"The Royal Game of Ur," (or "Guelap Almalaki Ur" as is said to be its original name in Thamunan, and the "Ur Game" as it is known today), has been burgeoning wildly since the fall of the Ssianid empire seven years ago, and especially over the past five years. This phenomenon is most reliably attributed to the many soldiers and mercenaries of Aer Arnad stationed in the Bleakland, and along caravan routes, taking from local forms of entertainment their preferences and smuggling what they could to their own homes. Thus Mairmithon claims to be the ultimate purveyor of the "Royal Game of Ur" to Linothor (although Port Lolorn claims this title also).

Yet, Ur Game boards and pieces of Belerian make are known to have been in circulation for several centuries. The game's appeal, however, was limited largely to Elven immigrants from Sulgate, and this muddied somewhat its reputation as a game, in addition to relying on luck more than skill (a contrast to Chess, invented some few hundred years ago by Human Belerians). Abetting that early unpopularity were vague political or even heretical implications alluded to by the Ur Game, suggesting it was devised by the Elves to represent a figurative "race" between Humans and Drow, their two most significant historic enemies, vying for supremacy over Elves as their own empire fell.

At first blush this is not an unreasonable interpretation of the game. Two players, one controlling white pieces, the "Humans," and the other black pieces, the "Darklings," roll four pyramidal, four-sided dice to progress along a board shaped as a squat H, heavier on one side. The heavy side is composed of twelve squares, three rows of four, while two squares, stacked single file, connect to the leaner part of the H, composed only of six squares. Each player begins the game with their pieces in a small stack before they enter play, called in Beleri the "majmues," but now referred to elsewhere as "the pile." Starting from the heavy side, and with the gaps parallel each to a player, each piece begins on the square closest the gap, and to its owner. White begins a match with the first turn, and rolls, and moves accordingly; then the opponent rolls, and so forth. Each die must land with a white point facing upward to count towards a player's roll. In this way, their pieces move, in squares numbered upon the lightened points each turn, and they may occupy all of their pieces on the board at once, provided they do not overlap.

Each piece progresses first over four squares, aiming away from the gap, only to turn towards the middle row and run headlong down a straight path eight long toward the opposite end of the "H." Achieving this, it turns back toward its owner to navigate the remaining two squares and finally, presuming proper rolls are made, "escape" into the gap, thus achieving for itself success. Each piece also may, when landing upon an opponent's piece, return that piece to the pile. Unusually, they are not "captured" or "killed" as in chess, but merely recycled.

Six pieces must all run this gauntlet, and the first player to achieve this claims for himself victory. Arrayed also on the board are five rosettes, called originally "Musab." The function of these are to, when landed upon, allow a second roll of the dice for the player who takes possession of the square. They also protect the pieces which land on them from being removed by an opposing piece.  In the Human against Drow interpretation, there is no symbolic explanation for the Musab, nor is there for the peculiar path of the pieces. The suggestion has been that its misdirection is a result of confusion due to inferior intellects, and that victory is an abyss of collapse, the fate of all empires, and which the Elves themselves regard still bitterly.

Of course "Humans" go first because they are heedless of danger, and the Drow especially, being more deviously circumspect, allow their opponent to make the first move and expose himself. Their futile struggle along a narrow and crowded path ending in a rush to oblivion requires little explanation. This interpretation suggests origins from around the time of its arising in Beleri, some 400 to 600 years ago.

However, the evidence I've uncovered suggests that the origins of the game date back to the height of the Elven empire, most likely some time around 1000PRM, or nearly 2000 years ago, and rooted deep in Sulgate. This is supported by the fact that the name "Royal Game of Baradur" is itself a clumsy translation of an altogether different name: "Guelap Almalach Baradur" which means "Game of Baradur's Nobleman" or possibly "The Noblemen of Baradur's Game." A number of other mistranslations, when corrected, introduce further clarity into the game's origins.

Majmues, as the pile is called in Beleri, means "group," but is intended to be "majmis," which refers specifically to an "assembly," and can describe either a political assembly or a military one. Suggesting the latter is the fact that the cup used to store both the dice and the pieces is called colloquially "Kabqat," which is itself meaningless and particular to the game, but is also almost certainly a portmanteau of "Kawb" and "qat," from the phrase "Kawb min qat," or the "Cup of Killing." The dice themselves were meant originally to be called "Diae" which is itself a Sulgatian word that means "loss" or "death."

Words were not the only victims of mistranslation. If one travels to Sulgate to see original games of Almalach Baradur being played, a westerner will be alarmed to find that the pieces are not white and black, but silver and blue! This translation is likely due to the fact that, during the collapse, blue dyes were far too expensive and extravagant to use for game pieces, especially among the lesser classes who favored the game, and silver was pressed into coins wherever available. While "silver" and "white" are understandably interchangeable, it has been suggested that blue became black as the game was imported by ship among poor sailors and immigrants outbound from Sulgate who, creating their own boards and pieces, used potato slices for "light" and charcoal for the "dark," so that they entered Beleri as "white and black."

The final telling detail is the fact that the oldest name is itself Thamunan, and not Elven, although it makes use of an Elven name, Baradur. Baradur no longer exists, but according to records was the original name of the city founded by Emperor Derelan upon the ruins of the Sanardir Empire some 2500 years ago, and where he made his capital. Baradur means in Elven "City of Fire." The use of "Nobleman" remains mysterious, but I suspect it is meant to be understood sardonically. However, I will not elaborate upon that suspicion until I have enumerated more details to first reinforce the nature of my suspicion.

From these details I believe I have recreated the original meaning of Guelap Almalach Baradur, as intended by its inventors. The board does not at all represent a march to oblivion, but a struggle to invade Derelan's palace in Baradur, as the sun set over his empire. The silver pieces are meant to represent Tormish paladins, who are known by the symbol of their silver gauntlet, while the blue correspond to Tyrran paladins, known for the symbol of their blue shield, upon which are emblazoned scales and hammer. As is well known, both churches collaborated in the coup by which they overthrew the empire, and together overcame Derelan's defenses and captured him. When attacking they numbered five to a squad, hence the five marks on each piece.

Each paladin squad begins from his assembly and then has to navigate along winding stairs to reach the top of a siege tower, and from that onto a bridge which it then must cross to overcome the battlements of the palace. In order to progress, it must kill the defending forces. Each die, itself shaped like a blade, and when marked indicating a "death," refers to the loyalists along each squad's path whom it must slay to continue. The gap represents not a pit, but a roof, from which the victorious side can display their flag and stake a legitimate claim to the palace itself. This is significant, because it is also recorded that the Tyrrans and Tormish disagreed as to the course of the empire once Derelan was deposed. The Tormish desired to create a government ruled by votes from among the noble class, while the Tyrrans desired for a continuation of hereditary rule, choosing a single member from the nobility with the closest blood relation to Derelan, Angor Arnad. Interestingly, in either case the government would still have arisen from the noble "assembly," Majmis.

Thus, the invasion is also a race, where each paladin squad must compete to arrive first, in sufficient number, to claim the battlements and secure for its side their political agenda. The paladins of such goodly gods of course are not so barbaric as to kill each other; instead, they merely push and jostle, using measures designed to delay, not to eliminate. It is for this that each piece is preserved and remains always in play until the end of the game, no matter how many times it may be captured, or more accurately, "pushed back."

The final piece of this puzzle before us is the marking on the board itself. I suspect the designs, excepting the musab, represent particular elements of the battlements or bridge, or even major peaks in the fighting. The musab, however, I am convinced, represent Ilmatari. Each appears as a flower, but in fact represents eight drops of blood, arrayed symmetrically as rays in a circle. Boards found in Linothor alternate each drop between blue and red, but of those found in Sulgate each drop is red only. The punishment for those perceived to array against Derelan was 80 strikes by the lash, and the Ilmatari were often recipients of this punishment when they would give succor to the emperor's many enemies; thus, each drop represents 10 lashes from the scourge. Ilmatar's church also featured prominently in the invasion, and although playing no part in the political struggle, certainly supported the paladins of their fellow churches with healing and empowerment in the midst of battle. I believe this is why the word "musab" is used for the static spaces that provide additional strength to the piece which passes by and protecting it from being removed, regardless of its church. Finally, although Musab is also the name of a flower, in Sulgatian "musab" means "sufferer—" a clear allusion to Ilmatari.

By now I hope my case has been presented clearly, but an element of secrecy emerges with all of these varied symbols and meanings. For what purpose was the game constructed in its fashion, and by whom? Humans, of course, invented it, as revealed by the language of its original name. As for their intent, I believe that two keys point to a conclusion. The first is the "assembly," a clever double-meaning for the pile of pieces and the alleged heroes of this fight. The appraisal offered is that, no matter the ideals of the participants, they stooped so low as to undermine each other, and ultimately for all of their valor served to elevate the noble class in one measure or another; truly they are "six of one and half a dozen of the other," as the Sulgatian saying goes. To the Human slaves and servants it made little difference whether Derelan or an emperor or a republican assembly controlled their fates, for in their eyes they would always remain lowly. Thus, the fight had little bearing on them, and the purpose in its recollection was darkly humorous. The humor was found in each side's struggle, fighting for the same masters, either the Noblemen or the Nobleman (which here refer to the nobles among the race of Elves), depending upon whether it result in a republic or an empire. Thus, being so inconsequential, what they played at was little more than a "game."

Given the heavily encoded meanings utilized I can say with confidence the Elven empire was still at its height when the game was first designed, and symbols were used to obfuscate its true purpose: a grim reminder, darkly humorous in its critical view of the rulership and its proponents, that no matter who fought and for what ends, life would remain as it always had: miserable but for a few brief moments of merriment. It was in these moments that Guelap Almalach Baradur was played, where Humans, or today Elves,  could control the fate of the Empire, even if the result be utterly inconsequential.