“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.
Not waiting for a reply, I ran at her, then jumped. I sailed through the air, screaming like a banshee. Just before the moment of impact, I swung my sword.
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.