‘Heal!’ My hands are on the back of a man like I'm giving him CPR.

‘Heal!’ He has no legs, bisected at the waist. How are we not all dead?

‘Heal!’ “It's okay I've got this.” A hand on my arm. Looking up to see Dr. Lightbringer on one knee talking to me. “Take the helmet,” he says pointing to the man's head. “Protect your head.”

Putting the helmet on, the medallion slightly swinging around my neck brings up broken images of someone putting it on me as they passed.

Picking up my weapons as I start to rise, a hammer is stopping me from lifting the copied sword. “Leave that!” Looking up to see a dwarf turtled up in armor like a baby juggernaut from Marvel Comics. “Take that one.” He points with his hammer to something black a few steps beyond my reach.

Crawling over, I cringe and cover as horses gallop past me, heedlessly driving into the fray. The riders leap as the horses lose momentum or fall. A wedge of dwarves following in the wake, swinging their hammers like reapers to whatever comes within reach. Two runners, one with a child in his arms, the other with two, emerge from the line heading back past me. I find my will to move again.

Reaching the sword, it is straight and black like dirt, like tools that are Black Oxide. Taking the hilt I feel it groan. It is not evil. It is wicked. Not sentient, but it resists. Not something I want to be touching, but what I want to be using right now.

CRACK…The thin sword reacts again as a hound comes too close for my comfort. The electricity arcing from the tip of the blade, finding ground through its shoulder, the blade tip following the arc through seared meat. Upper cutting the side of its head as I stand, the hilt of the black blade in my fist.

Standing, my breathing is heavy, surveying the scene before me. ‘Heal.’ Amazing how your prayer life increases a hundredfold when you think your life is in danger. I don’t know if Heal did anything or not just now, maybe it's my new war cry.

The front line keeps moving away from me. Arcs of fire are starting to be flung out from behind the palisade in the distance. I see that we have been keeping the horde engaged as it tries to retreat to the city walls. Would this be called a horde if there are no orcs?

M-Trolls are breaking through our ranks. I see a White in the distance with a Goblin Commander over its shoulder shouting commands. Goblins are starting to swarm this area, coming from the side like a small swarm. I square up and set myself to face them. They turn, following the rear edge of the front, looking to flank the front line.

My mind races as I try to think of solutions, what can I do?! Memories of online games and playing WOW. I see fighters around me, spellcasters! Where are the spellcasters?! Where is Reyansh and that Void Mage? I see a few dwarves, but not Bof Bol? There are many fighters from the church, but no Paladin. Images of Charlton Heston in The Ten Commandments parting the Red Sea with a great wind. Elijah calling down fire and consuming up the sacrifice, the wood, the stones, dust, and the water in the trench. The pillar of cloud that went ahead of them by day and a pillar of fire by night to give them light.

Another emerges from the line! Another child is rescued!

The side of the swarm of Goblins moves before me. I set my jaw, my resolve, calling out to God, “Pillar of Cloud! Pillar of Cloud!”

Coming at the Goblins from this side, their attention is focused forward and away from me, looking at the backside of the front line. I cut them down as they run before me, and still, they come. The weight of the atmosphere around me was already heavy with death as I move forward. The Goblins seemed to slow as I increase.

“Pillar of Cloud!” I continued to shout as my breaths grow stronger and more steady. My blades now bisecting through Goblin bone that come into their arc. I continued forward not looking back to any that passed by.

Looking like a B-rated Kung Fu movie my blades find a rhythm of circular arcs, my skills increase, my stances more solid. Goblins can no longer come near me, no matter their numbers. A Pillar of Cloud surrounded by a whirlwind of Blades. The CRACK… of electricity intermittently triggering from the thin blade.

A Wolf Rider passes close, its mount decapitated for its trespass, as I move to focus on the closest Green M-Troll.

It’s slower moving than when I first encountered them on the archery field. I remember the overwhelming force when I was hit by the White. I am not so careless now and I respect its strength. Moving behind, waiting for it to be distracted, I run and latch onto its back as I did before. Securing a hold on one of its straps, sword still in hand, I hack at its neck with the other blade until its head falls like a branch cut from a tree.

Kicking off, I stumble and fall. Trying to roll with the impact, only to face plant in the ground. ‘HEAL!’ I scream as fear overtakes me. Images of being mobbed and piled on as I try to get up.

Turning and spinning, the battle rages but nothing is within ten paces. The next Green is a small parking lot distance away. I dismiss it. It wasn’t the Greens, it was the White. That little shit is looking at me from its shoulder as we lock eyes. We are not close, but the intent between us is enough. He turns the White M-Troll he is riding and it runs.

There is a turn on the battlefield as the Green M-Trolls start swinging at whatever is near. Fiery artilleries shoot out again from behind the palisade sounding like trebuchets as they launch.

“SHIELDS! SHIELDS! SHIELDS!” The battlefield being rocked by explosions as the city is now targeting both friend and foe alike.

A roar rises from the enemy as they realize that there is no longer any retreat. Red standards have been raised above and intermittently across the palisade. Trebuchets sounding, indiscriminately targeting everything outside its walls. The main gate closes again as the White M-Troll enters.

A berserker battle frenzy breaks out as there is now nowhere left for them to run.

“CLEAR! CLEAR! CLEAR!” I start to hear echoing through the chain of command.

Turning, I see through erratic explosions runners carrying children. Comrades disengaging, forming up a controlled retreat. The battle frenzy pursuing but not breaking through.

Explosions continue to sporadically rain down and clear everything where they land. I run through each patch of destruction in the desperate hope that nothing will land there again.

Coming up on the rear of their battle line, the fighting has degraded into a brawl within their ranks. A righteous rage drives me into them, being fueled by the runners I seen rescuing the children. I burn my endurance to feed my rage.

I clash with a humanoid that opposes me. His eyes are fierce as he stands against me. ‘Heal’ I cry, giving him no quarter. I press, burning more endurance. More, I need to be more!

The sounds of battle fall away as their numbers dwindle. We are far enough away that the trebuchets no longer fire at us. Yet this man continues to contend with me. I will not relent.

He is like a wall before me. I do not give him the opportunity or the opening to strike. Continuing to drive him back but always, always, the shield before me that I cannot get past.

I exhaust myself as I continue to hammer out my intent on him. ‘Heal!’ Does not help with the fatigue. I am slowly being surrounded.

Backpedaling I do not let them surround me. CRACK…The thin sword triggers, driving the man to his knees. Seizing the opportunity, I bring the black blade down, seeking the opening between his helm and breastplate.

A sword from the side deflects my blow. My legs insnared, rooted to the ground. My arm entrapped, pressure from the side. My sight grows dim as I catch a glimpse of what’s happening. Shadow Jack…