But when I tried to use the Health Boost, a red system message appeared.
Not a Battle Field item. Cannot be used.
What the heck? I thought while dodging a spear thrust.
I tried to use the Health Boost, again, but the same message appeared.
A cry of anguish pulled me back into the situation.
Amara had switched to her bow and shot the worker leader through the head as he tried running at her.
Rage overtook me. With a determined focus, I smacked away the last troll’s spear thrust and jammed my sword through its throat. It collapsed to the ground.
+1 Battle Points.
Amara backed her mount away a few paces from me, a victorious grin plastered across her smug face. “Got any final words, FILTERED?” she said raising her bow to aim at me.
I’d maneuvered myself between her and the banner’s altar. With one hand covering the bleeding wound in my side, I knew the writing was on the wall.
“Yeah,” I said with a smile. “Give up now and I will show you mercy.”
Amara cackled. “You got quite the mouth on you. Had I known you were a Battle Field noob, I would have waited a while longer before crushing you. Built a full army and then marched over the ruins of your base.”
As she spoke, I noticed a system message at the bottom of my screen. It was marked as a non-priority. When I brought it up, it caused me to catch my breath.
Your only Worker Unit has been eliminated. Do you wish to purchase another – Cost 100 gold? Yes/No?
“Oh, heck, yeah!” I blurted.
Amara’s triumphant expression flickered with confusion. “What are you talking about? You want me to crush you?”
“Yes,” I said with a widening smile.
Worker Unit purchased.
Suddenly, the door to the Keep flew open and a dozen new workers spilled out in a rush.
Amara shifted her focus from me to the new arrivals and fired her bow at them. One of the workers died from the shot.
Immediately, I pointed at Amara and shouted, “Get her!”
The eleven remaining workers turned their heads in unison to look at Amara. Axes appeared in their hands which they raised with a cheer, then charged.
Amara barked a laugh as she shot and killed another worker. “This is pathetic,” she said. “You are just delaying the inevitable, you stupid FILTERED.”
She was right, I thought. But only partially.
I summoned a Magma arrow which appeared in my quiver. At close quarters, I hadn’t bothered using my bow against Amara. She was too fast, and the game penalized range attacks within a short range. But now an opportunity presented itself.
The worker unit massed around her, commanding her attention. For whatever reason, she did not run away, or try to get distance from them. Instead, she switched to her sword and hacked at her feeble attackers.
Ignoring various ‘You are bleeding out!’ health warnings, I took aim and fired.
Amara must have sensed the attack coming. As she cut the head off of a determined worker, she looked over at me.
The magma arrow hit her right in the sternum, piercing her chest. Instantly, she dropped her sword and her avatar screamed in pain. Her screams turned into a hellish gurgling sound.
I knew what was about to happen and commanded the workers to fall back, which they did.
Amara fell from her horse and spasmed on the ground. From her mouth and ears gushed hot lava. It melted her face away in an instant and soon bubbled over her entire body.
In seconds, Amara’s avatar had been rendered down to a bubbling puddle of magma. Her horse turned and ran away in fright.
A system message appeared.
Vivian Valesh has killed Amara Frostwalker. +1,000 Battle Points.
The workers let out a cheer, but I wasn’t feeling particularly victorious. Yes, I had killed her, but she’d be back once she resurrected at a crypt.
The only way to win this battle field was with her banner.
Still, at least I prevented her from stealing an early victory with a grunt rush tactic.
I pushed these thoughts from my mind. My avatar’s health dropped further and the image on my view-screen wavered.
Crap, I thought. I can’t die now. Amara would get a thousand battle points! She didn’t deserve that!
I suddenly found myself on the ground, Smoke looking down on me with equine concern.
If I can’t use my Health Boosts in the battle field, how in the heck am I expected to survive very long?
As my screen darkened I heard the Lookout shout from high above.
“Get the Commander inside! Quickly!”
Hands lifted me and I could make out motion on my screen. Was I being moved?
As I prepared for a trip to the nearest crypt, a system message appeared.
Amara Frostwalker has been reborn to the world. The battle continues!
Figures, I thought.
Then the world went dark.
CHAPTER FIVE
You Have Been Rendered Unconscious.
Oh great, I thought as I glared at my black screen. It would be better if my avatar died now so that I could pop up at a crypt and get back to building my base. And this time I’d get my own grunts, and fast!
I didn’t think I’d survive another grunt rush. It was hard to tell if Amara would attempt one again. She needed to call up a new unit of grunts, but I didn’t know if she had the resources to do it immediately.
It would help if I knew more about this Battle Field game. I inwardly cursed myself for never learning this aspect of the gaming universe. I’d certainly explored the rest, but war games were never of interest to me. Questing was.
Now I had to learn, and quick. Amara could not be allowed to win and be awarded the Lost War Banner of Y’Godda. It would mess up my quest chain I’d struggled so hard through.
And then there was the final reward for returning the banner to the quest giver.
Frustrated waiting for my inevitable death, I pulled up my inventory again. I didn’t have a proper chance to look at it more closely while fighting Amara.
All the items my avatar carried were grayed out. I couldn’t select any of them. Health Boosts. Maps. Potions. Nothing.
The only things I could access were some skills, weapons and armor. The last was quite fortunate as it allowed me to continue to use my legendary Cloak of Shadows, but not all of its myriad of benefits. No phase, or invisibility, or teleportation. Sheesh. Why don’t they just take away all the fun?
Out of all my special gadgets and trick arrows, only the magma arrow was available.
My view-screen began to brighten, and the darkness faded. The health indicate at the edge of my vision began to rise at a wonderfully quick rate. Was a healer attending to my wounds?
When I could see fully again, I found myself face down on a cold stone floor. With a groan from my avatar I rolled over and sat up.
I was in the Keep, its circular stone walls stretching above me. A narrow stone stairway spiraled up its length until it reached the wooden roof and ended at an open trap door. Through the door was a face peering down at me. The Lookout.
There was nothing else here. No furnishings or other exits save the one wooden door.
The worker leader knelt beside me. When I sat up his face changed from deep concern to elation.
“Thank Y’Godda, you are okay!” he said and danced a happy jig.
I laughed at the odd sight and got to my feet. Although my balance was a little off, it improved as my health bar increased.
“How did you heal me?” I asked. “I was surely going to die.” I looked at my side where the spear at almost gutted me, but there was no wound. Even my light armor had mended itself.