Time: Sunset
Weather: Warm, the day was oppressively hot and the sky was clear. Despite it being sunset, the air still feels sticky warm but it is much cooler than it has been the entire day.

This is the Quidditch Match between Durmstrang and Hufflepuff. This match will be modded by @Neculai Lazar, an experienced moderator. This will be the first game involving some system expansions, so please give Neculai clear instructions regarding the actions performed and endeavor to have a great game.

To make things easier for him:

• Please submit your actions as soon as possible.
• Please post your in character post on time. You have 1 week (to the hour) of his moderation to post.
• Please respect his time and do not post after the deadline.
• If you are willing, spoiler/place in your signature your stats and broom for his moderation ease. The more places you have this, the easier the moderation is for him.
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• Remember in games your word counts are reduced to 50 words for the speed of posting. This does not mean you cannot write large, wonderful and thoughtful posts. In fact, you are encouraged to do so. But for those with limited time, to keep things going, your word count minimums are substantially reduced for the sake of speed.

This thread is for the players of this game only. Feel free to subscribe to this topic if you wish to follow the game. A spectator thread will also be available to those that wish to watch the game. Please remember the rules for spectator threads - players in spectator threads cannot interface with the players in the actual Quidditch Match (and vice versa). You can see once another, but you cannot tell someone that the other team cheated or where the Quaffle is and have that enhance their chances in any way. You are a distant spectator. A face that the players might see in a crowd, but you have no way of communicating with them nor can you cast any spells to aide them in their game.

If you have any questions, please feel free to reach out to any staff member of our moderation or Administrative team.

Spectator Thread

Mentioning @Flash Holmwood @Sylvain Indarys and the entire Quidditch Team

Today was the fateful day.

The one that had been in the back of Willow's mind ever since it was announced to the Hufflepuff Quidditch team that they would be representing all of Hogwarts against Durmstrang. Ever since that day she had been trying to do research on the school but largely came up with nothing since they were so secretive, but she had a basic idea of just how disciplined they were. She had no doubt in her mind that their Quidditch team could stand up to it, especially with their win-loss ratio from this year. Even though she had only joined in for the last official match of the year she had quickly found her place among her teammates and the small family that they had created together. Spending their summer in the tent together only helped to increase and bonding and sense of camaraderie as a team, not that it really needed work. They were Hufflepuffs after all.

Willow's long wavy blonde hair was tied back into her normal two tight braids that she did for the match to keep it out of her face with minimal risk of it coming undone if she had to do some quick flying. She wore her house colors with as much pride as she could muster. While they were representing Hogwarts, they still were repping that badger pride. It somehow gave her more confidence that she was covered in yellow and black. The Hufflepuff house had truly become a second home and family to her, and she wanted to make them proud most of all.

Durmstrang entered first, the roar of the crowd absolutely deafening compared to what she was used to at the Hogwarts games. It wasn't long before she mounted her newly gifted Nimbus 1500 and headed out for their initial lap around the stadium. Her nerves, as always, were a bundle built within the depth of her stomach that seemed surrounded by walls that were so sturdy they could never come down. However, the thing that made them crumble to dust was flight. As she made her lap around her eyes quickly scanned the Hogwarts crowd for her two best friends. "There!" She spotted Flash and Sylvain, probably her two biggest fans even if they weren't part of her house. A bright smile filled her face as she waved and blew a kiss their way. Something she did during her first game that she wanted to keep as a first lap ritual. She saw it as a way of connecting with her friends and keeping their love, confidence, and pride for her in her heart. She needed it now more than ever.

As they finished their lap and took up their positions, she closed her eyes. A small prayer was made to her God and Goddess, a couple of deep breaths, settling and grounding herself despite being so high up in the air. When her eyes opened there was a new look in them. One of determination, and a bright fire for competition.

Nothing could stop her now.

Action || In position ready to do as strategized

Stats and Broom

Reducio

Stamina: 6 / Evasion: 5 / Strength: 4 / Wisdom: 8 / ArcPower: 6 / Accuracy: 7

Nimbus 1500 || In the role of Keeper when you attempt to block your goal, if your opponent somehow has advantage on attempting to score a goal, that is negated (they only have their normal single roll against you).

Action:
Staying in position, primed to do as strategized

Broom:
Silver Arrow

Keen Eye Ability:
10% chance to automatically identify the location of the snitch during Quidditch.

Statistics:
STA 6 (+3) ✦ EVA 6 (+3) ✦ STR 2 (+3) ✦ WIS 10 (+3) ✦ ARC 1 (+3) ✦ ACC 10 (+3)

Valentin's Biography: LINK

Donning her Hufflepuff uniform with pride, Serena entered the pitch with the team. They flew onto it, taking their lap and getting into position. "Woah... This is... Sh-" She exhaled, running a hand over her head. It stopped at the back of her head, scratching it as she looked around. There must have been thousands of seats. Of course, not every single was full but... This was far bigger than the pitch at Hogwarts. Hovering there, in the middle of a hurdle of Hufflepuffs, looking around and staring at how gigantic the pitch really was was kind of intimidating, in all honesty.

It never went sunk in until this very moment. They were the Hogwarts Champions. They were here representing hundreds of other students in the International Tournament. Mashing a hand against the handle of her broom, she searched the crowds for familiar faces - any sign of comfort. Her gaze landed on a few friends, housemates and professors among the crowds of unfamiliar faces. A nervous smile appeared on her lips. It was nice to have their support and familiar faces around but it was also just so overwhelming. This was not like playing against another house. This was a whole different level. Durmstrang were known to take their sports seriously, far more seriously than Hogwarts perhaps.

Serena had absolutely no idea what the team was like but she knew they would be good. The thought of that was... well it was kind of nerve-wrecking in all honesty. Letting out a puff of air, she tried to ease her growing nerves. Both hands tightly gripped the broom as though she would fall if she let go, staring intently at the tip of it as she tried to calm herself.

She was lucky. Not many people played in such a stadium, especially not as students. This stadium was usually reserved for games like the World Cup. But this week, they were opened to a select group of students. This was an achievement. Whether or not she ever played professionally, after today she could say she played at the London Quidditch Stadium. Looking up to the sky, she observed how clear it was. It was sunset but it was still rather warm. It was light though... And as she knew - oh so well - the light was healing, protecting and safe.

"You can do this..." She whispered to herself, staring at the clear sky above her before taking in the stadium again. She spotted a few people that were always there. Some friends that supported the her or the team, no matter what house they were. Her brother was there too. Of course, he was not supporting Hogwarts but... he was still there, watching her. She had to show him that she could play, right? Prove him wrong, if nothing else. Her eyebrows raised as her gaze fell onto her head of house. He was not normally at the game, was he? At least, she could not recall seeing him before.

She was her own light. That was what he told her. To remember that, as it would light the path for others as well. Nodding to herself, she exhaled again - doing her best to ignore the twisting sensation in her stomach and the nerves that were surging through her body. She swallowed. Tugging on her ponytail, she made sure it was secure. The last thing she wanted was her hair to come loose. Whatever happened today, all she had to do was to do her best, right? Win or lose, all she had to do was enjoy the moment. This moment might never happen again.

ACTION: Whatever Captain Healy / Co-Captain Jones tells me to do~

FOR MOD - Stats:

Reducio

POSITION:

Seeker: First-String

STATISTICS:

Stamina: 7 (+3) = 10
Evasion: 10 + (3) = 13
Strength: 1+ (3) = 4
Wisdom: 11 + (3)  = 14
Arcane Power: 4 + (3) = 7
Accuracy: 10 + (3) =13

BROOM:

Silver Arrow
Handmade by Leonard Jewkes and can reach speeds of 68 mph. 
Stats: +3 to every stat [Added above for ease]

ABILITIES:

Race: Part-Goblin
Abilities: Evasive Maneuvers

Calling all Team Durmstrang Members!

The day that we have been waiting for for months has arrived. I almost never thought that we would make it, what with rumours and hearsay of unfortunate events happening in London recently. Nevertheless, we are here, and I am intent on helping to drive my team towards victory against these badgers. Hanzo and I have worked far too hard in conditioning these members and helping them to push beyond their own boundaries for us to fall so close to final victory. It has been an honor to work with such dedicated individuals; individuals who wish to succeed and who work to earn what is given to them; individuals who deserve the world and more.

We are lined up, ready to fly out over the screaming crowd; members of London, Iceland, Durmstrang and Hogwarts alike all gathered together in an overheated mass named the London Quidditch Stadium. This is an event that they will remember for years to come; an event to keep in the history books. An event that I am going to be part of and remembered for, capable of looking back upon it-- my own legacy.

The day was warm, uncomfortable, even, but with conditioning-- eat right, sleep right, drink right-- my team will not succumb to the elements. The focus among the other team may falter, and it will be Durmstrang's best interest to exploit that weakness early on. Now the sun has fallen, and the moon is making its rise. It is still warm, but temperate, reminiscent of Italy in the Autumn. This is my weather. The weather that I and my twin have thrived in as young children. I know that he's here, somewhere in the crowd, his screams and shouts of support echoing alongside Maddie's as they cheer me on. I smile.

"Let's show them what we're made of, Durmstrang! For Victory!" I shout, doing my best to overcome the screaming of both the crowd and the booming voice of the announcer. I strike the handle of my Moontrimmer on the ground, causing it to echo in the way that we practice with our staves before tapping it a few more time in quick succession to the beat of a war shanty. When thoroughly pleased with the morale of the team, I mount my broom and then do a couple of quick maneuvers, final warmups for my Keeper position. "You know your jobs, Durmstrang! Let's make a night they won't forget! It's been an honor."

I dip my head in a bow towards Hanzo, Der Niffler, and the rest of the team. Anticipation rising and determination settling into my adrenaline-filled focus, I zoom out over the Pitch, threading myself through the Keeper hoops once in my entrance show-off. Once, twice, thrice, I thread the needle, before engaging in a brief starfish and stick, leaning mostly off of my broom and using centrifugal force to spin myself like a danseur. The glittering number 4 gleams in embossed gold on my back, testifying my number and my Keeper position.

With a final flourish, I gently sail about the three rings, my fingers curling about the broom handle. Watching the scarlet ball with patient eyes, I am no longer distracted or flamboyant.

I'm ready to play.

Doing as Strategized

Edit- Since other people are putting OOC notes on languages, I think I should too.
Romeo knows English, Italian, Latin, and a smattering of Russian (He's still learning...)

[font=century gothic]INTERACTING WITH @Rafael D'Spacito (Hanzo), [DURMSTRANG TEAM] | MENTIONS @Thomas Lestrange (Ella), @Piérre Marchonné (Romeo), @Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood (Der Niffler)[/font]

It was game day, and what a glorious one it was. Although the July 16th afternoon had been swelteringly hot, the temperature had come down dramatically as evening encroached. There was still a certain heat to the air, one that made clothing stick to flesh and provided the apt reminder that the height of summer was yet to come; but the humidity, at least, was no different from home. If anything, it was a welcome familiarity. Plus, up in the air, with the wind whipping at break neck speeds aboard her broom, Greta wasn't likely to notice the discomfort for long.

[In Norwegian] "Å være på pletten, Hanzo."

It was a partially incomplete sentiment, and one that she had taken to offering her brother whenever they were right about to start a match. The only thing she ever said before a match. When taken literally, it meant "to be on the spot", but its meaning was more about being where and when one was supposed to be. It was her quietly uttered prayer, her firm request, as well as her promise of resolution. It was the unspoken understanding that from their years of growing up together playing and flying, that although they might bicker and argue off of the pitch, in the air was another matter. They were uniquely suited to their variety of teamwork, able to understand each other with barely more than a shared glance, and able to predict each other's actions and reactions. The sky was their domain. The quaffle was their possession. Hers and Hanzo's (and Espen's).

Now was the time to demonstrate to the British institution which of the two were better disciplined. Which of the two bodies of academia reared the stronger students.

Tiny she might have been, standing barely over four feet, four inches, but stature mattered little when the sky was the limit. There was no room for negotiation in Greta's mind. She had taken the day to prepare, going through her typical ritual of resolution. Waist length locks of wavy dirty-blonde hair had been combed and tamed. The task had been a time-consuming ordeal, one that culminated with a large Dutch braid that traversed from crown to the nape of her neck, combining with four smaller Dutch braids from her temples (two to either side) before being woven together to completion. It was a necessity if she was to prevent her generally untamed mane from impeding her vision in flight. Not to mention, it became almost meditative, the repetitive task allowing her to fall into a state of tempered concentration in preparation for the match. She'd even extended her ritual to include Ella as well, doing her friend's hair similarly to her own.

For Greta, however, her hair was only the first step. The second came with the application of her war paint. Quidditch was a battle. One that tested the physioemotional capacities of all of those involved. On the ground, she was all too aware of just how invisible she could be, her tendency to shy away from interaction in no way helping to compensate for her small size. Her lack of assertion and confidence was not something that boded well on the field. She had to have the ability to drive forward, seize opportunities, and advocate for herself when needed. She had to be able to go toe to toe with her adversaries. To do what it took for her team to earn their victory, whatever was demanded of her by her Captains. The paint helped her to step into that role. Its transformative powers changed her from Hanzo's little sister, to the fearsome chaser that was Greta Fransson. By the end of today's match, there would be none at the Pigmole school that would question her ability.

Shortly after, they were ushered to mount their brooms in preparation of their entry. Nearby, Romeo said...something... that Greta didn't quite understand. Not that she invested much effort into attempting to puzzle it out. Her focus was ahead, on the opening to the pitch. On the feel of the polished handle of Sleipnir, her Silver Arrow. On the growing roar of the crowd beyond the veil, anxious for the game to start. On the beating of her heart drumming out a rhythm for their war. On the controlled expansion and relaxation of her chest. She had registered one of the words, however.

Victory.

"Seier!" she echoed in Norwegian, kicking off as it all began to race alongside her brother and Ella and the rest.

Her expression collected without a shred of emotion, she lapped the pitch, getting a feel for the air currents and cross-winds. She ignored the announcer. Ignored the crowd. They were unnecessary distractions. There was only one thing on her mind: the Quaffle. More specifically, careening it through any one of the hoops through which she swiftly wove during her lap in order to gain as many points for her team as she was able. To buy Der Niffler as great a cushion of a lead as possible so that he could hunt without added pressure. With the sun descending below the crest of the horizon, the sky had been painted in shades of red and gold. Durmstrang and Hogwarts. What a fitting canvas for the battle that was about to commence.

Action: Getting into position | Doing as Strategized

Nervousness was never really a big thing in Jack's life. Confidence was always his most significant personality trait, while also his biggest flaw( aside from being a royal butthead). Jack had only been a witness for the other Hufflepuff victories at Hogwarts, but being at this large stage was something else.

Casually floating up to the Hufflepuff Keeper, Willow, Jack gave a playful jab to her shoulder. "This is pretty crazy, innit?" An excited grin crossed the boy's face as he lazily floated near his 'friend.' "Don't mess up. I'll be watchin' ya'" The boy gave parting wave and a saucy wink, before doing his final lap around the pitch.

With an extraordinary amount of being extra, Jack tried to make a spectacle of most things he did. He wouldn't be able to make a good showing during the game, but at least he could do something notable beforehand. Rocketing up into the air, the boy pointed the tip of his Nimbus 1500 into the air. Moving directly upward, the boy decided that he would try a stall flip. He had been practicing it for a while, but now it was time to show off. Hooking his legs around the broom, Jack tilted backward with arms outstretched. After tumbling back over his head, he quickly took control of the broom once more, before gracefully returning to an upright position. The was no chance Jack was going to play today, so he might as well make a scene before he had to sit on the bench.

Moments later, Jack was back at the bench with the others. Giving a slight nod towards Rosie, Jack planted his butt on the bench. It was going to be a great game to watch, and now it was time to just sit back and relax.

Action:Show off, then take a place on the bench

Posting as Durmstrang NPC Yefim Rumyantsev ◇ Text color: #800040 ◇ Fourth-string Chaser

Reducio

Action: Benched and cheering on team

Interacting with: Gummy worms
Mentioning: @Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood(Valentin "Der Niffler" Schnell) @Percival Rainwood(Mikael Halldorsen) @Piérre Marchonné(Romeo Marchonné), puny Hufflepuff losers

Open to interaction

OOC note: Teammates of Yefim would know he can only speak Russian

Reducio

Stats:
Sta: 6 (7) ✦ Wis: 3
Eva: 5 (6) ✦ AP: 4
Str: 10 ✦ Acc: 7 (9)
Ability: Martial Artist

Position:Fourth-string Chaser
Broom: Comet 180 +2 accuracy, +1 evasion, +1 stamina

───※ ·❆· ※───
Interacting with @Ruby Cazares (Vyacheslav Preobrazhensky)
@Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood (Valentin Schnell)

The Russian boy with ash-blond hair entered the field along with his so-called teammates, all he could hear was the roaring cheers of countless people in the stadium. Kolya never liked to be in the crowd, he always preferred to the quietness and to be alone but today would be different in that case. He had no choice because they were about to face the Quidditch team from Hogwarts. Ah yes...the famous British Wizarding School, he did hear a lot about this chaotic and "good for nothing" Hogwarts and he recently learned from his mother that a certain "blood traitor" from the Edelhardt family spawned a Half-blood with a Muggle (although he was indifferent towards Muggles and Muggle-borns), currently a student in Hogwarts. The fact that knowing he had a distant Half-blood cousin all this time made his skin crawl with disgust and anger. If he ever found out that they were among the Hogwarts Quidditch team, he would make sure to destroy them completely without mercy.

Never show mercy to your enemies.

That was what his father used to tell him since he was a little kid, and he definitely would do that. He once showed weakness before and paid the ultimate price of losing his left eye.

Even with one eye, he was still able to see their rival team across the field in front of them wearing in the color of bright yellow. Hufflepuff? Kolya frowned, he couldn't believe the Hogwarts's champion team was not the rumored fierce Lions, the cunning Snakes or the inventive Eagles but instead...a bunch of soft Badgers?

Letting out a sigh, it didn't matter to Kolya anymore who their rivals were and he would never let his guard down even if they were weak. He didn't just join the Quidditch team for fun, he picked the Beater role for a reason because this was the most destructive role where he could unleash his wrath. He turned to look at the other Beater who often showed his arrogance with that annoying smile on his face, "Тебе лучше не позволять своей самоуверенности тащить нас вниз, Преображенский (Translation: You better not let your overconfidence drag us down, Preobrazhensky.)." Kolya spoke to him in Russian with a very firm tone. He might not show it on his face but he did have some respect for his fellow Beater and he only tolerated a few teammates that were at least not a Half-blood. There was another one who somehow intrigued him the most, it was their albino Seeker, "Der Niffler". To Kolya, that boy was really an odd one, acted as if he would really do anything for his team. It was an admirable act, to be honest. Quite similar to how he would do anything for his own family and today, he would do whatever it took to prove his worth.

When Kolya walked right beside "Der Niffler", he whispered to him in German, "Sei vorsichtig. (Translation: Be careful.). Without looking back to see the albino's reaction, he commanded his broom in his hand and getting himself into position up in mid-air.

The One-Eyed Beater of Durmstrang was more than ready to destroy the Badgers with his unpredictable strength and secure the victory for his team.

Action: Getting into position & doing as Strategized.

Stamina: 7 (10)
Evasion: 10 (13)
Strength: 10 (13)
Wisdom: 2 (5)
Arcane Power: 2 (5)
Accuracy: 10 (13)

Broom: Silver Arrow [+3 to every stat during Quiddtich Game]
Abilities: Evasive Maneuvers & Broken Broomshaft
OOC Note: Kolya can speak Russian, English, German and French.