Blackout: Book One (A Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Thriller)

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Blackout: Book One (A Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Thriller) Page 32

by Adam Drake


  My elation of being brought back to life morphed into an equally thrilling feeling: accomplishment.

  This was the end of my long quest chain, the final stop. Had the stupid Cyclops not nuked me, I could claim to have finished it all on my own. But who was I to argue with luck? I stepped around the corpse of the Cyclops and stood before the sealed door.

  With an outstretched arm, I placed a hand against the barrier. Having completed all the steps necessary to get here, I was now allowed to pass. The barrier dissolved at my touch. Gears thunked and turned from within. The stone door then slowly opened, sliding to one side and disappearing into the rock itself. A dark passage presented itself.

  Finally, I thought. If nearly being sent to the newbie zone was the cost of getting here, then so be it. Totally worth it.

  I crossed the threshold, then stopped. Something wasn't right.

  I spun around to look back outside at the clearing. Grass and trees swayed with a breeze.

  For long moments, I waited and watched. Nothing changed. Eventually, the corpse of cyclops faded away, the game's way of cleaning house. Bodies of opponents and monsters did not rot as they might in the real world. Of that I was grateful. I'd be responsible for a lot of dead bodies cluttering the ground across the gaming universe. Thousands of them. Tens of thousands, even.

  I shook my head. There was nothing. I was just on edge after having my head crushed.

  I followed the passage deeper.

  It opened up to a large cavern, and I paused, stunned.

  The entire floor was covered in skeletons, more than could be counted. Some were clad in armor while others clasped swords. They formed a macabre carpet of death. And each one held out an arm and pointed with a skeletal hand to the center of the cavern.

  There, upon a rocky rise, stood a banner flag which billowed from an undetectable breeze. A shaft of sunlight fell from a hole in the ceiling to envelope the banner, causing it to emanate with a magical glow.

  The Lost War Banner of Y'Godda.

  “Sweet,” I said, impressed with the ambiance. Talk about a cool room to hold the final quest item. Gotta love it when the developers go the extra mile to make the game feel even more special than it already was.

  A row of skulls formed a pathway through the skeletons from where I stood to the banner. With a quick look around I cautiously walked across it, wary of a trap.

  I crossed and soon stood before the banner. Nothing happened. No traps, no worries. Time to cross off another quest from my quest log.

  I sheathed my sword, grabbed the banner's wooden pole with both hands and pulled.

  Nothing happened.

  Frowning, I pulled again. The banner didn't budge. Not an inch.

  What the heck?

  I looked down to see someone else was also grabbing onto the banner's wooden pole with two hands.

  I gasped in surprise. It was Amara

  She'd dropped out of Shadow form and grabbed the banner the same moment I did.

  “What the heck?” I blurted. Why was she here, and what did she want with the banner?

  Amara's face contorted with anger. “This is mine, FILTERED. Let go of it!” My language filter kept me from hearing the colorful and nasty words some people threw at me.

  Amara tried to pull the banner away, but it held fast, stuck in the rocks.

  “This is not yours,” I said, confused. I tried to pull the banner away from her, but it still didn't budge.

  For a few moments we both feebly tugged at the banner but it did not yield to either of us.

  Frustrated with this nonsense I decided to unsheathe my sword, but was struck with a thought.

  What would happen to the banner when I let it go? Technically, it was the final item to obtain in my quest chain, but could it still be claimed by Amara? She'd grabbed it the exact moment I did, and as a result the game hadn't assigned the item to either one of us, yet.

  “What the heck do you think you're doing?” I said, anger flaring in my chest. “This is my quest item. I earned it.”

  Amara, still holding steadfast to the banner, tried to kick at me with her closest leg. I blocked it with a knee.

  “Open world quest, FILTERED,” she said, almost spitting out the words. “Why should I spend weeks trying to finish a stupid quest chain when I could just wait for an idiot like you to finish it for me?”

  She kicked again, and I blocked it.

  Unfortunately, she was right. This quest was open to anyone, and so its quest items were available to any other player. They didn't need to follow the entire quest to get the reward, they just needed the items.

  This was an item based quest. I needed the Lost Banner to take to the final quest giver to get the reward. But Amara hadn't bothered to do the quest herself, she wanted to steal the final item and claim the quest reward for herself, without doing any of the work.

  Then it hit me.

  “You resurrected me so I'd open the sealed door!” I said, almost shouting.

  Amara laughed, like a witch's cackle. “You dumb FILTERED. Now you figured it out. Well done, FILTERED.”

  She certainly had a potty mouth, and the more we kicked at each other and tried to wrestle the banner free, the more likely I was going to start swearing, too.

  For several moments we kicked at one another, and Amara would punctuate each one with a filtered curse.

  This was ridiculous. The moment either one of us let go of the banner, the game would assign it to the other.

  What could I do? Wait until one of us had kicked the other to death?

  Turned out I did not have to come up with a solution. As chance would have it, the solution presented itself.

  The cavern suddenly brightened, and a large figure materialized next to us.

  Both Amara and I paused in our kickfest to look in amazement at the new arrival.

  A dwarf stood next to the banner, frowning at us. He was clad in heavy white armor. A voluminous red beard hung down to his waist where twin hand axes were tucked into his belt.

  Although surprised at his appearance, it was the name above his head which caused me to gasp in surprise.

  Y'Godda the Warrior King (Spirit)

  “Oh, FILTERED,” said Amara.

  Y'Godda's frown deepened. “What do we have here?” he said, his baritone voice echoing around the chamber. “Two adventurers are trying to claim my banner? Yet, only one may have such an honor.”

  He looked between us. “Who shall it be?”

  Not realizing the spirit was asking rhetorically, Amara blurted out an answer. “Me! It's me that should have it. The honor should be mine.”

  Y'Godda turned to fix his ghostly eyes on me.

  Figuring he wanted an answer, I said, “I have been seeking your banner for a long time, sire. The quest has been difficult and fraught with peril. It was by my hand that the magical seal on the door to this place opened. Only the rightful quester could do that.” I swallowed hard when he didn't immediately respond. “The banner is mine by right.” I finished.

  Y'Godda's eyes bounced between the two of us in contemplation.

  Come on! I wanted to shout. This is my quest, so this is my quest item!

  I scowled at Amara who sneered at me in turn.

  Finally, Y'Godda spoke. “There is only one rightful owner to this banner.”

  Oh, thank the gaming gods, I thought. He was going to let me have it.

  The spirit said, “This banner was meant to rally my troops during times of great strife, and it served me well.”

  Until it got him killed, I thought. According to gaming lore Y'Godda overextended his troops and was overrun by some troll army. Not that I was going to point this out to him now.

  “It was meant to be used in war,” he said.

  Uh-oh, I thought.

  “And therefore, can only be claimed in battle,” he continued.

  Double uh-oh.

  He raised his hands and grinned at us. “If you both wish to make a claim for my banner, then there is
only one way you can earn it.”

  The light in the cavern brightened, and Y'godda seemed to grow in size with his proclamation.

  “You both must go to the Battle Field!”

  The brightness grew until the world around me became a white void. Things were about to change, and in a big way.

  “Oh, FILTERED,” I said.

  CHAPTER TWO

  My view-screen went completely white.

  As I waited impatiently my thoughts went to Amara and what she had done. My anger toward her grew. She had used me to try to obtain the banner. Had she been stalking me, shadowing me while I worked my way through the quest chain?

  Or maybe it was as simple as her waiting outside the sealed cavern until someone came along who had the ability to open it.

  Regardless. Now, because of her, my chance to complete the quest had been delayed, if not outright stolen. Whatever was in store for me, I had to win. I couldn't let that thieving elf get the better of me.

  A system message appeared before my vision.

  Entering Battle Field.

  I grimaced with disappointment. Battle Fields were not my favorite activity in the game. In fact, up until now, I'd never once ventured into one. Delving into the role-playing aspect of this universe was why I played, not for war games.

  The message continued.

  Objective: Retrieve your opponent's banner and bring it to the Battle Field's center platform. The first player to keep their opponent's banner on the platform for five continuous minutes wins.

  Note: Only players can take or return a banner.

  Use resources to build a base to defend your banner. Assemble offensive units to help you capture the opponent's banner.

  A feeling of dread washed over my like ice water. This was something I didn't have any experience with, commanding armies or defending bases. I'd gone through my entire game playing existence as a solo player. Participating in group quests, sure. But actually commanding, or strategizing? Not my style.

  This didn't look good for my prospects of winning. How much experience did Amara have with these?

  If units are eliminated, they can be replaced if you have the resources to do so. If you die, your avatar will be resurrected at your crypt.

  That, at least, was good news and an aspect of the Battle Fields I was aware of. Upon death, you did not get sent to the newbie zone at level one. You could continue on until the battle was finally finished.

  A line up of humanoids appeared before me.

  Choose the race of your army. Each race has advantages and disadvantages, so choose wisely.

  Choose wisely? I thought. I don't even know what I'm doing!

  Sighing, I called up the information on the first race, a troll.

  Tall, green and with long gangly limbs, it certainly wasn't pretty. But was it a good Battle race?

  Race: Troll

  Hit Points: 100

  Speed: 25

  Racial Notes: +10% speed when using mounts. Takes +15% additional damage from fire attacks.

  Worker Notes: +5% to stone gathering.

  Defensive Notes: None.

  Attack Notes: +10% damage when using spears.

  I'll be honest, I didn't quite know what to think of this information. These statistics were an extremely simplified version of what you would see in the gaming universe, itself. But here, in the Battle Fields, many stats were missing, like Intelligence or Strength. Which was fine. These weren't the same kind of Non-Player Characters you would normally find. These were pawns in a game of violent chess. It wasn't the tiny details which would make or break them it was how they were used overall.

  I pulled up the Ogre figure. Tall, wide and brutish, it looked like something I would not want to face while questing, let alone on a battlefield.

  Race: Ogre

  Hit Points: 150

  Speed: 10

  Racial Notes: +15% damage in melee combat. Cannot use mounts of any kind. +15% damage taken by fire attacks.

  Worker Notes: +10% to stone gathering.

  Defensive Notes: +5% damage when close to a Unit Leader.

  Attack notes: +20% damage to walls or other base structures.

  Wow. Ogres, with their bonuses made them the tanks of the battle ground. But their lack of speed, coupled with no mounted units - which meant no cavalry - sucked big time.

  Next was the Goblin race, who looked like a smaller version of the troll, only slightly less hideous.

  Race: Goblin

  Hit Points: 85

  Speed: 25

  Racial Notes: +10% damage bonus when using spears. +15% chance to avoid arrow attacks. +20% damage taken against fire.

  Worker Notes: -5% to stone & wood gathering.

  Defensive Notes: +10% to morale when near another army unit.

  Attacking Notes: +15% speed when using mounts. +5% accuracy with archer ability.

  Small, fast, but with crappy hit points. The hit to the resource gathering was glaring. From what little I knew of Battle Fields, this game was about resources. The more you had the better your ability to create defenses and units.

  I scratched Goblins of my list.

  Next was the elf. Thin to the point of being reed-like, it had long flowing hair and stared pensively into the distance.

  Race: Elf

  Hit Points: 100

  Speed: 25

  Racial Notes: +15% accuracy, +15% speed when using mounts.

  Worker Notes: +10% to wood gathering.

  Defensive Notes: +20% morale when defending the banner. +10% chance to avoid arrow attacks. Cannot use heavy armor.

  Attacking Notes: +15% to accuracy when near a forest tile. +10% damage with archery. Cannot use heavy weapons.

  Light-footed and good with bows. Not surprising. The wood gathering bonus was nice, but the lack of any heavy armored units was a let down.

  The last selection was Human.

  Race: Human

  Hit Points: 100

  Speed: 20

  Racial Notes: +10% damage bonus when using bows. +5 morale boost when near a Unit Leader.

  Worker Notes: +10% to stone gathering. +10% to wood gathering.

  Defensive Notes: +10% morale when defending the banner.

  Attacking Notes: +5% to melee damage. +5% Hit Points to structures. +10% damage taken when attacked by fire.

  Perhaps because my avatar was human, I liked what I saw. The bonus to melee damage and structures looked great. But what really got my attention was the advantages with resources gathering.

  If I was going to flail around trying to learn how to command an army, I needed all the resources I could get (and potentially squander).

  Selecting Human was a no-brainer for me.

  Race selected.

  I wondered which Amara had chosen.

  Then it asked:

  If you would like to send a message to your opponent, do so now.

  Huh, I didn't quite know what to say that didn't involve cursing, so I just sent: That banner is mine!

  Yeah, lame, I know.

  Amara responded with: Eat FILTERED, you FILTERing FILTERED!

  Charming.

  Then my view-screen cleared again, the line of races vanishing. A message appeared which made my heart race with anticipation.

  Prepare For Battle!

  CHAPTER THREE

  You Have Entered The Battle Field.

  The white void which enveloped me dissolved into a picturesque landscape.

  I stood on a grassy plain. The blue sky above was dotted with white puffy clouds. A breeze tugged at my cloak. This was no longer the cavern.

  The plain which stretched off in all directions, was encompassed by a forest, thickly packed with trees almost resembling a green wall. Beyond, on all sides, were high vaulted cliffs.

  The only direction that did not have these imposing cliffs was north. At first glance it appeared the forest thinned out to the northeast and northwest.

  There was another aspect I took immediate note of.

  I
was completely alone. No army, no buildings, no base, no anything. It would appear I would be starting from scratch.

  It was then I noticed I held a wooden pole which was topped with a flowing banner. It looked identical to the Lost War Banner of Y'Godda, only its color was red.

  I looked at my cloak and leather armor. They, too, were the same deep red coloring.

  Guess I'm team red, I thought, glancing around with confusion. But what do I do now? And where was Amara?

 

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