VOLUME ONE What you have read in history books about the former High King Torygg is bereft detail of the circumstances, events, and decisions that made this man the powerful and wild leader he was. While his death is a well known tale, his personal life and upbringing is dimly lit. I, Sergius Monsu, Court Historian for the House of Torygg, son of Istlod, now endeavor to hold a light to these chapters of Torygg’s tale in hopes of illuminating his life for you the reader. I present you with Volume One of The History and Tales of High King Torygg. Book I Torygg of Haafingar was born into means, of the House of Istlod, longtime High King. He was raised in the hopes that, and with the assumption that, he would succeed his father’s throne. Naturally he was given all the trappings and benefits befitting a prince. He was afforded years of personal study with the best and brightest tutors in Tamriel including Sybille Stentor, his father’s court advisor, and a traveling warrior-tutor named Baza Arwinstaad. Baza was one of the most influential people in Torygg’s adolescent life, shaping him into what he later became. This time spent studying may not seem useful for the presumptive High King, but it was instrumental in familiarizing him with his surroundings and the cultures he would be pitted against. He learned of the beauty of the Imperial City in Cyrodiil and its governmental structure. His neighbors’ habits and proclivities were also a subject of great interest and study to him as he would later need to know the potential and power of his future rivals. History was not the only intellectual pursuit practiced by the pair. Chess was a particular favorite of Torygg’s. Baza himself mastered the game by boyhood after countless hours of battle over the board with his father, qualifying him to teach a boy as bright as Torygg. Under the tutelage of Baza, Torygg quickly bested his friends and family and soon was in need of a more challenging opponent. As a result, Baza and Torygg committed to biannual games to measure his progress. At Baza’s behest, audiences were invited to observe these games. The initial contests were anything but- Torygg lost the first four matches as well as his composure. After one game in particular Torygg was so infuriated at his mistakes that led to his defeat- as well as Baza’s relentless attacking style of play- he rose up in fury, catapulting the chessboard across the hall. His rage was irrational and uncontrollable. Even the inanimate chessmen were not immune to his anger as they flew violently into oblivion, all record of his poor play disappearing with them. These early embarrassing losses in public compelled Torygg to redouble his efforts in training. He began researching new manoeuvres and tactics from books by ancient masters. He pored over his old games, dissecting them zealously, scrutinizing his every move- and those of his opponent. In this way he quickly improved from match to match. Consistently the games became more a struggle between student and tutor with Baza’s skills being testing more regularly and thoroughly. Torygg continued to lose despite his increased efforts, even though his and his mentor’s abilities were becoming more analogous. A subtle but noticeable shift in Baza’s playstyle accompanied the growth of his student. As Baza’s opponent outstripped him strategically and tactically he began to utilize psychological methods to obtain the advantage. These methods varied in form and efficacy. Aggressive posturing was initially successful to intimidate the boy but after a few matches and continued improvement by Torygg, as well exacerbating his already serious anger issues post-loss, it was abandoned. Baza eventually developed longer term strategies to gain the upper hand, going so far as to use common phrases and keywords when reprimanding Torygg building anticipatory psychological responses in the boy. During particularly challenging portions of games Baza would use these phrases and keywords during banter to force expectations of punishment or retribution in Torygg’s psyche. Despite these more overt tactics Torygg’s meteoric rise continued- much to Baza’s chagrin and detriment. Baza’s search for leverage reached culmination in a most conniving way. Knowing full well the pressures and responsibilities of High King Istlod and that attending a chess game between his son and the hired help was not a priority, Baza invited him to the next match anyway. Baza expected the High King to decline outright or begrudgingly attend- either option which would add tremendous pressure on the already strained Torygg. To Baza’s amazement Istlod happily accepted the invitation. It would be the High King’s first time attending one of the matches. As news of the match spread, sycophants, cronies and hangers-on jostled to secure not only a seat at the event, but a position near the king. Hundreds of high-born families simultaneously recognized the gravity and rarity of a public appearance by the king and were willing to make sacrifices to witness it. The spectacle would be the king’s first non-political appearance in recent memory, representing a considerable break from his normal schedule that was dominated by politicking and warmaking. Despite the heavy workload and burdens he carried, Istlod could sense the importance of the match and vowed to himself it was an occasion he would not miss. It was a chance for him to rectify years of absenteeism, stressful familial interactions, unreasonable pressures, and the demands his lifestyle made of his son. He made it his priority to support Torygg. Torygg sensed the swell of activity surrounding the upcoming match. Cousins, uncles, and family friends made contact as they announced they, too, would be attending. Nervousness began to erode his growing confidence. Tiny fractures developed in his young psyche. The possibility of failure was real- but the opportunity to conquer more so. Book II Parading into the hall first, and confidently, was Baza. With him came attendants, his second, and a tangible energy which each spectator could feel. He sat down on his purple, velveted seat and awaited his young adversary. As soon as Baza reclined into his chair the audience was hushed by an even more regal entrance- that of young Torygg. While composed, Torygg was anything but confident. He felt the inevitable outcome of this game, like all others that had preceded, would be defeat. The difference between losing in private, and losing in front of royal audience was as similar as the ancient brothers Anu and Padomay. He would rather lose a thousand times in private than suffer a single loss in public. But the day had come. He walked silently to the podium and looked his opponent in the eye. Sitting down, he awaited the entrance of the final, and most important attendee. With pomp and ceremony Istlod and his entourage entered the hall. The gravity of the moment finally hit Torygg like a troll’s fist. He was about to play a losing game in front of the most important audience to which he had borne witness- his father. Baza, ever perceptive, noticed the panic on the young boy’s face. As the king sat down and the participants rose to shake hands and begin the game Baza glances into the boy’s eyes and gave a pusillanimous wink. And Torygg noticed. An eruption of volcanic proportion welled up in his youthful mind. The usually kind and collected boy saw the condescending gesture as a direct challenge to his value as a person, as a son, and as a future king. Rather than exploding outwardly, he focused his energy on the task immediately at hand, and decided this day would be different. He would best his foe once and for all. In public, for all to see- and more importantly, for his father to see. As was customary they drew for color. Baza grabbed two pawns, raised them hidden in his hands and waited anxiously for his young charge to choose. Black. His limbs tingled with the realization he would be playing at a disadvantage as black against an opponent he had never defeated. His steely resolve did not bend however. He steadied his mind and his trembling hand, set up his pieces and prepared for battle. Baza’s natural assumption was that this game would be like all prior ones, with him winning handily and without much of a fight. As a consequence he chose a very aggressive opening, playing the King’s Gambit, an opening young Torygg had never played against. Baza raised his head high, nodded in acknowledgement to the king, and began by ordering his king pawn into the battlefield. Torygg followed suit, his own king pawn matching move for move. As Baza prepared to issue another order he looked his young opponent in the eye without even glancing at his piece and moved it with a wry smile. kings bishop’s pawn was directed to attack Torygg’s king pawn. The move, an unexpected one, met Torygg with some surprise and consternation as he struggled to fathom what had just transpired. He realized quickly and painfully he was walking into an opening he had never seen, an opening he was ill-suited to defend. A flash of doubt went through his mind as he attempted to overcome a flood of fear. No. Not today. Not another loss. Not in front of his father. Torygg took the time to devise what defense he could. Not being able to rely on habit, practice, or memorization of moves, he chose a maneuver instead based on his own intuition and understanding of the game. He decided that the only way to defend against an attack is to attack. He moved his hand and made his move. King’s pawn takes bishop’s pawn. Baza’s visceral response to Torygg’s move was seen by all. His smirked lips pursed when he saw the boy’s counterattack. Baza realized then that this game may not be like the others. If he was capable, through force of will and careful thought, to determine an acceptable line of an opening he had never played against, what more was this boy capable of? Could he turn this game into an actual battle? Could he maintain this level of play throughout? Could he actually win the game? All these doubts ran through Baza’s mind while he made his next fateful move. Baza’s strategy remained unchanged- he was to be the aggressor this game like all the others. He reached for his king’s bishop and placed in the middle of the board. Torygg’s eyes lit up immediately. He realized he had great chances to win already, even as black. He took no time pondering his response. His most powerful piece was ordered to the flank. The queen was on the attack, putting immediate pressure on his adversary. His first attack and first check came only moves into the game. The embarrassment hit Baza like a stampeding mammoth. He was being genuinely challenged for the first time by this boy, and in public no less. Whether or not it was true, he felt every eye in the area trained on him waiting for his next move, a move that had a sudden import. After careful reflection he called his knight to his king’s defense, simultaneously accosting the queen. Baza didn’t let his attack end there. He called to action a subtle tool he had been developing in the boy’s unconscious mind for some time. He began to verbally jostle Torygg, utilizing some phrases and keywords he had hidden away as a secret weapon for a day like this. He began by warning his opponent that he “was going to wish he hadn’t done that,” a turn of words Baza commonly used after Torygg had made a poor move. Torygg immediately felt a shudder at hearing the phrase but looked quickly into Baza’s eyes and realized he was toying with him. He wondered if the phrase was designed specifically to get him to question himself, and his skills. Which, of course, it was. Torygg felt a shudder of terror in response to Baza’s maneuver. Where he only moments ago thought he was aggressor, Baza had taken that crown from him. He had been demoted from sharp attacker to belittled defender in two quick moments- one over the board and one in his mind. He decided to fight what he felt was an underhanded strategy with an equally surprising, but more respectable counter. He was going to do something so aggressive, so daring, that it would either work smashingly or fail completely. The obvious move stared him in the face. If he had any chance to draw this game he needed to his queen to fall back to it’s half of the board, losing tempo but retaining future prospects. He sat mournfully plotting the appropriate retreat. But another idea beckoned him. What if he didn’t retreat as Baza would surely expect? What if he were to remain on the attack prospects be damned, and commandeer Baza’s strategy. He wouldn’t let Baza attack with impunity but would challenge his every aggression in kind. Baza sat with a demeaning smile still, knowing young Torygg had a single wise move- to bring back his queen. He sat waiting, wondering why the boy took so long to make it. The idea that this boy was hatching a plan to destroy him never crossed his overconfident mind. But it happened. Torygg left his queen to fate, instead choosing to make a hyper-aggressive move that would throw Baza off balance. The move wasn’t good. It meant gambling his most powerful piece, but the potential reward was winning the war. As he grabbed his bishop and placed it near Baza’s portion of the board, he knew the game hung in the balance. An audible gasp filled the room as the audience saw what they all assumed was a mistake. Baza initially did as well but this estimation was checked by a quick glance at Torygg’s face. He saw not a look of panic but of confidence on the boy’s face. At this moment he began to think. He sat contemplating every possible good move his opponent had at his disposal. Sacrifices, gambits, defense maneuvers, and even poor moves were considered. After ten minutes of deliberation he made his move- he captured the queen. The audience let out a sigh of disappointment when they saw this transpire. They all waited to witness what they felt was now inevitable- Torygg losing the game. Baza for the first time directly addressed his young opponent by quietly congratulating him on a good game. Without the slightest hesitation Torygg looked Baza in the eye and offered him a draw. Baza laughed and gently declined, thinking Torygg was trying to save face. At Baza’s declination Torygg took his bishop and moved it into the middle of the battlefield. A quick glance over the board saw Baza develop a minor piece. Torygg purposefully and quickly called his knight into action on the flank. Baza, still unaware that anything out of the ordinary was going on, simply developed another knight and waited for the win. With the sternest of faces Torygg reached for his king and castled, bringing an unexpected power piece into the fray. Torygg’s rook now stared at an open file, along with excellent attacking chances. As Torygg’s hand released the rook, Baza noticed what had previously been withheld from his trained eye- Torygg had gambled his queen to open the position and attack Baza’s king side with three minor pieces. He had walked right into a trap. Suddenly his pate began to sweat as he knew that this game would not end as easily as he had only a few minutes ago expected. A flurry of activity followed: two captured knights, three pawns destroyed, a white rook trapped in a corner, and a king dangerously out of position. Baza looked over his board and realized that his defense was futile and saw clearly the series of checks that would lead to his demise. It was only a few moves away and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. Torygg had been taking pleasure watching his nemesis squirm, defending an untenable position. The feeling of schadenfreude was a new one to him and he relished it. For what seemed hours Baza reflected on the genius of what had just befallen him. For the first time he lost legitimately to Torygg. Instead of continuing to suffer Baza played out the remaining moves to let the boy enjoy his well deserved win. Torygg and Baza exchanged largely ceremonial moves until, finally, the board was clear of all but the pieces that would lead to Baza’s loss- a white queen, two black knights, two black bishops, and the two kings. Torygg’s heart raced as he made his final move. A black knight, the same knight that led the charge from the beginning of the game, was placed near the king. The crowd erupted when they realized the game had been decided, and in favor of their chosen son. Torygg respectfully rose to shake the hand of his mentor, friend, and opponent. As he stood, he glanced over at his father and saw something he would only see again on rare occasions in his life. He had the pleasure of seeing his father smile. And with that, the young Torygg reveled in speaking the word he never had a chance to utter to Baza. Checkmate. If people show interest in this, I will release Volume Two. This took me about one week to write :wink:
