Chapter 5: The Gathering Storm

0 0 0
                                    

My palms sweat and my fingers twitch, it's like my hands are paralyzed. My eyes dart across the various menus, desperate to find anything that can bail me out of this situation. If I lose to Wayne of all people, I will never be able to call myself the best at board games anymore... actually is that true? I mean we're using holograms and machine-mind interfaces; this is hardly a board game at all, or maybe I'm just splitting hairs.

Wayne's horsemen comb through every inch of the forest but find nothing. I have over a hundred options at my deposal, any kind of warrior you can think of is here. The only limit is my imagination, and of course the setting of the game. Opportunity cost, that's what's holding me back. If I purchase a unit not only do I lose points, but I have to be committed to my choice. If I choose wrong it could cause me the game, but I can't stall forever, and even if I could Wayne would probably get mad a punch me in the face.

"How long are you going to stall?", Wayne asks me.

"How long are you going to flounder?"

"Flounder? You know assassin are notoriously hard to find."

"Yeah, but they can't hide forever, so stop your whining."

"Hmm."

"What is it?"

"I just feel like this is not how the game is intended to be played."

"Why does that matter? The only thing that matters is what the rules of the game allow me to get away with."

"I see. So, this is what Grid was complaining about, you really do exploit the game purpose."

My luck is starting to run out. Eventually he does find an assassin. Then he finds a few more, they numbers are dropping rapidly. They can't even fight back. Those horsemen are very powerful, I need to find something to match that effectiveness. No... that's not good enough, I need something more powerful. I need something totally new. Yes, finally I think I know what it is. I've managed to stall long enough to make up my minds.

When he finds and corners the last of my assassins, the sound of stomping hoofs roars in my brain. The horsemen prepare for one final charge, but they are interrupted by a few stray arrows hitting them. A few of his men even fall over dead.  Instead of being concerned Wayne grins. I see, he's thinking that I'm a fool to recruits more archers after my last batch got slaughtered in an instant.

But unfortunately for him I'm no fool. He orders his men forward to battle his foe. As they charge, they meet my newest addition to my army. A battalion of archers. But these are not normal archers or even elf archers. These are firemen. The launch their great volley before the charge can connect. The arrows explode in spectacular fashion. These arrows are the earliest recorded form of gunpowder weapons. The horses are inflicted with panic, they are no longer responding to Wayne's orders, the battle doesn't last long after that.

"Explain to me how that unit is in anyway fair."

"What do you mean? If it's in the game, then it must be fair."

"Whatever, I still have the rest of your army on the run-", Wayne suddenly collapses.

"Really, just because you're losing, you're gonna-", Before I knew even knew it, I collapsed as well.

"Accept it."

"Accept it."

"Accept it." the voice echoes in my sleepy head.

BLACK STORM: The Abandoned SonWhere stories live. Discover now