Fourth International Chess Championship [RP/Scores]

by **The Inevitable Syndicate** » Sun Mar 24, 2013 6:45 am

Hello, and welcome to the Fourth International Chess Championship! Are you ready to see how your national grandmaster scrubs up to the rest of the competition? Well, now's your chance!

FAQ:

How will you scorinate?
Matches will be scorinated using the round robin chess function of xkoranate. Each competitor will play each other twice, and the top two will advance to the quarter finals. After this, competitors will. play one game each, and whoever wins will advance to the next round. Roleplay bonuses will be administered as rank, as I feel that this should be a tournament that anyone can win, given enough quality RP.

How will RP be graded?
Like the Third International Chess Championship, RP bonus will be purely cumulative. Every matchday, RPs will be graded based on quality, creativity and length in increments of .25, up to 1 point per day. The max skill will be set to the highest possible bonus for that day. Multiple RPs in one day will be averaged out, NOT added together, so please don't post multiple times for one matchday. Bonuses will be cut in half at the start of the playoff rounds.

When/where is the tournament being held?
The tournament will be held in the snowy city of Pinehearth, in the headquarters of the Syndicatian Association of Chess. Pinehearth, often called the "Crystal of the North" is one of the coldest areas in the Syndicate, but life still manages to find a way to flourish. There are many attractions to experience whenever your grandmasters have any downtime, such as the Pinehearth Outdoor Ice Rink, and the many restaurants along the river bank. For any more information on the country, please consult our NSWiki page, found in my signature below.

When actually will the tournament be held?
RP Cutoff will be at 8PM GMT every day, and scorination will occur shortly after.
Schedule:
MD1: (1 v 4) (3 v 2) 25th March
MD2: (1 v 3) (2 v 4) 26th March
MD3: (1 v 2) (3 v 4) 27th March
MD4: (4 v 1) (3 v 2) 28th March
MD5: (3 v 1) (4 v 2) 29th March
MD6: (2 v 1) (4 v 3) 30th March
Break: 31st March
Quarter Finals: 2nd April
Semi-Finals: 4th April
Finals: 6th April

Groups:

Group A:
Dr. Hubertus Schimmel - Kriegiersien
Bob - Darmen
Howard Staunton - Tobys Great Britain
Castra Steenbergen - Steenbergen

Group B:
Kolb Gunt - Paradystopia
Julio Ramos - Johamlandia
Rook Slide - Karditan
Linda Baritone - New Sideburn

Group C:
Greg Sova - The Sova Empire
Raymond Yarsley - The Inevitable Syndicate
Charles Du Went - Stretta
Alphonse Vrbas - Timfen

Group D:
Victoria Valdemar - The Babbage Islands
Alexandra Turner - Grandterre
Jampoti Lazarki - Schmiegelland
Ashra Kazali - Khazmatistan

by **New Sideburn** » Sun Mar 24, 2013 4:31 pm

"Brilliant," muttered Linda. "First match, and they've got me up against a sub-human."
"You're concerned?"
Linda waved her aspiring biographer off. "No, Franz, not concerned. Just... doesn't feel right. I mean, a horse, really? A bloody horse?"
"Technically a unicorn," said Franz, blithely. Linda glared at him, then sighed and sat back on the sofa. Franz, not for the first time, couldn't help but admire the looks of the woman he was to write about. Linda wore loose dresses that flattered her figure, generally accompanied by small but stylish hats. Franz had already done all the backstory stuff, but this here would be the capstone of his 350-ish page book. Linda's performance in the world tournament, win or lose.
It was in both their interests for her to win, of course. There's little glamorous about "and then she lost six times and crashed out of the tournament in disgrace, the end."
Linda sighed again, pulled off her gloves and poured out some brandy for the both of them. "Here," she said, bitterly. "May as well celebrate our inglorious start. Here's to checkmate on the morrow."
Franz took his glass in hand, raised it in acknowledgement of the toast and drained it, thinking vaguely about how best to mention her curves in every chapter.

by **Khazmatistan** » Mon Mar 25, 2013 1:45 am

Ashra, wearing a modest long red dress and a traditional Khazmati shawl decorated with simple cloth patterns covering her shoulders, sat outside a cafe watching the view of the city and the people walking by. It was her first time outside of Khazmat, and she found herself entirely overwhelmed by the ease at which people seemed to socialise and make merry openly. Pinehearth was so different from the conservative towns of the nation of her birth. People strolled by in shockingly scandalous clothing for the weather, and the establishments served all kinds of exotic and expensive foods she'd never heard of.
She turned away from the street and unfolded a piece of paper from her pocket, creased all over from repeated reading. It was a letter from the Great Leader himself- well, it was from his retainer, which was the next best thing. Of course, a poor factory worker such as Ashra could never really get a letter from the Great Leader, so high above mortals was he. She remembered again the mix of emotions she felt recieving the summons; happiness at being chosen to represent the Glorious Great Holy Nation, sadness at having to leave behind her dear grandmother to somehow fend for herself, fear at what strange new things the world outside Khazmat would bring. Determination to bring honour to her family and to Khazmat, and to bring hope to all those less fortunate who could never get this chance.
Carefully refolding the letter, she thought back to what little she had managed to glean about her first opponent after a prolonged stint at an internet cafe, most of which was spent being guided by the store owner as to how to use the strange machine. He was a young prodigy from Schmiegelland, and Ashra was worried. Of course she didn't underestimate Jampoti. At the age he had won his scholarship, Ashra was still working 18-hour days churning out bootleg toys in a dim factory. He certainly would have plenty of skill, and what shame she would bring by losing in the first round to such a young, experienced opponent!

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and gripped the emblem of an ancient religion hanging from her neck.
Gujira smile upon me this day.

by **Stretta** » Mon Mar 25, 2013 5:56 am

It was a pretty long flight. Short bouts of sleep were all Charles could manage, and the lengthy periods in between he filled with e-books and computer chess. He yawned the whole journey, sipped his water by the millilitre, and managed a bagel in 3-hours flat. He was only flying out today because he couldn't quite afford to take the extra 2 days off of work to catch the first available flight. All he had was the cash in his pocket, and a large chunk of that had gone on the bagel. Most expensive piece of stale bread and partially-defrosted salmon he'd ever eaten. The cream cheese was of questionable origin. Budget-airlines were quickly racing their way up the list of things that Charles hated.

Upon landing, he found his hotel, located his room and flipped open his laptop to look at the schedule. Raymond Yarsley: previous champion. Alphonse Vrbas: more titles than a crime-writer. Greg Sova: wait. He didn't know who Greg Sova was. An internet search bought up a few articles about him playing in this competition. Charles fell back into his pillow and fell into sleep instantaneously.

He woke up 4 hours later, his head a mess. Something about a castle and a princess and some sewer-piping. He shook his head and looked at his watch. It was time to sign-in. He walked to the venue, which took a while. He must have been staying in the farthest hotel from the venue. 45 minutes later he arrived. He found the place to sign-in, studied the list of names while adjusting his glasses in an intellectual fashion, and then scribbled his signature beside it. "Charles Du Went: Stretta. Big curly C, a little du, a huge W and an incomphrehensible scrawl of unknown character length". Classy.

So, this was the tournament? He sat down in the lobby, removed his glasses and closed his eyes.

by **Kriegiersien** » Mon Mar 25, 2013 7:10 am

Analysing the game of an opponent from whom much was known, but even more not known, a human forced to compete and take part in tasks, like a zombie, that wasn't an easy thing.
These Bob from Darmen was an interesting case for a psychologist, but there was not much to look into concerning his chess skills.
Hubertus Schimmel shrugged, filling his ballonlike red body into the comforting chair and began a crossword puzzle in the lobby of his hotel, ordering a Milkshake.
British Chessmaster, 8 letters.

Hubertus groaned, put the newspaper away and openend his old bag, taking papers out. Howard Staunton from Tobys Great Britain. He had gotten computers helping him analysing games and as Sparring Partner (he still wasn't a big fan of this technique) and notes from his staff from Kriegiersien about every player.
"An aggressive play should put him under pressure."
Well, he was playing that way anyway.

He studied some games of Staunton, while watching a young man with blonde hair taking a nap in his seat some meters away. Didn't he know the face? He just couldn't keep apart these humans.

He took the notes for the last name out of the bag.
Castra Steenbergen
Nation: The Armed Republic of Steenbergen

He grinned while reading the notes. Classified. The Kriegiersien Miltary had goten some more secrets and informations about her, who where of no interest for chess. Cousin of the Founder of the Rebublic. The President of "his" country would have loved to have such a competitor. Weren't these two nations alike? Military, Soldiers, Killers. Bah. He watched some of her games on his little computer.
This tournament would be exciting.

by **Karditan** » Mon Mar 25, 2013 9:04 am

As is his personal tradition, Rook Slide was making his way to the ICC on his personal Pegasus chariot. Sure, hiring out two Royal Guards (the only Karditani Pegasi strong enough to make such a trip) is expensive, but he has plenty of spare funds. The Karditani Institute of Technology makes sure their long-time professors are compensated well for their years of service. Like the last time he'd made a trip like this--to Pawn & King for the Second ICC--he had another passenger with him; though instead of his old friendly rival Boralz Skrapinapavotla, it was his marefriend Lilly Bell. She was a chess amateur at best, but it was cute when she tried. He'd often let her win when they sparred, despite her always asking him not to.

They were having another match on the chariot, which is possible once the windguard is put up (it also has the added benefit of blocking the Guards' snarky comments). Lilly had her full concentration on the board, squinting at each piece trying to plot out all the possible moves. She scanned the other side of the board to see if Rook had any long-distance defenses set up to trip her up. A yellowish glow enveloped her horn and a black bishop hovered into the air, quivering, before slamming back into its original spot.

"Hmm?" Rook looked up from his tablet. "Did you make a move?"

Lilly continued to stare at the board. "No... not yet..."

"Alright, then. Tell me when you do." He returned to his tablet and brought up his e-mail, where a message from the Syndicatian organizers was sitting. Let's see who's in my group... it can't be Tyrece again, since it seems he's finally given up after three group-stage eliminations. Hrm... that Gunt fellow. As long as I don't let his size get to me, he should be relatively easy to beat. Julio Ramos... Chessipedia says he has a background very similar to mine, though he's at a much earlier stage, being half my age. Should be an interesting match-up, at least. And finally, there's Linda Baritone... from 'New Sideburn.' Huh. There's been an abnormally large amount of facial hair-related nations cropping up lately, with Bearded Moose also showing up... we used to only have 19th Century Beards. Well, Linda is most likely a woman, which means I *probably* won't be sparring with a pair of actual sideburns... but she likes quick play. Hrm. I might use a gambit to see if I can catch her on the wrong foot.

A clack resounds from beyond the electronic screen, followed by a triumphant "Aha!" A white knight was then surrounded by a bluish aura, moving up and knocking over a black rook.

Lilly stared at her upturned castle with a slightly slack jaw. Her chin glew blue and snapped up as Rook went about reserving a hotel room in Pinehearth. "Be careful, honey; you might catch an albatross this high up."

"Bu--wha--how? You didn't even look at the board! How did you know where I moved my rook?!"

Rook reached over and ruffled her mane. "This is a game of predictions, sweetie. There's a reason why I'm the one the KCA always sends."

by **Paradystopia** » Mon Mar 25, 2013 10:45 am

1.Nc3.

Kolb looked at the board.

Nothing. His mind went blank.

For the 2 weeks running up to the tournament he had been endeavoring to commit to memory some of the more esoteric openings. He had even tried to create his own but had only got as far as 1.h4 e5, 2. h5 ... before deciding that his idea of a flank attack opening was pretty poor. Back to 1.Nc3, how would he respond?

1. ... Nf6

Hmmm ... 2. Nf3 Nc6 ... Bah! Horse square. He reset the pieces.

1. Nc3 ...

He picked up the white knight on c3 and hurled it from his hotel window. Being a chessmaster was frustrating. Calming himself by channelling his anger, he focused on the competition ahead and flicked through a programme he found lying beneath a layer of fast-food wrappers.

Julio Ramos. A little older than him and from somewhere called Johamlandia, wherever that may be. The main word that sprung to mind when he thought of Johamlandian participant was 'nerd'. 'Advanced maths? Logic skills? Pfft!' Kolb could destroy nerds in his sleep, they seemed to frighten easier. This was his hope, to take the match beyond logic. After all, Kolb was the sort of guy who gets out-foxed by jam-jar lids.

Rook Slide. Oh yeah, the rhino-horse-guy-thingy. 'What's that about?' He knew Rook was a proven veteran in the international chess circuit and would probably be his hardest match of the group but an inflated sense of ego was doing its best to subdue these thoughts. 'Another nerd. Good grief!' Oh, and an ultra-defensive player too from what he could remember. 'Boring ...'

Linda Baritone. 'A woman. Just what I need ... '. Kolb didn't like facing women. He just found it easier to imtimidate members of his own gender. This had led him to question his sexuality before although he had come to the conclusion that just because he could petrify a male competitor did not make him find them anymore attractive. Also, the chess crowd were all geeks and nerds. He doubted that any of them had heard of the Paradystopi hyper-thrash metal band 'Turbodeathfilth', appreciation of such things would be tantamount to perfection in a potential partner. He pictured Linda in a gothicky black velvet dress, moshing to some grindcore ... then realised this would hardly help him defeat her at chess.

Openings.

1. Nc ...

Kolb cursed. He was now missing a knight. Looking forlornly from his window, he tore a page from the programme. 'Like I care about group D'. Crushing the paper into a small ball, he placed it upon c3.

1. Nc3 ...

Hmmmm ...

Shortly after, the black king, a black rook, the white queen and three white pawns exited the window in pursuit of the knight.

by **The Inevitable Syndicate** » Mon Mar 25, 2013 2:41 pm

Raymond was a rather pleased man. He had arrived in Pinehearth, coming from Diomede, his home city, to try and defend his crown in the Fourth International Chess Championship. The SAC had spared no expense in accommodating him, as as he stood outside the Drift Towers Hotel. Drift Towers was one of the best hotels in the Syndicate – it had won an award for exemplary service three years in a row, and Raymond was quite content with his furnishings.

As he stood outside, checking his Syndicatian EyeGlass for the group listings, a white knight fell on his head.

Ow, that really bloody hurt, Raymond thought. Anyway, I'm in Group C. Greg Sova... Leader of The Sova Empire? Blimey, I'm sure government officials will be storming the institute. Who else... Charles Du Went... Yes, heard of him. Nerdy, like myself. Think I met him online once...

Raymond stepped inside, as it was beginning to snow, as a clatter of various other chess pieces fell towards the ground where he had stood.

After making himself comfortable in his room, and responding to various messages from the other members of his team, he had a think about his final opponent.

Alphonse Vrbas. We briefly met last championship. He plays quite defensively. Like I used to. Interesting. We'll see how things go..

* * *

“Greetings chessmasters!” The building shook with the booming voice of Thomas Burke, who had stepped in to fill the role of general presenter, seeing as Raymond couldn't. “And welcome to the Fourth International Chess Championship! Here we can see who is truly the king or queen of chess! I thank you all very much for jetting so far to the cold wastes of Pinehearth, but I can assure you, it won't be like this for too long. If you've been keeping up with the news, it seems that the climate of the country is changing for the worse. Anyway, enough about our troubles, lets see you face yours! Let the games begin!”

The electronic screen that had been placed in the hall flickered to life, showing the games that were to be played, as well as pictures, camera shots of the chessboard, and more information. The chessmasters retreated to their tables, and began what would be the first of many battles.

MD1 Cutoff, results to follow!

by **The Inevitable Syndicate** » Mon Mar 25, 2013 2:45 pm

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

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

Group B
Kolb Gunt (Paradystopia) ½–½ Linda Baritone (New Sideburn)
Julio Ramos (Johamlandia) 0–1 Rook Slide (Karditan)

  Group B                                    Pld   W  D  L   PF  PA  PD  Pts                      
1 Rook Slide                                   1   1  0  0    1   0  +1    2     
2 Kolb Gunt                                    1   0  1  0  0.5 0.5   0    1   
  Linda Baritone                               1   0  1  0  0.5 0.5   0    1     
4 Julio Ramos                                  1   0  0  1    0   1  −1    0    

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

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

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

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

by **Stretta** » Tue Mar 26, 2013 4:09 am

Charles had some odd dreams again. He could have sworn he had woken up briefly to see...

Then he actually woke up. He looked through the blurred world to a big red something. He rubbed his eyes and located his glasses. Then he realised that it was standing up, and then realised that the tournament was starting, and then realised... Oh no, the tournament. He followed what could only be described as a strawberry-esque man into the main hall. His heart sank when he saw who he was up against. This was going to be brutal. An actual world champion? Yikes.

The game was nowhere near as easy as Charles had expected, and considering he believed that he was about to get whipped into a new circle of a previously unexplored hell where people spent eternity being nibbled on by life-sized pawns with treacherous fanged mouths, that was saying something. He was trembling at the start. He shook Raymond's hand, resisted the urge to talk about one of Raymond's greatest games, and took his seat. This is it. He had drawn black. Previous games that he had seen flashed back to him. Mr Amor V Raymond Yarsley, 3rd ICC, a stalemate. He had started the same way as in that game. Charles decided to play the first few moves in the same fashion as Raymond had. After all, he had studied this game on his chess computer, and had found an early way to change the flow of the game, and bring it around to his style of play. He thought he had found a way for Raymond to win that game instead of draw.

For all the good that did. He stood up defeated, but tall, shook hands again, congratulated Raymond on a game well played, and adjusted his glasses before proceeding to take a seat, where he could watch the other games unfold. Not a good start, du Went. Not a good start. He felt better after his nap though. Jet lag was dissapearing, or being taken over. Doubt was creeping in. Am I really good enough to be here?

That's when he saw the strawberry man again. Fascinated, he just looked at him. Stared would be a better verb to describe what Charles was actually doing. Staring at the man. The strawberry. The world was a wierd place.

by **Kriegiersien** » Tue Mar 26, 2013 5:11 am

Ah, game time. Hubertus lifted himself out of the chair to move to the gaming room. He was somewhat confused until he had found the right table, first sitting down opposite to the man called Bob, before a referee adressed him kindly and escorted him to another board. This had to be the human woman. Mrs. Steenberg. He shook her hand trying to read her mimic, failing again.
Today an opening with the knight. They moved rapidly until it got more complicated and they both had to take their time.

He had to stand up to make moves farer away of his side, as his arms were too short, until someone gave him some cushions to sit more comfortly and shoved his seat nearer to the board. He thanked politely and made his move. Roachade. Every time his opponent needed a bit longer he looked around. The blonde man starred at him. Or was he watching the game? He waved at him, smiling, when a cough from someone remembered him to make his move.

He sacrificed his queen against a pawn, trapping his adversary in the corner. After some moments of thinking she resigned. They shook hands and he hopped from his chair.

He strolled back to the lobby, when he saw the blonde man, still staring at him. Hubertus starred back, walked to him and stretched out his hand. "Hubertus Schimmel. I'm sorry to aks, I have my problem with faces. Have we met before?"

Someone of his staff suddenly appeared and pulled at his arm.
"Mr. Schimmel, you wanted to make a tour through the town, to see something from the region between the games. The bus is waiting", he hissed.
Where did these guys always came from? He was sure they had send Ninjas with him or some sort of obscure spies. Chess wasn't their primary skill, he was sure about that.
"Maybe Mr.. Mr.. wait... Went?.. wants to accompany us, the brochure says Pinehearth is a great place to visit. Crystal of the North and so on...could you stop pulling me?", he said while the black suited man gently dragged him to the door.

by **Karditan** » Tue Mar 26, 2013 11:56 am

Rook looked at the Syndicatian assistant, confusion evident on his face. "Are you sure? I could have sworn the schedule said I was to face Linda Baritone today."

"That's not what this memo says." The assistant looked back down at the paper in his hands. "Group B, Match 2, Rook Slide versus Julio Ramos, Table 2. And then my name, because it's my job to get you two together."

"Well... it seems Miss Baritone has already begun a match with Gunt, so I must have misread the schedule. Thanks for correction."

"Not a problem, sir."

The unicorn mentally shrugged and started to make his way over to the indicated table, where Julio was already waiting. He offered a hoof across the table to the Johamlandian, who took a moment before realizing it was an invitation for a hand/hoof shake. Following the exchange of pleasantries, they sat down and Julio moved his first pawn.

[several moves later] I... have no idea what strategy he is using. Despite his best effort to learn the strategies developed in a strange place called "RL"--openings and gambits preceded by odd names such as "Italian" and "Polish"--the bulk of Rook's chess knowledge was still based in the strategies native to Karditan and Ayalis (that latter thanks to Boralz's tutelage), which caused some rather odd mismatches on the board.

That's alright, this happens a lot... I just have to focus on keeping my pieces, and an opportunity will open eventually. He adopted a slightly modified Sandcastle defense, intent on drawing the game out until the man half his age made a mistake. In the end, what appeared to be a fairly inconsequential shift of a white knight (Julio was preempting a possible slide of Rook's rook that had the potential to cause trouble, and he had no other clear moves) ended up proving crucial. A clever placement of the black queen kept the white knight locked in place, leaving an opening for a black bishop to exploit and send the white king into a series of checks that culminated in Rook collecting both points.

Now I just wonder who I'll be playing next, since this schedule seems to be incorrect...

by **The Inevitable Syndicate** » Tue Mar 26, 2013 1:00 pm

Raymond was rather pleased with himself - after a rather tense opening, that oddly reminded him of days gone by, he was able to pull off a win. As he shook Du Went's hand, Raymond could see an odd feeling in his eyes. It seemed like awe, but Raymond shook it off. He was good, but not good enough to enthrall anyone.
As he went back to the Hotel Room, Laura Verreau passed him on the street. It was the opening night of the Pinhearth Lights Festival, a yearly event that last a week, and showcases why they truly call this place the 'Crystal of the North'. Of course, with the news reports circling around, they wouldn't be doing this for much longer, as the climate would be too different, so Raymond jumped at the chance when Laura invited him ice skating.
The city was lit with various awnings and displays - for a rather cutting edge, business focused inner city, Pinehearth still had a odd chilly charm to it. Whether it was the sheen as the ice covered some of the skyscrapers, or the wonderful parks that were covered in snow, or the view in the distance of the Mertagne Mountains, that decresingly seperated the chills of the city from the deserts on the other side, there was just something that... Worked. Something that really made it quite perfect for the headquarters of a 'ruthless' chess organisation.
The next morning, Raymond made his way down to the hall, ready for another game in the tournament. This would be against Greg Sova, leader of the Sova Empire. Yarsley would have feared that his head would end up on a plate should he win, but he was on home turf, so nothing too bad could happen. He still had a little bit of a headache from that rouge chess piece a few days ago, but he was sure that wouldn't impede his progress too much...

MD2 Cutoff, Results to follow!

by **The Inevitable Syndicate** » Tue Mar 26, 2013 1:02 pm

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

  Group A                                    Pld   W  D  L   PF  PA  PD  Pts                      
1 Dr. Hubertus Schimmel                         2   2  0  0    2   0  +2    4     
2 Bob                                          2   1  0  1    1   1   0    2    
3 Castra Steenbergen                           2   0  1  1  0.5 1.5  −1    1  
  Howard Staunton                              2   0  1  1  0.5 1.5  −1    1    

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

  Group B                                    Pld   W  D  L   PF  PA  PD  Pts                      
1 Rook Slide                                   2   2  0  0    2   0  +2    4     
2 Kolb Gunt                                    2   1  1  0  1.5 0.5  +1    3  
3 Linda Baritone                               2   0  1  1  0.5 1.5  −1    1   
4 Julio Ramos                                  2   0  0  2    0   2  −2    0   

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

  Group C                                    Pld   W  D  L   PF  PA  PD  Pts                      
1 Raymond Yarsley                              2   1  1  0  1.5 0.5  +1    3     
2 Charles Du Went                              2   1  0  1    1   1   0    2    
3 Alphonse Vrbas                               2   1  0  1    1   1   0    2    
4 Greg Sova                                    2   0  1  1  0.5 1.5  −1    1  

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

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

by **Kriegiersien** » Tue Mar 26, 2013 1:54 pm

Two of his 'Bodyguards" had both his arms in their grips and they carried him so fast to his board, that his feet hadn't touched the ground since they had jumped out of the bus.
"The game is starting soon, Mr. Schimmel."
They put him on his seat.
"Thanks, boys", he said grimm, giving one of them his ice cream. "And it is Dr. Schimmel for you", he said to himself.
He turned after the two had left him and suddenly vanished (how?), seeing Bob on the other side of the table. They shook hands.

This game was fast paced, also his opponent seemed very calm. Did he just try a Fool's mate? After losing both of his bishops he was only an A8 away to win the game if not ...no.. Bob took the bait, consumed his rook... check mate. He nodded and they shook hands. Now he had time to watch the other matches.

Murmurs in the audience when Raymond Yarsley, the high rated player from the host country accepted a draw. Hubertus watched the games of the horse... unicorn... he just couldn't keep apart these ponies, Rook Slide, of the young man he had just learned about, Charles du Went, both in good positions already and how Castra Steenbergen and Howard Staunton seemed to equalize each other.

He asked himself if he would get the chance to go ice skating or sitting cozy in a café with nice view before the next round.

by **The Sova Empire** » Tue Mar 26, 2013 1:59 pm

(OOC to "The Inevitable Syndicate": Greg Sova, while he is known to have a temper, is supposed to be benevolent. Nice RP idea, though.)

Greg Sova was practicing before his next match in his private room in the capital city of New Bethlehem. His assistant (and identical twin) Tom Sova walked into his room with a stack of papers.

"What are you doing?" Tom glanced over an 8X8 checkerboard with pieces seemingly placed at random.

"Practicing chess. There's gotta be a way to get the youth in our nation in educational and strategic games such as chess. I am trying to lead by example." Greg examined the board and moved a pawn forward. "Nope, that wouldn't do it..." he muttered to himself.

"So....what do you actually do?" Tom looked on with a quizzical glance.

Greg looked up, shook his head and reset all of the pieces. "Clearly, I need to worry about the adults too. Basically, I'm trying to kill the other king before he kills mine."

After a long, awkward pause, Tom took the stack of papers and set them on the board, knocking all the black pieces off. "You have bigger things to worry about. You have 3 telegrams, 2 issues, and 1 BIG news article. Take a look!"

Tom turned the flatscreen on to a riot on the streets a few blocks from the Capital Building. Apparently, there has been news of the fall of all regions, and as the WA delegate of the region, people were shocked. Also, Greg thumbed through the issues. Government funded baseball and fiscal rewards for organs. The telegrams were unimportant.

"This can wait. I've lost to a pro and forced a draw with the defending champ. I might win if I just practice a little more. Claim the "region falling" news is the April Fools joke, form the Government Baseball League, and dismiss the cash for colons. I'm sure the doctors will get by fine. But for now, help me pick up the pieces you've knocked over. I've got to prepare for my match against the "geek" from Stretta. Charles Du Went is his name, and he's 1-0-1 while I'm only 0-1-1."

Tom stormed out. "He's always been the politician." Greg muttered as he picked the pieces himself.

by **New Sideburn** » Tue Mar 26, 2013 2:58 pm

"Stalemate."
Linda licked her lips. She didn't like the feel of that word, not one bit. When you reached that kind of ending in New Sideburn, you went straight back to the start and fought again until you were done, one way or another.

Granted, as Linda discovered only the following day, "defeat" tasted even worse. Linda's faithful biographer, Franz, was constantly over her shoulder writing down everything she said and did, and it was... well, it was bloody unnerving, for one thing. And he'd done his bloody homework, too... knew more about her than she did herself. This was getting to be unsettling... nothing more to do than just beat whoever was next, though. That was all it ever came down to.

by **Paradystopia** » Tue Mar 26, 2013 5:51 pm

Kolb pumped his fist in the air as he left Julio Ramos gazing blankly at the table. Like most of Kolb's unfortunate opponents, he was probably trying to work out at what point in the match he had forgotten to play chess and succumbed to the simple brute. To rub salt into the wound, Kolb was also a graceless victor.

"Woooo! Bring on the horse!"

Two Karditani in the crowd shared a perplexed glance as they weren't quite sure whether he was being racist against their champion, expressing a desire for recreational drugs or alluding to Raymond Yarsley's new anecdote about his bruised head. Needless to say, whatever his meaning, they weren't going to approach him for clarification.

If Kolb could defeat Rook, he would top the group. Granted, had he defeated Linda Baritone, he would be sharing the top spot with the 'rhino-horse-thingy' of Karditan. That match had been tense, time was slowly ticking away and after many moves in which Kolb failed to find checkmate against Linda's strong defense, he presented her a large sweaty palm and grunted 'stalemate'. She accepted the draw, echoed the word 'stalemate' and managed to delicately disguise her repulsion at having to actually touch Kolb as disgust over a poor result.

Leaving the arena, Kolb reached for his phone and with a fat, stubby finger opened an internet browser and entered his query.

SEARCH:

how do you intimidate a horse?

by **Khazmatistan** » Tue Mar 26, 2013 8:51 pm

The first match with Alexandra Turner had left Ashra stressed out that night. She'd lost some pieces early in the game to her opponent's aggressive opening and had just managed to hold out long enough for a stalemate.
Still worried about her upcoming match with Jampoti Lazarki, she'd foregone the celebrations that night to fit in some extra practice, but as her victory over Schmiegelland's representative was confirmed to applause, she sighed with relief that she'd had nothing to worry about.
The scoreboard now marked her tied for first place in her group with Victoria Valdemar, whom she was scheduled to face next round. While she would normally be stressing over having to meet such a skilled opponent, especially considering that her streak so far had just been down to luck, she was in a very good mood after the results of the tournament to date, and had decided to explore the city some and take in the sights. Besides, she was white this time, so she'd have a slight advantage. The lights hanging up from the festival taunted Ashra from her window as she took the time to write a quick, heartfelt letter to her grandmother back home.

My dear otosha,

I hope you are well. I know that we do not have television at home, so if the news has not reached you by now, I am doing quite well in the tournament. I am tied for first place in my division with my next opponent. The great serpent has watched over me even outside the Holy Land, and I am confident that I will do proud to you and to our nation.
I hope that Razhul is treating you well in my stead. This city is truly amazing, but I am greatly missing the wide plains of home.

Shat kuliah,
Ashra

by **Stretta** » Wed Mar 27, 2013 2:59 am

"I would love..." Hubertus Schimmel had dissapeared. Literally. The men rounded a corner and Charles followed uttering his reply, but there was nobody there. Not 'they were lost in a crowd' either. There was nobody. He sighed. His shoulders slumped forward, he looked to the ground and turned around to take a last look at the hall, before leaving for the hotel. He needed to rest.

He walked through the town of Pinehearth, hugging his coat tight to his body. The evening was cold. He decided to stop off halfway in one of the restaurants for a cup of coffee to warm his bones. Sitting at the window he watched the town as it worked and played. It was the first time he had found an opportunity to do so, and it was surprising. Despite the bitter weather, the place was very much alive. Locals went to and fro enjoying their evenings, dipping into restaurants and moving towards the ice rink. And that's when he noticed it. The ice rink. Back in Stretta where ice hockey was a big sport, there were many of these, but to see one outdoors was something new. He finished up his coffee and made his way over to the rink. Standing on the side, he watched couples dance and children struggle to find their feet. Here he spent a few hours, before he realised that the time had gone 11, and he was still half an hour from the hotel. He would save up his spending money and treat himself to a skate, he decided.

The next morning, Charles awoke to a fierce sunlight entering through the crack in his curtain. It's the sunlight you can only get from being surrounded by white reflective surfaces, the brightness of which is paralleled only by looking directly into the mid-day sun. He went to the tap for a glass of water, then went to his computer. After his thorough thrashing by Raymond Yarsley, he had to bring this tournament around. Alphonse Vrbas was next. He had beaten Sova, and had a large number of titles under his belt, but Charles decided he was no different to Raymond. He should just play his game. Remain hypermodern in style, and push for that opening. Always push. That was the way he had learnt.

He found himself at the tournament, and saw Hubertus Schimmel being manhandled once again. I wonder why they accompany him. Maybe it's his work. That's when Charles saw Greg Sova for the first time, or who he assumed Sova to be, squaring off against Raymond Yarsley. He would have to watch this match to get a guage on the man and his chess. Still, this was present day, and he settled into his own seat. The other side of the table was empty for a few moments, before Vrbas took his seat. They exchanged the pleasantries and then got down to it.

A strong centre defence was put up, and pulled apart by Charles with a risky, yet effective, piece exchange. That left a couple of lanes of attack open. This was the du Went game that everybody went on about in magazines. He continued to move on the throat of his opponent. For such a weak man in appearance, his style of chess was ruthless and at times ridiculously aggressive. There was absolute focus on his face. He couldn't spend all this money just to leave in the group round. Push it, Charles. Before he knew it, the match was over. The familiar phrase of "checkmate" sounded like it had come from somebody else's mouth. He stared at the board for a few moments longer, before looking up at Vrbas. Then it dawned on him, and he proffered his hand.

One win and one loss. After leaving his seat, he half skipped to his vantage point of yesterday, and looked on at the other games. The "in progress" league table for group C was on his screen briefly, and he saw himself joint first with Raymond. Then it quickly changed. Second. He looked over to the Greg Sova/Raymond Yarsley game. Stalemate? He would have to be careful of this Sova character.

Then Schimmel caught his eye. Charles waved at him. He seemed to be playing well. That's when he noticed a couple of rather large men staring at him.

A wave of panic crossed Charles' mind.

by **Karditan** » Wed Mar 27, 2013 9:57 am

...is he allowed to stand that close? Rook gave his best intimidating stare to the man hovering behind Linda, to try and scare him away from the table. But a stare from a pastel-colored horse doesn't have quite the same effect as one from... say, Gunt. It also didn't help that Franz's eyes never seemed to leave Linda's figure. Though I can hardly blame him for that... she is very attractive, at least for a human.

Linda's play seemed to have the slightest tinge of desperation. After what would often be considered a disappointing draw to Gunt, her already very attacking play sped up even further as she grasped for a win to right the ship. Rook didn't even need to set up a gambit for her to take the wrong piece and stumble into a trap; she lurched one of her bishops out of position to snap up a hanging black pawn, which let Rook's rook advance into a much higher-pressure position. Said pawn did have an outside chance of queening, but she soon realized her mistake and started to backtrack to a more defensive position. For someone normally characterized as a very offensive player, Linda did do a very good job at putting together an emergency defense, very nearly drawing the match out into a stalemate. Unfortunately for her, the hyper-defensive pony across the table picked up some knowledge on how to finish a match in his decades of experience. He managed to salvage the win out of a situation that rapidly seemed to be approaching a draw, a hoofful of unorthodox moves locking the white King in a rather awkward position.

Following the awkward hand/hoofshake upon 'checkmate', Rook made his way out of the arena and telekinetically brought up his tablet's browser.

SEARCH:

How do you intimidate someone much larger than you?

by **The Inevitable Syndicate** » Wed Mar 27, 2013 1:01 pm

Greg Sova, as it happened, actually wasn't as bad as Raymond initally thought. He went with a rather strong opening, and Raymond could see that he wasn't planning on playing the long game. Just to test the water, and also to make him suffer a little bit, Yarsley danced his piecees around the board, preventing most of them from being taken. Sova reacted to this, and ended up in a rather awkward position in which Yarsley's queen, two rooks, and a knight had boxed in a majority of Sova's pieces. Now, this would be fantastic, if Sova hadn't of managed a brilliant display and completely catch Yarsley off guard, taking the knight, the queen, and one of the rooks in a stroke of genius.

The game contiuned on, and eventually the other Grandmasters were watching intently. The two could only muster a draw, and as Raymond got up to shake Sova's hand, he saw a look of pride in the man's eyes. Understandable, Raymond thought. He's just tied against the incumbent champion. I'd be rather proud of that. Raymond shook hands, and looked at the scoreboard. Three points. He was still on top, just about. He looked around the room. Valdemar was still playing Turner. He shot her a smile. She was to engrossed to respond. He saw Julio Ramos look perplexed at a table as Gunt pumped his fist in the air, and shouted something about a horse. Ah, yes. The Karditani. Rook Slide. I fought him in the final. We'll see if I have to tackle him again...

After the game, Raymond recieved a message on his EyeGlass. It was anonymous, which in this day and age was quite concerning. Hesitantly, he opened it, and it read thus:

To: <raymondyarsley@claycomms.co.is> GM Raymond Yarsley, The Inevitable Syndicate
From: <l@sia.is> L, Syndicatian Intelligence Agency, Fligsive, The Inevitable Syndicate
Encryption: High
Dear YARSLEY, RAYMOND,
It has come to our attention that you are an exceptionally gifted individual, that has a variety of theorectical and practical skills. The Syndicatian government is looking for individuals such as yourself to gather intelligence for a reconnisance and collection mission in the neighbouring country of Ahlenfi. As you are probably aware, there are many reports in the news that the country is undergoing severe climate change. This is not natural. The Syndicate are being attacked, and we need you to help stop it. By accepting, you acknowledge that you will be helping agents in the field with information and satellite projections.
We also know you are currently competing a chess tournament at the moment. The SIA wishes to tell you that high-speed transport options will be available from HQ to Pinehearth, so you don't miss anything, but you may wish to get those chess games over and done with.
We hope to see you at mission briefing tomorrow at 7pm,
L
Syndicatian Intelligence Agency
<this message was delived through the DataLink using SyndiTek Data Encryption it will be destroyed
 2 minutes after the message is opened, and copies or screenshots are not able to be made>

MD3 Cutoff, Results to follow!

by **The Inevitable Syndicate** » Wed Mar 27, 2013 1:03 pm

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

  Group A                                    Pld   W  D  L   PF  PA  PD  Pts                      
1 Dr. Hubertus Schimmel                         3   2  0  1    2   1  +1    4    
2 Bob                                          3   2  0  1    2   1  +1    4    
3 Howard Staunton                              3   1  1  1  1.5 1.5   0    3   
4 Castra Steenbergen                           3   0  1  2  0.5 2.5  −2    1  

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

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

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

  Group C                                    Pld   W  D  L   PF  PA  PD  Pts                      
1 Raymond Yarsley                              3   2  1  0  2.5 0.5  +2    5    
2 Charles Du Went                              3   2  0  1    2   1  +1    4    
3 Alphonse Vrbas                               3   1  0  2    1   2  −1    2    
4 Greg Sova                                    3   0  1  2  0.5 2.5  −2    1 

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

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

by **Khazmatistan** » Wed Mar 27, 2013 9:22 pm

Another stalemate. Alexandra Turner had foiled Ashra's opening and pushed her onto the ropes. But at least she hadn't lost. Looking at the updated scoreboard, Ashra was glad to see that she was still tied for first due to not having lost a round yet. She intended to keep that streak, opting to stay in for the day with some calming music, prayer and practice. After her recent draws, she'd have to work more on reversing an opponent's lead...

by **Kriegiersien** » Thu Mar 28, 2013 3:05 am

Hubertus nearly had set a skate on the ice, after a long search for the right skates, when someone graped him.
"You have to be kidding me", he thought, while taken away by his bodyguardninjas.
"Despite what my age and size would suggest to you, I am an adult, and can arrange my games myself."
"It is a hard schedule and you have to be properly prepared", one of them said. His name was Frank, if he remembered right.
"I'm making my preperations myself, thank you!", Hubertus cried.

When sitting later at the board he was still angry. He thought of losing the game deliberately, but then decided against it. Still, he had somewhat lost focus. When he in addition lost a knight through a terrible mistake he was really irritated and another fault brought him over the edge. He kicked his king and shaked hands.

He hopped down and looked out for his "Staff". That was pretty hard, they just appeared when he didn't needed them.
He took a deep breathe, looked around and looked for a place to watch the other matches. He was sitting there for a short time and then, suddenly, one of them was standing beside him.

"Ah. Listen, errr.. Frank. I am making my own schedule now. I have a watch, a diary and I am a smart boy. I'll find the way and if you drag me to the next game by force again..."
"The schedule here is very.."
"...then I will lose again and blame it on you."
Silence.
Hubertus smiled to himself and hoped it had worked. He watched the remaining games and thought of chocolate.
Bob was clearly winning. The pony again. Charles looked good, also Yarsley. Hubertus started to make some notes.

Fourth International Chess Championship [RP/Scores]

Fourth International Chess Championship [RP/Scores]

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