Adam Drake - Blackout

Feeling like an idiot, I stood and brushed myself off.

Then I looked to the map.

Amara appeared within view of my fighting units at the middle. She circled the platform once, but my army were still firmly in control of it. If she landed, she would be swarmed.

Then, as if deciding now was not the time, she flew northward, and her icon eventually vanished as she passed out of view.

My army still fought a protracted war. Units crashed against enemy units. Formations on both sides morphed as the battle situation changed. Amara’s army was gaining some ground, but my double block of units kept them back.

Still, it was only a matter of time. Now that she had my banner, she could sit back at her base and funnel a constant stream of trolls south. Eventually, she’d break through or simply wear me down. Then the platform would be hers.

And the game would be over.

Getting angry again, I started to make my way west, the shortest distance out of the forest according to the map.

This terrain was not meant for travel, at all. Most of the way I had to climb up from the cramped forest floor with its huge root system that intertwined to make a living barrier. Carefully, I leapt from branch to branch.

I was mindful of my health. Yeah, I could purposely take a tumble and be back in my base in thirty seconds. But Amara would get Battle Points for it. Even if she didn’t directly kill me, her big bird was the one that dropped me. She’d get 100 points, and I wouldn’t let her have them.

Before I emerged at the forest’s edge I had called on Smoke, who ran up from the base to meet me. When I finally escaped the forest gymnasium he was there, nickering in welcome.

I climbed up into his saddle. “Let’s get to the Keep.”

As we headed south, I looked over the perpetual fight in the middle.

My units were smashed up against Amara’s units and although she had more cavalry than I, more of my own horsemen were heading north or lined up down both approaches.

Grax still sat back from the main action, guarding the altar. His health had actually increased a little, perhaps to an innate regeneration ability for champions. But he still was not strong enough to move closer and assist. A single volley from an archer unit would do him in.

I was genuinely at a loss as to what do to next. Fight until Amara gained the platform through attrition?

As we arrived at my base, both the defending archer unit and footmen unit had retaken their positions. All their faces were sullen. In their minds, they had failed and lost the banner.

The cavalry unit I had redirected to the base stood by. I simply sent them north again.

“You fought well,” I said to the defending units as I dismounted. “And against difficult odds.”

This only seemed to mollify them slightly.

What else could be said? The banner was gone.

Before entering the Keep I looked northward. Far in the distance were two thread-thin beams of light.

Wonderful.

I also noted my scout had been spotted and killed by archers. Great.

I entered the Keep and sat in the middle of the floor. Above, a Lookout waved at me from the trapdoor and returned to duty.

At least the Lookouts respawn on their own, I thought absentmindedly.

As I watched my health regenerate, I glared at the unit icons on the map. This was not fun. Losing, that is. Worse, the knowledge I was going to lose, regardless, sucked even more.

Amara was in possession of both banners.

I could attempt to fight my way to her base. Even if successful, it could take forever to get there. I’d also have to secure both approaches because while concentrating on one, the other could be a threat to my advancing army’s flank.

I looked at the map with its figure-eight formation and the grass plains which funneled units around like circles of death.

The trees were more than just a resource they were an impediment, too. So thickly packed that even a footmen unit could not pass through them.

Suddenly, I was struck with a thought.

I scrutinized the map more closely. Could it work?

Only one way to find out.

With my health bar at 100%, I left the Keep. Outside, I mounted Smoke. To the footmen and archer unit leaders, I said, “Hold fast while I’m gone.”

They snapped a salute. “Yes, Commander!”

Part of me blamed them for letting the banner be taken, but really the blame was all mine. Inexperienced and completely unprepared, I’d let Amara have the upper hand this entire time.

I rode northwest at a hard gallop. By the midway point of the bend I passed units who were waiting in line to get to middle and more were still coming from the base. Crazy.

One giant grindfest.

Maybe I could change that.

As I approached the final northern bend toward the middle, I kept Smoke close to the outer tree line. It was possible an enemy scout was watching me, but I decided to minimize the risk of being seen.

Roughly fifty paces before the turn opened up to the middle clearing, I jumped to the ground and dismissed Smoke.

Several of my units were in line here and everyone gave a wave and a cheer.

I grimaced. So much for keeping a low profile.

Then I slipped into Shadow Form.

Keeping to just within the trees I continued around the bend and headed east.

The mass of units got more dense as everyone crowded toward the platform, the only river crossing.

As I approached the last few trees before the clearing I could hear the ferocious fighting taking place just ahead. Screams of men dying, horses in pain, arrows zinging about, sword and spears clashing.

But there was another sound, just a short distance past the tree line.

Rushing water.

Carefully, I entered the forest at the western edge of the middle – the pinched waist of the map’s figure eight.

I climbed over bulging roots and ducked under thick branches. Then the trees opened up to the river which flowed from somewhere deeper in the forest to the west and continued on to the middle platform to the east, just beyond my view.

The river was a good twenty paces across here and looked deep. No one was meant to cross it, such was its design.

No army units, anyway.

Using as much available ground as I could, I ran at the water. At the river’s edge, I jumped. I used my Leap ability, which I’d been diligently assigning skill points to over the last few character levels.

These points paid off.

I landed on a massive root on the opposite bank.

Fearing an ambush of some kind, I froze in place, sword at the ready.

The only thing that assaulted me was the sound of the raging river and the cacophony of battle through the trees to the east.

After the count of ten, I moved, quickly and quietly. There was still the possibility of a scout nearby, so stealth was crucial.

Trying to ignore my fighting troops so close by, I headed due north. Something more important needed my immediate attention other than commanding doomed units.

I was going to take Amara’s banner.

I cautiously made my way north, navigating the barrier of trees. It was slow going considering the forest was not meant to be traversed, but it made me relatively confident I would not be detected.

To the east I sometimes caught glimpses of troll units. Enemy units were so bunched up in the middle that they, too, had to line up and wait for their turn.

I kept my focus on the difficult terrain ahead. Jumping from branch to branch, scaling tree trunks, and avoiding impassible clusters of roots took all my concentration.

Soon, I was nearing the final northern turn to Amara’s base, according to my map. The trees were even closer together here, and I decided to leave the forest and follow the tree line the rest of the way. As long as I was careful, I would be able to get close.