The Crafting of Chess

by Kit Falbo

  A young woman in pigtails mans the counter taking orders. “How may I help you?” she asks with a smile.

  “We have some business with Mr. King,” Jasper informs her. She rings a bell.

  A baker comes to the front. “Special order for some special guests,” she tells him, and he runs into the back room.

  Out come two deadly looking guards, hands resting on the hilts of their swords. They motion for us to follow and we go around the counter into the backroom and then up some wide stairs. They open the door at the top for us. It’s less a room and more a flat that takes up the whole top floor of the bakery. The style of everything is that of the fantasy world. It is expertly set up allowing each portion, from a freestanding library to a dining table have its own space. If I had to guess, I’d say someone outside the game had spent time designing this room. In my outfit, I’m sure my presence alone ruins the ambiance of the design.

  “Welcome guests!” I turn to see a man greeting us with open arms. He’s tall, muscular, with a face and hair like Santa.

  I give him a quarter bow. “Mr. King.”

  “Welcome the ever-handy Jasper, and Chess the famous creator, artificer, and chess master. Call me Alerin.”

  I shoot Jasper a look. He leans in a little and whispers, ”I didn’t tell him anything.”

  Alerin steps up and gives us both hugs, “I feel we’ve been friends forever, considering I already know everything about you.” His words seem happy and heartfelt, but obviously, there is a warning there. “Sit. I’ll have some refreshments brought up.”.

  Alerin sits in the best chair, biggest, softest covered in a light gray fur. Our chairs are sturdy and comfortable, but clearly not on equal footing. I try to smile, using my charisma to as much as an advantage as I can. “You must be wondering why I wanted to have this meeting?” I try to ask pleasantly.

  “Not really. You’re interested in making a play for a seat in Lusania’s elected city council. The information agent your friend acquired the information from was one of mine. I care deeply about this country and find it important to know about all the major players.”

  I shift uncomfortably. “I’m not sure you can consider me a major player.”

  “Or me!” pipes in Jasper with a little nervousness in his voice.

  Alerin lets out a big laugh. He follows with a warm smile. “How quaint that you don’t see it. Jasper, you are well respected by much of the city through your good deeds and willingness to help with any problem. As a companion, some of that favor will also be there for your Touched. Not that either of you has advertised that it is Chess.” He gives me a wink from under his frosty eyebrow. “And you, Chess, have stimulated the economy though your work with the sellers of crafting materials. Clothing that Touched would normally ignore in the place of weapons or armor are suddenly desired. Even Laslow has had an uptick in business. The enchanter’s guild is furious because you are showing what they could be if they were not the lazy, spoiled brats they are. That is also the least of how you’ve changed our land.”

  At this point, the trays of food come in. They smell like exactly what I’ve been missing at home. I take a bite only to have it go puff in my mouth, leaving the flavor but none of the substance. Alerin notices my chagrin.” Something not acceptable?”

  “Tastes wonderful. Just reminds me of outside issues I’m currently having. Since you know what we want, you’ve yet to tell us if you are interested in allowing Jasper a chance at your seat. I can pay handsomely if you need.”

  Alerin leans in. “Chess, does it look like I’m lacking for wealth? I don’t care about wealth, as useful as it is. I care about this kingdom and will do what is best for Lusania. Yes, I have flirted many times with retirement, but every time my cohorts have convinced me what is best is for me to stay where I am at, working for the greater good. Now, both of you seem like good people. For a Touched, the hard work I hear you dedicate yourself to is astounding. Many Touched seem to lack respect for our nation,” he says with a hit of disdain. “Because your companion is beholden to you. That is why I had to meet you in person. One of the best ways to know someone’s metal is to look them in the eye.”

  I smile, hoping to use every bit of my charisma. “And what do you think of me?”

  Alerin King stops being the happy, jovial, and warm man that greeted us. His eyes lose their twinkle, and his voice comes out cold. “I think you fail to understand the trouble you have caused and will have to correct it before I consider what you want.”

  I just sit there, my mind pulling a blank. All I do is make stuff every day, then sell it off at the auction house. As fun and interactive as painting houses. “Trouble?”

  This brought back King’s chuckle, this time with less mirth. “You really don’t see it? All you Touched are trouble. That is why we send you to the front to fight the Man of Masks. You act like you own everything and get strong because you don’t fear death, often embracing it in a way we can’t. I feel it was a mistake to have your kind come here, and of course, now we can’t stop it, so we manage it. You, specifically, make powerful weapons and items that other Touched can acquire, making them feel like they can challenge even the mightiest and most respected of us. If we could purchase them from the holy exchange, I might have made a move there to create balance, but it is forbidden.” NPC can’t buy from the auction house. Players would complain if one suddenly outbid them.

  “What can I do to help and convince you that I will work towards what is best?”

  Alerin, looking like he’s thinking, finishes his small pie and wipes crumbs from his mouth. “If I wanted the impossible I would ask you to mend the rift between the smiths and enchanters. I’m not one to offer impossible tasks. What I want you to do is go to the heads of the six marshal orders, talk to them, get a feel for them and then make each of them the most appropriate and most powerful weapons you can. My name can get you through the door. You will have to do the work of making sure you can complete my task. You do this, and I will consider supporting your cause.”

  A quest notification pops up. I guess this is what players do in Fair Quest.

  For the good of the kingdom. Alerin King has tasked you with creating six Great Weapons for the heads of the six martial orders of Lusania. First, you must judge and be judged by each of the order heads to create their weapons. Success: Alerin’s support in your endeavors. Failure or refusal: Alerin will look upon you less kindly.

  I don’t know how influential a powerful NPC’s disapproval can be, but Alerin doesn’t look like a man to piss off. “I will gladly do my best.”

  The counselor nods, “Be sure to take your companion Jasper with you, these are not the type of people you should meet alone.” Jasper looks like he wants to object but clearly knows better. “I recommend you go to the Order of Duelists first, as their leader has been having some headaches in their dealings with the Touched.”

  He waves us off, and the guards start to escort us out. “Do I really have to come with you?” Jasper blurts out as we start down the stairs.

  The whiny tone leaves much to be desired and reminds me too much of Grandpa and his separation pains, “Yes,” I say with force. “Mr. King suggested it, and I’m sure his suggestions should not be taken lightly. You should see what other Touched have their companions do. I’ve been positively lenient.”

  He looks a little guilty. I think he knows what other companions have to put up with. While we’re exiting the bakery, I start to think of the stuff I’m putting up with at home. Then there is how much time this will take away from my job. He follows me as I walk, after a short while he taps me on the shoulder nervously. “Uh, Chess.”

  “Yes?”

  “The Duelists headquarters are that way.” He points the opposite way I am going. Oops. I was lost my thoughts on how the quest is going to impact my income.

  “Thanks.” We turn around, and this time I follow him and ask for a quick rundown on what he knows about the Order of Duelists.

  Jasper is a litt
le flabbergasted I don’t know. The Duelists act as one of the arms of the law, often serving in leadership positions in city and town watches. They are thief catchers and keep the peace in the courts. If you decide to do trial by combat, they represent the state. This isn’t a club of sword fighters. It is a function of the government.

  Because of this, the compound for the Order of Duelists is across from House of Justice, the seat of high law for the kingdom. The House of Justice building is glorious, with gold trim and statues. The duelist compound is a rather plain fenced off area with several tall buildings and a large training yard. One guard waits at the gate with a bored look on his face. We approach the gate, and the guard speaks up. “State your business.”

  “We are here to see the head of the Duelists.”

  The guardsman starts laughing, “Wait, wait. Let me guess, you’ve found the writ of justice and want to return it to its rightful place.”

  I try a smile, “I’m serious.”

  The guardsman is too busy wiping tears from his eyes. “No, it’s that you’ve come to challenge her to be the new head of the Order. Souz sent you, didn’t he?”

  “Alerin King sent us here on a mission to help.”

  The guard lets out a loud, slow breath. “That ledger pusher. Well, if you’re serious, I’m going to get major Innez to handle this. Wait here.”

  After he leaves, I look at Jasper in frustration. He just shrugs. “This is a lot of what you missed out on by having me go around looking for good deeds without you.”

  Major Innez is a short, balding man. What little hair he has is flecked with gray. His leathers, while trim and clean, had obviously fit better five pounds ago and now stretch at the seams. “So, these are the troublemakers?”

  “We are not troublemakers. We are here to help, on a mission from Alerin King,” I say with a smile.

  He lets out a snort. My charisma must not be working today. “The only swords that man knows are ones written in ledger books. You two are probably none better.”

  Hopefully, my achievement will mean something here. “I’ve familiarized myself with blades through shaping them.”

  He looks at Jasper. “I’m more comfortable with a book than a sword any day,” my companion admits.

  “Allynance won’t see anyone who lacks the discipline of the sword. If you want to see her, you have to prove to me that you have what it takes.”

  The quest notification pops up, and I wave it away not even wanting to read it. “Fine, we’ll do your test.”

  He marches us to the training grounds. Fighters are striking dummies and sparring. We stop as we get to an area by the fence that is mostly clear. “First, you’ll need to take off those hideous clothes. They are not appropriate for training in.”

  “Fine but I didn’t bring any spare clothes.”

  “Shorts will do.” I start to strip, Jasper snickers. “Time for you to show some solidarity companion! You too!” Innez barks, suddenly becoming more and more a drill sergeant. I nod to Jasper who groans but follows suit. “Now you’ll need swords.”

  I go to my bag and pull out one of my recent creations. I’d developed the habit of always having at least one on me. The entire blade is blood red. I’d gone with red and gold for crafting it, and the red had bled into the already sunset burnished blade. “Sorry.I didn’t bring a spare Jasper.”

  “I said a sword, not something you stole from your grandma’s jewelry box.”

  I give Innez a glare and bare my teeth into a snarl. “I made this. You provide something better, and I will train with that.” That breaks him out of his snippy persona, and he walks over to give the blade a good look.

  “Fine. I’ll fetch something your friend can work with.” He fetches Jasper a practice blade. “I want both of you to copy my movements for as long as possible.”

  He starts to move slowly at first. I try to follow. It’s not exactly easy. A blue outline appears, like what I’ve seen when smithing. After weeks of following that, my body and mind start to adjust to this exercise. I get +1xp, a red type for every second I’m matching the forms. Ten minutes pass, and we don’t stop, twenty minutes, in I’m starting to sweat. It starts to dawn on me, I’m in my underwear doing a motion dancing game with no music and a sword. I hate dance games. At least I have the coolest sword.

  Almost two hours in, my lungs and muscles are burning. I get an achievement notification, Beginner Sword Master profession achieved +1 dex, +1 con. +2 attack when using swords.

  Great. Useless stats and abilities. Still, we keep going. Another hour passes. I’m sluggish and match only about half of the movements. In a moment of failure, my muscles fail to activate, and I go to my knees. Jasper is still going, though he looks winded too. My stopping seems to be an excuse to stop on his own. Of course, he has the advantage of not having a real body.

  While doing the exercises, I had leveled up to eight. I toss both my level level stat gains into intelligence. I’d already gotten a charisma boost when I had finally gotten five thousand experience in artificing, though since I had the profession, I got no new skills. I’ve been needing more mana.

  Innez comes forward. He is breathing a little heavy himself. “You Touched are usually pansies. Twenty or thirty minutes, then you give up.”

  “I swing a hammer on an anvil all day,” I say, panting on the ground, still unable to stand. “This is similar,” I say between breaths.

  He grunts in approval, “Well you’re not one of those slackers.”

  I get the Quest Complete notification. I’d passed whatever this test was. “Does this mean I can see the head of the Duelists?” I pause trying to remember her name. “Allynance?”

  “She’s booked up. I’ll pencil you in for day after tomorrow.”

  Inwardly I groan. Five more after this and who knows what side quests they will want. “See you then, Major Secretary.”

  “It’s an honorable position,” he stammers out.

  “I’m sure it is.” Tired, I try to log out while still laying on the floor, but apparently, they wouldn’t let you on the compound grounds. “Come on Jasper.” We slowly get up and walk away.

  “I hope you don’t have any more chores like that for me today. I don’t think I can take it.”

  I give him a tired look, “I think I’ll take the rest of the day off. Tomorrow too. If you can, will you look into all of the marshal orders and their heads?”

  “Sure.”

  We pass through the exit. I log out and sit down.

  Chapter Twelve – Chess

  I sit there, tired. I’m still not sure what caused me to keep going. Eventually, the urge to go to the bathroom motivates me, and I get up rather than have something embarrassing happen. At least lunch will be good. I’d convinced Grandpa a bagged lunch wouldn’t work. The burned grits from this morning are still needling their way through me. After a long, uncomfortable time in the bathroom, I make it back.

  Billy’s BBQ is waiting for me. I open the box. “Where’s my pickle!” I blurt out. The food is still good, but it’s not the same. I know I should log in and work a couple more hours, make some money. The idea of following any more of those faint blue outlines makes me feel nauseous. I check out early.

  Home isn’t much of an option, not to say Grandpa is making it unbearable. He understands that I want to work without trouble coming to our door. He just isn’t taking the transition well.

  Over at Gamer’s Gate, Sam and Lucy are still convinced I should give them a discount because we are friends, when the only thing we have in common is that we both go to the same game shop. Even showing them results of past auctions doesn’t convince them I’m offering a reasonable price. They let it slip, or someone overheard, which led to Mel putting up a sign saying not to pester Chess. Too many took it as a suggestion and not a requirement. It’s worse when non-regulars hear and come over. If I talk to Mel now, it’s on the phone.

  So, I go to the park. The ride is long enough I can take a small nap, and the driver is kind enoug
h to wake me when we get there. Snow had settled in, and it crunches under my shoes. Many of the regulars are still here, chess sets in front of them. I make note of who I might need to bring a coat to after a stop at a thrift store.

  “Hey if it isn’t Boy J,” Samael yells from his spot in the park.

  Hate that nickname. “Hey Sam, you play any good games?”

  “In this weather, I’ll be lucky to see anyone outside the regulars. They keep on asking where you went to. Ms. Daugherty is besides herself with worry.”

  “I told you guys to tell everyone I’m fine, still working on a side project.”

  Samael picks up a king and starts twirling it in his fingers. “It’s not the same if you don’t get word from the horse’s mouth.”

  I eye the board. I haven’t played since my big win. In the game, the gaming house doesn’t let me play there anymore. The one time I tried to go with my last few minutes, I found myself barred. “Five dollars for a game?” I ask, feeling the itch.

  “I’m not letting you take my money. I still need to buy lunch.”

  “I’m rusty. How about I just give you five dollars, and we play.”

  “You know I don’t do charity,” he says, eyeing the bill I’d pulled out.

  I put it on the table and slide it to him. “I’m paying you for a challenge that I’ve missed.”

  He pockets it, and I take a seat. He pulls out his clock. “You know I only play speed.” I know for a fact that the side I got has been rigged to run faster. It did it’s five minutes in four minutes, while his side ran fine.

  He set up white for himself, not even asking. I set up my side of the board. “Ok, your move.” For the next seven minutes, it’s the click clack of the clock and the chess pieces on the board. Samael makes a double move, I raise my eyebrow at that but continue. “Mate.”

  He offers me a fist bump, and I oblige. “Good game. You still have it. Some here thought you might be prepping for some big cash tournament.”

  I shake my head, “Nothing like that.”

  “You going to be back soon?”