Tuvan call

They met before Anesh.
And they played at many games.
At His temple, in His honor.

Bear fight tiger!
Bagh-Bhaluk juj!

Elephant fight crocodile!
Haati-Ghorial juj!

Egg fight egg!
Koni-Koni Juj!


But from over the mountains they could hear a song on the wings of winds. And they pondered. Was this violence right? Would He be content with merely song and dance?

The shaman calls, Tuva calls

They set afoot towards the winds of the Northern steppe.


Sajjbajr and the Hajj

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.

Olde knight, where will you ride? To Yerusalem, Mecca or the very edge of the world (like Livare)?

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.

Peddie, the Rhubarb Buffoon

Yet all I wanted was Rhubarb, Rhu- ub – ba – arb!

– Peddie, jester at the Nerich court


Peddie is known as a figure of utter tragedie. His fall from academic roots into utter despair works as a warning to all those who think they are beyond the reach of un-logik. 

Peddie was born into a stable family, his mother and father both of academic professions. He was raised well and found love in the spring of his life. But the flames of his fiery relationship soon dwindled, and He was left all alone.

In adulthood he found some comfort and satisfaction in spirit, yet his lost love kept tormenting him. Why did she reject him then? Why did she reject him now?

His sorrow kept him from keeping employment. He sold his possessions, and took to acting and jesting to finance his ever increasing needs for the only comfort to be found, those only-soothing spirits from far Moravia.

In the end he became neallocate, an unallocated, a jester at the Nerichina Court, thus completing his tragic journey to madness.

Yet all I wanted was Rhubarb, Rhu- ub – ba – arb!

– Peddie, neallocate, tragedie