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 Post Posted: Tue Apr 17, 2007 1:22 pm 
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Joined: Thu Feb 02, 2006 8:42 pm
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The battle had raged on for more than a few opening moves. The kings plotted and drew in the dirt under their feet.

Pawns eagerly huddled near their great red and white kings.

Arrows and thrown weapons crossed the checkered battlefield, physical insults traded throughout the cold spring's day.

Sutra settled behind the enemy lines and waited. The mask concealed any clouds of condensed breath securely. He had managed to join the rank and file of the red army undiscovered.

He had received word that the red army had suffered many casualties and need the kingdom's assistance. The white army had grown stronger since Alice's victory in the woods that tangle.

The sides had been evenly matched. This day would decide who marched north to the only kingdom duchy, Finder's Keep; the next theater of carnage.

Sutra had been given orders, as if a simple member of the red infantry.

Seek out and shatter the White King. It was plain and simple. The giant crowned head was sluggish yet remained a force to be reckoned with. The reflecting shield hung proudly on his left arm. An unknown amount of lives and protects guarded the king's hide and soul.

Sutra would soon find out how many poisoned blows would be required to mortally wound the leader.

The battle ravaged much of the land and it's inhabitants. Many red and black squares of land lay in burning cinder.

He had finished the last trap when the white army advanced. Both kings had fallen, almost one for one. This was the deciding factor.

The tactic was clear, rush the white lines and at the last possible moment, when all seemed hopelessly lost; divert the flankers to the king. A suicide mission. One Sutra eagerly accepted.

Unaware, the white king made his was towards the obviously weak left flank of the red forces, mauling and cutting down all those who opposed his rule.

The traps were triggered, the king confused, and the onslaught of red blades found their mark.

The White King was dead.
Long Live the Red King.

What remained of the white army escaped with life intact, though their bones and spirit had suffered a cruel defeat that day.

Sutra stood, face hidden, leaning over the breathless king. Removing his mask, he flung it at the corpse. The black fabric settled on the king's chest.

He wanted her to know who did this.

The Red King nodded as he realized the lone assassin's identity. The red army cheered their victory that day.

Soon, the armies would march north and meet with the other half of the court of hearts.

There, they would have much needed help.

Soon, Sutra would meet Alice in the flesh.

And it would be an encounter neither of them would soon forget.

S
[con't]

_________________
The general who advances without seeking fame and retreats without fearing disgrace, whose only thought is to protect his country and do service for his sovereign, is the jewel of his kingdom. -Sun Wu


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