"8x8"

                                                 "8x8"
         During the darkest and rainiest night in the history of Chessland, the horse-headed Black Queen's Knight, Quiggley, trudged through the mirk and the mud on his way to where the White Army gathered. All around him, Black Pawns and White Pawns slew and were slain. The Black King's Knight had already been taken by the White Queen, and now Quiggley, who believed he was destined for greatness in battle, sought to kill her consort in kind. Pawns scrambled to ambush him, but he made short work of them.
         To catch his breath, he hid behind a bush. Bishops on either side walloped each other with their iron crosses, coming in from different angles. I counted two Black Bishops and one White Bishop. Where had the White King's Bishop gone? Quiggley scanned the field, then froze as he felt a sharp point at his back.
         "Yield," said the White King's Bishop.
         "Nay," said the Black Queen's Knight, "My Player has planned for this."
         Presently, a Black Pawn thrust his dagger into the Bishop's back. The Bishop doubled over and hit the grass. Quiggley might've thanked the Pawn if he hadn't known it was the work of their Player. The Black Pawn charged the two White Pawns and was stabbed and made level by both of them. The Black Queen's Knight puzzled over this. Didn't their Player want to win?
         Two White Knights closed in on him. He reversed his steps, took the two White Pawns, and threw them into the Knights, with them accidentally impaling themselves with the Knights' swords. When they'd lost their morale, Quiggley attacked from the sides. Was this cowardly? He wondered. For a fleeting second, he questioned his Player's motivations once again. Then he steeled himself, for he saw the White King some squares ahead.
         Rooks! He realized as the pieces united and charged towards him. Quiggley dodged them expertly, vaulting over them. Then he spun in a circle while holding out his sword, breaking their stony flesh and rendering them near-dead, bleeding out.
         Finally, he approached the White King. The monarch only grinned.
         "Checkmate," the Knight declared. The King broke into a laugh.
         "Foolish warrior. You think you have beaten me? My Player is a sore loser...and a liar."
         The Knight wordlessly and involuntarily dropped his sword and watched in mute terror as the King swung his blade in his direction.