by Adam Drake
The ogre grinned and slowly stood. By the Gaming Gods, he was huge! Easily two stories tall and nearly as wide as my Keep.
Grax stretched his thick arms which resembled massive oaks. “It will be good to fight again. Who shall I crush for you first?”
Four Minute Warning!
“Funny you should ask that,” I said. “Let's get to the central platform, quickly.”
“And then?” he asked.
“Crush everything there.”
The ogre's grin grew wider. “That is a good plan, Commander.”
We moved down the pathway, Grax's colossal frame bumping into trees, snapping them or felling them over.
Emerging from the tree line, I was startled to see my new cavalry unit running toward me.
The unit leader raised a hand in greeting, but I pointed northward.
“To the platform!” I shouted. He nodded and thundered past.
As I leapt onto Smoke, Grax practically exploded out of the forest, sending branches and trees flying everywhere. In his hands was a large log, a makeshift club. Placing one end on his shoulder, he turned and ran north, heavy footfalls shaking the ground.
Wow, I thought, kicking Smoke into a gallop to catch up with the sprinting ogre. The champion's size and speed was terrifying. I was just thankful he was on my side.
We rushed northward, and I made sure that the cavalry did not get too far ahead. As fast as Grax was, he wasn't faster than a horse at full charge.
With no clue what we were about to face, we rounded the final bend. The anticipation was high.
The grassy plains widened and the river with the platform came into view.
Enemy units were assembled there.
Two grunt units stood side by side on the southern edge of the platform, in square formation. They practically bristled with spears.
On the north side of the platform were two units of archers spread out in a double line.
And at the altar on the platform was my red banner, clutched by a skeletal hand. Beside it, sitting on her horse, was Amara.
Oh, boy, I thought taking in the army before me. Could this get any worse?
Enemy Spotted!
Confused, I looked to my map.
The Lookout at the Keep had spotted enemy units incoming from the northeast. It was the grunts and archers which had stopped me from chasing Amara. Now they were marching on my base.
With a quick check at my gold levels I assigned both a footmen unit and archer unit to training. Hopefully, they would pop out in time to save the base.
Three Minute Warning!
And speaking of time.
All three of us, me, Grax, and my lone cavalry unit, continued our suicidal charge at the platform. There was nothing else I could do now.
Ownership of the banner would be decided in the next few moments. All or nothing, here we go.
As we closed the distance to the waiting grunt units, I pointed my sword forward and screamed the one word which would now decide me fate.
“Attack!”
CHAPTER TEN
A horrific volley of arrows rained upon us, but did not affect our speed. I did not have time to check everyone's damage, but neither I nor Smoke were hit.
Just short of the bristling spear line, I stopped, letting Grax and the cavalry charge past. Switching to my bow I fired wildly into the assembled grunts. No point getting speared to death before the fight even started. Let the heavy units take them on.
And take them on, they did.
The cavalry charged headlong into the first grunt unit, horses stomping over bodies, spears snapping with the impact. The riders were screaming with rage and swinging their swords.
Grax ran straight into the other unit of grunts. But before he got within spear range, he heaved his log with both hands over one shoulder and swung it across like a bat in a wide arc.
Grunts and spears flew everywhere. One grunt even pinwheeled over the platform to bounce into the archers.
Figuring Grax had the advantage for the moment, I concentrated my arrow fire on the grunts engaged with the cavalry.
I risked a glance at Amara. Bow in hand, she hadn't moved, nor made any indication she was going to join in just yet. Plastered across her face was a smug smile.
She knew she had this.
Getting angry, I aimed my bow in her direction. But the archers fired again.
Since they couldn't aim at the enemy tangling with their own units, they settled on the easier target.
Me.
The sky darkened with a swarm of descending arrows.
Crap! I yanked on Smoke's reins and moved us out of the way just in time.
Two dozen arrows sprouted from the ground I'd just vacated.
In response, I fired back at the archers, hitting three in quick succession. But it wouldn't be enough. If left alone, those archers would eventually kill us all.
Taking a tremendous risk, I shouted a command at the cavalry leader.
“Ignore the grunts! Kill the archers!”
The cavalry leader reacted instantly. His riders immediately disengaged from the grunts, and trampling over some of them, charged across the platform.
Before the grunts could turn to follow, I took Smoke into their ranks, switching to my sword and swinging like a lunatic.
To my right, Grax was stomping on grunts with his huge feet, and batting others into the air with log swings. But the survivors kept fighting, jabbing with their spears into his legs.
Focusing on my own fight, I smacked away spear thrusts while using Smoke's size to push through the grunts. One decapitation followed another.
At the periphery, my cavalry unit, already severally depleted having started short several men, was slaughtering one of the archer units, who had now routed.
The other archer unit fired at my cavalry with impunity while keeping their distance.
I cursed myself for not telling the cavalry to split themselves across both archer units. Now one archer unit served as bait while the other worked on finishing their attackers off.
But I had no time to deal with this screw up. Smoke took a hard hit with a spear into his rear left leg and stumbled. The horse had received too much damage previously, and racing headlong into this fight without time to heal had taken its toll.
Smoke teetered over to his right side, then collapsed. Feeling this about to occur, I barely leapt from the saddle over probing spear blades, and tumbled to the ground.
Your Mount has been slain.
Up on my feet again, Grax's shadow passed over me. He'd crushed and stomped the entire grunt unit on his own.
“More battle,” he said as he strode into the remaining grunts. “More blood.”
“All yours!” I said, relieved. A glance at Amara showed her still rooted in the same spot, only this time with a sword, but the same smug look on her face. What was she doing? She could have at least assisted her men with her bow and not given up her defense of the altar.
Confused, I was about to run over to her when I noticed the last two riders of my cavalry cut down the final archer.
But there was still the other archer unit. They fired a volley and one of the riders went down. The lone rider still charged at them. I knew he wouldn't make it.
And once he was dead, those archers could easily take me out with a single volley.
Two Minute Warning!
I gave Amara a nasty look. She just smiled at me from her mount, unmoving.
Convinced she would not attack, at least for the moment, I shouted to Grax. “Go crush those archers!”
Grax immediately turned and raced toward them, causing a grunt to bounce of his leg and go flying. The remaining grunts tried to follow him but he was too fast.
The last rider fell to the archer's volley, but not before Grax stomped into them, log-club swinging.
I turned to Amara, sword at the ready. “You and I have some unfinished business.”
She stared at me from atop her mount, grinning like an idiot.
And I sailed straight through her and tumbled across the platform.
I spun around and looked at her in confusion. She wasn't solid. Phased?
Sensing a trap, I cautiously moved closer to her, and swung my sword at the front legs of her horse.
The sword passed through them, like they were nothing but air.
Annoyed, and even more confused by now, I walked forward into the ghostly image swinging my sword.
Amara and her horse suddenly flickered then vanished.
It was a trick. It wasn't Amara at all. She'd left this image of her as a decoy. Where was she?
Then it hit me. If she wasn't here, then my banner was unguarded.
I moved toward the altar to take the banner from the outstretched hand of the skeletal altar.
Four remain grunts suddenly rushed in to block my way, forming a line with spears at the ready.
I snorted a laugh. This wouldn't take much. A glance at Grax showed he had crushed the archer's unit down to five men. The banner was as good as mine.
A quick swing took out the closest grunt. But as I stepped in to take out the rest, I noticed movement in the trees to the north of the platform.
A rider, wearing mostly gray with a blue vest, emerged from the forest and I recognized it as Amara. Behind her, from within the thick forest, something huge moved. An orange light appeared there and grew brighter.
Suddenly, a tall being stepped out into the clearing. It was a tree, in the shape of a man, with arms and legs. I'd seen similar before in my questing life and knew it to be a Treant. But this was much bigger than any I'd encountered before.
A champion.
And being a champion, it couldn't be any old run of the mill Treant. It was on fire. Where there should have been leaves, there were large orange flames. Huge fires burned at the ends of its arms. Large cracks in its trunk formed a kind of face, with eyes and a mouth. And from within those, a fire burned.
Shocked, I took in these new arrivals. This was not good.
The Fire Treant ran forward toward Grax.
Amara kicked at her horse and galloped toward the platform, racing past Grax who was busy crushing the head of an archer with a hand.
Grax finally noticed the giant flaming tree coming at him. He turned to meet the attack, swinging his log-club.
The Fire Treant raised a flaming hand and grabbed the log-club, stopping the mighty swing. It plunged its other flaming hand into Grax's face.
Grax bellowed in agony.
One Minute Warning!
Uh-oh. Things were getting out of hand quickly.
With Amara racing toward the platform, I attacked the grunts blocking my way to the banner. Two sword swipes left two of them dead. The last held his ground.
Amara reached the platform and galloped toward me.
I feinted in one direction, causing the last grunt to stab at empty air. Then I sliced his head off.
With no time left, I didn't even bother to look at Amara. Instead, I leapt at the altar and grabbed the banner by its long wooden handle.
The skeletal hand released its grip. The banner was mine!
You have retrieved your banner!
Amara slammed into me with her mount sending me sprawling to the ground. The banner popped out of my grasp and skidded across the platform where it stopped, standing straight up like a flag pole.
Your banner had been dropped!
I had it! I touched it! Why didn't it get returned?
But Amara would not give me pause to think through this annoying new conundrum. She dropped from her horse and attacked me with her sword.
I got to my feet just in time to parry her swings, which were fast and savage. Her face was scrunched with rage.
“You FILTERED FILTERED!” she screamed swinging at me.
So fierce was her attack, I couldn't even counter with my own. It took everything I had to parry her swings.
“You need a more original vocabulary,” I said between her strikes. A glance told me where the banner was. But why hadn't it returned? Was I suppose to do something?
Thirty Second Warning!
She angled herself between me and the banner. I had the frightening realization she was at full health, and my own was now less than twenty percent. Arrows and spears had taken their toll.
“This whole thing should have been finished at the start,” she said and launched into a quick succession of attacks.
She pushed me back so fast, I had to somersault backward over the altar.
Landing on the other side, I asked, “What the heck do you want with my quest item? It's mine! I worked for it, not you.”
Amara marched around the altar but I moved the other way. For several moments she chased me in circles.
I wanted to laugh, or would have if the game wasn't about to end.
Twenty Second Warning!
“The banner is worth a fortune on the auction house,” Amara said, trying to catch me. “It's worth more to me than to you, FILTERED.”
Beyond her I could see Grax and the Fire Treant locked in each other's grasp. Fire danced over Grax's body. Even the arrows sticking out of his back were on fire. Both were bellowing at each other with deafening roars.
“When I win this,” I said, “I'll buy you a dictionary.”
Suddenly, Grax dropped his flaming log-club and, while holding the Fire Treant close with the other hand, drove his fist into the Treant's mouth.
“You're just going to buy your way to the nearest crypt in a second. This game is mine!” Amara said, trying to get close. She was unaware of what was happening with her champion.
Grax yanked something out of the Treant's mouth that looked like a wooden heart. The Tree champion's flames intensified, then sputtered, and went out.
Ten Second Warning!
“Doesn't look good for your friend,” I said with a nod over her shoulder.
Amara blinked in momentary confusion and, as she turned impulsively to look, I made a break for the banner.
Amara screamed and chased after me. As I passed her, she struck out and sliced my right leg.
A warning on my screen told me that leg was now useless. I sprawled to the ground but my momentum took me within reach of the banner.
I grabbed it with my free hand.
You have retrieved your banner!
Five Second Warning!
Amara descended on me, bringing her sword down with a heavy swing.
From the ground, I barely deflected the blow. The tip of her blade sliced my abdomen.
Four Seconds!
I tried to scramble to my feet, but another swing from Amara kept me down as I blocked it. She was screaming like a maniac.
Three Seconds!
Then I realized what I needed to do. The banner didn't just need to be removed from the altar. It had to be taken off the platform, too!
Abandoning my own defense, I clutched the banner close to me with one hand and, dismissing my sword, used the other to crawl/fall backward to the edge of the platform which was only a few paces away.
Amara stayed close and slashed my left thigh.
Two Seconds!
My health was now at five percent and one leg refused to cooperate. Still, I managed to twist my body around and throw myself toward the platform's edge.
One Second!
With both arms outstretched, I slid along the platform on my side like sliding into home plate. The bottom end of the banner's wooden handle slipped over the very edge of the platform to touch the dirt outside it.
The banner vanished.
Your banner has been returned to base!
But I didn't have time to process this, let alone celebrate. I looked up as Amara loomed over me.
I saw the briefest image: Amara bringing her sword down upon me, eyes wild with rage. And towering behind Amara was Grax, the ogre's clot
hes and hair aflame. He, too, was swinging his flaming log-club downward, but at Amara's head.