Third International Chess Championships (IC/Results)

by **Karditan** » Tue Jan 01, 2013 9:34 pm

Welcome to Karditan! The dean of the Karditani Institute of Technology is thrilled the world's best of Chess will be gracing the halls of his institution. In this thread, you can post roleplays relating to the tournament (your grandmaster's experiences [past and present--even future if you're careful], fans watching/cheering/discussing/getting drunk and rioting, etc) that will increase the chances (not guarantee) of your entrant succeeding.

Entrant biographies (which should be respected in roleplays--contradicting them can yield and OOC discussion can be found here.

Groups were randomized using the randomize function in xkorinate (put everyone in one big group, randomize a few times, and use the resulting order to create the groups).
Group 1
Peregrine Konstantinovich
Victoria Valdemar
Alphonse Vrbas

Group 2
Bob
Raymond Yarsley
Mr Amor

Group 3
Rook Slide
Tyrece Harrison
Izziah Koggenspire
I just don't know what went wrong

Group 4
Shiro Suzuki
Fer von Sparó
Joseph Van Holland

Group 5
Joseph Edwards
Motzur Cellius
Adam Smithson

Group 6
Kolb Gunt
Roberto Pescador
Stewart Perrault

At the end of the groups stage, all first-place participants automatically advance. The best two second-placed participants will advance; if all tiebreakers are tied, playoff matches will be held.

Speaking of tiebreakers, here they are:
Points (3 for wins, 1 for draws)
Head-to-head Points
Wins
RP Bonus

by **Karditan** » Tue Jan 01, 2013 9:34 pm

Hello! We here at the Karditani Chess Authority would like to welcome all players and fans coming to Bashtun for the Third International Chess Tournament. Attached is a travel guide for the seaside city, customized for this event. And yes, we are located in the region of Equestria: there will be sentient ponies milling about the city. They won't bother you if you don't bother them, and they can be good friends if you give them a chance.

The matches will be held in the Eleco Chessatorium (we don't like the name, either) inside of the Institute's Basti Library. It's a grand hall capable of housing eight matches simultaneously with sizeable seating for spectators. More information on the tournament can be found on the KCA website. Have fun!

Elvin Gilliam
KCA Chairman

Travel

Thanks to the generous folks at Pawn Companies, the primary sponsors of ICC3, flights and hotel fees for competitors will be compensated for. As you don't have to pay out of pocket, we would suggest staying at the Esprit Grande, a five-star hotel with every amenity you can think of (and then some) located with walking distance of the Karditani Institute of Technology. If your tastes are more modest, Vacations Unlimited has several three- and four-star hotels along the same rail line that services KIT.

Speaking of rails, they are the easiest way to navigate Bashtun. Almost every point of interest in the city is close to a station and the trains are fitted with passenger comfort in mind. There's even a rail line specifically designed for tourists! It will take you by all the major historical sites and shopping centers. If trains aren't your style, several bus companies cover Bashtun's ancient and convoluted road network. Taxis can be found, but the streets are usually too packed to hail one without a massive amount of effort.

Entertainment

You're not going to spend your entire stay playing chess, surely? You are? Well, if you change your mind, here's some ideas for things to do:

Education! You will be spending plenty of time in a university. Why not stop by a few classes and learn something? Most professors won't mind a visit from some of the world's brightest, and many students are excited at the prospect of meeting the competitors. Perhaps find a foreign cultural studies class and teach your nation's traditions, or even research the customs of your opponent's homelands? Swing by a theoretical mathematics class for in-depth discussion of chess stratagem and a few practice matches? Help a chemistry class blow something up? The possibilities for funducation are endless!

Sports! The Karditani Baseball League is in the tense final stretch of its season, and the Bashtun Bloody Sox are trying to maintain their divisional lead at home. You can see the dramatic last series against the Sinsinatti Reds and maybe even the start of the playoffs at The Fens, the oldest standing stadium in the nation. Meanwhile, the Karditani (Gridiron) Football League is just starting up its season. The Bashtun Brawlers will open at the Bashdome against the Detrot Lions on the third matchday, if you're interested in a type of football some of you might have little experience with. And, of course, there are parks dotted all over the city where you can play pickup games of any sport you like with the locals. Except soccer, of course. That's illegal.

Food! Bashtun is famous for its seafood. If you have deep pockets, the Rusty Anchor restaurant serves the best lobster you will ever eat. Otherwise, the streets are lined with diners and buffets with excellent clam chowder and crab cakes galore. Does seafood bother your stomach? Find some more terrestrial foods--hamburgers, hot dogs, fried chicken--on Plains Boulevard, a short walk inland from KIT. There you can find many chains originating in the almost-carnivorous cities of Fatlanta and Saxet, highlighted by Three Girl's Burgers, home of the juiciest and bloodiest beef allowed by law. Not fond of meat in general? A bit further inland is Greenhaven Road, the epicenter of Karditan's (largely successful) vegetarian movement. Everything served there is imported fresh either hourly from the farms on Bashtun's outskirts or daily from the warm southern reaches of Indianeighpolis and the Delamare River.

Alcohol! There are more bars than coffee shops in Bashtun. Find one and get hammered; we have it on good word that enough alcohol improves your chess ability! (This message has been sponsored by the Delamare Brewers Association.)

by **Audioslavia** » Wed Jan 02, 2013 10:59 am

"1. e4" said Roberto Pescador, moving his king's pawn two spaces forward, before reaching over and patting the timer. Roberto's clock stopped, and the timer of Rubio Sanchez began to tick. Rubio smiled. He hadn't played chess for... well, it must have been a year or two now. Rubio had been a keen player in his youth, although he hadn't been entering tournaments at anywhere near the age of his opponent/interviewee. Rubio had stopped tournament play at the age of twenty-one to concentrate on his journalism career, leaving the chess world having attained an ELO rating in the 1800s - not quite enough for national recognition, but still an impressive tally. His chess in recent years had been restricted to maulings of his colleagues and co-workers, usually over one Jeremy Jaffacake, who enjoyed the game but even with his sick, calculating mind could not overcome the skilled Rubio. This, however, was an altogether different test. Roberto Pescador was Audioslavia's youngest Grand Master, an ELO rating of 2409 at just thirteen years of age. Rubio played '...e5', meeting Pescador in the middle after realising he couldn't remember the deeper variations of the sicilian lines.
Roberto played 2. Nf3 immediately, and Rubio countered with ..Nc6.

3. Bc4. The Italian game. Rubio played ...Nf6, opting for the classical line in lieu of being unable to remember the more modern, possibly sharper variations.

Roberto Pescador was a strange kid. A stranger might call him polite, but someone who could read people, their body language, gestures and the like, like Rubio could, would instead assert that the kid seemed to merely 'act' polite, like a robot mimicking the same handshakes and nods that humans used when greeting one another, only with none of the warmth or friendliness. That said, child prodigy chess players were rarely 'normal' at the best of times, and Rubio had imagined a lot worse before meeting the kid.

4. Ng5. What was this line called again? Ah yes. The 'Fried Liver' variation, so-called after an old Starblayditalian saying that translated roughly as 'dead as a burnt liver'. It was an aggressive, exciting line that forced black to think carefully about his moves, lest he be overcome quickly and damagingly. It was technically an 'unsound gambit', meaning white takes no clear advantage from the attack, and black can eventually refute it and come out a piece better off, but in a five-minute game like the one Roberto and Rubio were playing, it could still be very, very dangerous. Rubio played ..d5, the classical line again.

5. exd5 Nxd5, 6. Nxf7 Kxf7, 7 Qf3 Ke6. Roberto had given Rubio his knight for no material compensation, but the journalist's king was now in the middle of the board, only protected by a forlorn pawn and some awkwardly placed pieces around it.

"So, is this a line you'll be playing in the Championships?" said Rubio, remembering he was supposed to be interviewing the boy.
"Nah" came the solitary reply. Rubio pressed on with the only question he could think of as Pescador pushed his knight to c3.
"Why not?" he asked, playing ..Nd4, not really analysing the position properly but hoping his two centralised knights would at least put a stop to Roberto's attack.
"I just use this against patzers" said Roberto. 9.Bxd5. Rubio wasn't sure how he'd missed that. He moved his king to d6 and then, finally, realised he'd just been insulted.
"Patzers?" a bemused frown on Rubio's face as Roberto played 10.Qf7. Rubio looked down at the board and played the most natural looking move possible, moving his bishop to e6, forcing an exchange of bishops in the middle in an attempt to relieve the pressure. "I'll have you know, young man, that I was a decent player back in my day, participated in national tournaments, got myself an 1800 elo rating.
"1800? I remember being an 1800 player.." said Roberto, playing 11 Bxe6, watching Rubio immediately reply with ...Nxe6 and giving the timer a big old bash. "..I was eight". 12. Ne4. Check. ...Kd5. Roberto moved his pawn to c4. Check again, but this time it appeared to Rubio that the young gun had made a mistake. He took the knight on e4 with his king. He didn't have time to realise that, well, Grand Masters tend not to make those kinds of mistakes. Roberto took the now unprotected black knight on e6 with his queen. It was all looking a little ominous for Rubio.
"What do you make of your opponents in the first round? Have you played Stewart Perrault before?"
"No, but I know his game" said Roberto, shortly, again, playing Qg4 with a check, the only workable response to which was for Rubio to move his king further towards white's side of the board, up to d3. "Perrault is boring. One of these hypermoderns. Thinks the centre of the board is the squares around g7, one of these guys who'll smarmily assert that the knight is as valuable as the queen. I get bored playing those guys, to be honest"
"Would that not work in their favour?" said Rubio, "if they can bore you to death then, well, you might lose concentration.."
"I never lose concentration" said Roberto, blankly., playing 16.Qe2, forcing Rubio's king another place up the board to c2, now painfully far away from his own pieces. The end was nigh, and the more he talked to this odd young kid, the more annoyed he would be with losing to him so quickly.
"And what about Kolb Gunt?"
"He's more of a patzer than you"
"I wouldn't say that to his face"
"I would"
"Have you seen the guy"
"Yeah, he looks like your mum" said Roberto, without even looking up. 17 d3. A discovered check. Rubio played his king to c1, at fully the wrong end of the board. He saw he was about to get checkmated, and grimaced as Roberto did it in the most flashy of ways, simply castling kingside, checkmating Rubio's king with knight and queen. Pescador didn't even bother to say 'checkmate', but then professional chessplayers rarely did.
"That's not a very nice thing to say" said Rubio, "what would your dad say?"
"He'd be annoyed until I told him you were the type of person who plays the two knights defence in response to the Italian opening, and then he'd dismiss you for being a boring old git. Good game." said Roberto, standing up. "I'm going to get a coke. Is this interview over?"
"Yeah... yeah it is"
"OK, thankyou very much Mr. Sancho"
"It's Sanchez"
"Whatever"

Rubio had considered teaching his three year-old son how to play chess. He was beginning to have second thoughts.

by **The Babbage Islands** » Wed Jan 02, 2013 12:32 pm

Victoria Valdemar bit her lip as the draw was posted. Already the teenaged grandmaster from The Babbage Islands had received a couple of morning surprises as she prepared to play in an international chess tournament in Karditan. Her second, GM Steve Erickson, said that the odd scoring system borrowed from football works to her advantage. "It's perfect for you, Vicky. It rewards playing for the W." Well, maybe that was true. But it was still a surprise.

The other surprise was that the Pawn and King representative wasn't a snooty creep after all. While his federation actually had the audacity to question her credentials and right to be present, despite two open national crowns and a GM title fairly won over-the-board, Lord Peregrine Aronimzo Kaspar of Konstantinovich apparently had nothing to do with that. He's a personable thirty-ish guy, a little absent-minded. But Steve also said not to read too much into his drifting. "It doesn't happen at the table, trust me."

"Hey, honey."

"Oh, hi, Mom." Seventeen-year-old Victoria was still accompanied to almost every tournament by her famous mother, Tegan Nash Valdemar. "How's it going?"

"I'm doing fine. Is the draw up?"

"They just finished it. This format's a little weird, four games against two opponents in random groups, then cut to eight for knockouts. I'm still hazy on time controls, but with only one game per day they won't be too strange."

"So who are you playing?"

"Let's see . . . Alphonse Vrbas of Timfen, my first game with white. Then black against . . . oh, boy."

"Something wrong?"

"Not exactly wrong. Let's just say I want to win this one."

Before Victoria could continue explaining Steve finished the job. "She drew that lord from Pawn and King, Konstantinovich."

Tegan asked her daughter the question. "Isn't he the one who challenged your entry?"

"Not him, Mom, just some bureaucrat in the federation. I guess they don't think much of woman players. I can't let them psych me, but he needs to learn that there's no W- in front of this G-M."

"Just don't let it muddle your thoughts," said Steve. "I've seen him play, he's unorthodox but sound. Looking at Larsen's games in the archive might help. He loved pouring new wine from old bottles, to borrow a strange metaphor. Vrbas should be pretty conventional and a patient defender."

by **The Inevitable Syndicate** » Wed Jan 02, 2013 1:18 pm

Raymond stepped off the plane. He had landed in Karditan, for the Third International Chess Championships, an event he was glad to be taking part in. Of course, Raymond had no idea on his group drawings until he arrived at the Karditani Institute of Technology, but he was hopeful he would be competing against the brightest minds of various countries, such as The Babbage Islands, Atlantian Oceania's very own Audioslavia, and Farfadillis. It would be nice to debate with some intellectuals, as back home in Diomede he never really got out much. The party scene was never his thing, and nobody had set up a decent ebook club.

A polite notice was left on the desk in his hotel room, telling Raymond which group he was placed in. 'Ah!', he thought to himself, 'Finally I can find out who I'll be battling!' Raymond read the note, and was immediately filled with regret.

Dear Raymond Yarsley,

We here a the Karditani Institute of Technology are pleased to inform you that you have been placed in Group 2, alongside Mr Amor and Bob. Have a nice day, and best of luck in your game!

Karditani Institute of Technology

Mr Amor, the last time Raymond had checked (which was on the taxi ride to the hotel) was a sentient piece of rock. Bob's first foray into the world of chess was a few weeks ago. Mr. Yarsley was not going to be matched with very... Refined opponents.

'Well, that's just fantastic. Matched up with a rock and a hermit. A Margret Worshiper, to boot! I can't believe it... However, this does mean that the group stage would be a cakewalk, and maybe I could battle some true intellectuals later on. A warm up stage, if I will. Hmm...'

Raymond grabbed his tablet, as his Syndicatian EyeGlass had no connection in Karditan. He sent a quick DataLink message to his friends back home (it really didn't take long...) and began to think of a strategy.

Chess Champion Chases Championship
Bashtun, KARDITAN ---- So, I've been asked to write an article about the Third International Chess Championships while everyone is away reporting the world cup. I, John Feracci, work experience boy, will write the best article ever!

So, chess. Fancy sport, played by intellectuals. It's great. Our main man is Raymond Yarsley, who comes from Diomede. He's a nice guy, and he's jetted all the way off to Karditan to play for the country. He's been put in Group 2, along with a rock called Mr Amor and a man named Bob. How cool is that! I hope he wins! Good luck Raymond!

John Feracci
ILN Sports (Work Experience)

by **Paradystopia** » Thu Jan 03, 2013 7:24 am

Kolb was entering the final few days of pre-tournament training. He felt ready. At least he thought he did, he'd only ever faced Paradystopi players before. This was different.

He turned up the music. A little music to aid his concentration. Psycho Deathface and the Festering Foetuses. His favourite hardcore punk death-metal band of recent days and this, their most recent single 'Rape the innocent'.

Humming along with the chorus, 'Rape the innocent, lobotomise the virgins, don't wash your hands' he focused on his reflection. The trademark glare. Focus. Imagine shattering the mirror. Focus harder! 'Rape the innocent!' His dark brown eyes were ablaze, throbbing with violent energy. This was the look! The look that saw little Harriet vo Goff'alsabasz, the 15 year old chess prodigy wet herself and promptly resign in the Paradystopi semi-finals. The look that made Rolf Curr, the defending champion resign from chess altogether, move to the country and live as a recluse. This was the look! The look of a malevolent beast just waiting to tear you apart.

"Kolby sweetie!"

His focus shattered like a balloon in a blender.

Turning a little to the left, he saw the reflection of his mother stood in the doorway. She was a large woman, kitted from head-to-toe in garish pink attire. Her jumper had a repulsively cute image of a kitten on it. Outwardly, she was the bane of Kolb's life. Secretly, she was everything to him.

"What?"
"Your dinner's getting cold deary. I've called several times now but I think your music's a bit loud."
"Damn it mummy! I'm practicing my chess!"

His mother noticed the board on his desk. There were no pieces on it.

"Did you have a go at that Ruy Lopez opening I showed you? It should give you an attacking edge heading into the middle game."
"Meh! That opening's stupid. I was planning on using the tried and tested 'Gunt Attack'!"
"Okay darling, but I doubt whether professional players will be fooled into scholar's mate ... "
"Muuummmy! It's not scholar's mate. It's the Gunt Attack!"
"Whatever you say love."
"Then, I hit them hard with the Gunt Knight Sacrifice!"
"Fried-Liv ..."
"MUUUMMMMY!"
"... the Gunt Knight Sacrifice then."
"It doesn't matter anyway. I have the psychological edge. The actual moves are irrelevant."
"Okay snookums. Are you coming for your dinner now? It's chicken nuggets in dinosaur shapes with chips and peas."

Kolb tried his penetrating stare on his mother. He loved being mothered but still tried to assert some sort of dominance. Keeping up appearances if you will. Sadly, his mother was immune to his ways.

"That's my beautiful wittle boy."

She left.

Kolb looked back at his reflection, then the empty chess board. Sighing, he followed his mother downstairs.

by **Grifone** » Sat Jan 05, 2013 1:20 pm

"Call us when you know who you're going to be matched up with." His mother's voice rang in his head as he glanced at the list, and he picked up his cell. The phone rang, once, and then twice.

"Hello?"

"Hi, mom."

"Izzi! How are things going? Are you eating alright? How was the trip?"

The teen chuckled. "Things are fine mom. They've fed me regularly, and I've even eaten something other than pizza. The trip was alright, I ended up sleeping through most of it so I didn't get sick this time." He smiled. "The hotel's called the Esprit Grande, and it's really nice. I think it might be the nicest one I've ever stayed at."

"That's good. How's your uncle?"

"Ah, he's off giving an impromptu lecture over at the university. He might not be competing, but he's still one of the best minds from Grifone." He tapped his hand on his leg. "I know who I'm competing against, and it's going to be a pretty harsh competition."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. It should be fun. I'm matched up with Rook Slide from Karditan, who's apparently a unicorn, and Tyrece Harrison. I've never played against a unicorn before." He hadn't even known that unicorns played chess.

"I'm sure you'll do fine, love."

"I know." His phone beeped in his ear, and the boy sighed. "I've got to go. Uncle Bryce is trying to call. Love you."

"Love you too. Let me know how things turn out."

"Will do." Time to see what his uncle wanted.

by **Vettrera** » Sat Jan 05, 2013 1:37 pm

Tyrece had been very busy since his failed attempt to win the 2nd International Chess Championships. His book "CASTLING" had been released, and was well received by the public, being the 4th bestselling book of the year. There was even a movie adaptation in the works, and many were urging him to write a sequel to "CASTLING". He then married his girlfriend Diedra, and they are about to have a child together. All of this was so much, that he even considered not entering the International Chess Championships for their 3rd edition. His wife then pushed him to go take part in the event again, telling him it was his patriotic duty to represent Vettrera. He, of course, did what she said, making his way to Karditan to deal with the alcohol-connoisseurs that he had to associate with every time he went to the championships. "Maybe this time will be different" he thought. "Maybe I'll play someone other than Rook Slide" he thought. "Maybe I'll win" he thought. Before the competition even began, he saw himself grouped with Rook Slide once again. "Hmm...well at least I'll see a familiar face."

by **Karditan** » Sat Jan 05, 2013 9:03 pm

"This isn't right." Rook rubbed his head , furiously trying to dispel the hangover that had settled upon him. "An ICC without Boralz? That's madness."

Lilly Bell, his marefriend of two years, sighed as she brewed the coffee. "I know it's terrible, honey, but we haven't heard anything out of Russi in years. You have to move on if you're going to be able to focus on the tournament."

"But he's too good to not have won! He can't just disappear!" He slammed his head into a pillow repeatedly. "I knew Margaret' was cruel, but this is too much!"

"Come on, Rook. You're fifty-three years old. You're a professor of mathematics at a prestigious learning institution. You're the greatest in all of Karditan at a sport only practiced by the greatest of intellects. You can't be throwing a tantrum like a foal." She telekinetically poured a cup of the coffee and floated it over to him, black. "Drink this. You'll feel better."

Rook took a sip, then downed half of it in a gulp. "Alright, yeah... I feel a little better... even though that was disgusting... and my head is still throbbing..."

"I told you not to drink that much. You know you can't handle that much liqueur." She poured herself a cup and mixed in some milk and sugar.

"I felt bad that I had never tried that Russi Vodka. When it really, actually hit me that I might never see Boralz again... it hurt. And I really needed to dig a ditch, throw that hurt down it and smother it. Weed prices have shot up thanks to the San Dineighgo drought, so I had to resort to alcohol."

"Well, at least that's behind you now. You're not touching a beer, a spirit, even a wine cooler for the next week. I've seen you play chess tipsy. You really don't want to do that on the international stage."

Rook pushed himself off the bed. "That's a good point. I think I'm going for a jog. The cold air should help freshen me up. Who am I playing next, again?"

Lilly looked back at the schedule on the desk. "You have off the first day, then you play Tyrece."

He facehoofed. "Right. I can't believe it. Three ICCs, three group stages with Tyrece. It's like the Ironworkers and the Regulars."

"What?"

"World Bowl. You know, football. Karditan and the Allamunnic States, almost the exact same situation."

"Sure, honey. I'll have lunch ready when you get back."

---------------------------------------------

MD1 Cutoff

by **Karditan** » Sat Jan 05, 2013 9:15 pm

MD1 Results:

(½-½ means draw, 1-0 means win. Tables will be posted on MD2.)

Group 1
Victoria Valdemar ½–½ Alphonse Vrbas

Group 2
Raymond Yarsley 1–0 Mr Amor

Group 3
Tyrece Harrison 0–1 Izziah Koggenspire

Group 4
Fer von Sparó 1–0 Joseph Van Holland

Group 5
Motzur Cellius 0–1 Adam Smithson

Group 6
Roberto Pescador 1–0 Stewart Perrault

by **The Babbage Islands** » Sun Jan 06, 2013 5:36 am

As Victoria Valdemar smiled and extended her hand in accepting the draw offer from Alphonse Vrbas, she was troubled on the inside.

I let that one get away. He started in classical fashion in response to 1. d4, moving into a Queen's Gambit Declined formation after 1. … d5 2. c4 e6. I prepared a transposition to the Catalan complex with 3. Nf3 which he took up, choosing the Open Catalan (3. … Nf6 4. g3 dxc4) instead of playing a closed position. I didn't expect that.

"A good game, sir."

"You too, miss."

Victoria rose from the table and exited the playing hall before conversing. Steve Erickson was happy to start; Victoria, not so much.

"Good thing for you that they've got these mini-pools going."

"How so?"

"All the other matches were decisive. You played the only draw."

"So all those other winners would be even more ahead of the game. Right. But I really thought I could make the gambit work."

"It's a good line in the Open Catalan, play gambit-style and develop fast in exchange for the pawn. His move eleven and your reply were the turning point."

Victoria replayed the game in her mind. "He found a great move there."

"He did,", Steve continued, "and you didn't fully appreciate it until one move too late. By then he had what he wanted, blunting your attack and almost compelling simplification to a drawish endgame. Which happened."

"Yeah. Well, there's Mom. I could stand for a decent meal about now. Any ideas?"

by **Farfadillis** » Sun Jan 06, 2013 5:58 am

"Now.", he thought.

The Lymantatian 10-year champion had been dumb with a few moves, almost as if in Lymantatia there wasn't many smart people, that guy couldn't just have won 10 championships like that while playing worst than his cousin.

He moved his queen between his other two in diagonal way, leaving the king in a checkmate. That had been an easy win, and one in which he had taken the piss maybe too much. He couldn't help but laugh during the entire match, the Lymantatian already had a reputation of being horrible, and his three pawns at the start of the game were just a way of making fun of him obviously. Actually, he made fun of Van Holland during the entire match. Now having stopped using the defensive way of playing he used, he used a horrible attack during the entire match, that still worked as Van Holland's defense was just horendous.

The next opponent, however, would be much more difficult, she'd be one to take seriously.

by **The Inevitable Syndicate** » Sun Jan 06, 2013 12:35 pm

Raymond was rather pleased with himself. Well, as pleased as you can be for beating a lump of rock at chess. He wasn't even allowed to play with an actual board, as the rock had some religious reason for not playing with any material. He had to sit at a computer screen and tap buttons. It was one of the most boring games he had ever played. The rock began to make an attacking play, but was shut down pretty quickly by Raymond's sharp skills. Now, it is often said that rock beats scissors, but there were no childish games to be played today.

Raymond skulked back to the hotel, poured himself a glass of water, and sat down to watch some Karditani television. Nothing interesting was on, of course, but Raymond was fairly confident that he was going to win his next game. 'Bob' was supposedly atrocious at chess, so Raymond foresaw he had a fantastic chance of entering the next round. But, that was for another day.

by **Grifone** » Sun Jan 06, 2013 5:10 pm

His first match had gone well, and the boy was rather happy with that. He was always glad when things went well, and had celebrated with a trip out to the Rusty Anchor restaurant. It was a bit pricy, but it was certainly the best seafood that the boy had ever had.

Not that he had ever really had good seafood.

Since Grifone wasn't a costal country, there was little native seafood, and what was imported wasn't of very good quality. Maybe that should change. That'd probably be a pretty good service task for his scouting troup, bringing good seafood to Grifone. He'd have to see.

He had spent the day productively, touring the city before returning to watch Rook Slide's match. He would play against him soon, and the boy was curious about his playing style.

by **Karditan** » Sun Jan 06, 2013 9:02 pm

Rook was hard at work on his exercise bike. Lilly was a bit puzzled. "How, exactly, is this preparing for a chess match?"

"N-LOG-N!"

"...that doesn't answer my question."

He banged a button on the screen above the handlebars and looked at her, still pedaling. "Chess is a mental marathon. I'm trying to equate physical endurance with mental endurance--math problems and logic puzzles appear on this screen, and I yell out the answer while also getting a good aerobic workout."

She shook her head and sighed. "You are really, really weird."

"I play chess for a living. You expect me to be normal?"

"Good point. Anyway, what are you planning for your match against Tyrece?"

"Tuttalian shell. I never used it against him and he never played Boralz, so it lets me keep my hyper-defensive style fresh against an opponent I've played over and over." This conversation was noticeably hastening his tiring; he was starting to gasp for air when he had been just fine moments earlier.

"I looked up the videos from the first two ICCs, and it didn't seem like he caused you all too much grief... but are you sure you're ready?"

"Why wouldn't I be ready?"

"Well, you played with Boralz constantly between the first two ICCs. It kept both of you fresh and sharp. You haven't really had a challenge since you faced Peregrine in the third-place playoff, you must be a little rusty."

"That's why I'm doing this, to get my mind back to speed." Rook hit the screen again and returned his focus to it. "Oh, that's easy. One-hundred thirty-nine."

Lilly leaned over and looked at the screen. "What happens when you get one wrong?"

"It ups the resistance in the pedals-"

"KUMQUAT!"

The words [!!!Incorrect!!! Increasing Resistance] scrolled across the screen. He let out a long, extended grunt as he tried to maintain his previous speed. She just chuckled and walked away.

---------------------------------------------

MD2 Cutoff

by **Karditan** » Sun Jan 06, 2013 9:05 pm

MD2 Results:

Group 1
Peregrine Konstantinovich 0–1 Victoria Valdemar

Group 1                   Pld   W  D  L  Pts 
1 Victoria Valdemar           2   1  1  0    4
2 Alphonse Vrbas              1   0  1  0    1
3 Peregrine Konstantinovich   1   0  0  1    0

Group 2
Bob 0–1 Raymond Yarsley

Group 2                   Pld   W  D  L  Pts 
1 Raymond Yarsley             2   2  0  0    6
2 Bob                         1   0  0  1    0
  Mr Amor                     1   0  0  1    0

Group 3
Rook Slide ½–½ Tyrece Harrison

Group 3                   Pld   W  D  L  Pts 
1 Izziah Koggenspire          1   1  0  0    3
2 Rook Slide                  1   0  1  0    1
  Tyrece Harrison             2   0  1  1    1

Group 4
Shiro Suzuki 0–1 Fer von Sparó

Group 4                   Pld   W  D  L  Pts 
1 Fer von Sparó               2   2  0  0    6
2 Joseph Van Holland          1   0  0  1    0
  Shiro Suzuki                1   0  0  1    0

Group 5
Joseph Edwards ½–½ Motzur Cellius

Group 5                   Pld   W  D  L  Pts 
1 Adam Smithson               1   1  0  0    3
2 Joseph Edwards              1   0  1  0    1
  Motzur Cellius              2   0  1  1    1

Group 6
Kolb Gunt ½–½ Roberto Pescador

Group 6                   Pld   W  D  L  Pts 
1 Roberto Pescador            2   1  1  0    4
2 Kolb Gunt                   1   0  1  0    1
3 Stewart Perrault            1   0  0  1    0

by **New Ecopia** » Mon Jan 07, 2013 2:20 am

Shiro practiced every day with robots training hard. She played mental games with herself to prepair her mindset.
She also plays chess in her free time to improve.

by **Paradystopia** » Mon Jan 07, 2013 3:04 am

Audioslavian 13-year olds, it would appear, have stronger constitutions than Paradystopi ones.

Roberto Pescador was already seated at the table when Kolb took his seat. His chair creaked uneasily under his massive frame. He looked at his white pieces, ready and waiting his first move. He much preferred playing as white. That way he could play some mind games before his first move, rather than having to react to his opponent. Pescador was looking at him, he glared back and growled softly through his nose. This only served to make his opponent chuckle and roll his eyes dismissively.

1.d4 ...

This wasn't a usual opening for Kolb. He was much more prone to e4. This move, however, did seem to throw Roberto. He was probably expecting e4 also. After a little thought, he played d5. Probably humouring Kolb who he knew, was hardly a master of the opening game. It was the middle game when 'Gunt the Leviathan' would take control. He couldn't compete with the robots who would spend hours memorising openings, variations and other complicated choreography to enter the middle game a pawn up. Kolb like to wait until they could no longer refer to their 'crib sheet', start the real mind games and play aggressive chess.

2.e4 ...

Roberto smiled. Queen pawn gambit? He had a few ideas where to go from here. For the first time in his chess playing life, Kolb felt a little scared.

The game came and went. Kolb's stare failing to break the 13-year old. He had however, managed to salvage a draw by three-fold repitition. Now to go back home to the mirror. He couldn't rely on luck to beat Stewart Perrault.

by **Farfadillis** » Mon Jan 07, 2013 6:09 am

"Alright, time to checkmate.", he thought, as he once again used the queen to make his final move. Now the king found himself in a checkmate in which the responsible were two bishops and a queen, plus having less space to move. Suzuki had been a much better opponent than Van Holland, but still a bit easy to play with. He had already forgot of his defensive game quickly and played offense during the entire match, something that couldn't be matched. He relied on a few minor but key errors by the Ecopian to win, such as not eating his pawn that would later on become a queen, while he had the chance with another pawn, but chose to advance as usual instead. He also had lost his queen thanks to a very dumb move he didn't think twice. A pawn for a queen? Sure, what could go possibly go wrong?

However, even with the no queen advantage, he still managed to play better than Suzuki and get a win, thanks to a pawn that got to the other side and turned into a fresh queen. His bishop and pawn proved enough for a king and queen for a while and, by sacrificing a rook and relying on a quick move by Suzuki who decided to use her king instead of her queen, he turned things around again by crowning a pawn. After that, he managed to dismantle Suzuki completely and, by using two bishpos and a queen, win the game.

Next, bye day and knock-out, he had to prepare.

by **The Inevitable Syndicate** » Mon Jan 07, 2013 9:56 am

'Flawless Victory' was on the mind of Raymond Yarsley as he strolled out of the Institute and onto the street. His victory against Bob had in fact been a sure one, placing him first overall in the tournament. Well, if you didn't count Fer von Sparó. Admittedly, the handsome young man who really reminded Raymond of his former self had had a much "tougher" time of it, having to play people who actually know how to play chess. Bob had made at least one hundred and fourty six illegal moves during their game, and Raymond found it so easy, he even had time to count. 'You know what' he thought, 'I'm going to treat myself. Maybe go to that seafood restaurant everyone was talking about. Spend some time on the beach.'

Raymond hadn't been to the beach in years, what with Diomede being almost as far from the sea as is possible in the Syndicate, and whenever he had taken the weekend trip to Burgess, it was often raining. Here in Bashtun, however, the sun was shining. There were many bars along the seafront, but Raymond, as a true Syndicatian, didn't feel like drinking. Ever. Prohibition had been introduced in the country, and while it wasn't illegal to consume alcohol anymore, nobody rally did. Sensibility by majority, as the government had put it. Raymond arrived at the Rusty Anchor, and sat down for a pleasant meal. As he scanned the restaurant, he noticed a familiar face. Laura Verreau, runner up of the Syndicatian National Chess Championship, and by default his main rival. He moved over to her table (she seemed to be alone), pulled up a chair, and sat down.

'Laura. What on earth are you doing here?'

'Raymond! It's so good to see you? What are you doing here?'

'You know full well what I'm doing here... Doing what you couldn't.'

'Living a fun and fulfilling life, Ray?'

'No, Verreau, Chess. International Chess. It doesn't seem it, though.'

'Why? What's wrong? Not playing against intellectuals of your calibre?'

'... Exactly. How did you know?'

'I've... I've been watching your games. I knew you were going to be here. I just wanted to see you play.'

'So you know full well I've played a rock and a hermit!'

'Yeah. You did well, Ray!'

'Shush. It's killing me. I wanted a decent battle, something that people would revere me for. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. I don't see how I can lose.'

'Don't get too cocky - the rock might beat you!'

'Good one. I... I came here for some intellectual pursuit. Some culture. And all I've found are fools!'

The waiter stumbled up to Yarsley and Verreau's table. 'May I take your order, sir and madam?'

'I guess we're eating together then.' Raymond said, rather pleased that he'd found someone to talk to.

'Yes, I guess so.'

The two Syndicatian Chess players ordered their meal, and talked throughout the evening. They even grabbed some salt and pepper shakers from the other tables, and played a game of mini-chess using the tile pattern on the dining table. After the meal, Raymond asked Laura if she was doing anything tomorrow, as he had a bye day, and he didn't have anything to do.

'We could go to the beach, or watch the rock and the hermit play...'

'I'd like both of those things. Shall we meet at the Institute in the morning?'

'Yes, let's. I guess I'll see you tomorrow then, Laura.'

'Goodbye, Ray.'

The two walked off in opposite directions, to reunite tomorrow. Raymond finally had something to look forward to.

by **The Babbage Islands** » Mon Jan 07, 2013 4:37 pm

Time to put Steve out of my mind and play chess.

Victoria Valdemar offered her hand to her round two opponent, Peregrine Konstantinovich of Pawn and King, and after the formality awaited the first move. It duly came: 1. e4. Almost without pause for thought Valdemar pushed her queen's pawn forward two spaces, beginning a Scandinavian Defence. She thought she caught a flash of a grin across the table as Konstantinovich captured the d-pawn and followed up her queen recapture with the entirely orthodox 3. Nc3.

Win or lose, he's playing on my turf now. She played 3. … Qd6 followed eventually by 5. … a6, and gave mental thanks to Bronstein among others.

As the game progressed, it was clear that Konstantinovich was playing according to general principles against Valdemar's specific experiences and expertise. Slowly she turned the tide. An exchange sacrifice on the 22nd move proved to be the game-breaker, and not long thereafter she accepted congratulations for her victory.

"Well done, Vicky."

"Thanks, Steve."

"Shall we go find your mom?"

"Sure. Let me send her a text."

And as her thumbs whirred her mind leaped ahead. Why can't you see it? He may be my coach, but he wants to be more than your friend. And you deserve that.

by **Karditan** » Mon Jan 07, 2013 9:04 pm

MD3 Cutoff

---------------------------------------------

MD3 Results:

Group 1
Alphonse Vrbas 1–0 Peregrine Konstantinovich

Group 1                   Pld   W  D  L  Pts 
1 Alphonse Vrbas              2   1  1  0    4
  Victoria Valdemar           2   1  1  0    4
3 Peregrine Konstantinovich   2   0  0  2    0

Group 2
Mr Amor ½–½ Bob

Group 2                   Pld   W  D  L  Pts 
1 Raymond Yarsley             2   2  0  0    6
2 Bob                         2   0  1  1    1
  Mr Amor                     2   0  1  1    1

Group 3
Izziah Koggenspire 0–1 Rook Slide

Group 3                   Pld   W  D  L  Pts 
1 Rook Slide                  2   1  1  0    4
2 Izziah Koggenspire          2   1  0  1    3
3 Tyrece Harrison             2   0  1  1    1

Group 4
Joseph Van Holland 1–0 Shiro Suzuki

Group 4                   Pld   W  D  L  Pts 
1 Fer von Sparó               2   2  0  0    6
2 Joseph Van Holland          2   1  0  1    3
3 Shiro Suzuki                2   0  0  2    0

Group 5
Adam Smithson ½–½ Joseph Edwards

Group 5                   Pld   W  D  L  Pts 
1 Adam Smithson               2   1  1  0    4
2 Joseph Edwards              2   0  2  0    2
3 Motzur Cellius              2   0  1  1    1

Group 6
Stewart Perrault 0–1 Kolb Gunt

Group 6                   Pld   W  D  L  Pts 
1 Kolb Gunt                   2   1  1  0    4
  Roberto Pescador            2   1  1  0    4
3 Stewart Perrault            2   0  0  2    0

by **The Babbage Islands** » Tue Jan 08, 2013 9:02 am

On her bye day Victoria spent a lot of time on the nets. But it wasn't in search of opening novelties. Or at least not those of chess matches. Instead she read in the Tegan Tells archives. Mom has no secrets; she wrote about everything for years. And she found the story about how Tegan Nash and Steve Erickson first met at Snorri's Chess Club in Kopavogur over 25 years ago. Playing bughouse. She wrote about winning that championship, then dating him a few times, then not much, then Dad proposed to her. And they had a press conference to announce it. How romantic.

Steve's stayed a family friend for all that time, teaching me when it was clear that I was gifted far beyond the level of the rest of us. Patty and Caroline both play, about as well as Mom when they were competing. But I played better and loved it more. Has he carried a torch all this time?

by **Audioslavia** » Tue Jan 08, 2013 10:30 am

"..from Paradystopia, Kolb Gunt"
Rubio folded his arms as Mr. Gunt walked out onto the floor, towards the table. Audioslavia's own Roberto Pescador was already seated, nervously adjusting his pieces on the board. The announcer offered his hand to the enormous hulking morass of eyebrow ridges and tattoos, but Gunt ignored the gesture, striding and staring towards his young opponent. Pescador stopped moving his pieces and looked up towards the figure.

Rubio studied the two men intensely, notepad and pen at the ready. To the casual observer, it might have looked like Pescador was calmly staring the man down. To Rubio, who knew Pescador a little now, it appeared that Pescador may well have been, quite literally, sharting himself. The dismissive, aloof nonchalance had dissipated entirely. Gunt plonked himself down on the seat and moved his queen's pawn forward two spaces. Pescador looked up at the adjudicator, who shrugged. Pescador pressed the button on the timer, and then pressed it again, letting his own clock run.

He met d4 with d5, trying to feign cockiness as he did so. Gunt seemed... less fierce. Less concerned with beating the opponent into a bloody mental mess, more concerned with what was happening on the board.

Roberto was concentrating on Kolb, Kolb was concentrating on chess. Both players playing to their own weaknesses. Rubio smelled a draw already.

---

The game was dire. Even Rubio could see that. The opening had been so promising, too, with Gunt sacrificing a pawn for early development of his pieces, and Pescador countering sharply as black. From there, there were simply too many sacrifices. There was one pretty passage of play, going from move twenty, as Gunt seemed to sacrifice the exchange by swapping a rook with a bishop, with the aim being simply to move the bishop out of defence of the fork on e7. The audience clapped quietly, politely, but it was obvious to all that neither side came out better for the exchange. Gunt was playing aggressively, but ineffectively, Pescador was doing well just to concentrate on the board for five seconds at a time. This wasn't how top-level chess was supposed to be played. The game ended well into the end game, Gunt too clumsy a thinker to turn the screw, Pescador simply not concentrating enough. Finally, the young Audioslavian held his hand out for a draw. Gunt almost shook it from its hinge.

To the post-game interview, then. There would be a fifteen-minute press conference, but journalists from the 'home' nation of a player could interview them first. Rubio Sanchez might not have been Audioslavian himself, but his Cathair Tribune newspaper was.

He met Pescador outside the conference. The boy smelled faintly of wee. And strongly of poo.

"Are you OK?" asked Rubio. Pescador shrugged.
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"It's just that... you smell like you've sharted yourself."
"No I... I... just trod in some dog doo, that's all"
"There was dog-doo on the path from the chess board to here?" asked Rubio, bemusedly.
"Yeah, your mum must have been here" scowled Pescador. So he was getting back to normal at least.
"Funny" said Rubio, "she never usually leaves leaves leftovers from her lunch".

Pescador giggled. Maybe that was one way to gain the boy's trust.

by **The Inevitable Syndicate** » Tue Jan 08, 2013 10:58 am

Raymond met Laura at the Institute, and they sat down to watch a game of chess between a rock and a... Well, Bob. The game was phenomenal. It was played using a computer screen, for Mr. Amor's religious reasons, and Bob had a hard time predicting any moves. The game ended in a draw when one of his EEG Wires came loose, and he was unable to communicate. Bob fell asleep, and so the match was called a draw. Even better news for Raymond, as he was quite sure it would be very hard for them to catch him now. He wasn't getting complacent, though, as anything could happen in the horrible world that was Chess. After the game, which would provide brilliant conversation material for several years to come, the two decided to sit on the beach and have a picnic.

'So, Ray, who are you playing tomorrow?'

'The rock, again. It should be fine. If I realise I'm losing, I'll have to sabotage his EEG cables. I mean seriously. Are they playing me or something? A sentient rock? A BLOODY ROCK?' his booming voice echoed across the seafront.

'I'm sure it's no joke. Besides, look on the bright side - it's an easy slide into the quarter-finals.'

'Slide. Rook Slide. He's been doing well. Not as well as I, but he's actually had opponents to play. Won his game today.'

'Oh?'

'So, Laura, you never told me - what bought you here from the Syndicate? Why did you want to come see me play?'

'Someone had to - it's not on the news, surprisingly, as everyone has World Cup fever...'

'Oh yeah, how are we doing in that?'

'So-so. You know how it is: Syndicatian Defence, Our boys are great, everyone else is rubbish...'

'Great. So, what do you want on your sandwich? We've got jam, ham, chicken, cucumber...'

Third International Chess Championships (IC/Results)

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