Our line came to a sudden halt. Movement and singing both stopped.

  The Game had answered my silent prayers when I saw the BATTLEGROUND interface. This was exactly what we needed. I mentally hit the button for Battleground Leader. That gave me the power to assign people to groups. The interface had ten groups of ten slots each. And I could see where people were and what their class and level they were on the map. That was the biggest help.

  First, I moved the Shadow’s Sneak and Peek Squad, their Healer and the two leftmost shield men into one group. Gar-Kosh, Bhaarrt and Sir Andrew all got their own group, and I quickly added the healers and DPS, who were behind them, to their groups. After that, scattering healers and ranged DPS behind their shieldwall was fairly quick. I wasn’t trying to max out groups.

  Finally, I moved the snipers and TV people on the roof to their own group, with PokerRun as their group leader. Mostly, I was trying to get people near each other and the people they logically went together with. Even with the urgency hanging over us like a storm cloud, a few people muttered thanks or nodded at the clarity. They were small moments of relief at a time none of us could afford to relax.

  [William of Brinsford:] [BATTLEGROUND] [Everyone! We’re in a PvP, Player versus Player battleground. Check your Game Interface for your BATTLEGROUND MAP and Groups. I’ve moved people into groups. Healers in all groups but one. Move around as needed to stay with your group. The people on the roof shouldn’t need a Healer, and they’re too far away for Healers on the ground to reach them.]

  A ripple of motion passed through our lines as people shifted, glancing at the interface, calling softly to teammates, double checking their gear. Nervous shuffling mixed with forced calm.

  [William of Brinsford:] [BATTLEGROUND] [Healers! Pay attention first to the people in your group. Heal them first. Tank groups. Heal Over Time tanks when they CHARGE. Heal others as needed. Tanks above 90%, leave them alone. Over half dead, fast heal them. Those who have batteries, save them for when you go OOM. That’s Out Of MANA.]

  Someone laughed loudly at the acronym, more tension relief than humor.

  [William of Brinsford:] [BATTLEGROUND] [Sneak and Peek Squad, if the squad gets out of range, shields and healers follow them and stay protected. Shields protect your Healers.] I added a close-by second healer to their group. They were another Level One.

  [William of Brinsford:] [BATTLEGROUND] [Everyone, shift now to be near your group. Direct Game Chat me or the Lead in your group with questions. Unless you need help, shut up. Keep battleground chat to a minimum.]

  [William of Brinsford:] [Jack Brown] [Chief. One minute to show time unless they attack, then you’re on. My shields are on you now.] I cast a PSYCHIC SHIELD on him first and a 20-point MANA SHIELD in front of that five seconds later.

  [William of Brinsford:] [BATTLEGROUND] [You have an R next to your name. That means Ready. If you are in position and ready, hit it. We go in about 1 minute, ready or not.]

  People looked at each other and at the line across from us. Some faces were pale. Some eyes burned with barely contained anger. The tension thickened. There was no more joking, no more fidgeting. Fingers twitched on triggers. Spells hovered on the edge of casting. The letter R's started showing up on the map.

  Quickly looking at the people on the far side of our line watching us, I had to decide, protect them or not? “Can we afford to shield them?”

  The first Battle of Bull Run flashed into memory. It had watchers just like these people. The armies back then didn’t do anything for them and we really couldn’t afford the MANA. We needed it to protect us. “They’re on their own.”

  The other side was still a loose scattering of people around one man who was shouting and gesturing. Granombre? A few of their people were glancing nervously toward us. Others looked blank, or worse…eager. A few even grinned like they thought this was a game they’d already won.

  Then I saw them herding people out in front in a long line. Zip tied hands. Hostages. Some were crying. One man fell to his knees and was kicked forward.

  [William of Brinsford:] [BATTLEGROUND] [Looks like they have a human shield line. That’s a problem. Don’t let them provoke you. Area casts go behind their line so you don’t hit hostages. Do not shoot until told to whatever happens. Do not shoot the hostages. Kill anyone trying to hurt or kill hostages. Heal any hostages in range who need it.]

  Looking across the line, I saw Blaze' face tense up. Bhaarrt clenched his fist around the haft of his maul. The whole front line visibly stiffened. Angry murmurs passed from one cluster of fighters to another.

  [William of Brinsford:] [Jack Brown] [Chief. It’s time. Do what you think is right except letting them win.]

  [Jack Brown:] [William of Brinsford] [I can’t let them kill hostages. I can’t let you kill them, either. We don’t have a choice.]

  [William of Brinsford:] [Jack Brown] [We do Chief. Got an idea. Same start as before. Prove they can’t hurt us. Tell them to release the hostages and surrender because we can hurt them. If they shoot, we heal and hit them at the same time. We gotta take the chance. We don’t have time to wait them out.]

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  [Jack Brown:] [William of Brinsford] [I know. Can’t give in. Can’t wait. Can’t let them die. You sure this crazy scheme of yours will work?]

  [William of Brinsford:] [Jack Brown] [No. I’m not sure. But I’ll bet my life on it and you. There’s a lot of people here who will as well. Lok-tar ogar. Victory or death. Make it just Lok-tar. Victory. Nothing else.]

  [William of Brinsford:] [Jack Brown] [The world has changed. We can’t go back. Only forward. Win or die? Do we win or do we die? You’re the man in charge.]

  [Jack Brown:] [William of Brinsford] [Damn you to hell you bastard. I don’t want to be the man who got innocent hostages killed. And damn you for being right. If you tell them to fire, they’ll follow you, not me. You’re the Warchief.]

  He slumped, his shoulders sagging for just a heartbeat. The people closest to him looked confused, worried. I caught someone whispering “Why hasn’t he done anything?” The mood was starting to wobble. “Unless we do something, some of them will break and run.”

  [William of Brinsford:] [Jack Brown] [It is your choice. Tell us what to do. I’ll back whatever you say. Just do it fast before my shields on you drop off.]

  [Jack Brown:] [William of Brinsford] [Bastard. Fucking bastard. Going out.] I saw him tap the policemen with shields in front of him and they made room.

  Our force’s breath caught and held across our entire line as he stepped out. Just one man, striding into a nightmare, maybe death.

  Stopping a yard in front of the line, he shouted, “I’m Chief Jackson Brown. Eddington Chief of Police. I’m asking you to release your hostages and put your weapons down and go home. You can’t win, and I don’t want anyone to die. Not even you.” He stopped, then I heard him laugh.

  “All of you together can’t even kill me. How do you think you can win against all of us? Now put down your weapons, release your hostages and we won’t hurt you.” Then he turned his back on them.

  Gasps came from our side. Even some of the enemy flinched or hesitated. I saw someone lower a rifle. Another shouted at them to raise it again.

  “Kill the motherfucker!” I heard Granombre scream.

  [William of Brinsford:] [BATTLEGROUND] [Smoke then shields!]

  The smokescreen erupted out of the ground a half a second later. It was a thick wall of charcoal gray mist cutting off the view of the other line. Shouts and curses came from the other side as our mages cast their shields in defense, walling off the line. Fire, ice, stone, vines, and wood all followed the Chief’s retreat.

  Gunfire cracked like firecrackers on the Fourth of July, loud but increasingly frantic.

  Bullets punched through the smoke, then into the mage shields, weakening but not breaking through. A few that got through thudded off our shield wall and fell uselessly to the ground.

  They had a few heavier rifles and semi-automatic AR-15 types. Nothing they fired sounded like full auto. Some of our mages' shields went down, but they kept putting them up again. Even with a quick 50-point boost, my shield failed as well under their massed fire.

  My shield took hit after hit…then cracked and broke just as Jack passed the shieldwall. I saw him jerk once, maybe twice, and someone screamed his name.

  [William of Brinsford:] [BATTLEGROUND] [Stop shielding. Save your Mana.]

  [William of Brinsford:] [Jack Brown] [You OK?]

  It took him a few seconds before he turned and stared at me.

  [Jack Brown:] [William of Brinsford] [Damn you! That was scary. I’m fine. Got hit a couple of times, but nothing got through. Just spent rounds. Your shields and my vest held. I may not even bruise. I felt the healing spells. I can’t believe I did that. Pozarkova’s got more guts than me. Don’t think I could have faced it. They must have unloaded everything they had at me.]

  Laughter, nervous and relieved bubbled up from behind our line. A few people even whooped. The tension didn’t vanish, but it lightened, like we’d survived the first swing of the headman’s axe.

  [William of Brinsford:] [Jack Brown] [I hope so. Sounded like it. At least now they have to reload. Go show yourself and make them so mad they get more stupid.]

  All the shields were down now. The gangs had a clear line of sight as he started moving.

  Nodding to me, he turned and pushed past two officers, stepping out again, but just a step, maybe two this time. Just enough for them to see him turn and face our line. Everyone behind him tensed in unison, shields tightening, weapons, and spells ready.

  [William of Brinsford:] [BATTLEGROUND] [We got through round one. Good work. Relax and let your Mana recover. We won’t have time to fully recover, but they don’t know that. That smoke screen helped a lot. Good work. Get ready to do it again.]

  Chief Brown had waited until I sent the message before speaking.

  “Thank you. All of you who shielded or healed. Agent Pozarkova, Blaze. I’m not sure I could have stood there and faced those shots like you did. Now that they’ve fired first, we can return fire as long as we don’t hit the hostages.”

  Turning toward the enemy line, he continued. “I’m still here and unhurt. I told you; you bastards couldn’t hurt me. We can do this all day long until you run out of ammo. Looks like some of you didn’t bring much with you. Put down your weapons and let your hostages go free.”

  A shot rang out. The round struck my shield on him and stopped cold an inch from his chest. Gasps again. My heart clenched. Then I recast PSYCHIC SHIELD.

  He planted his fists on his hips. “I said if you shoot again, you’ll find out what we can do. Can you kill us? I know you can’t. Can we kill you? I know we can.”

  He raised a clenched fist high. “Now you’re going to find out the hard way. Lok’tar ogar!” he shouted, pumping his fist.

  “Lok’tar ogar!” the cry came back from out people.

  “Lok’tar ogar!” he shouted again, this time with his raw anger powering it.

  “Lok’tar ogar!” we screamed back! This time with fists, swords, spears, and magic swirling in hands, ready to be launched. It looked like some of the watchers on the far side were shouting it too. I saw some fists, and phones, going up and down.

  The cheer became a chant, a roar that pushed fear to the edge, then over it.

  We followed him, adding fists or hands and weapons in the air, shouting “Lok’tar ogar!”

  Jack stopped, turned to look at us as we quieted down, then turned back to face them again.

  “That means victory or death. Your death.” He didn’t shout, but we could see they heard us by their reactions.

  This time, when he stepped behind the wall, he drew his sidearm. “Warchief!” he called, clear and strong. “The fight is yours. Save the hostages and win!”

  We roared back in return, “Lok-tar Ogar!”

  Pennsic War 50 Field Battle

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