The projected images emerged above the parade field, as the first two knights readied themselves at the ends of the dividing rail. The announcing bard opened with the names and standard for the representatives of Lancastra Weir and the 4th Legion. Both had their lances raised with their colored standards fluttering in the light breeze. The drums started to roll as the official raised his short spear with a red flag. As the drum roll heightened, he lowered the flag and the knights began their charge.
Their armored horses galloped up to speed as both steadied their lances and positioned their shields, timing their actions with the horses’ movements while looking for an opening in their opponent’s stance. The Lancastra knight’s silvery shield with its three reed leaf symbol of his weir stood out in sharp green contrast to his armor. The 4th Legion knight’s white diamond-shaped shield standard, with four oak leaves, one in each corner, faced the weir paladin’s charge. The cross-leaf pattern of this legion was created in honor of Eladra, who saved it from a chromatic attack during the Great War. Their lances connected with each other’s shields midway between the ends of the rail that divided them. Both paladins were pushed back from the impact as the lances splintered. That round was a draw, and each knight was given a new lance by his apprentice and readied for his second of three tries.
The officiator lowered the red banner, and the two began their charge again. This time, as the paladins met lances, the 4th Legion’s knight had a slightly better aim and unsettled the weir knight but did not knock him off the horse. The third and final run resulted in a tie. The judges awarded the win to the legion knight for one better hit, and the crowd applauded. The images projected by the wizards’ dragonstones then shifted to the sword competition. Swierchaej of Draden Weir was first to compete; he was facing a renowned swordsman from the 36th Legion from the desert plains oasis city of Savegsol, between Lancastra and Eladran Weirs in the southern midpoint of the Alliance. The 36th was a fierce competitor with Draden for both sword and archery competitions.
Within the circle, Swierchaej and the legion soldier were separated by the officiator. When he signaled, they began to fight. The legionnaire came out strong and fast with an overhead thrust of his heavy wooden core sword overlaid with elven hard sap to make it softer for striking but still firm in its hit. Swierchaej parried the blow and swung around in a quick circle aiming for his larger opponent’s midsection; he barely blocked it in time. The Draden Weir soldier then maneuvered to the left and swung left again, attempting to keep his opponent off balance. The legionnaire glanced off the double swing and tried a short thrust at Swierchaej’s head, which he ducked and went to his knees just as the wooden sword grazed the top of his helmet. He then thrust up, catching his opponent in the upper abdomen with the tip of his sword. The thrust made the 36th Legion soldier back up a couple of steps and seemed to knock the wind out of him.
The judge raised a red flag giving Swierchaej a vitals hit. He then immediately lunged toward him with an overhand strike but aimed it high on purpose. The blow was parried, but he twisted left and whirled around to give his larger opponent a moving target and swung his sword in a downward and then upward angle hitting him in the side of the chest. The second flag was then raised, and a trumpet sounded signaling the end of the match. He had delivered a second killing blow, winning that round. The judge walked out and raised Swierchaej’s hand in victory.
“I see our young soldier did listen to you after all and relied on his mind and agility rather than just the strength in his arms, my rider,” Gallanth complimented Mkel.
“Yes, he did very well. I hope he can keep that up for our next battle,” he answered.
“Excellent swordsmanship; if he can maintain that, he’ll win this tournament!” Toderan exclaimed.
“Look, our little black sheep Gimbelon is casting his first spear toss,” Jodem commented as the projected image to the left switched to the spear-throwing competition. The slender young weir soldier stood at the line with his short throwing spear ready. The competitors would throw one at a time in succession at a six-foot-diameter straw circular mat with a painted cloth that had five concentric colored target rings drawn on it. The spear competition started at fifteen yards and then went back five yards after each round to finish at seventy-five yards. Gimbelon’s turn came, and he choked up on the spear, held it up, and steadied to the target. He took three steps and hurled the spear. It embedded itself just on the inside right edge of the center circle, which was just under a foot in diameter.
“An excellent throw!” Mkel exclaimed out loud. “He had good follow-through as well. I see that he does listen.”
“You could have fooled me, but I do know he is good in a pinch, and the younger soldiers do look up to him,” Toderan added. “We will need all our best soldiers if we face the fire giants. Now it’s time for ale.”
“Isn’t it a little early, Weir Sergeant?” Jodem asked.
“It is noon back in Draden.” He smiled as he signaled to one of the servers to get him a tankard.
“And it’s last night in Freiland, I’ll have one too,” Lawrent added with a smile. The two big men could drink large quantities of ale without getting overly inebriated, even though that was the normal end state. The rest of the morning went quickly; they alternated between watching the three events and the Keystone Weir competitors’ progress. Mkel walked back into the weir before the noon meal to run around the immense interior lake. Jodem told him not to shoot or dry fire that day, but just to keep limber. After he ran, exercised, and bathed, he then walked back up to the landing were Gallanth and his weirmates were still watching the games. He decided to partake and grabbed an ale but would limit himself prior to the dragonstone archery event. The kitchen staff and halflings were bringing out the noon meal on several platters carried on carts.
The last of the semifinal rounds of the joust was about to begin. Robouch had made it this far but drew the lot to go against the top Eladran Weir knight. He was very talented, and only Toderan, Lenor, and a couple of knights from the cavalry legion had ever bested him.
“This will be interesting,” Toderan said out loud as he took a drink from his tankard. Robouch and the Eladran paladin were lining up at the opposite ends of the dividing rail. The bright-green oak leaf with two crossed arrows on the paladin’s shield, the symbol of the Eladran Weir, shone brightly in the midday sun and was a unique contrast to the red keystone with the gold dragon head embossed on Robouch’s shield.
As the officiator lowered his draped staff, the two knights began their charge. The crowd, including all in the dragon alcoves, quieted to watch the images projected above the grounds. As their lances struck home, both splintered. Robouch had hit his opponent on the upper left of his shield, but the Eladran knight’s strike was more solid, knocking Robouch’s shield from his hand. The round went to the Eladran.
“Close run. That Eladran paladin has a very good arm and a good aim with that lance,” Jodem commented. The next round ended in a tie with both blocking the other’s lances off of their shields. The final round started as they both spurred their horses forward, after the officiator announced that the winner would be facing the cavalry legion’s knight in the final round with the other to joust against the Battle Point legion paladin. They both then charged with a fierce sense of determination. As their lances struck home, the Eladran paladin had just the right angle to deflect off of Robouch’s shield and struck him in the side of his helmet almost knocking him off his horse. Robouch did not fall but was stunned. The officiator gave the flag to Eladran, which put Robouch in the qualifying round to compete for third place.
Mkel could see through Gallanth’s eyes that Robouch was angry, but as a true honorable paladin, he galloped his horse over to shake the Eladran knight’s hand. In the first round of the semifinal match, Robouch knocked the Battle Point knight off his horse.
“I can see Robouch was a little upset,” Toderan commented
. “Getting the copper triangle of third place is still a good showing for his first time in the joust competition though.” The final match was very close, but the Eladran knight won the last round to win the overall competition.
Gimbelon threw his last spear at the seventy-five-yard target. It sailed through the air and hit the target just slightly low and right for three points. At the longer distances, he was at slight disadvantage against the larger, more heavily muscled competitors, but his technique allowed him to maximize the power and distance he could muster. “A three, that should give him second place, impressive for the lad!” Jodem exclaimed.
“Yes, that’ll give him a little more confidence now, and we can give him the responsibility to teach the other soldiers some of his skills,” said Mkel. Swierchaej had made it to the final round and was fighting a soldier from 3rd Legion. His opponent wore his legion’s standard, the white square with three red stripes symbolizing the legion’s motto of “the blood rock” on his chest in an intimidating fashion. The match went back and forth until the final round when Swierchaej, using his opponent’s larger size to his advantage, moved quickly in close with a faint thrust and then darted back just dodging his swing. He then jumped up, spun around with a downward thrust, and struck the 3rd Legion soldier’s shoulder. This gave him the final point he needed, and he was declared the winner.
“Yeahhhhh, that son of a serpent did it!” Toderan shouted in a rare outburst of emotion.
“Your swordsman fought well, Dragonrider… although his fighting techniques look very familiar,” Ordin commented referring to Swierchaej’s swordsmanship style, which very much resembled the way Mkel fought with Kershan.
“He fought like a raider; maybe we should initiate him when we get back to the weir,” Lawrent interjected.
“To what? Teach him to be an undisciplined brawler?” Toderan countered to tease him, the ale apparently starting to take effect.
“Well, Weir Sergeant, at least my men are trained to fight on their own, and as berserkers, they are each worth at least five Alliance soldiers in a tough scrap,” he shot back to the senior paladin with his normal wide, toothy grin under his reddish-blond mustache.
“Anytime you want to cross swords, my good pirate,” Toderan forced a subtle challenge.
“How about we cross tankards first,” Lawrent answered as he raised his oversized mug. Toderan, with a half smile accented by the slight curvature of his brown mustache, raised his as well and crashed it into the raider’s, and then they both drained the contents and slammed them on the table, simultaneously calling for another pitcher.
Mkel thought to himself, what an interesting match that would be.
The awards ceremony would soon begin, and the grounds crews started to set up the tiered stage.
Once the champion’s platform was erected, the tournament winners were gathered as the musicians played a congratulatory trumpet and drum salute. The cheers and applause for the champions from the crowds was evidence that they had enjoyed the competitions. Canjon and Amerenth walked over to the platform along with Colonel Therosvet and General Becknor. Several other dignitaries were also present. The first-, second-, and third-place winners of each of the three events were escorted to the base of the platform by the Draco Guards and stood facing the crowds in the seats.
Amerenth then raised his head and called in the loudest voice he could muster to quiet the crowds, as General Becknor and Canjon walked up on the raised portion of the platform. “Ladies, Gentlemen, and all friends of the Alliance, we would now like to recognize the outstanding athletes of the competitions today. Champions of the spear, please step forward,” Canjon announced as Gimbelon and the other two place winners stepped up onto the raised platform where they stood under the lighted triumph arch beside the brass dragon and dignitaries.
General Becknor spoke next. “Gentleman, please take your places,” he said as they moved to their respective places on the platform under the lighted image of their legion or weir’s standard projected by Canjon’s sword’s dragonstone. The standards glowed brightly, the three-leaf plant over reeds on a white shield of the Lancastra Weir, the red keystone shield with a gold dragon embossment of Draden Weir, and the two white crossed spears over a blue shield of the 10th Legion, all in the order of the performance. Canjon handed the bronze triangle pendant to General Becknor for the third-place winner, who then draped it over the 10th Legion soldier’s head. Gimbelon received his silver triangle with the all-seeing eye carved onto the medal’s face. The tall, slender soldier smiled, almost giddy with the excitement of his accomplishment, and gleefully accepted his medallion. The Draden Weir crew shouted for their young comrade. The gold-plated triangle medallion was then placed over the Lancastra Weir legionnaire as Canjon pronounced his name to the crowd, after which, applause erupted for all three.
After the spectators’ cheers and the dragons’ roars died down, Amerenth, the dragonriders, and the generals directed the awardees to move off the platform and started to announce the winners of the non-dragonstone sword competition. The three soldiers exchanged positions with the spear competitors and assumed their places. The projected banners changed to the images of Draden Weir’s standard first, then the white shield with three red stripes of the 3rd Legion next, and the green shield and vertical red sword of the 1st Legion after that. Canjon announced the names of the place winners, as General Daddonan and General Frankrest presented the medals. When they placed the gold triangle over Swierchaej’s head, Lawrent began to shout, along with Ordin, and they were soon echoed by all on the Draden Weir alcove, including Gallanth and the other competitors from the weir. This was a major upset, and Swierchaej will be rewarded, Mkel thought to himself.
The final awardees of the jousting competition were then called up to the arch. Mkel looked through Markthrea’s sight to see Robouch’s expression. It was one of both pride and consternation; he knew he really wanted to prove himself. He would have to talk to him later and have Lenor or Toderan follow up. He had performed admirably for his first attempt at the games and in a heavily contested event as well. The Draden Weir standard switched to third place, the yellow shield with a black horse over a lance of the cavalry legion was in second, and then the gold shield with its green oak leaf and cross arrows, the standard of Eladran Weir, appeared in the first place position. Robouch was given his bronze triangle medal followed by the knights of the legion and Eladran Weir. With the closeness of the joust and the popularity of this event, after the gold triangle was awarded, the whole arena erupted in applause. Talonth gave the loudest roar of all to express his pride in the knight of his weir.
This ended the first day of the games; the celebrations began shortly afterward. Mkel and his crew retired from the alcove to the interior of the weir to await their competitors. There would be a gathering later back on the landing, since the evening was very pleasant. Mkel, Gallanth, Jodem, and Toderan would be talking to their soldiers who were to compete the next day in the non-dragonstone archery, land dragon, aerial joust, and hand-to-hand competitions. The weir did not enter a contestant in the horse race, leaving that to the legions and some of the other weirs.
After a short time, Toderan had gathered all the weir’s soldiers who would be competing the next day, as well as Robouch, Swierchaej, and Gimbelon. All were ushered back up the long staircase to Gallanth’s alcove and were assembled around the gold dragon as the weir’s kitchen personnel and halflings were getting the evening meal ready. He had to give Colonel Therosvet credit, the dinner spread he had arranged for all the weirs’ dragons, riders, and staff was of high quality. All of the assigned workers, hired help, and halflings were also very professional, but with the size of the Capital Weir, they also had to be well organized.
“Gimbelon, Robouch, Swierchaej, come over here!” Mkel called over to the three as they walked up to the alcove from the level below that had the lift from the weir landing floor. “Congratulati
ons to you all. The leadership and especially Gallanth wanted to tell you how very proud we are of your efforts and accomplishments,” Mkel continued as he complimented the trio.
“Yes, Gentlemen, you should all be very proud of yourselves, as the weir is proud of you. You all distinguished yourselves today in friendly competition and improved your skills for battle. Most important, though, you all did your best and were true to yourselves,” the gold dragon praised the three. They all stood in awe at his words and their delivery.
“I owe you all a drink in a couple of minutes, but now, to our competitors for tomorrow. Poteignr, Crystinj, Terrenj, Lieutenant Wheelor and your crews, and of course our favorite paladin, Senior Sergeant Toderan, please gather around Gallanth. We all enjoyed seeing our friends compete and do well today. All their efforts and training paid great dividends, as I know they will for those of you competing tomorrow. I want to give you my best wishes for success, and I know Gallanth will give you the luck blessing. Poteignr, Crystinj, I will talk to you afterward. Lieutenant Wheelor and crews, I have faith in your abilities, especially you Amman—just shoot straight,” he said with a smile. “Sergeant Bleilou, Sergeant Mateolex, keeps them coordinated, and Raybraun, Prescan, Haak, Torcelst, trust each other and trust Strongst and Shantor. They are among the best land dragons in the Alliance.”
“Yes, my friends, trust in your mounts, and may the luck of the dragons be with you,” Gallanth said over all gathered as his eyes flashed, which caused everyone close to him to be bathed in a faint golden light. The soldiers were stunned for a split second and then looked at each other as if they had been given an instant awakening.
“Now, please, all of you, eat, for I am very hungry and cannot feast until you have eaten,” Jodem interjected and ushered all of them to the tables, which were now filled with an assortment of foods and various types of drink. The conversation picked up as the weir crew started to move to the tables and began to eat.
Dragon Alliance Dark Storm : Dark Storm Page 12
