Well, that was a fun way to spend my Saturday. I haven't had a fanfic monopolize my time this much since Friendship Is Optimal.
"This is ridiculous," Milo muttered to Hermione, his chess partner. "Skill Ranks in Profession (Chessmaster) have no bearing on one's ability to stomp squishy wizards."
"See, the thing is," Hermione said, "I know what all of those words mean in and of themselves, but the way you string them together... it's like someone handed a book of Mad Libs to a Confunded Troll."
"I'm a Confunded Troll, am I?" Milo asked with a slight edge in his voice. "Well you're blind to the story unfolding before your very eyes."
"Blind?" Hermione asked, a dangerous glint entering her eyes. "No, you're just convinced this is some storybook fairytale land where everything happens for a reason. And not a good reason, mind, but a stupid, trite, clichéd reason."
"Not a story," Milo said, placing his pieces on the board, "an adventure. Completely different school of magic."
"Real life does not have adventures!" Hermione said, her voice growing louder. "It has rules, responsible adults, homework, and grades!"
"I think we've more or less exhausted the possibilities of this conversation," Milo said coolly. "Roll for Initiative, bookworm."
Hermione, playing white, naturally won Initiative. She sent one of her Commoners forwards, breaking their naturally defensive spear-wall and leaving her Aristocrats vulnerable to a cavalry charge from Milo's flanking Knights.
"My left and right Clerics cast Wall of Stone and Flame Strike, respectively," Milo declared, "while the Commoners garrison these towers and ready an action to provide covering fire should any white soldiers enter range of their crossbows. The Knights run up to this position," he placed the two horses near Hermione's Clerics to Attack of Opportunity them should they try to cast anything, "and my Aristocrats take a full defence action."
"Er," Hermione said. "You can only move one piece on your turn."
"Oh, we're tracking individual Initiatives? Okay. In that case, Flame Strike. Let's see some Reflex Saves, now, shall we?"
"Why me?" Hermione asked the air dramatically. "Why? What did I ever do to deserve this? You know what? Here. Just take my tag, I forfeit. It's just not worth it. I'll go play with Neville in the corner." Hermione stalked off as Milo clipped Hermione's tag to his robes under his own.
"One down," he smirked. "Four hundred to go."
"Blimey," said one of Milo's Clerics. "I don't think you quite understand how this works, do you?"
"Holy Crap! You can talk?"