Pekram looked at the force that was charging at his men and turned his head to see Dorin doing the same. The red-haired dwarf clan leader nodded; they were both thinking the same thing. Pekram shouted up to Lieutenant Wheelor, “Lieutenant, we must face this head-on. We can’t let them hit the garrison directly. Not that many!”
“You’re right, Senior Sergeant; Mateolex, have Strongst and Shantor stay on line with Breigor and Valkuran. We’ll bowl through these four-armed insects and head off those giants. Watch out for that mountain giant, they are very nimble for their size and are very strong. Dragons forward!” he shouted to ready his four-land-dragon platoon for the attack and to signal the infantry to make breaks in their line to let them through. Pekram and Dorin stepped out and started to move toward the rushing blood-seekers as the four land dragons trotted through the line and began their charge toward the giants.
They fired all four ballistae, which exploded in the midsections of four of the giants. This was immediately followed up with blasts of fire from all four land dragons, which hit those same brutes, slaying all four. Pekram and Dorin moved together and hacked through the rushing blood-seekers on their way to the giants. All the land dragons grabbed a common giant in their jaws as they met. The crews were frantically trying to reload their ballistae, but one giant managed to hit the armored carrier on top of Valkuran, which crushed the side and knocked Bleilou and Knisfran down in the process.
Pekram and Dorin attacked the giant beside Valkuran, and with two well-placed strikes on the giant’s legs, brought him to his knees. The angry common giant made a clumsy swing at Dorin, who just managed to dodge the oversized club. It hit the concrete of the street instead and cracked it. Pekram stepped in and with a powerful downward swing severed the giant’s right arm at the elbow. As the brute reared back, roaring in pain, Dorin threw his mithril ax, which deeply embedded itself in the giant’s protruding forehead killing him instantly. He fell forward at their feet. They looked at each other and smiled for a second but were interrupted by the mountain giant’s huge spiked mace, which hit Pekram full in the chest, sending him flying against the front of the nearest building. The mountain giant’s backswing hit Dorin’s raised shield, but the agile dwarf maneuvered just enough to take only part of the impact on his mithril shield as he rolled away.
The gray-colored giant shoulder-blocked Valkuran, making her stagger to the right to avoid falling over. Just as he raised his mace to strike the land dragon in the head, a sunburst beam hit him in the side, knocking him over. He rose to see Beckann, mounted on Desiran, facing him, her staff glowing with power. His side was smoking and charred from the deadly beam of light, but he raised his hand and cast a lightning bolt at her. He was a rare mountain giant sorcerer but of only moderate magical power. The bolt was absorbed by her shield, as she prepared to cast her next spell.
Pekram got up and shook himself off. His mithril breastplate armor had saved his life, but it was cracked, attesting to the sheer physical strength of the mountain giant. This would not go unanswered, he thought, and ran back toward the large giant now fighting with Beckann. The elf wizard cast a lightning bolt that the giant partially blocked with his mace, but the weapon was severed in the process and the remaining energy hit him in the chest. He fell to his knees, as he was injured, and did not see Pekram come up from his side. Pekram thrust his forty-plus-inch blade into his ribcage and give it a twist that likely severed his heart; the giant finally collapsed. Pekram put his foot on the giant’s side and pulled his sword out, the dark-green blood dripping from the large blade. Just as he made sure the giant was slain, a magic missile hit him in the chest, partially penetrating the cracked armor.
The pain burned deep into his abdomen as he looked to see a Morgathian sorcerer staring at him. He fired another missile, and this one hit him in almost the same place, burning deeper into his diaphragm. Pekram, in a rage, charged the sorcerer, who was about thirty yards away. Beckann could not get a clean shot at the Morgathian, for the company senior weir sergeant was directly between them. Knowing that another magic missile would likely not stop the Alliance fighter, the sorcerer prepared his most deadly spell and cast the dark beam of the death ray at Pekram. If his mithril armor had been intact, the beam would have been deflected, but it found its mark.
Pekram fell at the sorcerer’s feet, which brought a smile to his tanned face; his thin mustache curled with his evil smile at his victory. Pekram stirred and tried to get up, which amazed the Talon apprentice, who prepared a final magic missile to finish his opponent off. A spear then came streaking from overhead and just cut into his right arm, which was holding his staff. This gave Pekram the distraction he needed, and he thrust his sword up into the sorcerer’s stomach. The silvery mithril blade came out his upper back. Gimbelon knew that the sorcerer’s shield would be down when he was casting a new spell and took advantage of it. His aim was off, but it was a seventy-yard throw.
Pekram stared the sorcerer down as the man’s dark eyes gave way in disbelief that a mere fighter could have bested him, an elite magic user, almost a Talon sorcerer, but no matter, and he fell. Pekram withdrew his sword from the sorcerer’s limp body and nodded his head, and stated, “I win you lose,” but then collapsed as well. “Noooooo!” Gimbelon shouted as he rushed to his sergeant’s aid. Beckann cast a stone spell at the remaining giant that wasn’t engaged by the land dragons and the twelve-foot-tall brute started to writhe in agony but was quickly solidified and turned to solid rock. The stunned garrison stood in total silence for a moment at the sight of Pekram falling and then burst into yells and shouts of anger as they slew the last of the blood-seekers and charged the remaining men and orcs of the Morgathian regiment. A fierce hand-to-hand melee broke out, which the Morgathians were ill prepared for. They did not last long against the enraged weir soldiers.
Beckann and Watterseth rushed over to Gimbelon, who was holding Pekram’s lifeless body and crying. It was too late for even the senior cleric to heal the tough fighter; this was the unfortunate effect of death magic. The fact that Pekram could have fought the deadly effect of the spell for as long as he did to slay the sorcerer was amazing, Beckann thought. Dorin’s angered shout was heard as he fought and hacked the Morgathian commander and death knight down as among the last enemy standing.
High above the streets of Atlean, Gallanth’s roar could be heard over all the cries and screams of battle both in the air, on the sea, and throughout the city. This caused a precious few seconds of eerie silence in the immense clash that was underway. This unnatural calm was broken by Gallanth unleashing an intense beam of pure energy at a demon red dragon, along with Mkel’s shout as he saw the image of Pekram falling through Gallanth’s mind from Beckann. He grasped his crossbow tightly, and as he took aim at the demon red, Mkel could feel the incredible righteous anger and sorrow well up from deep inside him as did Gallanth. A power was rising from within their souls, a surge of emotion that morphed into an intense energy that was enveloping them, screaming to come out. Both their muscles tensed and a wave of raw force burst out from Gallanth’s synthensium into a pure beam of energy like that of Michenth’s breath weapon that pulsated with power. It smashed the red dragon’s shield and bore into the crimson hide. Mkel’s bolt started to be enveloped in the red glow of the dragonstone and streaked out at amazing speed, finding its mark on that same chromatic resulting in a horrific explosion.
The combined enhanced strikes from dragon and rider were enough to annihilate the full-powered magic shield and finish the crimson demon dragon, which then started to plummet to the ground. Mkel was overwhelmed by his grief and anger with thoughts of his father and Pekram pounding in his head. A small part of him was amazed, however, at what had just happened with Markthrea and what Gallanth was able to do. He did with his dragonstone weapon what Dekeen could do with Elm; however, this was no consolation for the loss of his longtime friend and military mentor. Pekram had taught him and many other officers and serg
eants what true leaders were, what the true responsibility of leading soldiers was and the importance of selfless service. Pekram was a mountain of a man, gone now at the hands of a cowardly mountain giant and Talon sorcerer.
“Gallanth, we must go to him, go to our weir soldiers and friends,” Mkel said with grief and tears forming in his eyes. The gold dragon did not reply but started to veer toward the city until Jodem flew in close and called over to them.
“Mkel, Gallanth, Pekram is gone. The weir’s soldiers have defeated the Morgathian regiment. We cannot do any more for them, but here there are much more pressing matters. We are still heavily outnumbered and to lose our weir from the aerial fight right now would be devastating to Atlean Weir and the city in general,” Jodem explained to the Weirleaders. This snapped both of them out of their grief and forced them to refocus on the task at hand to defeat the chromatics and Morgathians.
“Jodem is right, my rider. Grief can wait for a while longer, until we exact justice on these evil vermin,” Gallanth spoke up as all the other Draden Weir members flying around the gold dragon were looking at him and Mkel to see what he would say.
“Yes, we must end this fight. Draden Weir, Atlean is still in jeopardy, and for Pekram, these Morgathian and chromatic pogasch deserve infinite justice. We will wheel around and take that group of blue dragons trying to circle to the south of Rapierth’s wing,” Mkel regained his senses as he was forming a quick battle plan in his head, but just then, they heard the warbled roars of two squadrons of talon dragons clumsily flying in from the last row of Morgathian ships now sailing in over the horizon.
“What do we do about them?” Toderan asked out loud.
“They can wait, for they are slow flyers and have no breath weapons. We take out those blue dragons first and then deal with those unholy creations,” Mkel explained as Gallanth turned to intercept the squadron of blue dragons heading toward the Atlean Weir wing, Caraeyeth right behind him and the rest of the Draden Weir council and the rangers’ griffons behind her.
Keisem and Licanth had just teleported in, leading his weir’s dragons to the north of the battle, as Grommel and Zalenth emerged and attacked from the south. Rom and Rem Weirs were now in the fight, and in spite of the small complement of dragons in their squadrons, they attacked with an intense determination. Keisem’s crossbow fired and hit a green dragon that the lightning bolt from his bronze had just struck. The combined explosions literally knocked the green out of his formation. Keisem smiled at the first strike and quickly cocked his crossbow to ready for another fight. Keisem was always of a jovial nature, with ever a smile on his face. Even the sting of battle, did not change his positive demeanor. He had also studied under Jodem for his marksmanship training and was just as proficient.
Grommel led Rem Weir in from the south as both guardian weirs’ dragons attacked the chromatics from two sides. As he and Keisem were accustomed to training and fighting in concert, the double attack was executed flawlessly. The remaining hoard of chromatics was cut apart as the small but fearless twin weir complements tore into the enemy formation. In spite of the guardian weirs having only a dozen dragons a piece, Keisem and his young bronze dragon Licanth were very effective in their deployment with their aggression and exuberance. Colonel Grommel and his bronze dragon Zalenth were very experienced veterans of the Great War and were excellent instructors to his younger charge in the art of war and dragon fighting. The battle for Draconia was now under the firm control of the Alliance.
Hestal’s almost pure white giant eagle flew in beside the avenger dragons that had just put down a mixed wing of chromatics. “Darkenth, gather your brothers and sisters; we must go to Atlean,” the apex master wizard spoke out to the lead avenger dragon.
“Master Wizard Hestal, there are still chromatics here that need slain,” the impetuous avenger replied.
“The two Capital Wings and twin weirs can handle what is left, but Atlean is in need of reinforcement, and we are the only ones who can answer at this time,” Hestal replied; as he raised his staff, the diamond dragonstone started to scintillate.
“But, Master Wizard, did we do well here?” the young brown metallic dragon asked, almost like a child needing the approval of a parent.
“My dear Darkenth, you and your siblings performed better than we could have ever imagined. This is why we need you to come with us now. There are much greater odds against Atlean Weir, and we must help them. Valianth and Gallanth even need your help,” Hestal replied as his staff emanated more light. The five avenger dragons moved in as close as they could to the wizard’s eagle, with almost what could be considered smiles on their large faces. Hestal couldn’t help but smile back at the young dragons’ enthusiasm and almost childlike response. He was indeed proud of these young hybrid dragons he had helped create, and in a quick flash, they were gone.
They emerged over Atlean Weir to see the incredible battle underway, much larger than the one they had just left. Hestal knew his staff would take a few minutes to recharge itself after such a large mass teleportation. Darkenth roared the avengers’ presence and challenge, which was echoed by the other four brown dragons. Gallanth and the Capital Weir and Atlean Wings looked over and acknowledged their presence. In a quick mental communication, they expressed their gratitude for arriving. Valianth quickly gave them instructions, “It is good to see you, my young friends, but we are heavily outnumbered. There are three squadrons of talon dragons flying in from the sea. Hit them head-on and leave none without justice,” he told them.
Darkenth acknowledged the command, roared another challenge, and led the other four toward the harbor to intercept the vicious-looking chromatic aberrations.
Dreadstone and Doomshadow were slowly flying over the harbor of Atlean watching the battle as they directed the three squadrons of Talon dragons to move in and attack the Atlean Weir Wing. They then heard a commotion from the rear echelon of their fleet’s ships. As they turned toward the northwest, three white ships appeared on the horizon. “Hah, three ships is what the mighty Alliance Navy sends to defend their second largest city. It won’t take but a moment for our armada to dispatch them.”
“Wait, Sorcerer, there is something different about those ships,” the Usurper black dragon stated as he veered around to get a closer look at the Alliance warships almost foolhardily bearing down on the Morgathian armada. As they grew closer to the Alliance vessels, they noticed several things unusual about them. They were massive, almost nine hundred feet long, and were not made of wood, but rather a strange-looking ice material. As they sailed to within a mile of the Morgathian fleet, they started to fire huge, smooth boulder projectiles as well as flaming canisters from their front six long-arm catapults. Six of the eighteen three-hundred-pound boulders smashed right through the Morgathian warships they struck, and they almost immediately started to sink.
“By Tiamat, I can’t believe the range of those ice ships’ catapults, and their size. How did they construct such huge vessels?” Dreadstone asked Doomshadow.
“I don’t know, but if they are made of ice, then we should show them a little dragons’ fire. Havocfire, take one of your squadrons and destroy those large ice ships,” Doomshadow ordered the lead dragon of his and Reigngrim’s provinces’ chromatic squadrons.
“Yes, Lord Usurper Doomshadow,” the demon red dragon replied. Even though Havocfire was a red dragon, and a demon red dragon at that, he still had to pay homage to a member of Tiamat’s Usurper court. In a contest between the two, it would be a tough fight, for even though Havocfire was larger and stronger and was a demon type, all of the five Usurper dragons possessed a greater power as a reward from Tiamat for being the most dominant of their species. The large red dragon then roared over to one of his province’s mixed squadrons of chromatics and led them toward the harbor.
“Wait! What trickery is this? A strange type of metallic dragon! It looks like we were not the only ones to create a
new dragon species,” Doomshadow said in his raspy, jagged voice in reference to the five avenger dragons that were moving to intercept the three squadrons of their talon dragons.
“Our talon dragons will rip them apart and then proceed on to their hateful metallic kin,” Dreadstone added as he had had a major hand in the breeding of the talon dragons, almost adding a viciousness and cruelty to match his own during the creation process.
“Admiral, look toward the northwest! The ice ships have arrived! They must have been well ahead of schedule,” the captain of the lead Alliance Atlean fleet galley almost shouted out to the fleet commander. “Wait! That red dragon is leading a squadron of chromatics to attack them,” he added, very concerned.
“Captain, don’t worry about the ice ships; the chromatics are in for a surprise, but now that those capital ships are here, we need to shift our tactics to harassment versus direct engagement. We need not sacrifice ourselves and our sailors now; thank the Creator. Do not ram but rather fast engage with fires and quick maneuver. The Morgathians will focus on the ice ships now, and we need to keep whittling them down from the back. Gentlemen, you will now see the power of the Alliance’s newest warships, the Bastion, the Invincible, and the Hammer of Light,” he proudly listed the names of the three ice ships. Just then, five more Morgathian vessels were struck by the devastating three-hundred-pound catapult stones from the capital ships’ long-range catapults, and a sixth was struck by a three-hundred-pound dragons’ fire canister. The barrel-sized round container broke open on impact and immediately engulfed the whole back half of the ship in flames.
Havocfire started to lead his chromatics in a dive attack on the nearest ice ship, the Bastion. Even before they were within their breath-weapon range, the ship’s dozens of large ballistae and hundreds of archers and crossbowmen started to fire. The chromatics flew into a wall of arrows and immense ballista spears. The largest ballistae of the ice ships were two to three times the size of the ones used by the land dragon crews and fired a projectile that was ten feet long and the thickness of a small tree. They were mostly dragons’ fire-tipped, but against a chromatic threat were mixed with well oversized tri-bladed tips. Under this intense barrage, the magic shields of the chromatics were quickly being worn away, but they still managed to unleash their breath weapons on the side and deck of the Bastion.
Dragon Alliance Dark Storm : Dark Storm Page 55
