Battlechess (closed)

[scribe_m]

The great mage stroked his whiskers and surveyed his land from his tower. Mighty fields of darkness and rolling hills of despair led everywhere the eye could see. Grumblings of orcs, dragons, and the occasional errant demon wandered within view, only to disappear beneath the blackness of the crags.

"What a pain in the arse!" he mumbled. "Orcs smelling up the place. Demons burning everything. Why the hell are Wizard's Towers so high? You can smell everything from here!" He turned to his books and grumbled. "And those damned adventurers! Killing this, killing that, searching for loot, trying to kill me, it's like I can't get a good night's sleep!" He slammed his fist on the table. "Ouch! And my body can't take it anymore! Between making sure everyone doesn't kill each other and making sure my hips work right, I'm not getting anything done!" He sat back in his chair, ignoring the pains of age. He dreamed of his quest to create the philosopher's stone, the alchemist's grail for... whatever the hell it did. "Hmph," he snorted.

He looked upon his chess pieces and mused. "I could just poison myself, but what would that achieve? Half the kingdom wants me dead so they can take my loot, the other half are the bad guys." He gave snort and picked up one of the pieces. He smiled. "I know. A trap. A lovely and wonderful trap. A trap to find someone worthy of taking over my kingdom, and a trap to take the souls of the rest." He glanced at a nearby manual: Uncommon Phylacteries for the Household Lich. "So my flesh can wither away, and my bones continue."

****

Many years passed.

Kicking the bones and dust on the floor, he muttered. "Well, that didn't work well." Many a wise man had heard of his trap, but only stupid adventurers dared face him. "Stupid, stupid, stupid!" He jumped around, cursing his soul-stolen youth. "Idiots all of them! And now their challenging me is taking up all my time!" He kicked a skull out the window. "Maybe I should stop being Lawful Evil and just be Neutral Evil. That way, I can just poison them!" Instead, he was obligated to the chess board device. The mage had long poured his soul into the infernal thing. When played, it would devour the soul of the player who lost the game of chess, and invigorate the spirit and body of the victor. Naturally, the loser's body would turn to dust and his bones would fall onto the floor. This left a huge mess. "Shouldn't have played against the housekeeper first," the mage muttered.

But it was time to face another opponent, for the chessboard dictated it. As the mage turned around, he raised a brow. His ennui had been sated merely looking at his opponent. "Well, hello," he said, unctuously. "Have a seat."

http://bluemoonroleplaying.com/forums/showthread.php?tid=28480

 

[iridium248]

(http://dl.dropbox.com/u/8073552/Valeria.jpg)

A soft chuckle purred from Lady Ileosa's throat, jade eyes narrowing ever-so-slightly, as the lovely sorceress folded her slender arms over her full chest; The slight arch to her back making the luscious orbs of her breasts press up against the cut of her shimmering silk gown. Strung with tiny bells, the regal beauty's trailing sleeves - The same glossy black satin as the rest of her costume- chimed softly, as she crossed her lissome legs with a gentle *scrape* of creamy flesh...

"Of course," she breathed, gazing at her opponent through long, long lashes...Curvy hips swaying gently, as she lowered herself into the proffered seat. The witch's feet - Arched high on heeled slippers - click against the tiled ground, as she arched a slender eyebrow, considering the board before her.

Now, who *hadn't* heard the rumours ~? A no-holds-barred game of *magical* chess...With power for the winner, and the most unsavoury fate for the loser. She'd tracked down these rumours, all the way to the source...And they were, after all, *exactly* what she'd expected. For a sorceress like Ileosa, the chance was a simply *irresistible* one!

In her shimmering midnight gown, the ebony-haired sorceress cut an alluring figure~ Even as she casually stroked slender fingers through her silken tresses, considering her *very* first move. "I wonder..." Ileosa pondered aloud, pursing those full lips; "Would you prefer to go first, my dear opponent~?"

 

[scribe_m]

The mage licked his lips. "No, you go first," he smiled.

Though trapped in a young body -- or perhaps because of his young body -- the mage squinted his eyes as he drunk the lovely beauty of the sorceress-woman in front of him. He cackled, musingly, wondering what her soul would taste like, consumed by the board.

He looked down upon it, and raised a brow as the chess pieces transformed. On her side, an aura of femininity embraced her pieces. The pawns held swords, but were female swordsmen of the loveliest kind. The knights grew wings, becoming Valkyries on pegasi steeds. The bishops grew curved, as their vestments became tight and slitted, showing the more creamy of legs. The rook crumbled, the castles revealing beautiful angels with gilded wings. The king became the Goddess of Fortune. And the queen, the mighty queen, became an evil reflection of the lovely opponent sitting across him.

The mage paused. What should he have made of the queen? What were the rules now? Capture the king, only to find out the queen was the piece to be taken? But he loved the challenge, and perhaps she would provide one indeed.

Another anomaly. His own pieces. He found it quite interesting that they, too, morphed into another shape. No longer were they the abstract pieces, just resembling the chessmen they represented. This time, things were different. The front line of pawns were burly, crude, orc with great muscles. The rook was a stony golem of great height. The knight was a dark armored man riding a wyvern. The bishop became a hideous demon.

As the sun retired for the evening, the two most power rulers of the kingdoms sat against each other, pondering and maneuvering their pieces on the board. Now when a piece fought another piece, the capturer would gore and destroy the captured piece in hideous splendor. Yet, he felt, something else differently would happen against this opponent.

Eternal minutes ticked by as the two studied the chessboard. Eventually, pieces moved, with her white maidens stepping a dance against his creatures of black. The first piece was taken.

"Pawn takes pawn," he smiled. He smiled less out of triumph than habit. And curiosity. He wondered what would happen next.

 

[iridium248]

http://gelbooru.com/index.php?page=post&s=view&id=1326315

Lady Ileosa's 'pawn' was a platinum-blonde swordswoman, her lissome form sheathed in silver platemail - Which promptly crumpled like tinfoil, as her exquisitely crafted sword snapped beneath the orc's swing~! "Oh~!" the taut *gasp* parted her lips, as she stumbled back, raising her shield - Before the leering creature's weapon pounded a massive dent in *that*, too~! Disarmed, her heeled boot slipped...And the Pawn went down on her nicely-rounded behind, the hem of her pleated skirt fluttering in the breeze...

"Owww~" she murmured, blue eyes hazy - Her ruined shield clanking as it bounced off the chessboard~! Except that wasn't *quite* the end of it...Her heels scraped against the tiles as she tried to back away from the advancing orc~ A little flush in her cheeks, those perfectly proportioned breasts rising and falling, in growing agitation...

 

[scribe_m]

The orc grinned, his lips curling around his skull. Her fancy rainments were nothing to his crude cudgel, pounding again, and again, against her pristine skin. And now that she was on the floor, he looked down at her, panting, his blood rising and his fury unsated. But unlike the men he faced down before, this pawn wanted more than to just taste the flesh of his victims. He crouched down, tearing at the prone woman's armor, snapping off the plates of mail like scales of a fish. He paused when he revealed her prodigious breasts, heaving up and down with her fearful breaths. He grinned anew, as he tore away his loincloth revealing his own horrid member. It was thick and green, and had a lust of its own. He stradded her fine body, his orcish thing rising to full fury, and rubbed it between her breasts. He grasped her head, forcing it against his tool. His words of triumph were incomprehensible to the young woman, but his message was clear.

"How interesting," muttered the mage to himself, a grin up on his own face anew.