Zoran

Hello everyone! I am Numerio Dellio-Oliverde, host of the special Football Report that is taking place during the 3rd World Cup of Football. Today we'll talk about the round of 16 game against Nieubasria, which sadly resulted in elimination for the Giovannilandian team, as well as expectations for the next world cup. 
Round of 16: Giovanniland 1-3 Nieubasria (Halftime: 1-1)
Goals: Vittoria Oriastella (28')
The players of Team Giovanniland started the game with confidence against Nieubasria, knowing the challenge ahead of playing against the defending champions. The team played more defensively than before, with the striker Klementine de Abreo-Florine giving the way to another defender, the experienced Kornelio Trieste. Through most of the first half this strategy worked, although it was also nailbiting to watch for any Giovannilandian: the ball spent more time in our defensive half than the attacking one, with the team getting its scoring attempts mostly from counterattacks.
In one of these attempts, Vittoria Oriastella successfully found her way to a good angle to shoot the ball, receiving the ball from former captain Lorentio Santo-Ferraro, and scored, to the surprise of the Basric team. Giovanniland would then hold the advantage for most of the remaining time in the first half, however Nieubasria's striker Camdyn Cartwrighte dealt a blow to Giovannilandian morale when the carefully set up defense was bypassed by him just before the first half ended, on minute three of stoppage time.
In the second half, Team Giovanniland continued with a similar formation to the first half, hoping that they would be able to mount a similar counterattack to the previous one that led to the goal. In fact the team did, with good attempts from Gabriella Orfeo and Augusto Uprino-Antenore, the latter of which required a stellar defense from Nieubasria's goalkeeper Dalton Fairburne to stop, but overall the success was not to be repeated since the Basric defense improved after the first and ultimately only goal from Giovanniland.
As time progressed, the goal to break the even score was eventually scored by the striker Zedh Coreia from Nieubasria at the 65th minute, and the defending champions further added to their score near the end of the match through a 83th minute goal by Landan Aylmere, unfortunately denying the Giovannilandians any chance at a comeback.
Our team was then eliminated from the competition, curiously the third time this happens just at the round of 16 and with a score of 3-1 for the opposing team, dubbed 'The 3-1 Curse' by fans. The coaches Èttore Ottavio-Linnare and Elia Lastrilla expressed their commiserations at the result and the fact the goal of surpassing this stage did not come to fruition, but also lauded the team for playing to the best of its ability against the top team in the world. Gustavo Zapata, the new captain, also commented that due to the big changes taken in the team since the last world cup this new roster is very much still adapting itself, and over time he expects that it will be stronger.
With these results, we at the Football Report have updated the scoring leaderboard one last time for the foreseeable future! The newcomer to the Squadra Nationala, Vittoria Oriastella, has proven her place as one of the rising stars of the national football, scoring two goals in this World Cup, while at the top we have famous strikers like the captain Gustavo Zapata and the young star Matteo Divendomare.
Name Goals Scored Rank Gustavo Zapata 9 #1 Matteo Divendomare 8 #2 Pietro Takeda 5 #3 Lorentio Santo-Ferraro 4 #4 Alberta Verdi 3 #5 Arabella Viaria-Nyima 2 #6 Augusto Uprino-Antenore Klementine de Abreo-Florine Vittoria Oriastella Farlina Benaventura 1 #10 Giovanni Oliverde-Lastrilla Jurandire Lianzo Katia Ovinaria-Taspena Manuello Karventine-Devalle Ortensia Anvera-Floreverde That is all from us today! Although our team has been eliminated, continue watching this channel because we will continue displaying further matches from the 3rd World Cup of Football. I hope to see you there, and I also make an invite to all viewers to stay tuned for our upcoming Chess Report that will cover all happenings from the 1423 Giovanniland Chess Championship, starting today in the city of Sonserina!

AADLIVALVE   -      -   NOBILITYWATCH
Tales of Monarchy's Enduring Appeal (Part 12)
COLUMN - DECEMBER 5, 1423
In a world that often seems to embrace change at breakneck speed, some traditions stand as timeless pillars, capturing the hearts and imaginations of the people. Among these enduring traditions is the institution of monarchy, where tales of regal splendor, unwavering duty, and the charm of royal personalities continue to weave a narrative that crosses generations.
In this column, we embark on a journey through the lens of ardent admirers and staunch monarchists who find solace, inspiration, and connection in the stories of royal families. Each week, we delve into the personal narratives of those who have dedicated themselves to preserving and cherishing the age-old traditions of monarchy.
From grandiose ceremonies to the subtle nuances of royal interactions, we'll explore the multifaceted appeal of the royal house of the current Prince. Whether it's the captivating allure of a coronation, the timeless elegance of a tiara, or the profound sense of duty exemplified by monarchs, these stories will illuminate the reasons behind the unwavering passion of those who continue to champion the cause of monarchy.
Join us as we navigate history, peeking into the lives of individuals who proudly wear their admiration for royalty as a badge of honor. This is not just a collection of stories; it's a celebration of the enduring charm and significance of monarchy in the hearts of its devotees. So, sit back, pour yourself a cup of tea, and reminisce with our featured submitter. 
Elaine Qu, 56, Fort Ingor
 
 

Introduction

Thank you for purchasing my book! My name is Jasmine Rice, and I have been a chef for over 30 years, specialising in Sekiyan cuisine. However, I didn't always want to be a chef, and I hope my story and recipes can help you form a positive relationship between you and the kitchen!
From a young age, I always wanted to become a lawyer, and I even got into Ma Law School in Anzhou! Whilst studying abroad in Giovanniland at the University of Porto Violeto, I found my passion for cooking. I had always taken food for granted, and now that I was in another country, I knew I had to find a way to start making some of my favourite recipes from home. I returned home to Sekiya, and passed law school a year later, with cooking still my favourite hobby.
I settled into a job in Anzhou, where I stayed for several years, and I gradually became tired of my job as a lawyer. I visited a shrine to ask for direction in my life, and I got it from the smell of a nearby restaurant. Almost within the space of a week, I had transitioned from a promising lawyer into an average chef on the outskirts of Anzhou.
I slowly worked my way up across multiple kitchens, and after 7 years of enjoyment and development, I found myself as the Head Chef of Jiuguan's new restaurant in Changjing. After almost over a decade of experience, I started my own global restaurant chain 'Jasmine', with locations on every continent! After decades of work, I am now excited to be able to publish my first ever recipe book!
Index
Page 1 - Introduction and Index
Page 2 - Sekiyan Food Groups
Page 1
[OOC Note: This post will be updated gradually with recipes that fit in with my idea of Sekiyan cuisine! I'm happy to take suggestions!]

The icy dark of the winter night swallowed Eino Veskima as he ventured into the malevolent embrace of Salumetsa. A frigid wind sighed through the towering pines while the grasping branches overhead tangled with shadows that whispered his sins. Eino, driven by the weight of guilt and an insatiable curiosity, navigated the labyrinthine maze of twisted trunks and thorny underbrush, descending deeper into the heart of darkness.
The oppressive shadows grew denser, the moonlight casting eerie silhouettes that danced across the twisted foliage as Eino devled deeper into Salumetsa. Spectral, unseen eyes peered through the darkness, scrutinizing his every move. The half-forgotten tales of the Eyesnatcher, hung heavy in the air like a vengeful fog, painting the landscape with ancient dread.
The whispering wind seemed to carry an unsettling choir of voices, recounting Eino's transgressions with a chilling clarity. The tangled branches above him clawed at the inky sky, casting elongated shadows that mimicked the ethereal fingers of the forest witch herself. An unsettling unease gripped him as the very essence of Salumetsa seemed to seep into his bones, mirroring the rot that festered within.
Helve Sightbane, draped in ragged robes that seemed to absorb the shadows around her, observed Eino from the shadows. Her presence exuded an otherworldly malevolence, and her eyes, two voids that absorbed all light, seemed to pierce through the layers of deception that shielded his soul. Her incantations resonated with the rustle of leaves, creating an orchestral backdrop to the unfolding nightmare.
Memories of Eino's transgressions played out in a ghastly panorama—the broken promises, the shattered bonds, the callous disregard for those who loved him. The forest, an ancient witness to countless tales of betrayal, seemed to mourn the decay of kinship that festered within Eino's heart.
Salumetsa itself became an entity, alive with a malevolent consciousness that pulsated with every beat of Eino's tormented heart. Whispering spirits tugged at him, urging him further into the tangled web of the cursed woods. The ground beneath him seemed to shift, the very earth alive with a sinister intent that propelled him toward his impending reckoning.
Eino stumbled upon a clearing, its sickly glow revealing the silhouette of Helve. Her skeletal fingers, like talons dipped in shadows, reached out toward him. Her voice, a dissonant melody that echoed through the clearing, recounted his sins in excruciating detail, each word etching deeper into the fabric of his tormented soul.
"Your eyes betray you, Eino Veskima," she crooned, the very air pregnant with the weight of his sins. "They reveal the darkness within, the rot that festers in the hearts of those who forsake kinship."
In the deafening silence that followed, the Eyesnatcher seized him with a ferocity born of ancient vengeance. Her fingers, gnarled and ice-cold, plunged into his eyes, and the world erupted into a symphony of agony. Blood and magic mingled in the air as Eino's anguished screams echoed through Salumetsa, his blindness both physical and metaphysical.
As the last vestiges of his sight were ripped away, the forest itself seemed to shudder, the very roots of Salumetsa quivering with satisfaction. Helve's haunting laughter, a cacophony of torment, intertwined with the mournful howls of the wind, marking the gruesome climax of Eino Veskima's descent into darkness.
The legend of Eino Veskima became a whispered warning in the our community, a tale of the Eyesnatcher who dwelled within Salumetsa, a force that emerged to claim the souls of those who dared to take kinship for granted. The cursed forest stood as a monument to the consequences of betrayal, its haunted trees etching the tale of Eino's demise into the very fabric of Salumetsa's twisted history. And in the moonlit shadows of those ancient woods, Helve waited, her eyes devoid of color, ever watchful for the next impure soul to succumb to the abyss.

Leo Messy: Larxia's Football Maestro
 
Leo Messy, the respected captain of the Larxian National Team, is not just a football icon but a symbol of resilience, determination, and unwavering spirit. His illustrious journey from humble beginnings to global prominence is a testament to his unwavering passion for the beautiful game.
Born and raised in a modest Larxian neighborhood, Leo's affinity for football bloomed on dusty streets, playing with a worn-out ball and dreams as big as the world. His innate talent and unyielding dedication caught the attention of local mentors, marking the genesis of an extraordinary sporting odyssey.
From those humble origins, Leo grew through Larxia's football ranks, captivating audiences with his mesmerizing footwork, impeccable vision, and unparalleled skill on the pitch. However, his path to success was marred by obstacles. Injuries and setbacks tested his resolve, but his tenacity to overcome adversity has defined his journey.
Becoming the captain of the Larxian National Team was a culmination of Leo's dedication and leadership. Off the field, he passionately supports grassroots football initiatives and philanthropic causes, aiming to uplift underprivileged communities and nurture aspiring talents.
However, Leo's World Cup journey is a tale of bitter defeats and unfulfilled dreams. In the inaugural World Cup, Larxia suffered a heart-wrenching loss to Nieubasria in the finals, and history repeated itself in the subsequent World Cup, where they faced an untimely exit in the quarterfinals against the same opponent.
Now, as the captain leading Larxia's charge in the ongoing World Cup, fate has intertwined his path once again with Nieubasria, this time in the quarterfinals. It's a moment fraught with significance—an opportunity for redemption, a chance to rewrite history, and an occasion for Leo to lead his team to victory against their longtime nemesis.
As Larxia braces for this pivotal match, Leo's story isn't just about football; it symbolizes resilience, fortitude, and an unyielding spirit that inspires millions worldwide. His determination to conquer past defeats and lead his team to glory encapsulates the unwavering commitment of a true sporting legend.

Match Report:
The highly anticipated clash between Aukera and Larxia began with both teams displaying exceptional determination. Aukera, known for their swift counterattacks, tested Larxia's defense early on, creating some tense moments. Larxia, however, showed resilience, dominating possession and orchestrating several attacking moves. Despite their efforts, the first half remained goalless, with both teams evenly matched in a fiercely contested battle.
The intensity soared in the second half as both sides pushed for a breakthrough. Aukera showcased their defensive prowess, thwarting Larxia's attempts at goal. However, in the 78th minute, the stadium erupted into jubilation as Larxia's maestro, Leo Messy, showcased his brilliance. With a stunning solo effort, he weaved past defenders and unleashed a powerful shot into the bottom corner, sending the Larxia fans into a frenzy. The scoreboard read 1-0 in favor of Larxia, a goal that sealed their place in the Quarterfinals of the World Cup.
The final whistle echoed across the stadium, marking Larxia's hard-fought 1-0 victory over a resilient Aukera. The Larxian supporters erupted into cheers, celebrating their team's triumph and qualification for the Quarterfinals. The players embraced each other, acknowledging the significance of their gritty performance that propelled them into the next stage of the tournament. The excitement among Larxia's fans was palpable, as they looked forward to the team's continued success on their quest for World Cup glory.
Next Challenge: Quarterfinals
As the celebrations simmered down, attention swiftly turned to the upcoming Quarter-final clash. Larxia's next challenge would be against their long-standing rivals, Nieubasria. Nieubasria have been a thorn in Larxia's side, defeating them in previous crucial stages of the World Cup - the Finals of the first World Cup and the Quarterfinals in the second. The stage was set for a fierce and anticipated battle between these two footballing powerhouses, reigniting a historic rivalry on the grand stage of the World Cup.

The Larxian National Team's Training Ground buzzed with activity, the air thick with the sounds of whistles, shouts of coaches, and the rhythmic thud of footballs meeting boots.  Amidst this organized chaos, there was a palpable sense of focus and determination as the players pushed themselves in pursuit of excellence, pausing briefly between drills to catch their breath.
Felix Jr.: Hey, lads, how about we spice things up a bit? A round of "Keepie-Uppies" to break the monotony?
Leo Messy: (grinning) Oh, I can't resist a little challenge. Count me in!
Jordan Moon: (with a smirk) Let's see who's got the moves today.
Andres Pirlo: (laughing) I might be the oldest, but I've still got some tricks up my sleeve. I'm game!
They kicked off their friendly game of "Keepie-Uppies," the ball dancing skillfully among their feet like a choreographed spectacle. Each player contributed their unique flair, showcasing a blend of precision and artistry as they deftly maneuvered the ball, exchanging quick passes and daring flicks.
Felix Jr.: Alright, let the games begin!
The atmosphere crackled with energy as the players displayed their dazzling ball control skills. Each sought to outshine the other, weaving a tapestry of flicks, tricks, and precise touches, igniting a friendly yet fiercely competitive spirit among them.
Leo Messy: (juggling the ball) Check this out, fellas! The old magic is still there!
Jordan Moon: (dribbling with flair) Leo, don't get too comfortable. I'm here to steal the show!
Andres Pirlo: (keeping the ball moving with precision) Ah, youth! Let me show you how it's done, boys!
Felix Jr.: (quick footwork) Leo, you're not the only magician here!
Leo Messy: (attempting a fancy trick) Alright, Felix, let's see if you can keep up with this!
Leo Messy: (pretending) What? How? Felix? You've got moves, kid!
Adrian Garcia: That's some skill, Andres!
Robert del Piero: Come on, Jordan, show them who's boss!
Jordan Moon: (grinning) You're all in trouble now! Time to turn up the heat!
Andres Pirlo: (visibly exhausted) Alright, alright, that's enough fun for today, boys!
Leo Messy: (smiling) Good hustle, everyone! Now, who's hungry? Let's grab some grub!
Jordan Moon: (laughing) Leo, almost got you there! Next time, maybe!
Leo Messy: (winking) Keep trying, Moon! I'm not getting rusty just yet!
Felix Jr.: (with a smirk) Leo, one-nil to me! Better luck next time, eh?
Leo Messy: (grinning) You got lucky, kid! But watch out, I'll get you next time!
The players walked away from the training ground, their jokes and laughter bouncing around. Their bond grew stronger as they teased each other, filling the air with a sense of unity and joy. These moments of fun were just as vital as their hard work, strengthening their team spirit.

THE REAL CHALLENGE
 
Good day football fans! We're reporting from Ryxtylopia. The Orangutan Rangers qualified to the Round of 16 after getting 1st place in Group D.

 
 
 
 
Behind the Mastermind: Mikel Artery
Mikel Artery,38 years old,we can call him as the greatest coach in football history. With bronze medal in 1421 Esferiad,2nd place in 1422 World Cup,and now top of Grouping round. 
Artery was born and raised in Permata Pantai. His father was a football player for Permata Pantai FC. Artery love football too. He played representing Permata Pantai Youth. Unluckily,no no club wanted him. 
AT age 20,he completed his C coaching license and degree in corporate management,then started to coach Permata Pantai FC Youth. He won the Reserve league at age 21. Insanely,he won as a coach,not a player. Then at age 28,he started to manage Permata Pantai FC main team. He teh won the Arifiyyah Premier League and Sultan Arifiyyah Cup few years ago. He was given the responsibility to coach the Orangutan Rangers 3 years ago,and doing a very well job 
With Classic 433 attacking and sometimes switching to 4231 formation,the team be ome unstoppable. Using Muhammad Nazhim as the playmaker,and Kane as the Target man is very brilliant move. Traditionally play passing style,giving advantage to the team to hold the most possession in the game. 
Hopefully the great performance will continue in the qualification round till the final. Artery,bring the Cup to home!

Results of the Round of 16

"so... we actually won? Against the host? Who is currently setting fire to their own stadium?" asked Gen. Iosip Frank, almost stunned at television.
Marshal Briand and General Frank were watching the Ryxtylopia vs Dalimbar match on FSTV-1.
"It... appears so. Remind me to have Stavka approve something for Sasha. Lunging at that one Ryx player in the first half was entertaining. I think she may have drew blood." responded Mar. Marcus Briand.
The two senior officers of the Free State historically often watched Dalimbari sports together, having been friends for what seemed like ages. Although born in separate cities, their families had close ties with one another and got to know each other in their time in the 16th Tank. Briand took a more direct route to Stavka compared to Frank, who preferred the field lifestyle. This week was the first in quite a while where the two were in the same room, now that Briand convinced Frank, and Stavka, to appoint his friend as Vice Chair.
"Absolutely, Marcus. Poor barbarians, they're going to lose their small minds at this. Which of the players scored? I couldn't tell." Gen. Frank said while sipping his beverage.
"Does it really matter? They're all one in the same. But I think it was either five or seven. Or maybe eight. I really do appreciate the program from Research Branch that made... whatever this all is, happen. I really can't tell the difference between them." the Marshal of the Free State of Dalimbar sipped his beverage, and the two watched a commercial on the latest in tractor technology in a contented silence.

The morning after Judge Gedridh's decision, Jacen scans through his usually meticulous calendar and notices an influx of "Red" tagged events that he usually jokingly calls "House Calls". They are one-on-one only meetings, usually reserved for his most prestigious clients. He recalls an interaction last night client's in-house counsel that already hinted at disapproval, subtly questioning how the Woolrey-Arnold Pharmaceutical case aligns with Jacen's established portfolio. The tone suggested more than a mere lack of comprehension; it signaled an unspoken disapproval. Now, with the surge in requests for personal meetings, Jacen senses that these encounters will not be the routine discussions of legal matters or happenings for him to help 'figure out'. Instead, they are likely to be covert interrogations and pressure sessions, as his elite clientele seeks to understand and influence his stance on the controversial case.
Contemplating the schedule before him, he starts to mull over how he will strategically defend his decision to take on the Woolrey-Arnold Pharmaceutical case. Subtly hinting at the broader implications of the espionage issue and emphasizing the importance of protecting his clients' interests in this burgeoning cyber world is possible his only change at crafting a delicate narrative that justifies his involvement in this suit. He cannot plainly state the possibility that the same espionage tactics resulting in the drug formulation leak may have touched upon the confidential matters of his high-profile clients without causing undue alarm. 
"****", Jacen mutters into his mug. 

Over the Gulf, 07:01
This one was good. Daring. Young, most likely. Desperate to live. Weren’t they all?
The dive was magnificent, foolhardy. Tchristan Skjursón, captain of the first wing, decided he would like more of this boy’s kind come the showdown. The boy flew, as they said, by the teeth. Such a scream dive. Skjursón didn’t know the runty little enemy fighters could achieve that.
It seemed almost a waste to slay him.
Wound tight in his flight suit, Skjursón committed his FP1-i steeper still, adjusting the trim, slicing down through the air like a knife at point six of mach. His cockpit was dark save for the winking lights of some instruments, which reflected off the black leather gloves encasing his hands. The stooping Firebird was an obvious mark in his gunsight.
How was it surviving? Pilot skill, or luck? The young had little of the former and, sometimes, barrels of the latter. The dive was testing the enemy plane right to the limits of its airframe. A single degree deeper and the descent would strip the wings away at the cabane or blow out the engine.
Behind his full-head helmet, Skjursón smiled. His face, so seldom seen, was marred by a grizzled tissue of scars.
At three hundred metres, the Firebird pulled out, dragging a long, aching turn up and away to avoid the ragged earth, its prop engine spitting and foundering.
Another surprise. Another admirable display of skill. Or luck.
Skjursón tilted his stick and nudged the engine, pulling out of the dive effortlessly, mocking the laboured struggles of the smaller plane. It had been locked in his sights for two minutes now.
Why hadn't he killed it?
I want to see what you've got, Skjursón thought.
The Firebird veered around a hilltop, letting the cross of its shadow flicker across the sunlit canopy, then tipped its wings hard to steer around another crag. Skjursón kept his FP1 almost level to execute a following path, ripping through the air like a hungry bird of prey. The Firebird was still in his crosshairs.
Suddenly, around the next turn, it disappeared. Skjursón frowned and swung about, assuming the boy had finally misadventured and flown into a hillside. For the first time in nearly three minutes, the gunsight was empty… visual lost...
No, not dead. There he was. The little wretch. He’d somehow flick-rolled the Firebird around the headland and swung back the way he’d come, gunning low on WEP.
Skjursón lifted his black-clad hands off the stick and clapped. Very fine indeed.
A warning note sounded and Skjursón snapped it off with a curse. He was down to reserve now, almost at the critical fuel threshold. That meant he had no more than two minutes left before he had to turn for home. More than that, and he wouldn’t make it to the beachhead aerie.
"Game’s done now," he hissed through chapped lips. He surged the FP1 forward and it went fluidly, responding perfectly, sure as a shark. Reacquire, he thought to himself. He’d made five kills already, another ace day, but this boy would make a nice round six. He’d dallied too long, playing games.
The FP1 chased and sought. The Firebird was pulling wide rolls and staying low, keeping the twisting furrows of the hill line between itself and the hunter.
Skjursón spat the most foul curse he knew. The little bastard was slipping away. By the tips of his fingers. By the teeth. He had allowed too much grace. Now the enemy was mocking him.
He got a partial alignment, then lost it again as the fugitive Firebird banked perilously around a coastal crag. They both passed so close that sand stormed up off the beach in their combined wash.
Another partial. Skjursón fired. Dazzling tracers laddered away from his machine and cut the cold morning air. Miss.
Another turn, another partial, another futile burst. Skjursón throttled up and soared around, swinging his machine out wide on the Firebird's eight. It was running for all it was worth, burning at full power. Skjursón got a true sight at last.
"Goodnight," he muttered, bored of the game now. His thumbs dug at the trigger paddle.
Cannon fire lanced down through the air ahead of him. Skjursón felt a tiny vibration and a glance told him he’d been holed in one wing. Out of the sun, a second Firebird was diving on his tail, its nose lit up with muzzle flash. Just a look told the expert captain that this second craft was piloted by an idiot, a man far less capable than the spirited boy he had been chasing. It was coming over too shallow, wobbling badly, desperately. It had no real target.
But still, it was behind him and gunning madly. The warning sounded again, impatient. He’d reached critical fuel threshold.
He was done here. Enough. Skjursón pulled the stick and powered off almost vertical, pulling out of the chase. The second Firebird went by under him as he climbed, bemused by the sudden exit.
Skjursón climbed into the sunlight, gaining altitude. He banked 180 and aimed his beloved FP1 South. This broiling air war was just getting started. There would be another day.
And another kill.

The Saint Mark Angels were gathered in front of a whiteboard in a hotel conference room. The celebratory mood over having made the Round of 16 had softened and was now mixed with a dose of anxiety. Coach Rodeberg was going over strategy. 
"You all know that Cambria's Union Football is an excellent team. You also know that even the best teams can be vanquished with the right game plan and focus. They're a very aggressive team and we're strong on defense. We aren't going to beat them by trying to match their offense at this stage of the tournament. We will play to our strength. We're going to set up in a  4-2-3-1 looking for some balance and flexibility. The two defensive midfielders will protect the back four, and if they drop in, the outside backs can join in on the offense. We'll still have 8 in our own half when defending. Like the 4-3-3, pressing the ball high up the pitch can create turnovers. We need to watch for Montero, of course ... Dragonhart and Trecoup, that will be your focus. We effectively guard our home while trying to create openings for Westley. Don't take Meredith for granted either. He will be ready."
The team spent the next couple of hours reviewing the plan and then boarded the bus to take them out for practice on the pitch, anxiety slowing being replaced with determination.

Ambassador Katrina Edelgard ducked through the Ryxenian back streets with surprising swiftness. She looked around to make sure she was alone. Liking what she saw, she pulled out her phone and made a call.
“The goods are secured, Chief,” she reported.
“Very good, Katrina. Get back here as soon as you are able.”
“Of course.” She hung up.
The goods in question were tightly wrapped in a large, nondescript bundle under her arm. Edelgard herself was not dressed to her usual standards, but had donned worn street clothes. She didn’t exactly look at home in the slums, and was clearly still a foreigner, but stuck out far less than she would have in her full suit.
She had avoided detection to this point, but as she now rounded a corner, she found herself walking directly towards a pair of police officers. She internally cursed her luck, but did not break stride—the last thing she wanted to do was to act more suspicious.
“Halt,” one of the officers barked.
Edelgard complied.
The other officer smiled. “We just have a couple questions, ma’am.”
“It is my understanding that this is not a restricted area,” Edelgard challenged. “I assure you I’m not with the press.”
“That’s not the issue, ma’am.” The officer gestured to the package in the ambassador’s hands. “I’m going to need to see that.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Officer. My client will be upset if this is tampered with at all.”
“I’m sure they’ll understand,” said the officer, moving to grab the package.
In a single movement Edelgard whisked the package out of reach with one hand, and pulled out her credentials with the other. “I am on diplomatic business for the Republic of Overthinkers. If there is a problem, you are welcome to discuss it with my superior, Ambassador Witz, across town.”
The officers backed up, and Edelgard was allowed to pass.
Edelgard soon left the slums for the more respectable part of the city. She strolled into a fine hotel and took the elevator up. She knocked on the door of Room 417.
Coach Luigi opened the door, then turned to holler back into the room. “Alright guys, the tacos are here!”
A resounding cheer came back in response.
Edelgard opened her package, and distributed quality Ryxtylopian street tacos to very hungry football players and staff gathered in Coach’s suite. She did not remain long herself, though. Luigi saw her check her phone, see something she didn’t like, and leave the room with her share of the food.
Twenty minutes later, Luigi got a text from her. Meet me in my suite. Alone.
“Wendell. Come in.”
Despite having been here for weeks, Edelgard’s room in the hotel was as impeccably neat as the diplomat herself. Only the single suitcase in the closet, and the laptop sitting on the desk, indicated that the room was occupied at all. She let Luigi into the room and shut the door behind him.
“There’s something you may want to see,” she said, as she walked over to the laptop.
Her browser was open to the BrownNewsTV video, which had been released earlier that night. Luigi watched in shock as Lucille Lyons finally revealed herself, only to disparage his team and everything he had built over the past few years at the national level.
As the video ended, he could only shake his head in disbelief. “I’ll be damned. If anything she said about the team was true, she sure didn’t bring it up to me. And I gave multiple opportuni—“
“It’s not really my concern, Coach,” Edelgard interjected, “it simply seemed fair to make you aware of what was being claimed. As far as my department is concerned, this is a petty domestic dispute, so my hands are tied.”
Luigi sighed bitterly. “I imagine you’d tell me that making a statement wouldn’t make matters any better.”
“Not necessarily,” Edelgard shrugged, “and the optics of ignoring the allegations may be worse than dismissing them. But you have a PR team for that.”
“It just sucks, you know? Yeah, Lucille was pretty disconnected from the team, but I always thought that was by choice. Now she’s acting like we’d hunt her down and shut her up if we knew where she was. Like we’re some Zoranian crime ring.”
“You can’t control what people say about you,” Edelgard said. Then, in a lower voice, she added, “but you can control how it’s perceived.”
Luigi raised an eyebrow. “What are you suggesting?”
“There’s a young man I met while I was traveling with the rugby team last time.”
“A Dalimbari?”
“Heavens no. An Overthinker. Got himself into trouble there—I actually don’t know how he made it out. But he might have the perfect skill set for this.”
“To do what, exactly? To silence her?”
“Of course not. But to undermine her credibility.”
Luigi didn’t respond, but seemed intrigued. Edelgard took out a notepad and pen, and wrote down a name and phone number.
“Up to you if you give him a call. Just remember, I didn’t officially endorse this.”
She gave a curt nod as Luigi took the paper and left the room. He stood in the hallway for a moment, studying the note.
Conrad Ellen
+3 33 204 98 861

Giovannian Empire
An article from the Lavender Encyclopedia | Choose a different language

The Empire's maximum territorial extent during its second golden century (950-1050).
Full quality image link
Status: Empire
Absolute monarchy (648-1095)
Semi-constitutional monarchy (1095-1226)
Capital:
Rivomonte (648-650)
Porto Violeto (650-734)
Giovannia (734-1226)
Official Languages: Giovannese and Lavandulan
Other Languages: Glendulan and Minsunese (in Aura)
Fhaeng, Ganfa, Ardalan, Ulergen, Beremean, Emunian, Varanian (in Andolia)
State Religion: Violetism
Demonym: Giovannian
Area: 
648 (initial extent): 165,700 km²
731 (unification of Lavender Island): 460,800 km²
850 (after colonization of Fhaengshia, Giovandolia and the Outer Sirenas): 1,052,400 km²
950 (after colonization of northern Varanius and overseas trading posts): 1,130,000 km²
1095 (after independence of Blue Bubble, Minsu and Fhaengshia): 508,200 km²
1225 (end of the Empire and modern area): 395,107 km²
The Giovannian Empire (Giovannese: Imperio Giovanniano or Imperio de Giovanniterra) was a late medieval and early modern state in the southern coasts of the Darkesian Sea, with lands in both Aura and Andolia, that existed from 648 to 1225. 
The empire was founded in central Lavender Island from an alliance between the Abrentan and Lavandulan civilizations, and then proceeded to unify the island for the next century. Wars against Minsu (675-688) and Blue Bubble (726-731), in between periods of rebuilding and improvement of the nation's military, and increased trading, marked the first century of the empire. Afterwards, the empire set its sights beyond the island, embarking on a lengthy conquest of various states in northern Andolia between 750 and 850, corresponding to what is today Fhaengshia, Giovandolia and the Outer Sirenas, and also securing a pivotal treaty with Saint Mark in 780.
The empire's maximum extent was reached in the next century after the annexation of northern Varanius and the voyages across the oceans that led to the establishment of multiple trading posts, such as in the coast of western Nur, an era deemed the Golden Age (850-1050). However, the empire came to a decline with the Lavender Revolutions of the late 11th century, which re-established the independence of Blue Bubble and Minsu. Soon after, the return of the Fhaengshian monarchy happened, regaining into control of their entire country after their centuries-long exile in the southern lands of Fhaengshia and causing further territorial losses for the empire.
The empire's final century featured a change of government, from an absolute to a semi-constitutional monarchy, and a greater focus into modernization and adaptation. This successfully consolidated control of Giovaura and Giovandolia, although the western provinces of the latter (modern-day northern Varanius) were lost in 1204. In order to keep up with the times, the final years of the empire saw the start of industrialization, and the eventual transition into a full constitutional monarchy in 1226.
Formation
The Giovannian Empire's origins date back to an intricate period of Lavender Island history. In the late 6th century, the Abrentan civilization was experiencing turmoil after its prosperous Classical Era, with the Abrentan Republic being divided into three states in 574, and these successor realms breaking into even smaller ones by 600. Meanwhile, the Lavandulan civilization faced a long decline during its post-imperial era, besides being threatened by the expansion of other peoples in the island such as the Minsunese. 
A notable happening of this time took place in the year of 571, just before the Abrentan division, when several Lavandulan states forged an alliance with the objective of eventually forming an union with the friendly Abrentans to the south. The ensuing crisis in Abrento threw a wrench in this plan, but two decades later they found a powerful ally in the Giovannian Domain, led by a general called Giovanni that had common interests with the Lavandulans of regaining lost glories, and strategically located in the crossroads between the Abrentan and Lavandulan civilizations.
For the next decades, the Giovannian Domain start to conquer the other Abrentan successor realms one by one, aided by the Lavandulans. The Akallian Confederacy was the first to fall, in 604, followed by the Kornelian Domain in 612, Principality of Kadrina in 615 and Duchy of Velitamme in 623. The ensuing conquests were harder, as they included powerful and populous areas like the Duchy of Rivamora and the rump state of the Abrentan Republic. However, by instigating rebellions in Rivamora that state was also defeated, and after the annexation of the frontier County of Edrense by 640, the Abrentan Republic was left totally encircled. Thus began a long siege that lasted for eight years, until the capital Abrentopole fell and Abrento was reunified. Thereafter, the Giovannian Empire was officially founded, by uniting the two lands of Abrento and Lavandula.
Unification of Lavender Island

The unification of Lavender Island under the Giovannian Empire.
The Giovannian Domain's small capital of Rivomonte soon gave way to the much larger city of Porto Violeto, at the time the largest city in the empire that was not also a previous polity's seat of power, so it was chosen as a neutral new capital. With that began a long process of reconstruction, since the lands of the Empire had seen constant conflict for much of the previous century. The now crowned Emperor Giovanni I, son of the general that forged the alliance with the Lavandulans, focused on improving the nation's economy, expanding its military and seeking trade relations with neighboring nations, while also adding to the empire some frontier mountainous regions, ruling until his death in 655, having ruled the Empire and its predecessor state since 624.
The remainder of the 7th century then saw the rule of two other emperors. Giovanni's younger brother Lorentio I ruled from 655 to 672 and largely continued his brother's policies, further strengthening the Empire, while Lorentio's son Tommaso I ruled from 672 to 701 and took the empire on a different path, starting the second phase of the Lavender Unification Wars. With the preparations laid down by the two previous emperors, Tommaso I declared war on Minsu in 675, seeking to conquer the powerful state to the east which was seen as a threat to imperial ambitions. The war was tough, lasting for thirteen years and happening on two different fronts, the northern and southern. These two fronts eventually met on southeast Lavender Island, where the Minsunese civilization had started around three millennia before, and also the location of its main cities such as Tanba and Shinano, which fell on 688.
After Tommaso's death, his daughter Emilia I ascended to the throne, ruling from 701 to 726, whose reign was marked by a peaceful period in between the major wars of her predecessor and successor's reigns, and also by the increase of trading posts established by the empire across the Darkesian, which helped to expand the nation's trading routes. During Emilia's reign, Giovannian operatives furthermore acted in foreign lands that could be potentially annexed to the empire in the future by stoking division and turmoil, such as the Ardala Khanate that fell in 712. After her death, Tommaso's younger son Giovanni II became the emperor after that, and due to his achievements is commonly known as Giovanni the Great. 
The first of his major acts was to finish what his father intended, to unify the entirety of Lavender Island. The invasion of Blue Bubble happened from 727 to 731—at the time, the Glendulans were divided into northern and southern clans that were fighting a cold war, the result of a civil war centuries before. The northern clan quickly allowed conquest, in the belief that the empire would help the side win, while the southern clan resisted for four more years until its eventual defeat in 731. Thus the island was unified at last, and a new city called Giovannia was built on the orders of Giovanni II to celebrate this achievement, on the original land of the Giovannian Domain. The city then became the capital three years later, marking the transition to a new phase of the empire.
Reign of Giovanni II

The southern Darkesian Sea in the year of 750 AF on the eve of the first expeditions.
Giovanni II ruled until 782 for a total of 56 years, the longest of any emperor, and had already left a mark in history in his first few years by being the first ruler to unify the entirety of Lavender Island. After two peaceful decades during with the empire adapted to this new reality and made important progress in trade and military affairs, expansion happened once more, this time outside of the island. The emperor had economical interests of expanding its territory in order to increase the empire's riches, and also because previous emperors had already been paving the way for conquest by destabilizing foreign lands.
Two imperial sailed off Porto Violeto and Abrentopole in 750, headed to the coasts of northern Andolia. The first fleet landed on the sandy shores of what is now the Fhaengshian territory of Ahfeginsi, defeating the Kingdom of Ahfeginsi and annexing its capital Finsi in 751, while the second fleet reached the Islas dell'Annovo in the new year of 753, where the important fortress of Forte Giovanni (modern Islamagna) was founded. One year later, the second expedition reached what is now modern Giovandolia, getting involved in wars against the Ardala Khanate's successor khanates, with the city of Andoliavilla being the first major settlement founded by the Giovannians there. This fleet was led by General Ferenno, later honored when the coast was named after him.
The ensuing decades saw more conflict in northern Andolia. In Fhaengshia, the Giovannian armies stationed advanced southwards, annexing more realms such as the Kingdom of Shihganfe in 758, home to the large religious city of Ganfa as the capital, but in the winter of 762 their advance was stopped by the most powerful state in the area, the Kingdom of Fhaengshia, which was centered on the islands and the capital Fhaendhaw, with some territory in the south as well. General Filippo then sent a letter calling for reinforcements to Emperor Giovanni II, and in October of the same year they arrived from Abrentopole.
After some naval battles near Ruike and the capital Fhaendhaw, King Soetihn agreed to surrender, while Crown Prince Meisinh, the leader of the forces in the Gheffian region, ordered a retreat to the jungles of modern southeast Fhaengshia. The Colony of Fhaengshia (Kolonia de Fensìa) then was established in November of 762 and lasted for more than three centuries, although it originally only included the eastern Fhaengshian coast—the western plateau was originally a different colony, the Highlands Colony (Kolonia dello Planalto) that was founded one decade after, but later included in the modern state due to migration westwards during the Empire's time.
Meanwhile, in modern Giovandolia, the Ardalan successor khanates saw the threat of the invading empire and crafted alliances to resist the imperial expansion. The full conquest of civilizations such as the Ardala, Bereme and Ulerge took several decades to be accomplished and outlasted Giovanni II's reign, though by the time of his death significant advances had been made by the imperial forces. After the arrival into the mainland and the founding of Andoliavilla in 753, expansion continued in the valleys of the Irto River in modern-day northwestern Giovandolia through a series of battles, leading to the area's annexation by 770.
Furthermore, despite initial setbacks suffered by the Giovannian forces, the old Ardalan capital of Altan-qota (Giovannese: Oddabrio) endured a siege of several years, but it ultimately fell and was razed in 778, its riches stolen and brought to Lavender Island. This was a result aided by revolts from subjects of the Ardalans, that were incited by the Giovannians, and led to the annexation of the entire coast of modern Giovandolia, deemed the Colony of Fernando Coast (Kolonia dell'Lido Ferenno), while the native Andolians resisted for longer in the inland valleys and mountains. It was the last expansion of Giovanni II's reign, though the emperor also achieved a significant diplomatic victory in the end of his realm through the signing of the Treaty of Syntilla with Saint Mark, starting a centuries-long collaboration between the two Auran powers that continues to this day. 
Consolidation of the Empire

The administrative divisions (darker green) and colonies (lighter green) of the Giovannian Empire.
[OOC: Article to be continued later]

Going past 16'
 
For the round of 16, Ryxtylopia would be facing off against Dalimbar, a nation that had gone 4th place in group D only winning one match, whilst bearly edging out Libterraria on points, the odds for the Vultures on that regard looked good, since they had gone unbeaten during the groups despite not winning all their matches.
As well as this the ambience for the opposing team would be... hostile to say the least, as fans of Ryxtylopia wanted the team to go on to the next round, instead of exiting the tournament in the round of 16 like in the previous year, where after extra time Ryxtylopia lost to eventual 3rd place winner: Cambria.
However for the players this would also mean a bit more pressure, as if Ryxtylopia exited on the Round of 16 at home it would be a national embarrasment and attacks towards the team lead by Garravez as well as the Dalimbari players could be expected, incidents withing Ryxtylopian football happened often with some of the more infamous moments being:
 
The "I can't hear you!" Incident:
Happened in 1401, during a game between Rio Priava and Bixas, when Bixas defeated Priava at home 5-1, it was then to celebrate the 5th goal that their striker Tarvo Giaxva put both of his hands in his hears, as mockery to the boo's from the crowd, this caused Priava supporters to invade the pitch, which had the match suspended and ended early.
 
The "Upside down U" Incident:
Happened in 1399, in a game between rivals Ystiandes di Ryxtylopia and the University of Ryxenia, Ystiandes had recently beat the U. of Ryxenia 3-2 in a very intense game, and for their next match during the season, fans from Ystiandes hung a very big banner with an upside down U under their drawn mascot, this ended with the internal barriers in the Istadio Carrasoco being broken and a huge brawl ensuing leaving over 30 injured, with the game being cancelled.
 
Libre after relegation:
In 1401, Club Atletico Libre got relegated, by the time they got back to the first division in the following season they would face rivals Diportiva Tsalapaní, in a game that resulted in pure chaos at the Istadio Lybirtad, where Tsalapaní supporters brought a huge banner reading: "RED! Tell me how did it feel playing in the B?" whilst chanting and mocking the local crowd, which ended in a brawl between both sides, injuring around 50 people.
 
The Brivas Bar Affair:
Again involving Bixas and Priava was an affair at a bar in Ryxenia in 1414, where Bixas supporters often gathered to cheer for their team, however after Priava won the game 2-1' their supporters marched to the bar, and started smashing the windows with rocks, attacking Bixas supporters leaving the place, this eventually resulted in police intervention with around 16 injuries.
 
"Bixas you're a ________":
In 1415 during a game between Bixas and Priava, striker Ernysto Guivillana scored a late winner for Priava in the 90th +2nd minute, after which while being interviewed by press he shouted a slur directed towards Bixas fans, this inmediatley got him banned for several months, and the next day his house was raided and trashed by Bixas supporters. Ernysto would be forced to move out of Ryxtylopia due to the hate, whilst Priava supporters will continually back his actions.
 
The "B" incident:
In 1404, Rio Priava dropped for the first time to the second division of Ryxtylopian football, this caused their fans to riot and set fire to the Istadio Franco Rivalda, probably one of the most iconic moments in sporting in this corner of the continent, the next time they saw Bixas in the first division, Bixas supporters prepared to emulate Tsalapaní's mockery of Libre after their relegation, bringing a giant B to the game in the Istadio Arvaldí N. Guivarra, and singing a chant about Priava's time in the "B".
 
All theese incidents were only made worst by "Bands" (basically ultras for ryxtylopian clubs) who harrassed, attacked and mocked eachother to death, part of the reason why Ryxtylopian supporters reffer to themselves as just "The Band" is cause when the national team plays, most of theese rivalries and differences are set aside as all supporters for once head to the stadium wearing the same color and singing the same chants, which was a problem considering many of theese supporters were also known for arousing crowds and being violent.
Due to this, security for the match had already been massivley ramped up, and the players told to expect violence, not only the Ryxtylopians but also this was warned to the Dalimbari players in advance.
 
Meanwhile the team got ready, Garravez decided on the 4-1-3-2 formation, to better handle Dalimbari attacks and hopefully make swift counter-attacks, the players agreed with this for the most part, the lineup could soak up dalimbari pressure on the back and quickly move the ball to the forwards for an attack.
 

 
However the players arrived early at the stadium, and trained, pressure to win the match would be unbelivably high, and whilst the chanting of the crowds could maybe scare the Dalimbaris, if the game was lost the team expected for all out anger to break out.
And as the team arrived to the stadium before the game the hostility in the air was made clear by the crowd outside singing: We have the banners and the drums.
 
 
We have the the banners and the drums:
 
Aquxi i una guirrxa, aquxi i una guirrxa.
Y Ryxtylopia sira primeria.
Tynimvos las bandyras, y lo bombxos tambxién.
Yl Azuil i Amairillo vai volair otrxa vez.
La polixia tonta nai nos vai a detixner.
Ryxtylopia si pripara i nai va a ditiner.
Por qui in iste campó:
Ryxtylopia vai a la guerra con la bandá tambxién.
Aquxi i una guirrxa, aquxi i una guirrxa.
Y Ryxtylopia sira primeria.
Tynimvos las bandyras, y lo bombxos tambxién.
Yl Azuil i Amairillo vai volair otrxa vez.
La polixia tonta nai nos vai a detixner.
Ryxtylopia si pripara i nai va a ditiner.
Por qui in iste campó:
Ryxtylopia vai a la guerra con la bandá tambxién.
 
Here there’s a war, here there’s a war.
And Ryxtylopia will be first.
We have the banners and the drums.
And the Blue and Yellow will fly again.
The dumb police won’t stop us.
Ryxtylopia gets ready, and its not going to stop.
Because in this field:
Ryxtylopia goes to war and the band goes aswell.
Here there’s a war, here there’s a war.
And Ryxtylopia will be first.
We have the banners and the drums.
And the Blue and Yellow will fly again.
The dumb police won’t stop us.
Ryxtylopia gets ready, and its not going to stop.
Because in this field:
Ryxtylopia goes to war and the band goes aswell.
 

The Rise of Necrobotics: Unraveling Saint-Josalyn's Eight-Legged Enigma
"The Rise of Necrobotics: Unraveling Saint-Josalyn's Eight-Legged Enigma"
The city of Saint-Josalyn became a backdrop for the unfolding narrative, as the team grappled with the ethical implications of their work. The once-contained experiment, now a beacon of scientific ambition, raised questions about the responsible advancement of technology and the unforeseen consequences of manipulating nature.
"Unraveling Saint-Josalyn's Eight-Legged Enigma" became a compelling tale of ingenuity, ethical dilemmas, and the relentless pursuit of understanding the intricate dance between biology and robotics. As the necrobotic spiders entered the spotlight, Saint-Josalyn found itself at the crossroads of scientific progress, prompting a reevaluation of the delicate balance between innovation and ethical considerations in the quest for knowledge.
In the discreet confines of Queen's College, nestled in the heart of Saint-Josalyn, a scientific odyssey unfolded, delving into the intersection of cutting-edge research and the enigmatic world of necrobotic spiders. Driven by the relentless pursuit of knowledge, a team of researchers embarked on a groundbreaking experiment that would redefine the boundaries of bioengineering.
At the helm of this venture was Dr. Karl Einarsen, a seasoned entomologist. Guided by his vision, the team, including the formidable Dr. Anu Sildre, a geneticist, and the innovative, Dr. Marek Olsen, set out to unravel the secrets hidden within the realm of necrobotics.
Necrobotics, the fusion of robotics and the study of necrotic spiders, became the focal point of the team's endeavors. The researchers sought to harness the unique attributes of these spiders and integrate them seamlessly with cutting-edge robotic technology.
Within the state-of-the-art laboratories of Queen's College, Dr. Sildre's expertise in genetic manipulation and Dr. Olsen's mastery of robotics converged. The goal was to create a groundbreaking synergy where the innate capabilities of necrotic spiders could be augmented and controlled through meticulous engineering.
As the experiment progressed, the necrobotic spiders, now imbued with enhanced capabilities, underwent rigorous testing. The researchers scrutinized their venomous prowess, adaptability, and intelligence, pushing the boundaries of what was previously thought possible. The laboratory became a crucible of innovation, where the relentless pursuit of knowledge met the tangible realities of arachnid bioengineering.

NEXT MATCH, A TOUGH ONE! CANDELUIANS HAVE TO BE STRONG!
soccer match - Made with PosterMyWall (2).mp4   We DON'T have too much time.



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Hello candeluians, i'm Nico and i'm here to give you every information you might want about today's match for our national players.
The nation that will go against them is from United Adaikes, a nation located in... it was Polaris right, yeah, Polaris.
Last year they were ranked as the 9th place, pretty good if you ask me.
......that's pretty much it, Gabri hasn't got anything more to add to what i said.
We of Tiveronia 'I Zuja are sorry for giving you such a short article, but gave you all the info we had. with this we'll see you tomorrow to give you the results, and as always, Keep Fannin', Football fans!










Lunga Vià al 'emperator!

Continuation of my previous post.
Zou Liqin, Jiang Yunru & Zhong Dongmei are students at Anzhou Medical University. They share a flat in the Mengyao Residential District, 20 minutes away from their university by subway. Zou, Jiang and Dongmei just finished watching the game against Cambria.
Dongmei: "That was..."
Yunru: "Bori-"
Liqin: "THAT WAS INCREDIBLE!"
Yunru: "Yeah... that's definitely what I was going to say."
Liqin: "YUNRU, YOU DONT UNDERSTAND! Cambria haven't lost a single game yet! We were the only ones to kick their a-"
Dongmei: "Yeah... It was pretty cool... I didn't realise how much people take it seriously..."
Yunru: "People take it too seriously if you ask me..."
Liqin: "It's just a bit of fun! Plus, you should be proud of your country for winning!"
Yunru: "It's... a little hard to be excited about the football after what's happening in Fuzhou..."
The room goes quiet.
Liqin: "Have you... heard from your sister?"
Yunru: "Yeah... she's okay, though my family's pottery workshop has been pretty much destroyed"
Dongmei: "Oh... I'm sorry..."
The room goes quiet again.
Yunru: "Anyway... I didn't mean to kill the mood... I suppose on the bright side, the Navy are allowing my father to come home early to be with the rest of my family back home."
Dongmei: "He was involved in the conflict with Fauthur, right?"
[Context: Earlier in the year, a Sekiyan naval force sent to calm tensions was attacked off the coast of Aftokratoria]
Liqin: "I don't know if I'd call it a conflict. But-"
Yunru: "Yeah, he was. It was pretty scary when I saw the news.."
Dongmei: "Wow, that's a lot to go through in a year, I'm glad everyone's okay"
Yunru: "Yeah, I suppose... Anyway, we should probably clear up our mess."
Liqin: "Wanna continue cellars and fellas later?"
Dongmei: "Absolutely!"
Yunru: Happier "You... mean it?"
Liqin: "Yeah, why not!"


Two of the popular adverts to release for the Sekiyan Maritime Force (Yǒngguó Hǎishì Lìliàng) following its engagement with Fauthur.
 

National Stadium,10.30 PM
GOALLL,Arifiyyah National Stadium echoed with shouts of goals after Muhammad Nazhim scored the goal 2nd goal against Pedandria. "First of all, I would like to thank the main organizer of the live broadcast of the world cup premiere, the Ministry of Youth, Sports and Culture. Thank you also to all the attendees who livened up the atmosphere. Alhamdulillah, thank God for the victory of all the group stage matches. I would like to announce my intention to bring everyone in attendance tonight to witness the knockout match at Ryxtylopia." Sultan Arif said. The next day,the Chairman of State before His Majesty the Sultan at the Arifiyyah Grand Palace. 
10.00 am, Arifiyyah Grand Palace 
Tan Sri Rais, Chairman of States who has been in office for almost two terms, sat on the sofa facing the Sultan, "Why did Your Majesty call me here?" Sultan Arif replied casually,"I want to take you to Ryxtylopia once. You and Dato Isma." Tan Sri Rais replied, "Thank you for your offer, but won't I be assigned to take care of the country if you go abroad?" The Sultan replied, "You must not read the Constitution to the end (with a laughing tone). Just follow us, MPM will be guided by the Keeper of the King's Seal to protect the country. After all, we may have the opportunity to hold a meeting with the leaders of Aura to discuss the Trans-Auran high speed railway prpject which is delayed. They must be interested." He continued, "After all, you are a person who always works hard. You need to rest. When I asked you to get married, you said there was no candidate. I also don't want to mess with your personal affairs.
After about two hours of traveling by air, Sultan Arif carried his son, Ali Nazhim and moved to the hotel with more than 100 entourage members.
 
HIS MAJESTY SULTAN ARIF NAZHIM SHAH CARRYING HRH TENGKU MAHKOTA RAJA TENGKU ALI NAZHIM, ACCOMPANIED BY HIS ROYAL ASSISTANT,THE CHAIRMAN OF STATES AND 100 ARIFIANS AT THE RYXTYLOPIA INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT 

The match kicked off with immense anticipation as Larxia faced Alchera in a crucial fixture to solidify their position in the World Cup. Alchera came out firing on all cylinders, displaying an unexpectedly aggressive offense that put Larxia's defense under immense pressure. The underdogs stunned the crowd by breaking the deadlock in the 30th minute, slotting a clinical goal past Larxia's goalkeeper with a swift counterattack. Larxia, stunned by the setback, struggled to find their rhythm as Alchera maintained their lead going into halftime. Despite Larxia's efforts to regain control, they entered the break trailing 1-0.
As the second half commenced, Larxia came out with renewed determination and urgency. They began to dictate the tempo of the game, dominating possession and creating several promising opportunities. The breakthrough for Larxia finally arrived in the 55th minute when Garcia found himself in a perfect position inside the box, receiving a pinpoint cross and confidently volleying the ball into the net, leveling the score at 1-1. Energized by the equalizer, Larxia continued to press forward, displaying a relentless attacking display. In the 75th minute, Cristian Aviero showcased his exceptional skill, dribbling past defenders and curling a magnificent shot from outside the box into the top corner, giving Larxia a crucial 2-1 lead.
The final whistle blew, signaling Larxia's hard-fought comeback victory against a resilient Alchera. The stadium erupted in cheers as Larxia secured a vital win, securing their spot in the Round of 16. The dramatic turnaround showcased Larxia's resilience and determination, overcoming adversity to clinch the victory. The fans celebrated, acknowledging the team's efforts in staging an impressive comeback. This victory solidified Larxia's position as the third team in the group, and they eagerly awaited their next challenge in the knockout stages of the World Cup, buoyed by their remarkable comeback and eyeing further success on their journey.
Following their thrilling comeback victory against Alchera, Larxia's next challenge in the Round of 16 awaits them in the form of the formidable nation of Aukera. Aukera, having clinched the second position in their group, has been on an incredible run in the World Cup, showcasing exceptional form and determination throughout the tournament. Their impressive performances have caught the attention of football enthusiasts worldwide, making them a team to watch out for in the knockout stages. As Larxia prepares for this pivotal clash, they anticipate a fierce battle against Aukera.

Over the Gulf, 06:35
In the side rush of dawn, the distant peaks glowed pink, like some travesty of a fondant cake. Hard shadows infilled the cavities like ink. Streamers of white cloud strung out in the freezing air, 2000 metres below.
Nock Leader was just a cruciform speck in the bright air ahead. He started to turn, ten degrees to the north-west. Òmah tilted the stick, following, rolling. The horizon swung up and the world moved around. Slowly, slowly. He heard the knocking sound and ignored it. At least the inclinometer was still working. As he came around and levelled the column, Òmah reached forward and flicked the brass dial of the fuel gauge again. It still read full, which couldn’t be right. They’d been up for forty-eight minutes. He took off a gauntlet and flicked the gauge once more with his bare fingers. He felt sure the lined mitten had been dulling his blows.
The dial remained at full.
He saw how pinched and blue his hand had become, and pulled the gauntlet back on quickly. It felt balmy in his insulated flightsuit, but the cabin temp read minus eight. There was no sound, except for the background roar of the engine. Òmah looked up and around, remembering to maintain his visual scanning. Just sky. Sundogs flaring in his visor. Nock Three just abeam of him, a silhouette, trailing vapour. The altimeter read 2800 metres.
The radio gurgled. “Nock Leader to Nock Flight. One pass West and we turn for home. Keep formation tight."  They made another lazy roll. The landscape rose up in his port vision. Òmah saw brittle flashes of light far below. Artillery fire on the islands.
He heard the knocking again. It sounded as if someone was crouching behind the frame of his armoured seat, tapping the spars with a hammer. These engines always made a burbling, flatulent noise, but this didn’t seem right to him.
He keyed his radio. "Nock Leader, this is Nock Four. I’ve–" There was a sudden, loud bang. The channel squealed like a stabbed pig.
The world turned upside down.
"Oh throne! Oh crap! Oh shit!” a voice was shouting. Òmah realised it was his own.
G-force pummelled him. His P7E Firebird was tumbling hard. Light and dark, sky and land, up and over, up and over. Òmah choked back nausea and throttled down desperately. The radio was incoherent with frantic chatter.
"Nock Four! Nock Four!"
Òmah regained control and levelled. He had lost at least a thousand metres. He got the horizon true and looked around in the vain hope of seeing someone friendly. Then he cried out involuntarily as something fell past his nosecone.
It was another Firebird, one wing shorn off in a cascade of torn struts and body plate. Flames were sucking back out of its air intakes. It arced down and away like a comet, trailing smoke as it went spinning towards the ground. It became a speck. A smaller speck. A little blink of light. Òmah felt his guts tighten and acid frothed inside him. Fear, like a stink, permeated the little cockpit. Something else flashed past him.
Just a glimpse, moving so fast. There and gone. A memory of black wings.
"Nock Four! Break! Break and turn! There’s one right on you!"
Òmah leaned on the stick and kicked the rudder. The world rolled again. He put his nose up and throttled hard. The Firebird bucked angrily and the knocking came again. Throne of Stars. He’d thought his bird had malfunctioned, but it wasn’t that at all. They’d been stung. He leant forward against the harness and peered out of his cockpit dome. The aluminum skin of his right wing was holed and torn. Night’s teeth, he’d been shot.
He pushed the stick forward to grab some speed, then turned out left in a hard climb.
The dawn sky was full of smoke: long strings of grey vapour and little black blooms that looked like dirty cotton. Nock Flight’s formation had broken apart and they were scattering across the heavens.
Òmah couldn’t even see the bats.
No, that wasn’t true. He made one, bending in to chase Nock Five, tracer fire licking from its guns.  He rolled towards it, flipping the scope of his reflector sight into position before resting his thumb on the stick-top stud that activated the quad cannons in the nose.
The bat danced wildly across the glass reticule of the gunsight. It refused to sit. Òmah cursed and began to utter a prayer to the sun to lift his wings and make his aim true. He waggled the stick, pitching, rolling, trying to correct, but the more he tried, the more the bat slipped wildly off the gunsight to one side or the other.
There was a little smoky flash ahead, and suddenly Òmah's Firebird was riding through a horizontal pelt of black rain.
No. Not rain. Oil. Then debris. Pieces of glittering metal, buckled machine parts, shreds of aluminum. Òmah cried out in surprise as the oil washed out his forward view. He heard the pattering impact of the debris striking off his nose plate and wing faces. The bat had chalked Nock Five and Òmah was running in through the debris stream. Any large piece of wreckage would hole him and kill him as surely as cannon-fire. And if so much as a screw went down the intake of his engine…
Òmah wrenched on the stick and came nose-up. Light returned as he came out of the smoke belt, and slipstream flowed the oil away off his canopy. It ran in quivering lines, slow and sticky, like blood.
Almost immediately, he had to roll hard to port to avoid hitting another Firebird head on. He heard a strangled cry over the radio. The little dark interceptor filled his field of view for a second and then was gone back over his shoulder.
His violent roll had been too brutal. He inverted for a moment and struggled to right himself as the hills spread out overhead. That knocking again. That damn knocking. He was bleeding speed now, and the experimental engines of the P7E had a nasty habit of flaming out if it struggled too hard. He began to nurse it up and round, gunning the engine as hard as he dared. Two planes rushed by, so fast he didn’t have time to determine their type, then another three went perpendicular across his bow. They were all Firebirds. One was venting blue smoke in a long, chuffing plume.
"Nock Leader! Nock Leader!" Òmah called.
Two of the Firebirds were already climbing away out of visual. The sun blinded him. The third, the wounded bird, was diving slowly, scribing the sky with its smoke.
He saw the bat clearly then.
At his two, five hundred metres, dropping in on the Firebird it had most likely already mauled. For the first time in his four weeks of operational flying, Òmah got a good look at the elusive foe. It resembled his plane, superficially, the cockpit set far back above the drive at the point where the bow of the blade-wings met. A jet interceptor, the cream of the enemy air force. In the dispersal room briefs, they’d talked about these killers being dirt brown or green, but this was pearl-white, like ice, like alabaster. The canopy was tinted black, like a dark eye-socket in a polished skull.
Òmah had expected to feel fear, but he got a thrill of adrenaline instead. He leaned forward, hunched down in the Firebird’s armoured cockpit, and opened the throttle, sweeping in on the bat’s five. It didn’t appear to have seen him. It was lining up, leisurely, on the wounded plane.
He flipped the toggle switch. Guns live.
Closing at three hundred metres. Òmah rapidly calculated his angle of deflection, estimated he’d have to lead his shot by about five degrees. Reverent eye, he had it…
He thumbed the firing stud. The Firebird shuddered slightly as the cannons lit up. He saw flashflames licking up from under the curve of the nose cone. He heard and felt the thump of the breechblocks.
The bat had gone.
He came clear, pulling a wide turn at about two hundred and seventy kilometres an hour. The engagement had been over in an instant. Had he killed it? He sat up into the clear blister of the canopy like an animal looking out of its burrow, craning around. If he’d hit it, surely there would be smoke? The only smoke he could see was about a thousand metres above in the pale blue sky where the main portion of the dogfight was still rolling.
He turned. First rule of air combat: take a shot and pull off. Never stick with a target, never go back. That made you a target. But still he had to know. He had to.
He dipped his starboard wing, searching below for a trace of fire.  Nothing.
Òmah levelled off.
And there it was. Right alongside him.
He cried out in astonishment. The bat was less than a wing’s breadth away, riding along in parallel with him. There was not a mark on its burnished white fuselage.  It was playing with him.
Panic rose inside pilot cadet Zhep det Òmah. He knew his valiant little Firebird could neither outrun nor out-climb the enemy's craft. He throttled back hard, and threw on his speed brakes, hoping the sudden manoeuvre would cause the big machine to overshoot him.
For a moment, it vanished. Then it was back, on his other side, copying his brake-dive. Òmah swore.. He was so close to it that he could see the jet nozzles on the belly under the blade-wings. It could out-dance any prop craft, climbing, braking, even slowing to a near-stall.
Òmah refused to accept he was out-classed, refused to admit he was about to die. He twisted the stick, kicked the rudder right over and went into the deepest dive he dared execute. Any deeper, and the Firebird's wings would shear off its airframe. The world rushed up, filling his vision. He heard the air screaming. He saw the glory of the land ascending to meet him. His land. His home. The home he had joined up to save. Behind him, the pearl-white enemy machine tucked in effortlessly and followed him down. 

Gobyrno di la Fidiraxión di Ryxtylopia
Government of the Ryxtylopian Federation
 
Present - Wednesday, November 29th of the year 1423.
This is an OFFICIAL STATEMENT, conducted by the Ryxtylopian government, directed to all foreign governments and international press.
 
This document has the porpuse of recognizing the November 28th incident, with demonstrators, who acted with extreme violence against the police force, and goverment security forces, with the demonstrators having the intention of conducting a march to the Istadio Franco Rivalda down Oraiva road.
This incident has resulted in 30 injured as well as this during the demonstration, protesters revealed concealed firearms forcing police to fire warning shots to disperse the crowd, no confirmed deaths have come from this demonstration despite the gunshots fired.
It is important to note that the civil unrest is now dying down, as per the present date, and this is expected to be one of the last instances of unrest throught the rest of the tournament, law enforcement has been focused on protecting the stadiums and tourists from any harm that may come their way.
 
Whilst we are confident that the wave of unrest is about to end we still URGE foreigners to take measures mainly:
-Stick to venue areas or visit: [Insert Generic Government Website.gov] for more information on tourist sites, as well to avoid any possible trouble.
-When going around venue cities, read more information about certain areas, and stick to law enforcement.
-Stick to using the transport system set up for this tournament, information about bus routes and where to find taxis can be found at: [Insert Generic Government Website.gov].
-Excersice increased levels of caution during the lead-up to games.
 
Whilst the unrest has stopped in most cities, in Ryxenia we also issue travell warnings to the neighborhoods of:
Tirvixas
Itsía
Vilpilanda
Xatachamá
La Alíga
Corvaitxe
San Yrvias
 
Names highlighted in red have very high risk, as such we recommend avoding them at all costs
Names highlighted in yellow have considerable risk, we recommend avoding them or excersicing increased caution when visiting or passing by those neighborhoods.
 
For more travell information please visit [Insert Generic Government Website.gov].
 
Apart from this, any matches or activies related to the tournament will not be affected, the scheduled matches will remain unchanged, for further details you can contact the Deparment of Internal Security or the Ryxenia Police Department at: [Insert Generic Government Website.gov].

A Loss in the group stage, but a big win in the competition!

"Hello again Tiveria i' Zuja readers! I'm Gabri and i'm here in Ryxtylopia to talk about the ongoing World Cup of Football! And alone again, woo.
Yesterday our national team played against last year's first place, and lost by 2-0, sadly!
There're good news though! Thanks to the past wins and draws, our team was able to get into the elimination stage! Amazing!
The first elimination group match will be against last year's 9th place! UA! or apparently, United Adaikes? woah, didn't know UA was an abreviation, incredible!
We'll make another article tomorrow with more the infos of the next match, our graphic designers are still working on it!
For now, me, with all the candeluian fans here can't wait for the next match! We'll see you tomorrow and as Nico says, Fannin' keep, Fans of the Ball with the foot!"









Lunga Vià al 'emperator!