The Game
Tucked away deep within the Siberian wilderness, there was a kingdom that stretched across its permafrost-covered plains and hills and beyond. It is said that the sun never set on it, and that gold flowed through it like water through a river. Rich barons ruled enormous swathes of land from castles with gilded streets and rooms of pure silver. The wealth and power this kingdom had not only gained it many friends, but also had gave it a unbeatable sense of arrogance and a fair number of enemies. One of their greatest enemies was a kingdom located just beyond its southern borders. It was similar in many ways to the opposing kingdom: Rich, powerful, many allies, many enemies. Once they were part of a single greater kingdom, but long ago, they split over some petty dispute. It also shared a unique form of succession in the form of a incredibly complicated board game. It was designed not to prove physical strength, but rather how intelligent, clever, and adaptable you were. Since the split, the Game had been used only three times, in desperate bids to end the long war between them. However, it would be on this day that the war would finally end.
A small group of travellers, led by an old prince and his loyal bodyguard, made their way north from the deserts of their homeland. In a large cart was a immense box, featureless aside from a single brass lock on the front. After slowly making their way to the capital of Siberian Kingdom, they were stopped by a guard. “Oi, you there! What brings ya to the gates of my city?” he questioned. The prince replied, “I come to speak with your king, to finally end the war between our two great kingdoms.” The guard didn’t even have to ask him who he was after he spoke. The prince was none other than the legendary Nungal, the hero of a thousand battles and the so-called Master of the Game. The Prince continued, saying, “If you know who I am, you know what is in that cart. And if you know what is in that cart, you know what will happen if you don’t let me in.” The guard nodded panicky, and ordered the gate opened.
Within hours, he was granted an audience before the King of his enemies’ people. “You stand before the High King Alexander the II, Lord of the Steel Throne and Master of the Ten Peaks. Make your case, and make you speak quickly and with purpose: He is not a patient man.” Alexander’s herald declared. The High King was not like your typically king. He was not wise and strong, but instead was fat, cruel, and claimed to have the cunning of a fox. All this was overshadowed by his sense of arrogance.
With the box in front of him, the Prince stood before the High King and said, “Hello, Alexander. It has been a long time since we’ve seen each other. Last time we saw each other, you sai-” Alexander interrupted and said, “Yes, yes, I said that next time we’d meet, it’d be a certain someone’s body in a coffin. What do you want?” With the smile of a slightly disgusted and annoyed man, he simply patted the box. Alexander smiled back, but rather with that of an evil man harboring evil intentions. His wants were many, like wealth and land, but above all he desired power. “Ah, you want to play the game! Your throne to my collection or my throne to your collection. But why should I play the game of squabbling desert chiefs and petty kings?” he hissed.
The Prince predicted this. The High King was like every generic villain in the old legends and tales. He had one weakness that was concealed behind threats, lies, and a thick layer of arrogance. And Alexander’s weakness was that he feared the Game. So, Nungal would meet him with a generic response of his own. “Because, Alexander, I challenge you to a round of the Game.” the Prince said. To deny this challenge would challenge the belief that the High King never backed down from a challenge, regardless of what it was, and therefore weaken what he held most dear, power. After a moment of consideration, Alexander reluctantly agreed. “Let us begin, then. Bring me the key.” the Prince said. His bodyguard rushed over to his side, carrying a large brass key. The Prince took it, and following the click of the lock unlocking, the box opened.
Now open, the box displayed its elboarte insides for all to see. A single checker board sat in the middle, surrounded by buttons, knobs, and all sorts of machines. Each little box on the board activated its own machine, starting an seemingly endless trial that had to be found somewhere within the machine. And in each of the four corners of the board was a button of gold and ivory, with a strange icon engraved on them. Alexander looked at it with hate, anxiety, and most of all, fear. He knew that only one could win the game, and the loser would never play again. The Prince, on the other hand, was confident and ready. “So, shall we begin?” he said. The King rose from his seat, with sweat covering him, and slowly approached the Game like he was to be hanged. “Bu-, but the rules! What about them, eh?” he stammered. The Prince grinned and said, “For the sake of time, we have only a few rules: The challenged goes first, no outside interference, no one leaves here till the Game is over.” Alexander had swiftly lost his overconfident attitude, and looked at the board before him. ‘Will ultimate power be mine, or will I join those before me in the afterlife?’ he thought. Everything came down to this. The thought of ultimate power allowed him to regain some of his former calm, and soon he was sitting on a slab of stone in the center of his hall. “By the gods, let’s get this over with.” he muttered. The Prince nods, and says…
“So what will your first move be?”
