Blackout: Book One (A Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Thriller)

by Adam Drake

From the map I could tell there had been nothing of note in the remainder of the forest which partially encircled the base.

  “Okay, go here, please.” I tapped the forest line directly ahead of me, on the east side. “Stay hidden and watch for approaching enemies from the north.”

  This river appeared to be the middle choke point between the two halves of the map. Past the river, the forest resumed. Identical looking grassy plains curved northeast and northwest. The entire map must form a figure eight, with the river and platform at its middle.

  When Amara or any of her units moved south, they'd have to cross here. Having the scout placed nearby would give me fair warning of the next attack.

  The scout nodded once and closed the chat window. I shook my head. Having NPCs activate, and even terminate visual chats was new for me, and I can't say I was getting use to it.

  As I got closer to the altar, its details became more clear. It was nearly identical to the one at my base, entangled skeletons with the top one extending an arm, waiting to grasp a banner.

  The wide platform had no defenses. Bringing the banner here, let alone keeping it safe for five minutes, seemed a near impossible task. How could you defend it?

  Footmen Unit training complete.

  I smiled. That would do the trick.

  With just enough gold, I started another unit to training. Then, selecting the new unit, I ordered them to move north to my position and guard the altar. I'd wait here until they arrived, then...

  Movement to the northwest caught my eye.

  A group of trolls were approaching on foot. But these were not grunts. Workers.

  As they got closer I could see they were wearing blue shirts under overalls. But their leggings only went down a little past their knees, giving them a comical look. Each held a hammer or axe.

  A quick look beyond them, and to the northeast approach showed they were alone.

  I laughed, and summoned my bow, waiting until they got within range.

  “Easy pickings,” I said with a smirk.

  “I'll say!” came a shout from behind me.

  I whirled to see Amara in mid-leap from atop the altar, descending upon me.

  With no time to react I could only bring up my bow in a feeble attempt to block her sword.

  But she crashed into me, driving her weapon straight through my chest. The force of the sudden attack knocked me off of Smoke, and I fell to the ground.

  Flat on my back, my avatar had become paralyzed. I knew what this meant.

  Amara bent over me, leering. “Payback's a FILTERED, ain't it, honey?” She wrenched the sword from my chest then turned her attention to poor Smoke.

  As my screen darkened, I cursed myself for being so stupid. Then a message appeared before my vision.

  You Have Been Slain in Battle!

  Then my screen went black.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Amara Frostwalker has killed Vivan Valesh. +1,000 Battle Points for Amara Frostwalker.

  For several moments after my avatar's death, I yelled a stream of profanities with Amara's name attached to them, until I was blue in the face.

  She'd hidden near the altar, probably under the platform itself, in Shadow Form. She knew that the approaching troll workers would probably distract me enough for her to sneak attack.

  That's the second time she'd caught me off guard.

  A thirty second timer counted down against the blackness of my view-screen. It was all I could do but glower at it.

  A new system message appeared:

  Your Mount has been killed.

  More profanities, more glowering.

  The thirty seconds felt like hours as adrenaline pulsed through my system. There was no doubt now that Amara had played a Battle Field session before. Possibly several.

  And I was the Battle Field noob she got to toy with.

  The counter reached zero and my screen brightened.

  Vivian Valesh has been reborn to the world. Let the Battle continue!

  My avatar was no longer at the middle, but was looking up at a low ceiling. I sat up to find I was on a raised stone slab in a cramped room. Fire sconces on the floor were the only source of light. Cob webs hung from the beams above and murals of battles draped across the stone walls.

  A crypt.

  An ascending stairway could be seen through the crypt's only door.

  I stood and looked my avatar's body over. There was no sword wound in my chest and my cloak and cloth armor were undamaged. The health indicator on my screen showed my hit points at 100%. Nothing was missing from my inventory either (not that I could access it anyway).

  Other than finding myself transported from the platform, there appeared to be no obvious death penalty.

  Still, this beats a newbie zone, hands down.

  I took the narrow stairs up to emerge from a floor into a tall round room made of stone blocks.

  The Keep.

  Far above, the Lookout waved through the trap door then returned to his duties.

  Welcome home, I thought. Death was a quick trip back to base.

  I stepped outside and squinted from the sunlight.

  The archery range was complete. Several targets were lined up along the end of the range with a small stone building for housing archers at one side.

  I pulled up its menu.

  Train Archer Unit: Cost 300 gold – Yes/No?

  Yes.

  Several archers appeared on the range and shot arrows at the line of targets. Others stood to the side, fletching new arrows.

  Training time: five minutes.

  By now, there was enough gold for another unit of footmen so I started their training.

  I frowned at my status line. Resources were not being collected even close to fast enough. If I wanted to begin an assembly line of troops, I'd need more workers and for that, a Keep upgrade.

  The current bottle-neck was stone. Maybe if I took workers from...

  Enemy Contact!

  What?! I spun around looking for an enemy army rushing toward the base. Then my eyes were drawn to the map.

  The footmen unit I'd assigned to the center altar was close to arriving at their destination. Two enemy grunt icons were now at the middle and moving to meet my lone unit.

  I slapped my virtual forehead. I had completely forgotten about them, and now they were marching straight into trouble.

  Panicking, I ordered the unit to stop, which they immediately did. But what to do with them? If I had them engage the enemy, they would be killed by overwhelming numbers. Plus, there were other enemy unit icons appearing from their north and heading toward the center platform.

  But having them retreat wasn't an option either as they were now too close to the enemy and would be cut to pieces.

  With little choice, I decided they would fight and maybe reduce the enemy's unit strength. Selecting the unit again gave me a formation menu with a little diagram beside each.

  Circle Formation

  Staggered Formation

  Square Formation

  The square formation looked to be the most compact and gave them a small defensive boost. Or so I hoped.

  Square Formation selected.

  I watched, helpless, as the footmen unit assembled themselves just as the first of the two grunt units smashed into them.

  Footmen Unit training Complete.

  The new unit assembled outside the barracks.

  Now what? I looked around at my base. There were the two footmen units here, one of which split in guard duty, with an archer unit to pop out soon.

  Do I send the two footmen units out now and follow up with the archers? Or do I sit here and let my troops die because of my own stupidity?

  The abandoned unit was in full engagement now. My combat log started to scroll.

  +1 Battle points

  +1 Battle points

  +1 Battle points

  What elation I felt from the damage they were dealing evaporated as I watched their unit icon get smaller and smaller.

/>   It wouldn't take long before they were destroyed. To their north, the other enemy icons kept coming but were generic. No telling what they could be.

  Regardless of what they were it spelled trouble for me.

  Suppressing my growing panic, I turned my attention to the two base units. I commanded the split unit to forgo their guard duties at the gold mine and the banner alter and reform next to the second unit.

  As they moved into position, the third footmen unit finished training and I moved them to stand next to the others.

  My gold was now too low to start training another footmen unit which made me more than a little angry.

  Keep it together, Vee, I told myself. If I got ticked off every time a messed up, then I'd always be angry.

  Archer Unit training Complete.

  Twelve archers wearing red hooded cloaks appeared next to the range. Each had a short bow and a full quiver of arrows.

  The sight of their bows did not give me confidence. They were for limited range which meant they'd be at risk of getting overrun. I would have to keep them to the rear of the footmen units.

  Footmen Unit eliminated.

  I looked to the map with dread.

  The footmen icon vanished, and a moment after, all the enemy icons on the map blinked out of existence.

  Fog of war. If a unit didn't have line of sight on the enemy, it couldn't be seen on the map.

  Now I was blind.

  A chat request appeared on my screen. Perplexed, I accepted it.

  The scout's smug grin greeted me. “In position, Commander. And I can report multiple enemies located.”

  Right. I'd forgotten all about this guy. Instead of focusing on all my available assets I was letting the current crisis overwhelm me.

  The scout's path had taken him up the east side of the map which linked with the middle area, forming a big circle, just as I suspected. Now he was sitting within the tree line directly east of the center altar.

  “Good work,” I said. Now I could see what was coming at me. “Let's see what you got.”

  The scout turned away and the camera view tilted up. Through the trees where he was hiding was the center platform area. The two grunt units that had just killed my footmen could be seen in the distance.

  Other enemy units had arrived and were in the process of crossing the river via the altar platform. Two more footmen units and, behind them, two archery units.

  Even more appeared in the distance to the north, but I couldn't discern their unit type.

  “Can you tell what those are?” I asked, feeling foolish as I squinted at the chat screen.

  The scout turned to look at me. “Would you like me to move closer? No problem at all.”

  “No problem, huh?” I found myself asking. This NPC has got some attitude, and I was intrigued despite myself. “Why is that?”

  That crooked grin appeared on his face, again. “Because I'm the best scout you got.”

  I laughed. “You're the only scout I got!”

  “Exactly!” he said, grin widening.

  By the Gaming Gods. I thought. Was I actually flirting with this NPC? How stupid was that? Maybe I've been playing this game too long, if that was the case.

  Over his shoulder, Amara dropped out of Shadow Form directly behind him. She raised her sword.

  “Look out!” I yelled, surprised.

  “I am looking out,” the scout said with mild confusion. “It's my job to-.”

  With a swing Amara cut his head off, and just as the chat view terminated I saw her grinning at the camera.

  At me.

  Now I swore. Curse words flowed like water from a roiling river.

  I tried to calm down but only succeeded in making it worse. My hands were shaking with rage.

  There was only one thing that could temper my anger.

  I pointed at the archer unit. “Fall in behind us and stay close.” The archers nodded in unison and moved to stand behind the formation of footmen.

  Smoke's respawn timer still had five minutes on it, but that was fine. I'd hoof it with my troops for now.

  I ran through the footmen ranks and stood before them. They made quite a sight, albeit a smaller one that I'd like.

  “We're heading out to meet the enemy!” I shouted.

  All the men cheered, raising their weapons with scattered shouts of, “By Y'Godda!”

  I turned and began running northwest, my troops behind me, one unit following the next. My heart was thudding at full speed.

  So, Amara wanted a fight? I thought, ticked off.

  Fine.

  She was going to get one.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  We marched as fast as I could push my army.

  Within a few minutes we reached the midway point of the curve but there was no sign of the enemy. Could Amara be camped out at the altar, waiting for me?

  My anger had subsided, and I started to think through my plan only to realize I had none. Find Amara and attack. Not very strategic, just a decision based off of emotion.

  I looked back at my army. It made for an impressive sight to see them marching along with determined looks. It gave me a bit of a charge.

  Thorm, my friend who I'd adventured with many times, went through a long phase where all he played were these Battle Fields. It had become an addiction to the point he even stopped questing in the outer gaming world all together. He attained a championship level and entered competitive ladders. But after a really bad defeat, where he suspected his opponent had cheated but couldn't prove it, he quit Battle Fields all together.

  He use to say he loved the charge of leading an army into battle so much he couldn't stop himself from playing.

  I'd dismissed that out of hand, until now. There was definitely a unique feeling you got with dozens of troops following you into battle.

  Still, I worried these units would be enough. Amara had quite a few assembled before I lost sight of them.

  As we marched I'd kept an impatient eye on my gold resource counter. Now it ticked over enough to train a new footmen unit.

  “Halt!” I said raising my hand.

  In unison, all four units stopped. Staring straight ahead, they quietly waited.

  I needed to do some quick micro-managing before continuing on.

  First, I put another footmen unit into training. The moment they popped out, I'd have them follow us.

  Then I switched the worker unit at the quarry to the gold mine as well. This put all my workers on gold duty. The stone and lumber for buildings and the Keep upgrade could wait. Right now, troops were the priority and gold was desperately needed for them.

  Maybe I should use what resources I had to build another barracks? Two units in training were better than one.

  I could see how players could spend most of their time just waiting for things to happen. Waiting on resources, waiting on units to train, waiting on units moving.

  “Enemy spotted!” shouted one of the footmen in the front unit, and pointed.

  Marching quickly toward us from around the northern bend were Amara's units.

  Waiting on the enemy was one thing I didn't have to worry about.

  “Get ready!” I shouted. My troops tensed.

  I surveyed the approaching army.

  Two units of troll grunts marched side by side, followed by another grunt unit.

  Trailing behind these were two units of troll archers. Even from this distance I saw their bows were the same short variety as my own archers.

  As they fully emerged from around the bend, no other units appeared.

  I allowed myself a slight sense of relief. Aside from an extra unit of archers, the armies were even. And they had the distinct disadvantage of lacking a commander. Where was Amara?

  Turning to my troops I barked out orders, and they reacted quickly.

  I brought forward all three of my footmen units and lined them up, side by side. Then, I moved my archer unit in close, but instead of keeping them in a square, I used their formation menu to
spread them out in a single line.

  The enemy units copied me, bringing their third grunt unit up to step between the other two. Their archer units positioned themselves directly behind the grunts, but did not change their square formations. All this was done without altering their speed.