Escape to the Fringe (Fringe Chronicles Book 1)

by Adam Drake

  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 clothes and hair aflame. He, too, was swinging his flaming log-club downward, but at Amara's head.

  Then my view-screen went black, and a message appeared.

  You have been slain in battle!

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  My heart was racing and sweat cloyed at my skin beneath my simulation suit.

  I felt jubilation at recovering my banner having no clue what had been required to do so. This only strengthened my resolve to play Battle Fields more often and perhaps study guides on military strategy.

  Now I can see why Thorm became so addicted to them. Those last few moments fighting at the platform were some of the most intense I'd experienced playing this game in years. There were previous tough encounters, but not quite like that.

  And I hoped there would be many more.

  My thoughts went to Amara. She'd used that flaky hologram trick as a weak ploy to buy her time while she fetched the Flame Treant champion. And it worked, too.

  Was Grax okay? Before dying, I didn't get the chance to see if more enemy units were racing toward the platform. As far as I knew, he was the only one left standing after all that fighting.

  But as the blackness of my screen brightened to reveal me laying in the crypt, my attention shifted from my wounded champion to my wounded Keep.

  The map revealed that the enemy troll grunts, backed by archers, had attacked the base. The Keep was damaged to just under half its hit points.

  Thankfully, both the footmen and archers I set to training had emerged to stop the assault.

  Now, both forces were entangled in a ferocious fight. Even down in the crypt I could hear the clashing of weapons and screams of the dying.

  Amara Frostwalker has been reborn to the world. Let the Battle continue!

  I felt a little sense of victory knowing Amara had been squashed like a bug by Grax. But when I looked at my combat log, I'd only received 100 Battle Points for her death, while she got 1,000 for mine.

  It had to be because I wasn't the one who killed her. Whatever. I'll take it for now and hope to come across another champion to spend it on.
/>   I leapt from the slab and raced up the stairs. Emerging from the floor of the Keep revealed the damage which had already been done. Huge cracks webbed the walls and black smoke filled the upper ceiling.

  But even through this I saw the Lookout wave down at me, then disappear.

  Not wasting another moment, I raced outside.

  Troll grunts lunged at footmen who parried and countered. My human archers had taken up position to one side of the archery range and fired volleys at the troll archers standing a short distance to the north.

  I judged the strength of both forces to be about even. But now I joined the fray.

  Striking out at the nearest troll, I dodged a spear jab by rolling to the ground. Standing, I thrust my sword up through the jaw of another troll.

  A flashing icon on the map drew my eyes. It was Grax asking for new orders.

  What was I doing? Other things needed my immediate attention right now. Fighting would come second. My men could handle this for a few more moments.

  I ran through the fight to stand in the doorway of the Keep, mindful of arrant arrows and spears.

  Grax appeared severely injured, but alive.

  “I need more trolls to crush,” he told me from the chat view. His hair and eyebrows were all gone, burnt away. Wisps of smoke curled up from his blackened flesh.

  With a laugh, I said, “Don't worry, there will be more trolls. I promise.”

  He peered about, somewhat disappointed. “Now what shall I do?”

  Good question. Bringing him south to the base would be helpful. He could help guard while I repaired the buildings and built up another army.

  But that would leave the platform undefended. Right now, with Grax there, it was in my control. Even if Amara managed to sneak down here and snatch the banner away again, she'd have a burnt, angry Grax to contend with when she reached the middle.

  Also, without a scout or other unit in the vicinity, Grax could see what was coming from the north. And maybe keep them from moving further south just by his presence.

  It wouldn't last long. He was injured and alone now. But as a temporary stopgap it'd have to do.

  “Guard the platform. If a solo unit is dumb enough to try to cross it take them out. But if there is more than you can handle, fall back, and come to the base.”

  Grax frowned. “I can handle all units. No problem. I hope I don't have to wait too long.”

  I hoped we got to wait a long time and closed the chat. Time was needed now to get things in order.

  The sound of the surrounding battle brought my thoughts back to the immediate situation. I went into the command menu and put another footmen and archer unit into training. Thankfully, my workers had been diligently mining away this entire time so gold was not an issue. But it soon would be.

  With a final check of the map, I then launched into the fray, sword swinging.

  In less than a minute, I helped my footmen eliminate the last of the grunts. Then we ran at the archers who managed a single volley before my forces cut into them.

  One archer managed to hit me in the thigh which only ticked me off. More sword swings (and a little swearing) and the archers were decimated.

  I looked around. The remaining men of my two units raised their weapons in a cheer.

  “Yay for us,” I said, but didn't feel it. There was too much to do. Right now, Amara was frantically building up an army, and I had little doubt she would make it sizable before marching south.

  I assigned the footman to the banner altar. They would not move from there ever again if I had anything to say about it.

  The archers, I sent north along the western curve to link up with Grax. I ordered the unit leader to assemble in a double line formation on the south edge of the platform. That way, they could support Grax when he engaged any approaching units.

  It wasn't much but still better than nothing.

  Then I turned my attention to my poor beleaguered Keep, which billowed smoke from every opening.

  Keep: 2,200 / 10,000 hit points.

  Those enemy units had really done a number on it, but thankfully they didn't succeed in razing it to the ground.

  For this, I pulled one unit of workers off mining duty and assigned them to Keep repairs. It would be very expensive and repairing it fully would take too long and take up too many resources. So I resolved to bring it up to 5,000 hit points, at least.

  With the workers on repairs I looked around. Other than waiting for units to finish training, and gold to be mined, there wasn't much else I could do but wait.

  So I did.

  Once the footmen and archer units emerged I sent them both north together with orders to guard the platform.

  While I controlled the middle, I didn't have to worry about enemy units suddenly appearing at the base.

  Another archer unit went into training, but instead of another footmen unit I chose a scout next, on a whim.

  When he popped out, I sent him north along the east curve (just in case an rogue enemy unit was sitting there) with orders to move past the middle section and scout the enemy base, if possible.

  At this point, the Keep repairs reached halfway. But instead of sending these workers back to the mine, I sent them to the neglected quarry.

  My intention was to upgrade the Keep, and for that I'd need a lot more stone. Once upgraded, I'd have more worker units, and thus more resources quicker.

  Unless Amara screwed things up for me, again.

  Enemy Spotted!

  My heart leapt in my chest. The map showed an enemy cavalry unit approaching the platform from the northeast.

  Grax was already moving to intercept them.

  The lone archer unit I sent earlier was now just arriving at the platform and formed a double line along its southern edge.

  Freaking out a little, I commanded Grax to fall back to the platform. From there, he'd have the support of the archers. Running headlong into the cavalry in his injured state would be the end of him.

  Grax grumbled in protest but did as commanded. The cavalry unit drew close but stopped just past the range of the archers.

  I could sense Grax's anticipation. He really wanted to kill someone. But he needed to wait.

  We'd all have a chance to die soon enough.

  The cavalry unit then turned and casually trotted back to the northeast and vanished around the bend. I thought this was a little strange. Without a unit in plain view, Amara wouldn't be able to see the central area. Which meant she must have placed a scout nearby.

  I was also convinced that the cavalry unit had meant to draw Grax away.

  Soon the footman and archer unit arrived at the middle, much to my relief. I split the archer unit in two and had each half line up on either side of the platform along the river's edge.

  Then I set the footmen directly on the platform with orders not to move. They weren't there to protect the altar, since Amara would need the banner first for it to be of any danger, but to block anyone from trying to cross. I didn't think the river could by forded, at least not without a lot of difficulty so the platform was doubly important to control.

  The next pair of archers and footmen were sent north, too. I felt confident that the only potential attack on the base now would be a solo Amara and could be dealt with. So any more units I trained were to be sent north immediately.

  But not now. Instead, of building up my forces, I decided to wait and upgrade the Keep. I already had enough lumber, it was gold and stone that needed to accumulate.

  This seemed to take ages, but the rate of gathering was pretty much even. By the time I had enough of everything the last two units I'd sent north were in position.

  I then highlighted the Keep and purchased the upgrade option.

  The tower Keep morphed instantly into a wider version of itself. The walls became thicker and more arrows slots appeared. Not much different.

  Then I noticed not one but six Lookouts waving down at me, each armed with a crossbow. The defensive radius also expanded and
easily enveloped the banner's altar.

  Nice. I pulled up the command menu and saw the option to hire more workers. Three of ten units currently active.

  Sweet! Seven more worker units, here we come!

  One hundred gold produced a new unit that stumbled out of the Keep's door. I sent them to the gold mine. Now I just had to wait for the gold to accumulate and I'd hire the other six.