He would use the Viennese opening, a C-line pawn-plopp could follow, soon castling on the queen side – and he would win! Sajjbajr of the Levant was a master on the old, noble tiles. His unorthodox style, hurried pace and unforgiving pressure on weak squares made him the greatest Grandemaster in Europa, the Levant and beyond.
In his youth Sajjbajr left his home among the Levantian olive & almond groves to train and travail in the service of a European minor nobleman. The knight had been cast into shame on the very edge of the continent after losing a great tournament, but he still schooled young men in the game that he loved – the game that had cursed him and exiled him in barren lands.
Sajjbajr was a diligent student and his skills would grow. Soon he surpassed the nobleman and would, with ease, crush any opponent in the court. He left the service to seek greater opposition and greater knowledge (of the game, of the world, of himself). He ventured deeper into Evropa (Majahi-na-Majahi).
He would go to France and Bohemia, Britain and the Germanic lands. His path even led him to the great city of the Czars. He played in the courts of mighty men, he played the greatest minds in schools and universities and even common, but worthy, men in festivals of wit and fysicales. His skills and reputation grew still. Were there any opponent that could beat to our Grandemaster?
Oh, there was one! With great precision and skill he would strike his hammer and move his pieces. A blacksmith by trade and a person of much mysterie. Could this humble, unknown soul take on the great Sajjbajr, the Levantian Grandemaster?
They met in Vienna, and Sajjbajr opened Viennese, but the hammer struck and Sajjbajr lost. Once, twice … Of the twelve games played, Sajjbajr lost all! A tear fell from his eye: Sajjbajr cried, he cried so very sorely.
Sajjbajr, no longer a Grandemaster, saw that a life dedicated to any game, ever so noble, was futile. He left Vienna in shame, and headed home to follow a more pious path. The Hajj was approaching, and Sajjbajr decided to visit the holiest of cities and seek solace in the religion of submission.
On the road to Mecca he met a man clad in red – a man of the Church, it seemed? This red wanderer had crossed the continent to confront Sajjbajr, to challenge him. They stood opposed to each other, with hostile stares, but Sajjbajr felt calm and not at all threatened.
Then, suddenly, the bishop moved, sideways, and behind him a great female figure was revealed! “Fuj!” she yelled, and Sajjbajr fell to the ground, never to rise.