It is only you, he and the board set before you. Naught else exists. Mind versus mind. A duel more noble than the clashing of blades and more brutal than commanding of armies. This is the royal game.
Observe his moves. Consider his intent. Focus on what he does, and on what he does not. If you know where to look he will show you much, but you must not be blind to that which remains hidden from your sight. The bluff, the feint, the small sacrifice that yields him greater opportunity later in the game: all of this you must see. Watch out for the traps he lays and beware the traps that you lay for yourself.
You should have selected your opponent more wisely young Dawi. Woe betide the player who has finally met his match. Better to fall upon your own knife than to suffer the shame of knowing that he is your better and you dared to assume otherwise.
Forget all notions of kinship and clan. You have entered into this contract and have left such bonds behind. Your brother is your enemy and will not hesitate to lure you in and cut you down when you when you least expect it. This has always been our way.
Even now I see the sweat drip from your brow. I see the twitch in your eyes and shaking of your hands. You see it don’t you? This is the result of your hubris. This is the recompense for your audacity. This is the last move of the game.
Taur’ruk takes Castellan.
I take my leave. But my dagger shall remain behind young Dawi.
Dwell upon what I have said before you meet with the Father of Darkness. Tell him who sent you.
Thus spoke Xarathustra.