Fourth International Chess Championship [RP/Scores]

by **New Sideburn** » Thu Mar 28, 2013 3:30 am

Chess... wasn't a sport. Even Linda admitted it wasn't a sport, and she had no delusions of this overshadowing New Sideburn's successes in real sports. Winning the Baptism of Fire, Joshua Groat being the best dart guy in the world, runners-up of korfball, whatever that was...

But she wasn't in this for the headlines, though that was an advantage. Sideburnese love a winner, even one doing something obscure and intellectual. Linda was in this for pride. To show the world she could.

Admittedly, being stalemated by a thug and beaten handily by a sub-human wasn't what she had in mind.

But she was tied for second. She could do this. So Linda sat in her chamber that night, poring over theory books and openings.

Somehow, she would find a way.

by **Stretta** » Thu Mar 28, 2013 5:07 am

Charles du Went had stayed up most of the night on a diet of coffee and pastry rolls. He studied the games Sova had played so far in such detail they were burned into the front of his mind. In reality, he was staying up more out of a paranoid fear for his safety. There seemed to be an underlying current of politics going on in Pinehearth, and he couldn't understand what it all meant.

When he arrived at the match the next day, coffee in hand, he felt prepared. Confident. This preparation began to pay off early. It was almost as though Charles was Sova. He could see it all coming. That was up until the 15th move, when things were in danger of falling apart. Sova made a move out of character. What happened? A bead of sweat trickled slowly down his forehead, eradicated briskly by a handkerchief that seemed to fly out of the end of Charles' jacket like a jet aircraft. The ticking clock echoed like a church bell in his mind. The subtle sounds of the felt-bottomed soldiers slammed into the tables causing an earthquake in his chest. He took a deep breath, sliding his queen out into the battlefield. She was taken down in a hail of fire, as the white and black corpses of dead men piled up on either side of the board. They exchanged pieces like frivolous traders exchange commodities, showing a complete disregard for immediate consequence.

That's when Charles spotted the opening. He slid his rook into an open lane, looking directly to the other side of the board. At the same time, his bishop and knight pinned the King behind a line of pawns. The piece then seemed to move up the board at a snails pace, and finally completed it's journey across all 8 tiles. "Checkmate."

Charles breathed a deep sigh of relief. Wiping his forehead once more, he shook Sova's hand graciously, and moved into the spectator seating. That was it. The first half of the group stage completed. He looked around, desperately attempting to locate Raymond Yarsley. He couldn't see him, but he could see Vrbas, and that meant that the other game had reached its conclusion. What was the result? Where were they seated? The Group C table was updated. Deflated, Charles slouched into his seat. Still in second place. It was enough to get through, but it wasn't comfortable. Still, he couldn't expect any less from a defending champion.

There was a small scuffle in front of him between Hubertus and a goon of his. After yesterday, Charles looked away. He could do without attracting more attention from those mysterious people. Perhaps this evening he could go for that skate he promised himself.

by **Paradystopia** » Thu Mar 28, 2013 7:55 am

As Rook simply stated 'Checkmate', Kolb refused to believe it but the fact was that he had just played the sloppiest chess of his professional career and by his standard, that was some achievement.

8 moves. Eight fucking moves?!

Kolb didn't even notice Rook's outstretched hoof, offering the usual congenial post-match handshake.

Raising his hand, Kolb swiped all the pieces from the board, exited his chair and quickly left the arena. Only once turning to flash a look of sheer anger towards the Karditani champion.

by **Karditan** » Thu Mar 28, 2013 9:21 am

It's like playing a child. Rook wasn't even intending to go for the 'quick kill'--it's not his style--but after the second move, it was clear Gunt had no idea what was going on. He had begun with the Réti opening, but... d5, then e5?

That may have made sense if I was playing the Queen's gambit... but even HE should know I wouldn't go down that path. With that, Rook just segued into instinctive playing; Gunt made for an overambitious fianchetto with his dark bishop, putting the unicorn's king in check, and Rook did have to sacrifice his own dark bishop. But the black bishop plunging in front of a queen with zero backup? The white queen eliminated the threat immediately, then went marauding, tearing through Gunt's panicked defenses before locking the black king in a diagonally adjacent position covered by a white knight. It was really just some of the sloppiest play the ICC had ever seen, and the competition has had a rock compete before.

Rook looked across the board uncomfortably with his hoof held out; Gunt was still staring at the board processing exactly what had just happened. When it finally hit the lumbering pile of flesh some call a 'man', he opted to instead swipe at the board. The pieces scattered everywhere, some simply tumbling off the side while others were sent flying across the room. Expecting the worst, Rook was actually glad that all he received for all this trouble was an extremely angry look. Angry looks don't break bones.

by **The Inevitable Syndicate** » Thu Mar 28, 2013 1:00 pm

Mr. Vrbas had a name that sounded like a trumpet. It was apt, then, when Raymond found himself in his hotel room late at night listening to famous Syndicatian composer Tremblay's Trumpeto Concerto No. 6, in D Minor. The room shook with the noise, and Raymond could have sworn he heard a knock at the door, but he didn't answer.

The next morning, before the game against Du Went, Raymond made his way down to the headquarters of the SAC, to discover the hall had been completely flodded after a period of intense rain overnight. Which was odd, as it only often snowed here in Pinehearth.

Laura Verrerau greeted him with a frown.

"Well, I'd invite you in for a tea before your game, but you can't play it here, as you'd need SCUBA gear!" Laura said. "What am I going to do! The officials are already up in arms, as one has lost a tie in the water, and the scoreborad is now being used as a raft!"

"And what do you want me to do about it? I'm just a competitor. I should be complaining to you!"

Thomas Burke, complete with rolled up trousers, stepped out of the hall. "Nobody is going to be playing chess in there today, I can tell you that!" Don't worry, I've got in touch with a local resteraunt, and they've agreed to host it there!"

"What resteraunt, Thomas?" Laura said, perplexed as to why he didn't pick a hotel or something.

"Only my favourite one in Pinhearth - Poultry Shack!"

The Poultry Shack was really not the place to hold a chess tournament. A Vilitan creation, that prided itself on the fact that they would fry anything for you, this one was a small establishment tucked into the corner of a road along one of the main streets of Pinehearth. One of the main problems with it was that Thomas Burke had failed to book the whole thing, so as the competiors entered, they had to swerve around various paying customers to get to their board. The dingy laptop that had been set up in the corner flickered into life - a spreadsheet showed the current scores.
Raymond was annoyed. He was annoyed because Thomas Burke decided to play Yarsley's least favourite song, Take On Me, on repeat on the jukebox. Raymond shot of look of pure hatred at Burke, to which he responded by having a hearty laugh. The Syndicatian GM sat down, annoyed.

The good news for Raymond, though, was that it allowed him to order some food while playing. He picked a fish dish, as it reminded him of Karditan, and sat down.

MD4 Cutoff, Results to follow!

by **The Inevitable Syndicate** » Thu Mar 28, 2013 1:02 pm

Group A
Castra Steenbergen (Steenbergen) ½–½ Dr. Hubertus Schimmel (Kriegiersien)
Howard Staunton (Tobys Great Britain) 0–1 Bob (Darmen)

  Group A                                    Pld   W  D  L   PF  PA  PD  Pts                      
1 Bob                                          4   3  0  1    3   1  +2    6    
2 Dr. Hubertus Shimmel                         4   2  1  1  2.5 1.5  +1    5   
3 Howard Staunton                              4   1  1  2  1.5 2.5  −1    3    
4 Castra Steenbergen                           4   0  2  2    1   3  −2    2   

Group B
Linda Baritone (New Sideburn) 0–1 Kolb Gunt (Paradystopia)
Rook Slide (Karditan) 0–1 Julio Ramos (Johamlandia) (Ooh, shocker that one...)

  Group B                                    Pld   W  D  L   PF  PA  PD  Pts                      
1 Rook Slide                                   4   3  0  1    3   1  +2    6    
2 Kolb Gunt                                    4   2  1  1  2.5 1.5  +1    5  
3 Linda Baritone                               4   1  1  2  1.5 2.5  −1    3    
4 Julio Ramos                                  4   1  0  3    1   3  −2    2     

Group C
Alphonse Vrbas (Timfen) ½–½ Greg Sova (The Sova Empire)
Charles Du Went (Stretta) 1–0 Raymond Yarsley (The Inevitable Syndicate)

  Group C                                    Pld   W  D  L   PF  PA  PD  Pts                      
1 Charles Du Went                              4   3  0  1    3   1  +2    6    
2 Raymond Yarsley                              4   2  1  1  2.5 1.5  +1    5   
3 Alphonse Vrbas                               4   1  1  2  1.5 2.5  −1    3 
4 Greg Sova                                    4   0  2  2    1   3  −2    2  

Group D
Ashra Kazali (Khazmatistan) ½–½ Victoria Valdemar (The Babbage Islands)
Jampoti Lazarki (Schmiegelland) 1–0 Alexandra Turner (Grandterre)

  Group D                                    Pld   W  D  L   PF  PA  PD  Pts                      
1 Jampoti Lazarki                              4   3  0  1    3   1  +2    6    
2 Ashra Kazali                                 4   1  3  0  2.5 1.5  +1    5 
3 Victoria Valdemar                            4   1  2  1    2   2   0    4  
4 Alexandra Turner                             4   0  1  3  0.5 3.5  −3    1

by **New Sideburn** » Thu Mar 28, 2013 2:44 pm

"What."
Linda flatly looked down at the chessboard. Then she looked up at her opponent. Then back down at the chessboard.
Finally, she passed out, head smacking into the board and sending pieces flying. Maybe lying in bed studying instead of sleeping hadn't been her best idea yet...

by **Kriegiersien** » Thu Mar 28, 2013 3:30 pm

A nice cup of tea, some relaxed discussions with some other players. He came only 13 minutes too late to the game, but no one really cared, beside the referee tapping on his wrist.

His game against Mrs. Steenberg would have been called a "furious battle" in the country he represented. They would have loved the slaughter. Many casualties, no prisoners, no wounded. After a short time neither of them had many options. Two times he suggested a draw, but three was the charm and the woman accepted it.

He jumped of the seat, when something hit the ground in front of him. It was the woman... from..Sideburn... Mrs. .. Baritone? She seemed to have fallen of her seat.
He poked her gently and felt her pulse.
"Miss?"
Human physiology. Hm.. Didn't seem so bad. A small cut at the head. He tried to be not in the way when the medical staff arrived, just holding her hand when she awoke.
"Aren't you a doctor?", someone asked.
"Yes. Are you ok, Miss Baritone? You fainted, I think. How many fingers you see?", Hubertus asked.
"Three?"
"And who is the best chess player in the world?"
"Me."
"She seems to be ok, maybe just a qualm because of the stress. Just tape her wound and bring her to a quiet room to lie down for now. I'll come with you, if you allow."

An emergency at chess was rare, he thought, that said, thinking of the high age of the participants of these events sometimes there were some heart attacks, but not at that age for humans.

by **New Sideburn** » Thu Mar 28, 2013 3:37 pm

*Linda briefly awoken*
three fingers
that seemed right
yeah
ok
best
best player in the world
well that was what this whole thing was gonna be about, innit
who th'fuck could know th
*Linda fades back to sleep*

by **Paradystopia** » Thu Mar 28, 2013 6:08 pm

It was his third ½lb cheeseburger and Kolb had yet to decide whether comfort eating was making him feel any better. Around the corner, his second fixture against Linda Baritone against whom he previously only managed a draw. Also, he was playing as white then.

Confidence levels were low after his ridiculous loss to Rook Slide. How had he been so stupid? He may as well had simply knocked his king over as his first move. Shameful. Swallowing a large lump of meat, cheese and bread, he sighed. Maybe he just wasn't cut out for chess.

As the chair at the table strained beneath his weight, he noticed an agitated look in Linda's eye. She'd not been faring too well, by her own high standards, either and it showed upon her face. Something clicked inside Kolb's head ... maybe there was hope ...

The game began steadily. In the back of his mind, a sense of anxiety flickered away like a candleflame in the distance. He needed a win. Luckily for him, Linda was feeling exactly the same.

15. e4 ...

After a short glance at the clock, Kolb paused. He looked to Linda but she refused to make eye contact. It just seemed a reckless move and if he was thinking that, it must be pretty bad. She did look tired, but that tired?

... fxe4
16. Qe3 Nac4
17. Qc1 Qf6
18. a4 ...

a4? The tension had been building up in the centre and now a4? He shot a questioning look at Linda. She again ignored him but it did appear that she had blundered somewhat ...

Kolb took the initiative and began to chip away at the white defense. Linda appearing more bedraggled after every move and resorting to a slightly, disorganised defense. Keep pushing and wait for the cracks to show ...

28. ... Rxf2
29. e7 ...

There was a pang in his stomach. The same pang he felt when Rook had announced checkmate. The white pawn was one move from promotion. Kolb had been too caught up in trying to finish off Linda and he'd neglected the rogue white piece.

... h6
30. e8=Q+ Kh7
31. a5 ...

Kolb did not understand what was going through Linda's mind. a5 was such a bizarre move to make after causing him such unpleasantness. Was there another strategy? What was he missing? Something to do with the black pawn on c6? All this thinking was making his head hurt.

... Rgxg2
32. Qe5 Nf3
33. Qf5+ Rg6
34. Rg1 ...

Linda appeared focused upon the black king, as though willing it to fall. Small beads of sweat were beginning to appear on her brow also. Kolb panicked. How to defend, How to defend, How to ... Oh ...

... Rxh2#

"Check ... err ... mate. Checkmate."
"What."
"Checkmate."

At this point, Linda fainted, knocking her head quite hard upon the board as she collapsed. Before Kolb could even get to his feet, the Kreigiersien champion was practically on top of Linda, holding her hand and trying to find her pulse.

"Hey. I won!"
"Aren't you a doctor?"
"No ... I ... "

He then realised the question wasn't directed at him. Watching the horde of male chess player crowd around New Sideburn's prostrate female champion, he left the table and exited without anyone even noticing. 'Sheesh. Some of these guys really need to get laid' he thought to himself.

by **Khazmatistan** » Fri Mar 29, 2013 7:35 am

Yet another draw. Ashra was quite worried now. Perhaps it had been the unfamiliar territory of the restaurant, but she was just not performing well.
Perhaps she was just overworked. In any case, with the floods, she would have to spend the day indoors.
She'd now lost her first place position to Jampoti, thanks to her low win ratio.

Ashra decided to examine the various implements around her room, and flicked through the radio stations to find one with a soothing violin melody.
She looked out the window at the flooded streets and contemplated what could happen in the next few days.

No matter what the outcome, she had to return to Khazmat. Sure, this exotic new land was wonderful, and people had so much freedom and equality. Nobody had to live in poverty or suffer long working hours in squalid conditions. But for better or worse, Khazmat was her home, and she could not leave her grandmother behind. To hide away in some foreign land, to use the excuse of a sporting event to run away from her country, that would be a disgrace, and it would mean that other Khazmati would never be allowed to leave the tightly-reinforced borders and see the world beyond it.

She was determined to win the tournament, however. While the odds were stacked against her, victory would be a great boon for her people and her nation, while the penalty for failure was an uncertainty looming over her head.

She left the radio on and spent the time up until the next match in quiet contemplation with some practice mixed in.

by **Stretta** » Fri Mar 29, 2013 8:15 am

Charles wandered down the street, his mind pre-occupied with finding a restaurant. The Poultry Shack, when he asked for directions at his hotel, was described with a deep and hearty laugh and a reccomendation to stay away from the fried rhubarb. After all the laughing, he finally had some directions to follow. He was now 5 minutes late, though.

Half-jogging through the restaurant door, he almost sent a table with a romantic couple on flying, before slowing his pace and zig-zagging to the back of the room where the chess boards were set out. There was a strange smell in the air. Oil. Lots and lots of cooking oil. It smelt like a cross between a coffee shop and a chip shop, which was a rather odd combination. That's when he noticed Raymond Yarsley, who Charles would be playing for a second time today. Raymond seemed very annoyed about something. Shrugging it off, Charles took to his seat. "Sorry I'm late," he said to Raymond, and half to the man standing behind him looking dissapointed in Charles' tardiness.

They shook hands and got underway. This was a match that had everything to play for. If Charles could win, then he would be topping Group C. It was a lengthy drawn out game, not only because of the number of moves that had been made, but because of the length of thinking time that the players had taken. Eventually though, with just a pawn and a king left, Raymond was defeated by two rooks. You've won. A little man inside Charles' head was jumping up and down with joy. He shook hands with Raymond once again, stated that it was a good game, and then went to get a glass of water and some fried turkey with cranberry sauce. It was surprisingly nice. Who would have thought?

He then took a look at the scores. Indeed, he was now top of Group C, a position that would serve him well going into the final two games against Vrbas and Sova. Then he looked over the results of the other games. One result seemed to just jump out of the screen, like it were printed 50 sizes larger than the others and placed in bold. Rook Slide had lost to Julio Ramos? That was an almight battle of the underdog. Maybe this Rook wasn't such a formidable threat, after all.

by **The Sova Empire** » Fri Mar 29, 2013 9:20 am

PLACE: Greg's Desk, New Bethlehem, TSE
Time: The morning after the 2nd Vrbas game

Greg's face was buried in a book. "Chess for n00bs, and how not to be one" was on the cover, and while it seemed silly at first, it was almost appropriate. A whole 2 points out of the lead, it would almost take a miracle for Greg to qualify for the finals. His assistant and twin Tom thought a book would help. "Sarcastic S-O-B" Greg muttered. Just then, Tom walked in.

"Haven't I told you to knock first?" Greg exasperatedly remarked.

"Oh fine then." Tom stepped out. *knock knock* "Greg", *knock knock* "Greg", *knock knock* "Greg", *knock knock* "Greg", *knock knock* "Greg".

"STOP! Just come in." Greg regretted showing Tom his Big Bang Theory DVD's. "Why did you even get me this book?!"

"Oh, I thought it would be appropriate that someone who can't even muster a win on the international stage needed some help." Tom chuckled, something he rarely did. "Also, I found it hilarious that you ran from the room when that Linda gal fainted."

"Just trying to stay out of the way of the medics, that's all." Greg denied all claims of any phobias after the Linda incident, although he knew better. "Anyways, any developments on the 'Regions will fall' news?"

"No. I'd worry about not embarrassing TSE on the international level right now. The World Cup Team is winless right now too, so please try to get something good out of the next match."

With that, Tom left. Greg also had to organize an American Football team for the Baptism of Iron coming up, and so chess would have to wait for tonight.

by **The Inevitable Syndicate** » Fri Mar 29, 2013 11:36 am

(OOC: Apologies for the early cut off, family emergency means I'd be unable to make the actual time. Hope you understand.

)

As that semi-addictive yet horrible 80's synth beats blared around the Poulty Shack, Raymond was getting lazy. He wanted it to all be over, so he could leave. That wasn't going to sto him bringing his A-Game though. However, he made a few mistakes. And those mistakes cost him the match. It was a cruel trick, played by Burke, and Yarsley was going to have a stern word with him when they went to the mission briefing at the SIA later on. As Du Went surrounded his king with two rooks, emacipating his king, Yarsley heard a thud on the table behind him. Spinning round, not before congratulating Mr. Du Went for such a good game (after all, it wasn't every day you found a formidable opponent), he saw Ms. Baritone face down on the table. It looked as if she'd fainted. Whether that was the fault of the Paradystopi boy, who had piled plates up on his table, and was staring, puzzled as to why the woman had just fainted. It didn't concern Raymond, so he grabbed his coat and hat, and decided to leave. Before leaving, he checked the laptop for the latest scores. One of them seemed a little off. Rook Slide had just lost to Julio Ramos? Wasn't he last? It seems Rook must have been as annoyed as I was. Or maybe he's allergic to cooking oil? Who knows...

He found a train schedule on the DataLink, and went down to the underground network. There were many cars and buses floating about down there, but no trains would be setting off to Fligsive for a while. He sat, and browsed the days news on his EyeGlass. More stuff on Climate change... We lost the football... New games console sells well... Bombings in Esportiva... Seems the whole world is suffering at the moment.

The train eventually arrived, and as Yarsley stepped on it, he could feel his double-world-champion winnings slip away from him. Hopefully his next game against Greg Sova wouldn't be in a resteraunt.
Good news: It wasn't. Bad news: It was in the lobby of the Drift Towers Hotel. Not too much of a walk, but it meant he had to be properly dressed if he wanted to get breakfast. Raymond had deliberated his tactics overnight - and he sat down to play another game of chess. This time, he hoped, he was going to win.

MD5 Cutoff, Results to follow!

by **The Inevitable Syndicate** » Fri Mar 29, 2013 11:37 am

Group A
Howard Staunton (Tobys Great Britain) ½–½ Castra Steenbergen (Steenbergen)
Bob (Darmen) 0–1 Dr. Hubertus Schimmel (Kriegiersien)

  Group A                                    Pld   W  D  L   PF  PA  PD  Pts                      
1 Dr. Hubertus Schimmel                        5   3  1  1  3.5 1.5  +2    7
2 Bob                                          5   3  0  2    3   2  +1    6   
3 Howard Staunton                              5   1  2  2    2   3  −1    4 
4 Castra Steenbergen                           5   0  3  2  1.5 3.5  −2    3 

Group B
Rook Slide (Karditan) 1–0 Linda Baritone (New Sideburn)
Julio Ramos (Johamlandia) 0–1 Kolb Gunt (Paradystopia)

  Group B                                    Pld   W  D  L   PF  PA  PD  Pts                      
1 Rook Slide                                   5   4  0  1    4   1  +3    8    
2 Kolb Gunt                                    5   3  1  1  3.5 1.5  +2    7  
3 Linda Baritone                               5   1  1  3  1.5 3.5  −2    3    
4 Julio Ramos                                  5   1  0  4    1   4  −3    2   

Group C
Charles Du Went (Stretta) 1–0 Alphonse Vrbas (Timfen)
Raymond Yarsley (The Inevitable Syndicate) 1–0 Greg Sova (The Sova Empire)

  Group C                                    Pld   W  D  L   PF  PA  PD  Pts                      
1 Charles Du Went                              5   4  0  1    4   1  +3    8   
2 Raymond Yarsley                              5   3  1  1  3.5 1.5  +2    7   
3 Alphonse Vrbas                               5   1  1  3  1.5 3.5  −2    3 
4 Greg Sova                                    5   0  2  3    1   4  −3    2   

Group D
Jampoti Lazarki (Schmiegelland) ½–½ Ashra Kazali (Khazmatistan)
Alexandra Turner (Grandterre) 0–1 Victoria Valdemar (The Babbage Islands)

  Group D                                    Pld   W  D  L   PF  PA  PD  Pts                      
1 Jampoti Lazarki                              5   3  1  1  3.5 1.5  +2    7  
2 Ashra Kazali                                 5   1  4  0    3   2  +1    6
  Victoria Valdemar                            5   2  2  1    3   2  +1    6  
4 Alexandra Turner                             5   0  1  4  0.5 4.5  −4    1

by **Paradystopia** » Fri Mar 29, 2013 12:59 pm

Kolb's mood had lifted after his victory over Linda Baritone. Again, he felt stronger, more powerful. Now he had to face Julio Ramos. The Johamlandian had given himself a slight chance of qualification by somehow beating Rook Slide, but now he had to beat Kolb and Kolb was in no mood for defeat.

Julio seemed cocky at the table. Like many of the other competitors, he had written Kolb off as an idiot despite having already lost to him. Now Kolb may suffer from a slight lack of mental acuity but when you can scare you opponents into doing what you want them to, well, it sort of evens itself out.

Ramos moved his king's pawn to e4 and Kolb echoed his opening. Instantly, Julio presented the King's gambit; f4. It was clear that he had a plan.

Kolb hovered his meaty hand above his queen's pawn. No one plays a gambit that quickly without knowing exactly how to punish those who accept it. There was a glint in Julio's eye. Maybe that's what he was expecting Kolb to play? Withdrawing his hand, he growled softly to himself. Choices, choices. Then he played c5 and chuckled to himself. He had no strategy but that was the plan. Catch Julio off guard.

The Johamlandian cast a quizzical look across the table, shrugged and then played fxe5.

The burly Paradystopi champion smiled. He decided to say afterwards that Julio had walked into his trap despite the fact that he hadn't noticed it until now.

3. ... Qh4+

"Check"

Julio struck his forehead with his palm and uttered what Kolb assumed was a Johamlandian expletive.

4. Ke4 Qxe4+

"Check"

5. Kf2 Qd4+

"Check"
"Yes! I can see that! Thank you!"

This outburst took Kolb a little off-guard. No-one had ever talked back to him ... He quickly decided he didn't like it.

6. Ke1 Qxe5+

"Check"
"Are you a damn fool? Yes! I'm more than capable of seeing when I'm in check or not. You fat ..."

Suddenly Julio found his mouth full of fist and felt a sensation of tumbling backwards. He crumbled to the floor like a house of cards.

"No-one calls me fat, dickhead."

Dragging himself back towards the table, Julio managed to control his daze just long enough to topple his own king. Trying to focus on the many versions of Kolb circling wildly in front of him, he spoke once ...

" ... sora ... sowwr ... sorry? ... "

... and promptly collapsed again.

"No-one calls me fat ... "

by **Karditan** » Fri Mar 29, 2013 1:11 pm

Was planning to slide an RP in before the cutoff, but oh well. I hope everything's alright, Syn.

I... I really shouldn't have tried the fried rhubarb. Rook was having trouble focusing on the board as an almighty uproar threatened to tear his stomach apart at the seams. Oh, for the Love of Luna... A putrid burp escaped his lips as he nearly doubled over in the cheap plastic seat, Julio blissfully unaware of his opponent's distraught due to the exciting notion of finally having the edge in a match.

I might feel a bit better if they didn't keep playing THE SAME SONG OVER AND OVER AND OVER. I mean, I like A-ha and all, but... there's a limit. Even just throw in the Reel Big Fish version or something! This is almost as bad as the time someone played "Hey there, Pussycat" a dozen times in a row...

Julio slid his rook over a bit and put the white king in check; Rook just nudge it over a spot, before hearing a *thunk* behind him. Turning, he saw Linda passed out on her table in front of a happy-looking Gunt. Ugh... at least I'm not the only one feeling that way.

"Checkmate." Rook spun around--a loud bubbling noise followed and he immediately regretted the sudden movement--and scanned the board. Yup, seems the simple nudge of the king had set himself up to be locked in place by a black bishop. Damn. At least now I can go to the bathroom--though I shudder to think what the bathrooms in this dump look like. He offered Julio a quick hand/hoof shake before bolting off to the rear of the 'restaurant'.

The bathrooms were actually surprisingly well-kept.

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

The relatively clean air of the Drift Towers hotel lobby provided a much better atmosphere for a chess match, and Rook was back to his normal self for his fifth game. Although he had practically had to swim there; oddly enough, there only seemed to be a single heavily flooded road that day and it was a road that lied directly between his hotel and the Drift Towers. The way things are going, the Towers may live up to its name too well...

The doorman was obnoxiously snooty, however. The tournament was being held in the lobby after check-out time, so apparently the doors were temporarily closed and the man who manned them had nothing to do but wander about and observe the various matches. He seemed particularly interested in the bout between Rook and the recuperating Linda. Both sides found derisive snorts being directed their way after a majority of their moves, and it was really getting on everyone's nerves. There was a specific moment, after Rook castled upon some pressure from black Queen, where the doorman made an altogether too loud "pfffft" noise and hit the unicorn's limit.

"That's it!" he said, pushing off the table and standing on his hind legs, looking the doorman in the eye. "If you think you're so much better than us, I'll take you on afterwards."

"Very well." was all the snotty bastard responded with. The infuriated Rook went on an uncharacteristically strong attack, finishing the still somewhat out-of-it Linda quickly and telekinetically rearranging the pieces back to the starting positions. Turning to the small audience, he spread his hooves out to the side and gave the doorman his best 'Come at be, bro' look.

Much to Rook's chagrin, his unofficial opponent proved to be far more capable than he had been expecting. It was certainly no eight-move win, nor even a twelve-move win. It took Rook a full forty-seven turns to put away the boisterous bastard, and though the final point total (28:19) indicated Rook might have just been toying with him, in truth the doorman did some miraculous defending with a scarce few pieces. He reluctantly shook hand/hoof with the his foe (who was also reluctant, due to his loss), and turned for the door just in time to see Gunt deck Julio. Hah, that's what he gets for taking advantage of my weak stomach.

by **The Sova Empire** » Fri Mar 29, 2013 1:27 pm

Anonymous tweeter's that hashtagged #chessmatch during the Yarsley v Sova match:

Seems like a lovely, sunny day today, guess my nation's leader is going to spend it....in a hotel #chessmatch

Hopefully Good Friday can be good to Mr. Sova today #chessmatch

How will you guys be watching the game? TV12 will be filming the match...if they ever let us in #chessmatch

Is anyone else shocked that our fearless leader hasn't won yet? Hopefully he will today #chessmatch
RT: Last match against Yarsley, he tied, so a win is certainly possible
RT: He's the reigning world champ, so don't get your hopes up.
RT: He isn't fearless, did you see him leap from the room when Linda fainted? LOL

WOOHOO, CHESS!!! (said no one ever) #chessmatch
RT: if no one ever said it, why is it televised?
RT: because Sova's got a lot of money and will pay the TV producers off

Somehow, playing chess on Good Friday seems like a bad omen #chessmatch

Well, at any rate Sova's better than the U-15 soccer team (link attatched) #chessmatch

Hey, I opened with that exact same move against my mother's cousin's roommate's bestfriend's worst enemy 3 years ago! #chessmatch
RT: no one cares

Castling? What the heck is castling? #chessmatch
RT: the whole reason Sova is playing is to educate dumb people such as yourself. Go read a chess book.
RT: let's try to be politically correct here
RT: NO!

Dear me, Sova is just tearing apart the Yarsley defense! He might actually win-oh wait, his queen's dead. Never mind

#chessmatch

And that'll do it. Another loss for Sova. I'll join the tourney next year, I can certainly get a better record than 0-2-3. #chessmatch

*YAAAAWWWWNNNNN* Ok, I've woken up. Did I miss anything? #chessmatch
RT: Nope, Sova lost AGAIN.
RT: What did you expect?
RT: Not that epic punch that Kolb Grunt put on Julio Ramos. I'll be tuning in next week for sure!

And, just like the RL NASCAR obsession was started after a fight, chess became popular in TSE after the Grunt-Ramos fight.

by **Stretta** » Sat Mar 30, 2013 4:17 am

To avoid any more laughter-related travel delays, Charles du Went set out from his hotel room early. The staff at the reception couldn't have been more polite this time. It annoyed Charles that one day they could laugh at his expense, to only be the kindest people on the planet the next. There was a slight hint of fear when he had asked after Drift Towers, though. The offer of a free breakfast was a bit odd...

It was only when Charles arrived that he realised what might be happening. The place was amazing. He couldn't help but look up at the ceiling and all around the lobby when he arrived, mouth slightly ajar. Had the staff at his hotel been fearful of him moving residence? Charles wished he had the money to stay at this place. Alphonse Vrbas wasn't at the venue yet. In fact, he couldn't see anybody recognisable. That was the bad bit about setting out early. The good part was avoiding the scorn of the organisers. He settled in for breakfast. The quick visual frisk was an odd sensation upon asking after a table, but Charles had clearly passed. His shoes, trousers and shirt must have passed the dressed code, just.

He looked at the breakfast menu and his eyes began to water. "A glass of orange juice and..." He looked at the price of the orange juice, and then decided he couldn't afford any of it. "Actually, I'm sorry. I just forgot I need to be somewhere."

A little while later, and still hungry, he sat down across the table from Vrbas. His hunger spurred him on. A quick pace, a steady and concentrated mind and a pushy stomach meant that the match was over very quickly. It wasn't far off scholar's mate. Six moves in, and Charles was already closing in for the kill. So much for his "hypermodern" style of play. Suffice to say, Charles did not hang around at the end of the match for long. He went to get breakfast at a nearby cafe, before returning to catch the end of the other games.

Rook was up on his hind legs, with no opposition in front of him, gesturing in his direction. It took a couple of moments for Charles to register that it wasn't him who was being gestured towards, but the man standing beside him. The doorman. This match was the spectacle of the tournament, with most of the players gathering around to watch. It was a slight mystery to Charles, who hadn't witnessed the preceding events.

That didn't stop him joing the others in rapturous applause at Rook's victory.

by **Kriegiersien** » Sat Mar 30, 2013 8:09 am

Hubertus placed his pawn on the other side of the board and switched it for a queen.
Bob, his opponent, sat there silently as ever and seemed to think. He just didn't want to give up.

Hubertus absent-minded played with a knight he had taken, rolling the piece between his fingers. He put it up so that it overlapped with the silhouette of Rook Slide, then shook his head. He was getting silly. He could see some of the other games on the monitors at the ceiling. Most of the games were over, only a few players playing. He suddenly heard a squeal and murmur from the audience. When he looked around he saw that the player from Johamlandia, Ramos, was getting up. Had he fallen from his chair, too? Odd. The man was muttering some words to his opponent from Paradystopia, some referees arrived....

Hubertus suddenly discovered the outstretched hand in front of him. Bob was giving up. He took the hand and jumped of the seat. He looked up to a monitor with the scores and table. Beside the fact that his last name was still written wrong (or maybe it was the local pronunciation), his points were missing. But he was pretty sure that he had 7 and was through. Ah, now it was updatet. That meant a game without stress against Staunton and his 'Bodyugardninjas' (he was pretty much sure they were watching him secretly) would let him some freedom.
Which opponent would await him now in the play-offs? Group B and C were decided, concerning the qualification for the next round. He was excited.

He waddled over to some of the other players talking and standing around. This guy from the Sova Empire..Greg? seemed to look through him, as if he was glass, maybe his thoughts were somewere else. Nevertheless Hubertus asked into the round:
"What happened there at table 12?", he pointed at Ramos and Gunt.
"And would some of the gentleman like to accompany to lunch? I've heard of a great restaurant in the near. And maybe we could play a casual game of chess there. Or maybe Go. Or monopoly?"

by **The Inevitable Syndicate** » Sat Mar 30, 2013 11:24 am

(OOC: You've all RP'ed, right? If so, I'll just post now. It's a lot easier for me. If you haven't RP'ed, do it twice, and I'll count both for next time. Again, apologies for the erraticness of everything, things will be back to normal soon, I promise.)

The rain was getting a bit too much to bear for Raymond now - he didn't dare step out on the balcony of his 7th floor room in Drift Towers, as he assumed he'd get soaked. This was incredibly unlike Pinehearth, but as he now knew, something a little more sinister was afoot. He'd arrived back in the hotel at 3am, incredibly tired after all the research he'd been putting forward. As a result, he slept in until about 10 minutes after he was meant to arrive. Luckily, the tournamant was being held downstairs again, so he very quickly got dressed and groomed, and sped down the stairs to the lobby. Sat there was Greg Sova, surrounded by television crews. Oh my, this might be embarrasing... Yarsley thought, as he handed his EyeGlass to the officials so they could temporarily block any programs that could be used to cheat.

"Do you think you could do me a favour?" Raymond said to the man.

"Depends. What do you want, Mr. Yarsley?" the official said, plugging the pair of Augmented Reality Glasses into a laptop and killing various applications.

"Can you keep the social netoworking feeds up? I want to know what the General Public think of my play."

"I don't see why not..." the official tapped some keys on a keyboard, and a beep could be heard from the glasses. "There you go!"
"Brilliant, thank you." Raymond opened various feeds up, searched #chessmatch, and kept in the corner as he began his game. Apparently, someone had opened with that one before.

The game continued, and at some points Yarsley really thought he was going to lose. Sova had actually done quite a good job at taking a majority of Yarlsey's pieces, and he even had to resort to castling in order to keep his pieces safe. However, a bit of luck and skill shone through, as sooner rather than later Sova's queen was down, and this left him open to a wonderful pincer move that shattered any dreams Sova had of a win.

Shortly after the game., Yarsley turned around to see Rook Slide playing chess against the doorman, who seemed like quite a cocky guy. Yarsley had noticed him walking around earlier, making rather rash comments about everyone's play. They'd only just began, but it seemed that the game wasn't going to be as much of a whitewash as everyone thought. Raymond did notice the ring on the doorman's finger. It was the same one that he wore - the one to denote that you were in the top 10 in the Syndicatian Chess Association. Yarsley didn't actually remember him, so he must have been in the bottom five - after all, his teammates in the A Team had the other three. After forty-seven agonisingly long moves, the game was finished. The doorman was defeated. Raymond approached him, and offered to shake hands. That's when he caught the number. 7. Fair enough. The doorman gave Raymond a look, raised his eyebrows, and went back to the desk. Raymond heard a loud noise, and span round to see Julio Ramos hit the floor of the establishment. Ouch. Remember not to insult the Paradystopi Boy.

After another turbulent trip to Fligsive, in which Raymond was given a laptop so he didn't have to trek back there anymore (which was probably for the best, as the flood gates keeping the underground dry were starting to falter), Raymond woke up the next morning feeling rather refreshed. Today's match was to be held in a park, because the SAC had literally ran out of places to host the competition, as all of their capital had been invested in cleaning up the hall. Which, he'd heard would be ready for the Quarter Finals to be played in. Luckily, a tent had been erected to keep the rain off. Raymond sat at the chilly bench, wearing his coat and bowler (it wasn't technically inside, so it wasn't impolite), and waited for Alphonse Oom-pah-pah to join him.

MD6 Cut Off, Results to follow!

by **The Inevitable Syndicate** » Sat Mar 30, 2013 11:24 am

Group A
Castra Steenbergen (Steenbergen) ½–½ Bob (Darmen)
Dr. Hubertus Schimmel (Kriegiersien) 0–1 Howard Staunton (Tobys Great Britain)

  Group A                                    Pld   W  D  L   PF  PA  PD  Pts                      
1 Dr. Hubertus Schimmel                        6   3  1  1  3.5 2.5  +2    7  
  Bob                                          6   3  1  2  3.5 2.5  +1    7 
3 Howard Staunton                              6   2  2  2    3   3   0    6 
4 Castra Steenbergen                           6   0  4  2    2   4  −2    4 

Group B
Linda Baritone (New Sideburn) 1–0 Julio Ramos (Johamlandia)
Kolb Gunt (Paradystopia) 1–0 Rook Slide (Karditan)

  Group B                                    Pld   W  D  L   PF  PA  PD  Pts                      
1 Kolb Gunt                                    6   4  1  1  4.5 1.5  +3    9     
2 Rook Slide                                   6   4  0  2    4   2  +2    8   
3 Linda Baritone                               6   2  1  3  2.5 3.5  −1    5   
4 Julio Ramos                                  6   1  0  5    1   5  −4    2   

Group C
Alphonse Vrbas (Timfen) 0–1 Raymond Yarsley (The Inevitable Syndicate)
Greg Sova (The Sova Empire) 0–1 Charles Du Went (Stretta)

  Group C                                    Pld   W  D  L   PF  PA  PD  Pts                      
1 Charles Du Went                              6   5  0  1    5   1  +4   10    
2 Raymond Yarsley                              6   4  1  1  4.5 1.5  +3    9   
3 Alphonse Vrbas                               6   1  1  4  1.5 4.5  −3    3 
4 Greg Sova                                    6   0  2  4    1   5  −4    2 

Group D
Ashra Kazali (Khazmatistan) 1–0 Alexandra Turner (Grandterre)
Victoria Valdemar (The Babbage Islands) 1–0 Jampoti Lazarki (Schmiegelland)

  Group D                                    Pld   W  D  L   PF  PA  PD  Pts                      
1 Ashra Kazali                                 6   2  4  0    4   2  +2    8  
2 Victoria Valdemar                            6   3  2  1  3.5 2.5  +1    8 
3 Jampoti Lazarki                              6   3  2  1    3   2  +2    7
4 Alexandra Turner                             6   0  1  5  0.5 5.5  −5    1

Quarter Final Schedule:
The quarter finals are somewhat different from the previous round - in order to truly test your chessmaster, they will play four games against the opponent - two on white, two on black. In the event of a tie, another game will be played to determine the winner.
The Fixtures are as follows:

Dr. Hubertus Schimmel v Victoria Valdemar

Bob v Kolb Gunt

Rook Slide v Charles Du Went

Raymond Yarsley v Ashra Kazali

Also, seeing as the SAC Hall is fully repaired, games will now be held there once again.

by **The Sova Empire** » Sat Mar 30, 2013 2:30 pm

PLACE: A TV studio in New Bethlehem
OCCASION: Recap of the 4th Intl. Chess Championship

Reporter: "Is this thing on? Yes? OK then, we are live with our Executive Pastor and newly declared Leader of The Sova Empire, Greg Sova"
Greg Sova; "Pleasure to be here with ya today."
R: "Certainly is. The citizens have been wondering about your adventures in Chess. For those at home, Chess is a strategic board game in which the main goal is to kill the enemy king before he kills yours. More rules are posted at our website. You played 6 matches, right?"
GS: "That is correct. The players in my group were pros, and I was able to eke out 2 draws and 4 losses. While that sounds bad, I assure you that it is a great result for a newb like myself."
R: "Let's go through your matches. First was against Vrbas from Timfen."
GS: "Yes, it was. First game jitters took over, and I made a silly move that exposed my king. That ended my match."
R: "You then faced Yarsley from The Inevitable Syndicate"
GS: "I drew this game. Which at first sounds bad, but consider the following: One, he's in his home country. Two, he's the incumbent champion. So it was a very good match."
R: "Your 3rd was against Du Went from Stretta"
GS: "Uh huh. Funny story, I had a dream the night before that I had the same ending as the match did. Except I won in my dream. I lost in the real match."
R: "A shocking story. You then had a rematch with Vrbas?"
GS: "In one of the worst places to host chess: A Poultry Shack! Several players were late, Rook Slide was upset (in his game and his bowels), and Linda Baritone even fainted! I was able to manage a tie."
R: "Quite suprising. How about the match after that?"
GS: "That was my rematch against Yarsley. My queen went on a rampage, but Yarsley managed his pieces better than mine. A loss at the hands of a champion isn't something to get too down on, though."
R: "Tell us about your 6th and final match."
GS: "My closing match was more or less a mercy killing. I rematched against Du Went, and I never had an advantage. Maybe I was distracted, since it was being held in a park."
R: "Well, our time is almost up. Any closing words?"
GS: "Yes, I encourage the youth of this nation to watch the playoffs, because we could use a good player for the next tournament; I will not likely be doing this myself next time."
R: "OK then. Thanks for your time Greg."
GS: "Anytime."

by **Khazmatistan** » Sat Mar 30, 2013 9:29 pm

MD5

Yet another stalemate. Having spent the last night worrying, perhaps that stress was getting to Ashra a little too much.
Oh well, it couldn't be helped. The rains had receded now, so she would spend some time relaxing and winding down at the cafe for the morning, pick up a book at the library to learn some new strategies, then spend the afternoon practicing, and go to bed early to get plenty of rest.

Ashra hadn't really packed anything fancy- after all, her low earnings were mostly spent on food and medical supplies for her grandmother, so she didn't have much in the way of expensive clothing, but she picked out the most elaborate piece from her pack to wear to the hotel. It had been a gift from her brother Razhul, who usually worked across the border as a labourer, but was forced to stay home while she was out of the country. It was a stunning green dress and matching shawl, with elaborate patterns stitched across the hem in gold. She was grateful to have recieved the gift, despite having wondered what more practical things could have been bought with the money.

The gorgeous hotel lobby had blown her away. The decadence, the style! Never could she have imagined that people could live in such luxury. She'd purposefully neglected to write any more letters during her embarrassing streak of stalemates, but this was something to write home about.

MD6

Ashra was in good spirits. A win at last over Alexandra Turner, who had bested her before, put an end to her long row of draws. Perhaps it had been the lush lights and surrounds of the hotel distracting her foe, or all that research and practice., but she was positively beaming with delight at the result.
It was time to keep her family posted on her adventures. She picked out her usual spot at the cafe and sat down with a glass of warm milk as she wrote her letter and wondered about what the next few days would hold.

The break until the quarterfinals would give her some time to wind down and do some more research on her new opponents. She was both eager to face someone new, and worried that they would easily knock her out. She was facing Yarsley in the first round, whose reputation had preceded him. A consecutive champion who was representing the host nation, Inevitable Syndicate. He was leading, and he would most definitely be far more skilled than her. She would have to look into defensive strategies.

Ashra paused as she struggled to describe the hotel without the use of pictures or use of religious symbolism, and looked out into the street for inspiration.

by **Stretta** » Sun Mar 31, 2013 5:17 am

Charles went into the game feeling pretty relaxed about the whole affair. He wasn't entirely sure how the tournament was being run, but he had taken an educated guess that the top two from each group would be progressing, which put him in contention for the quarter-finals, regardless of the result. Nevertheless, he played his heart out.

He did take some time to get to know Sova though. He seemed like a thoroughly nice man, and like many nice men, not a lot more can be said. With no glaringly negative points to be picked up on straight away, a one sentence statement of "he's nice" will really suffice. Sometimes leaders of nations could paint themselves in this vain, and through oppression push the idea that they are somewhat godlike, but it seemed that Sova really didn't need to. They shook hands at the end of the game. "It's been a pleasure playing you, Mr Sova. I wish you all the best."

So that was it, top of group C. Not bad, du Went, not bad. That evening he phoned his mother, informing her of his great play. She couldn't muster much response. For his mother, some days were good and some were bad, and Charles imagined today was one of the worst. She seemed preoccupied and dazed. Confused. After saying his goodbyes, he phoned his boss at the museum. "Richard, I'm afraid I've made it through the group stages of the competition, so I'll be away from home a little longer."

"Not to worry Charles. Congratulations!" Richard, the chief curator, spoke of the exciting new exhibit on the ancient burial mound found close by. There had been a wealth of silver and gold found, and unknown artifacts previously undiscovered. This excited Charles greatly. He hung up, went to close his eyes, and that's when the phone rang. He took a moment to figure out what it was. It wasn't a classic ring, more of a buzzing.

"Good evening, Mr Went, there is a call for you. A Mr Linik of Silly Man Defence?"

"It's du Went, and excuse me?"

There wasn't time to find out. The receptionist had just pushed the call on through regardless. "I'm sorry if I'm bothering you this evening, Mr du Went. My name is Phillip Linik, chief editor of Sicilian Defence." Now it made more sense. "I just wanted to congratulate you on your progress at the ICC. Did you have time for a quick interview? We're looking to do a feature on you in our magazine this month, which goes to print in two days."

The interview wasn't exactly quick. An hour and a half later, Charles went to bed.

There was quite a bit of excitement surrounding the park that morning. Charles had wrapped up warm, but it wasn't quite enough. The hustle and bustle was amazing. He picked up a coffee, lightly spiced, which was an odd but warming sensation, from a local stall in the park. The man seemed to be doing great trade, and offered a slight discount to du Went for being a player. That put a smile on Charles' face. However, when he saw who he was playing, a slight wave of panic crossed his mind. Rook Slide.

He decided to say hello to the man. He corrected himself. To the horse. Walking over, he held out a hand. "Mr Slide? I'm Charles du Went." He navigated a complicated inter-species greeting, a meeting of hoove and hand that just... wouldn't quite... work... right. "We're playing each other in the quarter-finals. I just wanted to say hello, and wish you all the best."

Fourth International Chess Championship [RP/Scores]

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