu]

Play-In Game Score, Kagdazka and Pazhujebu Bracket

Sjovenia 1–0 Elmonia

Sjovenia will therefore face Azrael in the Round of Sixteen.

[Baleyaroh]

And so, the Baleyaroh's national team has arrived to the Grand Duchy of Astograth ready to do their best in their first international competition. Coach En Joanot (Cx11085696i) firsts words upon arrival, answering to the reporters first questions, were:

"The tournament started WHEN!!!???"

[Wight]

.

[Oasirica (Ancient)]

The Ossidiacquan Museum of The Pause Time
Cultural Wing

Cabinet One
Cabinet Two
Cabinet Three
Cabinet Four
Cabinet Five


Cabinet Six


Stefano
Dearest Sister,

We have arrived in Astograth. The sailing was long, and dull. There was nothing to do but think of home. Della Rocca has little motivation to ask us to do training anymore, and Jeferson just sits there, like the rest of us.

Admittedly, if you had been here to see our last match, you would have agreed that training is something we barely need. I think the sense of anger and of frustration was as high as it had ever been for those ninety minutes, and we played impressively as a team, beating Überhölichschleissen 5-0. Encouragingly, this meant we progressed to the knockout stages here in Astograth, where at least it is warmer than it is in Kagdazka.

We scored first in the first five minutes of the match, as Nuno showed off his skills, and passed through for Sebastian to run on to. Sebastian is as fleet-footed as they come, and his abilities soon brought him clean through on goal, where he almost passed the ball into the goal, and yet well beyond the reach of the goalkeeper from Überhölichschleissen, who I believe was called Tillens. Such is the accuracy of Sebastian's eye that he can afford to not hit the balls with power.

In the second half, Benjamin scored with a header, after which I had a shower in fury that hit the post, bouncing back into the path of Nuno, who finished the job I started. The score was 3-0 by this point, and the fight was beginning to leave Überhölichschleissen, visibly. This seemed to tile us even further. Why should they decide when they can give up? We have had a terrible situation forced upon us, and yet we keep going. We keep going in spite of everything that is happening. The time wall going up may have broken our hearts, but we have the best motivation in the world to carry on, and if we have to we will fly the flag for Oasirica long after the nation has ceased to be, entombed in its time wall. So why should these Überhölichschleissen players decide that they wish to not try as hard anymore? Have they no pride?

We doubled our efforts, and scored twice more in the ten minutes between the opposition giving up and the conclusion of the match. First, I scored a goal to make up for hitting the post earlier, and then Benjamin crossed the ball for Vitor to score his first of the tournament.

We qualified top of our group, without conceding a single goal, and didn't have to play a playoff match as a result. This gave us a week to think and ponder about life at home. Is Sant'Elia still standing dear sister? Will I ever see its towers again? The desperation overtakes me if I consider it for too long, I am ashamed to say, and though the team have yet to see me, I spend many an hour sobbing in my dormitory.

We play Cascratia next. Wight or Yesopilatha await the victors. Sìgerén and Politik are also in this half of the draw as well, dear sister, so our path to the final is going to be a tough one. But we have to get there. We simply have to win this. There is no other option. For Oasirica.

Whatever remains of it.

I remain as ever,
your Stefano



Esmeralda
Dearest Brother,

We have left the city. The disturbances were getting worse and worse, and la Plaga seems to have closed its steely hands around the suburbs. It has been two years since the time wall went up, and Papa cracked. So as the house fires started at the bottom of our avenue, we packed our bags and left. Without Grandmama.

Stubborn as ever, she has remained clear that she will never leave the house, and so it pains me to say it dear brother, but we left her behind. With a backwards glance over my shoulder as we set off for the massed throngs outside the monorail offices, I saw her. Silhouetted in the doorway, her great ermine scarf as recognisable as it ever was, as she appeared to be stroking the wood softly, as if the house were a sibling, or a great and trusted friend. It was like it was something she had to do, and suffer the consequences for. You two are so very alike in many ways, dear brother.

I feel so terribly guilty, but we could not stay. How she will look after herself, I do not know, but do you remember Julian de Rossi? Our neighbour from down the avenue, he is part lame these days and will also be staying behind, and he has promised to check in and make sure she is okay. They both need each other, I fear, as Sant'Elia collapses around them, all order lost. Government hasn't met for two months, and even the gangs that used to rule the streets a few months ago have seen their number decimated by la Plaga. Sant'Elia is no longer the city you could recognise.

Papa and I have come as far as Calizzano, and stopped for now. The town is already suffering from the effects of the disease, and the Djocorangan orderlies are struggling. All over the country apothecaries are shutting up shop simply because they have no drugs left to sell. People are desperate enough to be buying anything and everything they can find from anyone in the medical profession, many of whom themselves are suffering and dying out.

Even the Djocorangans do not know how to help. This diesease not affect them, neither here nor back in Djocoranga, so even they have no ancient herbal methods to call upon. And even of the more learned members of the refugees that have come across, our medical system is alien to them, as I'm sure theirs must be to us. The difference in culture is just too big for them to be able to stop it.They are helping, Elia knows they are to be commended for how much they are willing to help, but they are no more capable of finding the solution to all this than the scientists and techgineers back in Sant'Elia. The Acadêmizzona is almost deserted, and l'Hopital Centro was closed when we left the city. I fear we will be left to ruin behind this time wall.

There is news with the travelling masses that Pico de Vincenze has fallen to la Plaga as well. If this is true then there is not a single untouched corner of the nation now, and that spells disaster for us Oasiricans. There are rumours that a few have recovered from the affliction up in San Marco, but this may just be hear say, and the thought on everybody's mind is that this nation may eventually be left just for the Djocorangans - nay, Oasiricans. I don't think there should be any doubt as to their adopted citizenship now. Not after all they have done.

The weather remains erratic, dear brother. It has not rained for three months now, not since the floods of last winter after which there was a terrible bloom of la Plaga diagnoses. I think the insect carrying it must be a fan of water, which in our land of channels, canals, and aqueducts, is no good news.

We shall continue eastwards to more rural areas, says Papa. The villages and towns are more spread out over there, and Papa think we can live in the hills and become self-sufficient. The volcano has become active again, spewing jet black smoke into the air, and it colours the sky like ink, a sign for us to follow and walk towards. Papa says that will make the land there arable, and rich for farming, so we should head there to escpae the collapse of society. It is his dream, and I dare not speak out in opposition or scepticism as it seems to be the only thing that is keeping him going. I hear him coughing at night, though he tries to hide it. And dear, dear Stefano, I confess that I have a cough as well.

Pray for us, Stefano, we are thinking of you.

I remain as always,
your loving sister,
Esmeralda

[Armed Bears]

(OOC: Yesopalithan participation confirmed by TG.)

___________________________________________________________________________


The place is a football ground in Pazhujeb, one that the Bear-Belles have been using for practice while they’re in this country.
The time is a little while after nightfall, on the evening before the Yesopalithan football team’s flight from that land to Astograth for this competition’s ‘Round of Sixteen’.
The sky is clear, and the full moon is — auspiciously, as the Bears reckon such matters — shining down brightly enough to illuminate the proceedings quite well.
Most of the Bear-Belles and their team’s staff are seated in the lower levels of one of the southern stands, next to the players’ tunnel, as are some of their supporters.
Four circular slabs of stone — each of a different type — have been placed at the cardinal points (west, north, east, and south) on the perimeter of the pitch’s centre circle, and upon each of these slabs there rests what the seated onlookers can see only as a small heap of material but know from experience of previous rituals is actually a fire waiting to be lit.
The shabear Ghregh TrueMoon stands at the centre of that circle, facing the mouth of the tunnel. He is a male Ursine of mature years, with silvery-gray fur, and is clad in a loose robe of green cloth onto which patches depicting stylised versions of various animals, trees and other symbols have been fastened. A silver crescent-moon pendant hangs around his neck, over the robe, and a strap that passes over his left shoulder supports a small drum that hangs next to his right hip. He is barefoot.
To either side of him, just outside the circle, a pair of young-adult Ursines — one male and the other female, both of them wearing unadorned robes in the same shade of green as his — are standing. These are his acolytes, who will assist in the ritual.
Behind the circle from the viewpoint of the seated Bears a trio of fairly large drums have been placed on the ground, and a further three Ursines are standing behind these. They are Marra SunDaughter, the team’s captain, and two of the supporters (one male, the other female). Unlike the shabear and his acolytes, the members of this trio are ‘skyclad’ (i.e. nude).

The shabear brings his right hand down sharply to strike the drum that he is carrying, and at this signal the three drummers standing behind him begin to beat out a steady rhythm in unison.
Boom! Barroom! Boom! Barroom! Boom! Barroom! Boom! Barroom!
Boom! Barroom! Boom! Barroom! Boom! Barroom! Boom! Barroom!

The Belles’ manager Surra Rueth’hron walks out of the tunnel, leading a procession that contains all of the Yesopalithan antional team's footballers — dressed in playing kit — and staff. They advance most of the way towards the centre circle and then halt in an approximately crescent-shaped formation looking to the shabear. He strikes his own drum once more, and as the other drummers cease their work for now he turns his face up to the sky and begins to speak.

“Oh Moon, you whom the Great Bear set as a beacon to guide our way in the darkness, these people who stand here before me under your gaze go forth on the morrow to strive against the forces of Chaos. May your light cleanse them of any spiritual ills that they might bear, so that they can put all of their souls into that effort.”

They stand in silence for a moment, during which some people might think they saw the level of moonlight within the ground intensify by a bit, and then he lowers his gaze to look directly at the Yesopalithans whom he then addresses:

“You who intend to oppose Chaos, will you accept the blessings of the Seven Holy Helpers and of other good spirits if they choose to grant you that benison?”

“We will, if They will” replied the Yesopalithans, responding as they had been coached to do.

Ghregh strikes his drum again, and at this signal the other three drummers strike up a livelier beat than the one they had previously played. He and his acolytes then sing, in an archaic dialect of Ursine, a hymn to the Great Bear (OOC: which I’m not going to try and translate, or write down here, because it’s too sacred…): The seated Bears, most of whom probably can’t understand all of those ancient words themselves, join in on the line that is repeated to start each of the four verses and on the chorus, and clap once (all together) at the end of each other line. When the song has been completed the three drummers sound, once again, the same solemn beat that had been their first contribution to these events.
Boom! Barroom! Boom! Barroom! Boom! Barroom! Boom! Barroom!

The acolytes both walk right around the outside of the circle, sunwise’ (i.e. clockwise), and then go around it once more but this time with each of them using a pair of flints to light two of the waiting fires: West and east for the female, north and south for the male. The flames quickly rise to shoulder height, despite the relatively small sizes of the actual fires, but at this stage without any smoke. The shabear turns his face back to the heavens, and speaks in prayer:

“Seven Holy Helpers, you whom the Great Bear instructed to guide us and to help defend us against the Un-natural, I — as a shabear of the Great Medicine Society, a member born in the Silver-of-Night Clan, the shabear Ghregh TrueMoon myself — invoke your attention here and request your aid on behalf of these people who are assembled standing before us this evening. They voyage tomorrow to strive against Chaos-tainted opponents on the field of football, and sincerely seek your protection in this endeavour.”

“Little Bear, first of the Holy Helpers, we pray that you will grant these people your blessing so that they may hold true to their inner natures and reject the temptations of Chaos, so that they may benefit from the favour of yoru companions as though they were Bears.
“Pig, first companion of Little Bear, we pray that you will grant these people your blessing so that they may remain in good fellowship with each other and not let the disruptive influence of Chaos sunder their team spirit.
“Donkey, we pray that you will grant these people your blessing so that they may remain persistent in the face of adversity.
“Owl, we pray that you will grant these people your blessing so that they may have the wisdom to see through the trickeries and distractions that the forces of Chaos might wield.
“Rabbit, we pray that you will grant these people your blessing so that they may be fit enough to triumph even against the unnatural vigour that the forces of Chaos might possess.
“Tiger, we pray that you will grant these people your blessing so that they will remain brave when confronted by the horrors of Chaos, and may stand firm despite how their opponents might look, sound or smell.
“The Strangers, we pray that you will grant these people your blessing so that although they themselves will be strangers in the country where they will strive against Chaos they will be as potent in all ways necessary there as they would be within their own homeland.”
(As he invokes each of the Seven by name anybody present who has any degree of sensitivity whatever to the occult will sense them partially manifesting, as an aura around him: ‘The Strangers’ , the only one whose form isn’t obvious from their name, appear as a mother & child pair of Kangaroos….)
“So may it be, if this pleases you, oh Honoured Ones.”
“Aiaiaiaiaiaiaiaiaiaiaiaiaiaiaiaiiiii…”

After that last wordless ululation he stands still, while his acolytes walk around the fire again and add some more material to each of the fires. The flames decrease in height, but now smoke rises: Smoke bearing the sweet smell of various blended herbs burning together. A beat of his drum, and the other three drummers return to their solemn rhythm.
Boom! Barroom! Boom! Barroom! Boom! Barroom! Boom! Barroom!
The male acolyte then walks into the circle, carrying two small trays, and takes up a position at the shabear’s left. The female acolyte walks over to the Yesopalithans, and leads them around towards the western side of the circle. As rehearsed, they then follow her around it ‘sunwise’ for eight complete circlings (once for the Great Bear, and once for each of the Seven Holy Helpers), spiralling inwards as they go until she leads the head of their procession into the circle. She takes a tray from the male acolyte, and stands at the shabear’s right. Then, as the first of the Yesopalithans slowly walks up to this trio, the male acolyte lifts a pair of silver scissors from his tray. He snips a small tuft of fur from the shabear’s left arm and a small tuft of hair from the Yesopalithan’s head, and passes both of these (together) to Ghregh while the female acolyte lifts a small bag of cloth with an attached loop of cord from her tray and passes this to Ghregh who then places the mixture of fur and hair into the bag (which already contains some bits of blessed herbs, and ashes from an earlier ritual’s fire) and ties it shut.
“Accept now the blessings of the Holy Helpers” he tells the Yesopalithan, passing him the bag with his right hand while using his left thumb to place a smear of honey — dipped from a jar that’s also on the male acolyte’s tray — on that man’s forehead. They then repeat this process for each of the other Yesopalithans who have sought this spiritual protection, while those who have received their talismans walk across to sit amongst the Ursines in the stand. Once that whole section of the rite has been completed the shabear signals to the three drummers again and they and the singers perform another hymn to the Great Bear… this time with the Yesopalithans, as well as the Ursines, clapping at the end of each line.

“Go now in peace, and in good fellowship” Ghregh instructs that ‘congregation’ after the hymn ends, and as he bows his head in silent prayer his acolytes douse the four fires and begin to clear the away the ritual paraphernalia.

“Hokay,” says Surra Rueth’hron to her Yesopalithan counterpart Scotty Mitchell, “Just remember hwhat you were told at the briefing beforehand and everything should be fine. The honey you can wash off once you get back to your hotel; the charm-bags you wear around your necks — under your clothes, right against your chests — from now until after the final whistle in your game against Wight… And fairly soon after that you dispose of their contents either by burning them or by scattering them into running water — which means natural running water, by the way; plumbing won’t do the job correctly — so that luck doesn’t go stale on you; but the bags themselves you can keep, if you so desire, as mementos of this occasion.
“Hrright, now it’s just up to you lot to play well enough to win as if you were facing a normal side…”

[Yesopalitha]

Confirming my acceptance of Armed Bears RP, as well as confirming a few discussions of how Wight will RP his win/loss regardless of what happens tonight. Making new friends through RP'ing is fun!

Team Meeting on the Plane to Astograth

Manager Mitchell gathers his players in the central meeting room on the national team's plane. Coach Wallenberg is deep in paperwork, looking for a weakness in the Wight national team's defense.

Scotty Mitchell: All right, boys and girls. We should arrive in Astograth in a few hours. Then, we will have a few days to get ready for our matchup against Wight, another Unbidden team that has a lot of supernatural players.

Hilary Vander Rox: Coach, why in the world did we attend that ceremony that the Armed Bears had for us? That was just plain weird!

Scotty Mitchell: Now, Hilary, you of all people should know that the Yesopalithan Sports Committee as well as our country as a whole lives off of respect. When another team says that they want us to experience and participate on one of their sacred rites, we say thanks and join them. I personally thought it was a great experience.

Jane Vander Rox: The honey smells so good! And it feels good knowing that we became friends with a lot of fluffy bears!

Hilary Vander Rox: Oh, will you ever grow up?

Jack Jones: I also think that it was a nice experience, but we've got to focus on the matter at hand, now. Wight has a very good team, as well as a knack of making the people they play fear them.

Nadya Dostoevich: Well that's not going to happen to us. We're a country of Unbidden - I mean, I'm a Vampire for goodness sake! Our country has more Unbidden than Bidden! Surely, you've all grown up with Unbidden friends...

Hilary Vander Rox: My high school soccer coach was a Werewolf. Man, did he drive us hard. We did very well, though, and I learned tons.

Jack Jones: I am good friends with the Air Marshall Commander Isokar. He is a good man.

Jane Vander Rox: One of my best friends in high school was a Wraith. I think it's so cool how she could just talk to her Mom whenever she wanted to without using a cell phone or the internet.

Vincent Molina: I trained with an Orc. He could bench press a lot more than I ever could, but he always told me that I had the heart of a warrior and that I would turn out great. He helped me a lot in my life.

Nadya Dostoevich: See? We're all used to being with, and playing against, Unbidden. Wight might be another nation, but they are still Unbidden. We're not scared by looks, smells, or anything like that. If they beat us it'll be because of their football skills, not anything else. We even have the Armed Bears team rooting for us.

Zolina Van York: I'm still excited about that goal I scored against Hutt River to put us ahead... I think we're playing the best ball now and I think we're ready for this matchup between two teams that went four wins and one draw during the group stage.

Scotty Mitchell: You did do a good job, Zolina. It's nice to have different goalscorers. You too, Jack, and of course, Hilary.

James Dotson: Coach, we doing anything different next game, position-wise?

Scotty Mitchell: I'm not planning on it, but don't be surprised if I make halftime adjustments. We're just going to take it to them and see how they deal with everything that we do. It is nice for us to be opening the knockout stage against such a tough opponent, because our half of the draw includes three undefeated teams and whatnot. It should be interesting...

Ishmael Van Tupa: Don't worry about going aggressive, Coach. The D's got your back always.

Quinn Harold: Yep. And James has only given up two goals so far. He's a stud![/b]

Quinn claps James hard on the back. James grins.

Scotty Mitchell: Well, the streak of Yesopalithan sporting teams qualifying for the knockout stages continues, which is the most important thing. I am really proud of you guys. You all have become a family, a group, while playing some brilliant soccer. No matter what happens against Wight or any other team left in the competition, you guys are excelling on the one thing that matters the most in our peoples' minds: You're respecting other teams, and they are respecting you back. Keep up the good work.

Nike Casanova: Every time I get on the pitch, I am so honored by the opportunity to represent Yesopalitha...

Everyone looks at Nike in surprise.

Hilary Vander Rox: He's talking! He's talking! It's a miracle!

Nike turns red, but continues.

Nike Casanova: We represent a nation of twenty-two million people. The world thinks that good Unbidden isn't possible, yet we show them that humans, Vampires, Orcs, Goblins, Elves, Dwarfs, and all other races can live on the same island in harmony. Nadya is a Vampire, yet she's on our team. We'll be incorporating more Unbidden I think as time progresses. We are an example of what the world can be. That is why we continue to play, and show them that we can live together.

The team sits in silence.

Hilary Vander Rox: Hear, hear!

The team claps.

Jack Jones: Nike, you and Earie should talk more often.

The team laughs. Nike smiles sheepishly.

Scotty Mitchell: Alright everyone, get some rest. We'll get ready for that match, and win or lose, we'll leave it all out on the field.

Everyone: Go Flames!

---

The Next Day...

Jack Jones runs into the practice field. the team is gathered, with worried looks on their faces.

Hilary Vander Rox: So what's going on, Jack?

Jack Jones: It's... A tragedy.

Jane Vander Rox: Just tell us already, okay?

Jack Jones: Coach Mitchell and Coach Wallenberg both passed away today when the car they were riding in to get here was hit by an eighteen wheeler.

Stunned silence. Many of the female players begin to cry, and even the male players are struggling to hold their emotion.

Jack brings forth a binder that used to belong to Coach Mitchell's. It has all the notes, all the strategies, all the schemes.

Jack Jones: All right, team. We don't have a Coach now, and we won't until the end of this tournament. I say that we play soccer like we've never played it before. I say we play for the memory of our coaches. For their legacy, for they were the ones who started Yesopalithan soccer. Hilary and I will take over leadership duties, and we will press on like we never have before. What do you say?

Nadya Dostoevich: I agree.

The rest of the team nods their assent. There is a solemn mood in the room.

Hilary Vander Rox: We'll reconvene in an hour - take time to process this, to cry, to hug, to call home, to just let it out. Then, we'll carry on, for that's what we all do - Perseverentia Saeculorum, remember? We shall persevere.

Nike Casanova raises his hand. Jack motions for him to speak.

Nike Casanova: I'm sure that we'll hold a memorial service for them sometime, but before we split to... deal with this, I'd like to say a prayer to Zaiden.

The team kneels in prayer.

Nike Casanova: Our Lord Zaiden, the one who created Yesopalitha and made it so that the Unbidden wouldn't have to be hunted any longer, we praise your name. We ask that you take the spirits of two great men - Scotty Mitchell and Nick Wallenberg - to be with you in the Land of Paradise. We ask that you give us the strength to carry on, to carry on their legacy and continue representing our great nation. Be with each one of us, give us strength, give us peace. Thank you for all you've done for us. Zaiden be praised.

Then, the team, as one, give one another a group hug. Afterwards, the players go in their separate ways for an hour.

---

The team reconvenes practice in an hour. There is a mood of determination in the air, and they begin to push themselves like they never had before. One thing is for certain - be careful, Wight, and any other nation who might face Yesopalitha next - they're not the same people anymore.

[Wight]

.

[Azrael]

--- The Azrael Football Society (cont.) ---
Warning!
--------------------Top Secret!--------------------

---

The Twelfth Man

2 weeks later, and it couldn't have been any sooner. Mark received another personal message from the same user as before;the user who sent him the original encoded message. No coding this time, just plain ol' English.

Apologies for keeping you waiting, but I have been involved an important football related investigation.
We have been considering allowing you into our club, if that is an appropriate title. I have decided that 
you are an ideal candidate to be accepted into our, "club", to become a messenger to the general Azrael
fanbase. 

You see, we are a group of individuals dedicated to finding as much information regarding Azrael's
football system. Our latest project involves some peculiar interesting news: Azrael's top sport clubs have 
received boosted funding over the recent weeks; we believe that this is a clue on to the establishment of
a professional football league in Azrael. Our many sporting clubs have long, historied traditions of expert 
football education, yet the nation has never had a pro league. 

So with this information, I want you to join the Azrael Football Society's inner circle as its twelfth elite 
member. We think that your vast knowledge is enough qualification, and your reputation on football 
fansites could help us to spread football info all over the web. Before you make a final decision on 
whether you should join or not, I suggest you help carry out some of the info I have found to the average
football community and then report back any useful info you find. If you want to work with this just say so
and I'll send you some info I've compiled. Even if you're unsure about working with us you can still elect to do
this favor for me.

Send me a message as soon as you can for me to send you that info.
-Sweeper

Mark was not sure about what to think. It certainly was intriguing, but did he really want to get involved
with these guys. His passion for football convinced him that right now, he shouldn't think to much about
it.

"Just do what the guy says. What could be so harmful about it?"

Mark sat at his desk and typed the following message:

Okay. I'll see what this situation is about and try to inform some of the fans about it. That is, if you
convince me enough.

Mark was sure he'd be interested in what this Sweeper guy had to show him. The Azrael Football Society
began to sound to him like big business.

---

A few hours later, Mark checked again to find another message sent to his account. Excitedly, he opened
it up to find another message from "Sweeper", this guy from the so-called Azrael Football Society.

Alright, here it is. I saw this on one of those income websites. According to it, Azrael's sports clubs 
(that mainly focus on football) have had their funding increased by 75% in the past few months or so. Also,
I'm seeing a huge amount of increase to the Azrael Football Association's budget; it's almost 233%!! To think
they didn't have a lot of money already. Although, I guess it would be necessary if they really are planning a
league.

The message contained a document file attachment, which Mark unhesitantly opened. Amazing! In it was a
of Azraen sports clubs, ranging from all over the nation. Azrael's most premier clubs looked to be giving
a pro league to the nations many football fans. Imagine what excitement this could create!

What I want you to do with this info is to use any way possible on fansites to communicate with the fans 
and show them this info as support for rumors that their will be a league. We want people to support this! Also,
if people find out which cities are getting teams, things will always getting interesting. I will send you more
info if anything else interesting comes up.
-Sweeper

Mark copied the document and began to plan on how he was going to do this.

"Perhaps I'll create a thread on one of those fansites with the info in it. That should get some hits."

He began to wonder what people would think about this kind of news.

"It's to early right now to say if this is absolute proof of a pro league. Perhaps the AFA is trying to improve
Azrael's football quality by boosting its own funding as well as its major academies and programs."

Whatever the reason for this occurrence, Mark was sure that fans would be excited to hear such news, as
there might not be much exciting football around in Azrael after the national team finishes their cup runs.

The Azrael Football Society was about to finally connect with the rest of Azrael. Forever.
***************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

[Zona Azul]

"I want to talk to you tonight, Jaëik. The players need some of their demands done, so we can keep their full motivation in the matches. Now that we are in the knockout rounds, this is more than necessary."

It was Crystal, the assistant coach of Zona Azul, talking to the disguised Art Deckmib. She, who was exactly the person who could help him to prove the crimes going on. Of course this wouldn't be voluntary, as her father is the one involved in all the mess and would go to jail if discovered. But, anyway, she was the one to go after. Due to this, Deckmib was more than happy to be called.

"Anything you want, miss Kavanagh."

Her room was very organized, different from what Deckmib was used to. All the files were in their correct designed places, the table was clean and the computer didn't have any viruses.

"It seems that they are developing a trend that happens in this world we are in now... just because they are winning the matches and receiving some recognition, they are requesting more and more absurd things. Some were humble, but now are acting like superstars!"

Then she took some papers from one of the drawers... each one of them had a label, indicating the contents. Oh my, why would she use drawers when we had modern technology available from several civilizations... some involved digital containers, others small magic devices... but she preferred drawers! Well, this would make the job of Deckmib easier, as he would know exactly where to look for, when in need of something.

"Take a look at this, Jaëik... we need to fill Aux Ditryx's fridge as soon as possible... we have warned her that here she won't be able to eat humans, in respect to the citizens of this country, but she is now impatient... she wants human meat, we'll have to import it from another civilization. She doesn't want the meat of other antropomorphic races."

"But she eats what... two tons each day?"

"More or less. For you to imagine the expense we are having. Miller asked for servants... I believe he is building some kind of harem with them. Eçañas asks her room to be completely filled with earth from the Yukdes planet and the walls to be filled with images of different countries... Biafra asked for several instruments, a thousand clean white towels, two hundred tacos and ten bottles of pure cachaça... well, I guess he has experience in complicated demands, he used to be a musician. Prlnin demands a complete beauty team for her, with manicure, pedicure, make-up specialist... it is being difficult to find specialists for her species. We also have Sazzavv, who demands an open area for training the size of a airfield, and the goalkeeper Y'Gohlrodt who asked for six videogames, so he could play them all at once by using his twelve arms."

"Hmm... expensive it seems."

So the question appeared again: how they are able to cover all these expenses if the profit they announce is not that big? Surely there is something going on, and he had to discover it.

"So, Jaëik, I need you to make the contacts to solve these issues... you can use the universal contactor in my room."

"And where I can find the requests."

"In that drawer, above the contracts... don't forget that everything in here is a copy, for security matters, as my father asked."

The contracts were there, which could be the proof needed. He knew where to look, what to check... but after that he would need to get hold of the original versions.

---

ZONA AZUL OFFICIAL MATCH ANNOUNCEMENT

After the end of the matches in Astograth, which happened before the final game of Zona Azul in the group stage of the Baptism of Fire, the Zona Azul team guaranteed its place in the knockout rounds, even in case of a loss, as that would put the team as one of the best second placed squads in the competition. However, of course the players wouldn't want to finish the stage outside the first place, and all that was needed to guarantee the top position was a draw. A goal suffered at the beginning of the match surprised the aliens and showed them that they had to concentrate in order to get a positive result. They could think of themselves as unbeatable, due to their special talents, but a loss was close to happening.

K-M'il was the one who scored the goal to tie the match, at the beginning of the other half, the second. After that point, knowing that the first place was guaranteed, the players defended more, being cautious to not be caught in a moment of distraction, until the match ended in a draw. Now in the oitavas, the team has a dangerous opponent, Swalenia, and no one can fully guarantee a win of either squad.

[West Angola]

Post Deleted by Author

[Cascratia]

Tension was rising in the Cascratian camp. They just ran 10,000 laps around Echegoyan City and now they have to face the undefeated, unbreakable, invincible Oasirica in the octofinal. Suddenly, Rokonara Aylmer smiled privately as the team fell about the floor, laughing so hard their sides were in danger of splitting. Cretrix Beauchamp had done it again.

'It' being made rather a spectacle of himself. The coach shook his head; ever the clown, even when it was unintentional. Still, his self-confidence flourished endlessly despite the teasing always aimed his way- in fact, without it Glevin Vawdrey wouldn't be surprised if Cretrix's head tripled in size and eventually burst. He had even more of an ego than Nianara Aylmer, though it was usually the pride before a fall and he bounced back much more quickly.

Still, his optimism and humour kept spirits up, and he was loyal to a fault. Unfortunately, this meant sticking by his best friend. He and Rokonara Aylmer were the main antagonists when it came to falling-outs with the others- this being the fault- though he was less likely to hold a grudge for any length of time beyond what was reasonable and there was a limit to the aggression before he decided it had gone too far.

As the team hit the showers, Glevin couldn't help but think Cretrix aptly named. He was the biggest but one of the youngest of the team, having been born the latest in the year, but he was still a skilled player and a determined center back. He also loved being in the spotlight, and was something of a flirt, both of which fuelled further his desire to be a football player; which he now was.

He heard a splash and some laughter from the showers. No doubt Cretrix again. He could be a compassionate soul when he wanted to, though his speciality lay more in sarcasm and dry humour.

More laughter and a cry of surprise- most definitely Cretrix. "I'm not going to have to intervene, am I?" Glevin called half-playfully, half-seriously through the door.

"No coach!"

"N-no, sir! Most definitely not, s-SIR!"

Another splash and yet more laughter. Glevin sighed heavily. "We have a game to play. Just hurry up and quit messing around, okay?"

"Okay!"

[Astograth]

(Please note The Rumiatzi Sentinel is notoriously nationalistic, biased and unreliable. Reader discretion advised.)

A History Of The World Cup: New Challengers Rise

Don't worry, dear reader, we're inching closer to the period that actually matters – the present, of course. But before we get there, we must provide a rundown of World Cups 52, 53 and 54.

The first of these, the fifty-second world tournament, was held in Cafundéu and Nethertopia and featured an unprecedented 182 nations taking part, with many new faces rising to the challenge and staking their claim for the title. Experience was the decisive factor, however, and Valanora fought their way to their fourth world championship in an effort to avenge their previous loss against Cassadaigua. The Marauders didn't have it easy, having to defeat old rivals The Han Empire in the semis and hosts Cafundéu in the quarters – a 3-2 that wasn't decided until the final minutes.

Their opponents in the final were Sorthern Northland, who had previously reached the semis but never the biggest match in world football. Ranked fifth in the world, the Sortherners had to best Pays de Horreur – third-placed at World Cup 51, surprisingly – reigning champions Cassadaigua and finally The Babbage Islands, who were in a similar position of being a rising force but failing to deliver in the end. But the likes of Marxuach, O'Bagels, Fishsnapperbottom and the unforgettable Arrigorriagakoa were no match for the immortal elves of Valanora, with thousands of years and three world titles on their backs. Espy va Drake, perhaps the Marauders' greatest ever and still very much active, scored the opener within sixteen minutes, Lucas Hearts adding one more just before half-time. The second forty-five were misery for Sorthern Northland, Laborious Hawk and then va Drake making it 4-0. But as any sports fan knows, this wouldn't be the Sortherners last chance, not by a long shot...

World Cup 53 was the first to be held entirely in Rushmore, with Pasarga and Somewhereistonia the hosting nations, and it has gone down as one of the strangest of all time. The semifinals were Valanora versu Albundania and The Sylvanaes Queendom of Dorian and Sonya versus The Han Empire. A final between bitter rivals looked a sure thing, but dramatic upsets ensured this was, instead, the third-place play-off.

The elves of Dorian and Sonya, competing in only their third World Cup, stormed to the title, with the runners-up being the equally surprising and unknown Los Azuelen of Albundania. 5-1 was the final scoreline, the Mystical Unicorns' elven team lifting a title they had just barely qualified for and heralding what may become known as a new era, the old guard of Valanora, Starblaydia, then Han and others slowly fading away.

World Cup 54, hosted by Cassadaigua and The Babbage Islands, experiemented with a never-before-seen qualifying format, with all nations first needing to progress from a 'zonal' phase before playing in one of ten 'interzonal' phases hosted in neutral nations, the top three of each making it to the finals. Needless to say, this was praised by some and loathed by others, with no consensus being reached as to whether it was better or worse than more traditional formats.

The finals were another nail in the coffin of our so-called old guard. With the Han Empire, Dancougar and Candelaria And Marquez no longer competing, and Valanora and Starblaydia on the decline, this was the chance for any number of nations. Krytenia, Jeruselem, Sarzonia, The Babbage Islands, Sorthern Northland... they all fell before time, with the semifinals being The Holy Empire – Bears Armed and Aguazul – Jeru FC. The first of these was particularly interesting, with the surreal entities of the Dreamed Realm narrowly losing to sentient, bipedal ursines.

The Holy Empire's team was indeed only slightly less strange than the blancmanges they fielded at WC41; having held a contest to determine what lineups to use during the qualifiers, they finally settled on an assortment of players consisting of an immobile snowman, a sentient football, an overweight comedian, a Sephardic shofar player, a cave-ursine, two members of the '79 Pittsburgh Steelers, the elements Platinum and Gold and the personifications of Starblaydi and Rejistanian football. But as fearsome as The Holy Empire was, the Belles were fully prepared and booked their ticket to the final in Dover, where they found Vincente Aspe had given Aguazul the winner over Jeru FC.

And so, ealry on in what was reportedly the 984th game of the tournament, the emblematic Gunsedal Cisneros gave Aguazul it's first title – not its last, though, as smart readers will know. Some were glad that the poor, oppressed people of Aguazul at last had something to celebrate, but not us at The Rumiatzi Sentinel. No, we rejoiced because it shut up all those people saying authoritarianism doesn't work.

Well, dear reader, are you excited? You better be! Because tomorrow we have the full scoop on World Cup 55, the one in which Astograth made its debut and titles started being worth something.

---

CUTOFF! for the Astograth region octofinals.

[Astograth]

Astograth Region: Round of 16 Results

Yesopalitha 0–0 Wight (0–1 AET)
Oasirica 1–1 Cascratia (2–1 AET)
Sìgerén 3–2 19th Century Beards
Politik 0–0 Überhölichschleissen (1–0 AET)

The Astograth quarterfinals are thus:
Wight vs. Oasirica
Sìgerén vs. Politik

[Sigeren]

OOC: Continued from here.

---

Shǎguā knew not the length of his journey. He had received only rudimentary directions from his new friend and future father-in-law, Yóumù. "When you pass the forest of the willow trees," he had concluded, "sensations of peace and calm will awash you, and then you will know you have arrived. That is the beautiful spirit of the land upon which we reside." Befuddled but confident, he left his land in the caring hands of Yóumù, and began his movement abroad.

Shǎguā was not still few moons old. He could not carry several bags, as he was no longer the same agile man he was in his youth. Instead, he planned to request house at residences along the way, knowing that the Rén community would unfailingly accept him.

He was a weary traveler. He had spent all his adult life relaxedly tending to his farm at day, and making himself cozy and snug by night. Trekking from south to north was not a simple task for a man of his physical capabilities, or lack thereof.

Sometimes as he walked he questioned why he opted to journey to this unseen land to meet a woman he had hitherto not met. But no amount of pondering could change his mind - he had to complete what he had started. He wanted love, he wanted to feel the burning passion inside him that is so irresistible to mankind, and he wanted it more than anything. The heart, the toughness, the ferocity inside him would win out. He knew it would - it always does. That is the grand spirit of the Rén.

But an intelligent man never ceases to think, and therefore most of his thoughts along his journey questioned his wisdom in the first place. He appreciated not the scenery along his trip: the purple sunsets, nor the rolling hills of azure and gold, nor the few roaring rapids that were few and far between in landlocked Sìgerén. His sole mission was to reach his destination, to find what he had sought but never before attempted to obtain. The intensity of love was a higher calling, more powerful than his sanity or conscience. Steadfast in his walk, unilateral in thought, he pressed ever onward.

He had not hunger, nor thirst. Rarely did he produce true bounties in his annual harvests; he pretended to have earned greater compensation for his labor than what the earth gave him. Though he grew quite enough food to live fairly, his belly never ballooned, and he learned to live without great nourishment. Similarly, he had lived all his moons without very much water. One of the major geographical standards of Sìgerén is that it has few water deposits from which to extract that essential human nutrient, and Rén are accustomed to surviving - thriving, even - without great water supply. But my story has now repeated itself, and one must not digress when a compelling story and an audience await.