Article from the news magazine The New Week National Atlantic News Spectating Economist Time Man.
- In A Land Of Peaceful Pachyderms, A Pavolan Friendship Splinters Darkly
It was a heartwarming story. Chess players from Græntfjall and Bollonich coming together to compete as one unified team, casting off decades of Cold War enmity. Before the two states had even normalized relations, they were working together across a chess board. It was a story with a fairy tale ending, too, as they triumphed in South Newlandia, raising the inaugural Elephant Chess Cup together. The fairy godmother kept on smiling for the second edition, as the same team defended their title, while away from the chessboard Græntfjall and Bollonich signed a major trade deal, cooperated in refugee resettlement, and joined the growing sense of Pavolan fraternity. All that would be needed for the sports story to ascend into truly magical territory would be a ‘three-peat’ at the third edition of the ECC. And that’s where the story grinds to a halt, or at least, is no longer one of the fairies. For Græntfjall and Bollonich will not be competing as friends in South Newlandia this time around, but as adversaries: and not just across the chess board.
The abrupt cooling in Græntfjaller-Bollonischian relations (pity the next generation of IR professors who have to work out that mouthful!) dates long back into the 20th century and the era of Græntfjaller communism. Whites (the term for Græntfjaller anti-communists, a mixture of minor royalty and nobles, and military senior staff) fled the shores of the Queendom to Hofvinger, the exclave north of the Komodo Channel. There, they created an anti-communist holdout fiefdom, which Græntfjall refused to recognize as an independent state. Bollonich cooperated with the Hofvinger exiles and in return was ceded land on the eastern half of the peninsula.

Map of northern Græntfjall and Bollonich

Detail showing the Hofvinger exclave and territory ceded to Bollonich
Græntfjall gave up communism more than 30 years, and Hofvinger Exclave quickly rejoined the fold, reuniting with the Queendom. Not so the eastern portion ceded to Bollonich. Græntfjall had never renounced its claim of sovereignty (though had largely stopped actively pressing the matter in light of the disastrous military failure that ensued when it attempted to forcibly reclaim the peninsula). Ever since, while relations between the two country have opened up and trade deals, the issue of what Græntfjallers call “Eastern Hofvinger” to the great irritation of their Bollonischian counterparts has remained a thorn lingering in the side of any true pacification. One that, if reports are to be believed, may be the on the verge of digging a little deeper…
[Continued on Page. 7
“I really have no idea!”
Kaija Michaelsdóttir threw up her hands in exasperation. Chess was one of those things she thought was a lovely thing to have in the world – a game of pure intellectual skill, the elegant simplicity of it all – while knowing almost nothing about it. She dimly remembered that the horses weren’t called horses. And yet, here she was, over a chessboard. A magnificent chessboard, of ivory and onyx. Gifted to her by the Ambassador from the Kingdom of Sabuja Parbata. She almost dared not touch it.
“It’s easy,” said Guðjón, her husband, encouragingly. He was a keen chess player, and at one point had been ranked nationally, though he was rather rusty. The other day some 11 year old had beaten him at online chess and the blow to his ego had been immeasurable.
“Look at the board, and choose a piece to move. Do you want a hint?”
She nodded desperately. After their latest argument, they’d agree to put together some time – one hour a week – just as a couple. Away from the demands of civil service reform and collective bargaining agreements and intelligence analyses. One hour, where they could be together. Which, she felt she had to give him, after all he’d borne for her. Only – did they really have to spend that hour playing chess?
“OK. Why don’t you move this piece out?” he suggested, tapping one of the small white things.
“My prawn.” If they’d spent the hour cooking a lovely savory curry, hmm, she could almost smell it…
“Pawn, but yes.”
“Porn?”
He sighed. “Kaija, just move the piece.”
An hour spent watching porn. Now there was a way they could reconnect as a couple.
“KAIJA MOVE THE FUCKING PAWN GOD DAMMIT!?”
She moved the piece. Guðjón sighed, visibly relaxing.
“I’m so glad we’re spending this time together, honey…”
“Mmm. Now, that’s a standard opening. It’s called a King’s Pawn game. ‘One, e four’. OK?”
“OK. A standard opening sounds good…”
WIRE REPORT: The Hvíturriddari heavy cruiser has transgressed the 24 nautical mile territorial limit of Bollonischian sovereign waters, heading through the Komodo Channel towards the northern exclave territory formerly known as Eastern Hofvinger…















