Dragon Alliance: Rise Against Shadow

by J. Michael Fluck

  In the meantime, three common giants emerged from around the small hill on the left side of the shallow valley behind the camp. When they saw Ordin, they shouted something in their crude simplistic language and raised their huge clubs as they rapidly moved toward him. Ordin smiled, raised his thunder hammer, Donnac, and hurled it at the lead giant. The powerful double-headed hammer whirled end over end, with its ruby dragonstone glowing and crackling with energy, as it sped toward the giant. The large brute did not think of it as a threat and kept advancing toward the brown-bearded dwarf. The hammer struck the giant square in the chest, with a loud thunderous clap, knocking the fourteen-foot-tall, two-and-a-half-thousand-pound creature off its feet. It gasped, as it slammed on its back in a muffled thud. The hammer flew back in a wide arc to Ordin’s outstretched hand.

  The giant that was hit was not killed but must have had several broken ribs and likely a crushed diaphragm, for it was barely able to roll over and get to its knees. The other two did not even acknowledge their companion’s plight and continued to advance on Toderan, Lupek, and Tegent. Toderan faced off the giant on the right and drew his holy sword while firming his grip on his mithril shield. Lupek raised his javelin and threw it at the giant that was rapidly bearing down on them from the left. The lightning javelin streaked through the air and easily pierced the giant’s hide armor on the right shoulder, with the electrical energy blast spinning it around and bringing it down to one knee. Tegent fired two arrows in rapid succession, one hitting it the stomach and the other in its back, as it was twirled around by Lupek’s javelin.

  Toderan moved toward the third giant as it raised its five-foot-long club and swung at the knight. The paladin ducked and raised his shield, making the club only score a glancing blow. Even with that, the burly paladin was pushed back a step but quickly recovered with a downward thrust of his long sword that sliced through the giant’s hide armor and cut into its side, transferring the energy of the sword into the brute. It winced at the blow, which left a nasty and deep gash in its side. The giant had received wounds from a long sword before, but never like this, as the pain from the gash was intense.

  As it raised its club again, Toderan moved in and struck the giant’s right leg with his blade, cutting the thigh to the bone. The giant crumpled but did manage to hit Toderan with his club, which he again blocked with his shield, but was thrown back, landing on his side. He quickly got up, as his mithril plate armor was much lighter than steel, and in three strides he was on the giant. As it was attempting to get to its hands and knees, the paladin thrust his holy sword into the base of its thick hairy neck. The shimmering mithril alloy blade sunk almost to the hilt. The giant let out a gurgling groan as it fell dead.

  Ordin had moved up to the giant he first hit and struck it in the calf, as it just had gotten back on its feet, with one hand still clutching its club and the other grasping its chest. The giant’s lower leg snapped with a loud crack, bringing it back to the ground. It swung its club in a powerful downward stroke as it fell. Ordin deftly rolled away from the huge club, which struck only earth. He then sprang back up on his feet and swung his hammer, hitting the giant square in the forehead, killing it instantly.

  “Ahhaahahh!” Ordin shouted in a victory cry. Tegent fired another arrow, which struck the third giant in the chest as it attempted to get up and pull the mithril javelin out of its shoulder. Lupek quickly closed in on the giant while drawing his scimitar and sliced a wide but thin and deep cut along its side, then he whirled around and plunged the curved blade to the hilt in its back. The giant’s distorted face reflected the pain of the deep wound as another arrow from Tegent pierced its neck, finishing it off as it fell forward with a thud.

  Fellaxe had finally recovered from being thrown from his wyvern when it crashed; he grabbed his axe and moved to meet this insolent threat. As he rounded his dead mount, he faced Mkel and Dekeen, who had drawn arrows trained on him. He grasped his black iron double-headed axe, with its bronze skull head in the center of the spiked circle that both blades of the axe originated from. “A dragonrider and an elf?” he shouted as he noticed the dragon symbol on Mkel’s collar. “Where’s your dragon? Too afraid to fight?” he attempted a weak insult.

  “No, you’re just not worth the bother, death knight,” Mkel answered back, matching his insult. “Now it’s time for you to surrender, or die,” Mkel quipped as he and Dekeen aimed their bows on him.

  “No, Captain. He’s mine,” Toderan shouted as he walked over to them.

  “An Alliance paladin; I will enjoy splitting your skull with my axe,” Fellaxe replied, as Mkel and Dekeen lowered their bows. Toderan’s holy sword was still dripping with the last of the dark reddish-purple giant’s blood, its ruby dragonstone glowing brightly.

  The two armies were now converging on each other. When the lines were within one thousand yards, all six small catapults that had managed to squeeze into the group that Strikenth and Talonth teleported in started to fire. The ballistae gunners on the land dragons also initiated firing with their dragon’s fire-tipped spears. The catapults that the Battle Point legion had taken with them were smaller than what Jodem was used to seeing but slightly more mobile. This did limit their range to a thousand yards as opposed to the mid to large size catapults that had a two- to three-thousand-yard range. The largest trebuchets of the Alliance Capital heavy legions could throw a sixty-pound projectile over two miles.

  One of the two fragmentation stones hit directly in the center of the orc lines, sending out nails and sharp metal fragments in a deadly twenty-yard circle. Nineteen orcs fell dead and twenty-four more were wounded by the secondary projectiles. The other stone hit just behind the lines, which only killed four and wounded twelve. The gunners quickly adjusted their catapult throw strengths to correct for the distance and the orc forward movement.

  “Down hundred yards and left fifty,” the second catapult crew leader shouted, as his men wound the throwing arm to a specific tension and loaded a dragon’s fire canister, as did the other engine. “Fire!” both crew leaders shouted to their men to let the arms fly forward. This time both hit their marks, with fireball bursts exploding in the middle of the orc and human infantry ranks, killing scores, coupled by the two dozen smaller bursts from the land dragon ballistae.

  “Damn that dragon’s fire of theirs. Why can’t our alchemists or the drow find the formula for that material?” Ashram grumbled to himself as he just reached his army, flying on his black demon horse steed. “We’ll see to that later.” He spurred his mount on toward the legion, preparing a spell, as the dark crystal on his staff started to glow. Suddenly an arrow sailed dangerously close to him, and then another struck the nightmare in the hindquarter, just penetrating its tough pitch black hide. The sorcerer looked up to see two squadrons of mounted hippogriffs bearing down on him. He quickly raised his magic shield, which stopped eight more arrows from finding their mark as the hippogriffs started to dart past him on their way to strafe his army below. He did manage to fire a lightning bolt, which struck one of the hippogriffs, sending it end over end toward the ground, but the rest had all passed out of his range before he could prepare another spell.

  “Where in Tiamat’s name are those manticores?” he shouted to himself, then looked over and saw them slowly approaching at mid altitude from the east. In the meantime, the first wave of hippogriffs dove on his mixed army below, letting loose a hail of arrows and dragon’s fire grenades, many of which found their mark. They then pulled up just as the second wave of two squadrons dove on the army from the opposite direction. The two squadrons of hippogriffs unleashed a hail of arrows and dragon’s fire grenades on the sorcerer’s army, resulting in over a hundred casualties. Several hippogriffs received arrows hits, mostly to the hindquarters as they flew by and pulled away. Orc archers were notoriously inaccurate and depended on pure numbers to achieve hits. The usual Morgathian army makeup had only a quarter of the number of archers the typical Allia
nce legion deploys.

  “The manticores will keep them busy for a while, it’s the land dragons that I have to worry about,” Ashram said to himself as his black steed dove down toward his own lines, looking for his key leaders. He saw Barlog moving behind the line of grummish and the behirs, shouting at the orc battalion he led. “Barlog!” he shouted as his nightmare steed reared up in midair just over the orcs’ heads. The land dragon ballistae were bursting in regular order all around them, accented with the occasional larger explosion of a catapult canister. This was playing havoc on the orc and human infantry lines.

  “Keep your scum in order!” the sorcerer screamed. “You are facing a reinforced legion; they somehow got here through your scouts.” Ashram was furious that the Battle Point legion had gotten so close without being detected, especially with nearly a battalion of land dragons. He estimated that this portion of his army still had them outnumbered, but not by as much as he would have liked. “And don’t let those grummish outdistance the behirs, or they will be burnt to ashes in the cross fire between them and the land dragons.”

  “Yes, my lord,” the large muscular orc shouted back.

  “Dog orc, we will not be told when we can kill,” the grummish leader growled in half common and half his own tongue.

  “You heard Lord Ashram,” the hierorc yelled back at him in orcish, “you are to stay in line.” Barlog brandished his black iron axe in a threatening posture.

  “You are food,” the hairy, brutish grummish leader snarled as he moved to engage the orc chieftain, raising his spiked morning star.

  “Enough!” Ashram yelled, and he fired a magic missile, hitting the grummish chieftain in the head, killing it instantly. “Now get back in line,” he continued as Barlog echoed the command and pushed several of the larger grummish back in their skirmish line; they all obeyed with little less hesitation. Grummish did not fear anything, but they respected power, especially magically originated power.

  A ballista spear then struck one of the behirs in the neck, piercing it straight through. The creature reared up, gave a muffled roar, and then collapsed. Three more were then struck, killing one and severely injuring the other two.

  “These snake dragons don’t have very thick skin,” Colonel Ronson said. “Pour it on boys,” he ordered through his seeing crystal, as all his ballistae gunners were loading and firing as fast as they could. “Drop as many as you can; that will make less work for your dragons.”

  “Damn those ballistae!” Ashram screamed. He counted almost thirty land dragons, and he surmised there must be another company in reserve, so he flew down and yelled to the remainder of his behirs to move to the front line, to hit them as hard and as fast as possible, then prepare for their reserve forces. He would soon join the behirs with his own destructive spells but couldn’t right now. He knew better than to take on such an assembled force, especially with the wizard that was moving with them. He had over ninety of these new creatures, and he felt confident they would match the Alliance land dragons.

  As the front lines of the legion and Ashram’s army closed to within three hundred yards, the Battle Point archers and crossbowmen began to fire in volleys. Hundreds of arrows arched over and rained down onto the ranks of the evil sorcerer’s troops. Many were finding their mark, for the orcs and grummish in particular were not that heavily armored. Some of the arrows were actually penetrating the behirs’ hides as well. The orc and Morgathian archers began to fire back, but their short bows, weaker limbed crossbows, and iron or soft steel arrow tips did not have the distance and power of the Alliance long composite bows and crossbows. The sorcerer’s army also lacked leadership in coordinating their archers.

  Scores of orcs and regular infantry were falling to arrow wounds, as the both armies continued to close the gap between them. Once they were within one hundred yards of each other, both the land dragons and the behirs began to gather power to unleash their breath weapons. The ballistae and catapult crews continued to fire and wreak heavy damage to the enemy lines, as well as hitting more behirs with greater consistency and effect.

  Jodem saw Ashram on his nightmare take to flight, and he responded by nudging Alvanch to launch into the air to meet him. The Talon sorcerer started the close melee by firing a series of lightning bolts at the legion. Jodem raised his staff and stopped the six chain lighting bolts with his shield, but the energy of Ashram’s spells did strike hard. “A sorcerer of some power,” he shouted to Ashram. “You might actually present a challenge before I vanquish you.” he chided.

  “I wouldn’t be so confident if I were you, Alliance magician,” Ashram countered.

  “Fool, you don’t know what you have just entered into,” Jodem said as he fired a disruption ray at Ashram. The Morgathian sorcerer’s shield held against the spell, but the blast pushed the nightmare back several yards in midair. Jodem then sent up a prismatic ray, which burst in brilliant colors several hundred yards into the sky. With that signal, the land dragons all breathed fire at the onrushing behirs and the line of troops moving with them. Strikenth and Talonth then took to wing from back where they had originally teleported the legion into the area, issuing their challenge roars.

  Ashram’s eyes opened wide in both shock and amazement at the presence of the two silver dragons, and he spurred his pitch black demon horse to the rear. The legion’s hippogriff wings were heavily engaged in fighting the manticores and hymenoids, along with the remaining dragon spawn. The numbers were about even, with both sides having approximately two hundred aerial forces, but the hippogriffs and their riders were slowly gaining the advantage.

  “Padonan, we’ll do an attack on the sorcerer’s ground forces, then sweep through and give the hippogriffs a little help, and repeat that until either they are destroyed or chromatics appear,” Lordan yelled over to the junior dragonrider.

  “Yes sir,” he answered. “Did you get that, my friend?” he asked Strikenth.

  Talonth already let me know, we will hit the right side of the Morgathian columns, concentrating on the behir creatures, his silver dragon answered.

  “Excellent, my friend; follow Talonth in his dive,” Padonan explained as he grabbed his glaive, springing the mithril blades open from its six curved arms. The two silver dragons began to dive on the leading edge of the sorcerer’s army. Both roared before simultaneously firing their freezing breath weapons. The icy blue beams had a cold that was beyond imagination, and they struck two of the lead behirs and any orc or grummish standing within fifteen yards of the creatures. The orcs and grummish caught in the icy blast instantly froze solid and shattered as they fell. The behirs that were hit roared a high shrill warble as their long sinuous bodies were partially froze and fell over on their many legs, which shattered from the intense cold. The combined strike left both behirs severely wounded and over sixty or more orcs and grummish dead, with as many injured from partial freezing. Lordan fired an energy bolt from his powerful dragonstone lance, which burst in the middle of the orcs, sending a dozen flying through the air.

  As the two silver dragons pulled up from their diving attack, the behirs switched from firing lightning bolts at the land dragons to them. Twenty or more bolts were directed at the pair of metallics, of which four struck Talonth’s shield and three hit Strikenth’s. Their shields took the impacts of the bolts without much trouble, as the snake-like dragon creatures had a fraction of the power of a blue dragon. As they pulled up and ascended, the downdraft from their wings almost knocked a section of the ranks of orcs and men over, and they both unleashed a flame strike spell on the troops in the back of the army’s column. Sheets of flame engulfed three dozen orcs and Morgathian fighters in a combined area of forty square yards.

  Padonan looked back as Strikenth flew up and away from the sorcerer’s army and threw his glaive, which streamed toward the rear columns. The mithril star-shaped weapon hit the trailing orc, cutting him in half in a blink of an eye, and
continued slicing twenty more before ascending to return to Padonan’s waiting hand. Both dragons roared a challenge to let the Battle Point hippogriffs know they were coming and to clear a path for them to attack any enemy in front of them.

  The two armies were almost on top of each other now. The legion had three land dragons injured to the point that they could not continue the attack in the exchange in breath weapon fire from the behirs. Two had taken three or more direct hits in the chest and neck from the lightning bolts, with the third being hit in the front leg after their magic shields had depleted. They fell back to the rear of the advancing legion, and their crews immediately started to apply Aloras salve to their wounds. The behirs were not faring well, with the combination of the land dragons’ fiery breath and their ballistae gunners taking out half of their numbers. Over twenty had fallen so far, along with hundreds of orcs and grummish caught in the blasts. The magic shield that the land dragons can project, while only a fraction of what a metallic dragon can produce, was still more than what the behirs had; which was minimal.

  “Sergeant, tell all the crews to ready for close combat,” Colonel Ronson ordered. “Thank the Creator these creatures don’t have shields, or we might have been in trouble, for they can fire their lightning bolts very fast. Let’s see how they are in a fang and claw fight.”