Post by Ascanio Giovanni on May 31, 2014 2:01:02 GMT -8
The Don sat in his sitting room, the shadows cast by the wingback armchair from the small fire dancing on the walls. He sighed contentedly as he sipped the nicely chilled glass of spiced blood and looked down at the chessboard before him. Considering his position he moved his bishop to threaten the white queen away from her dominant position.
A rather obvious bluff, but Enzio is always too eager. He never did learn the lesson of watching the full board.
Almost immediately and apparently of its own volition, the white queen moved back to defend herself, leaving the knight vulnerable. A small smile crossed the Don’s lips as he looked across at his opponent. To his servants and security cameras, it would appear as though the Don was playing himself, but he could see the translucent figure of Enzio Anzalone, his prize catch. Enzio was a remarkable craftsman and technological genius, but as with many geniuses, he tended toward tunnel vision.
The Don took Enzio’s knight with his waiting rook, and smiled up at his invisible opponent. “Scacco," he said calmly, taking another sip from his glass. This was wonderful. A night spent playing chess and given to nothing more urgent than considering long game strategy. Such nights had become rather few and far between since he took command in Seattle.
I suppose I had no right to expect anything less, the Don mused to himself as he studied the board, planning strategy to take this game from the mid-game to a swift conclusion. I took this position knowing what I was stepping into. A house divided, aftermath from the worst atrocity any family member has committed since St. Timothy’s, and an angry court howling for our blood. All considered, things could certainly have gone worse. It is unfortunate that such efforts leave no room for the finer things in this life, or the contemplation and thought that should be my due by this stage in my life.
Checkmate in six.
The Don had been forced to hit the ground running from the moment of his arrival, immediately resecuring the Family’s position in this city, making all the appropriate noises of contrition and reparation while fending off the absurd notion of blood contracts over the family from the ambitious neonate Tremere primogen.
The fool thought I would be bullied and blackmailed into giving him Necromancy. He thought I would bow to a promise that I needn’t be bound if only I would sell out my family. The Don cupped his chin as he considered his next move. He thought I was so easily manipulated. It would almost be insulting if he wasn’t a neonate.
Checkmate in four.
Enzio crowed with triumph as his bishop took the Don’s queen, manifesting a rather ghastly noise of creaking wood and death moans in the Skinlands as he gloated in the Shadowlands.
And yet, he proved to be a far more dangerous adversary than I had given him credit for initially. Again and again he stood in my path, displaying a level of political skill I would not have thought possible for one of his age. That is the folly of age I suppose though, underestimation of one’s opponents. I assumed he was simply a jumped up neonate advanced well beyond his due who was used to dealing with other fools. That is an error I must remember for the future to avoid its repetition.
Without missing a beat, the Don moved his knight into position, appearing to be in retreat, but preparing to close the trap on his eager opponent.
Checkmate in two.
We played a rather vicious game these last few months Emelian and I. A middle game with far too many pieces lost on both sides leaves few moves available in the end. A new fire each week for me to put out, he did an excellent job keeping me moving, unable to weave long-term plans of my own in my usual style. A very aggressive player, but formidable for it.
The white rook moved in to chase the retreating knight, just as the Don had expected. Feigning uncertainty, the Don hesitated, fingering several pieces before moving his bishop into the space vacated by the aggressive rook.
Checkmate in one.
Emelian. For all your aggressive nature I never would have suspected your endgame. Faking your death is a desperate gambit indeed. And yet, quite effective. Our dance of the middle game well established me as your enemy, and the foolish actions of those incompetent mages only fueled those fires. As long as you remain dead, this will be quite difficult. I used up most of my pieces putting out your fires and now am left with little enough defence against this final strategy.
Crowing with triumph, the foolish wraith moved his bishop to claim the knight he had pursued, completely missing the trap he had walked straight into. The knight was bait, to draw his attention away from the closing jaws of the trap. With a dejected sigh, the Don sprung his trap, moving the pawn he had left waiting to the back row and claiming his queen’s resurrection. The rook Enzio had sent chasing after his knight had been the only thing preventing him from this, but Enzio was far too keen on claiming pieces that he missed the power of a single pawn.
“Scacco Matto. You are learning but still you make the same errors. You still play too eagerly and aggressively, losing sight of the long game for some quick seizures.”
With a slight rage on its marble face, the white king suddenly contorted, removed the miniature golden crown from his hand-carved head and, walked across the board and laid it at the feet of the black king. The Don levied an exasperated look at the wraith across the board.
“Very cute Enzio. I accept your surrender with grace.” The Don rang a bell on the end table next to him and a servant came in to clear away the board. “An evening well spent I think. Thank you for the game Enzio. Perhaps next time you will remember to watch your flank.”
And perhaps I will remember the same lesson in future as well. Emelian caught me completely unprepared for this tactic. I am certain I shall recover, but I never expected a suicide move from him. This will be quite inconvenient for the immediate future, and likely I’ll have need to sacrifice more pieces to extinguish this final conflagration.
Lifting his glass to his lips he stopped just before taking a sip. Slowly a smile crossed his lips as he raised the glass in a toast.
Well played Emelian. You have proven that even at my age I can still be surprised. I underestimated you. I expected you to be far too arrogant for a move like this, never imagining you would wish to give up the chance to gloat over any potential victory.
