Dragon Alliance Dark Storm : Dark Storm

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Dragon Alliance Dark Storm : Dark Storm Page 13

by J. Michael Fluck


  “Terrenj, stay fast like I know you can and try not to get hit a lot,” Mkel said to his soldier as he walked toward the food tables.

  The tall, blond-haired soldier smiled at him through his scarred face from his many encounters in combat and training.

  “Poteignr, Crystinj, please come over here.” Jodem motioned the two archery competitors over to Gallanth. Mkel walked over to join them. He knew he wanted to give them a couple of last-minute tips to rest on before they competed in the archery event the following day. “I want you two to know that even though you are young competitors, I know your skill. You will do well, but remember when you are on the firing line, be all there. What matters back here or in Draden or even in the Fire Mountains cannot have an effect on your shot. Remember your breathing; fire only on the pause after you exhale; have a firm grip on your crossbow stock with an even, decisive, and smooth trigger pull. Your follow-through should be so smooth that an observer would think that an arrow had never been fired. Focus on the sight and secondarily on the target. It’s all about consistency,” the master shooter and wizard instructed his young students.

  “Yes, and above all, just have fun. The only shooter you have to satisfy on that line is yourself, not Jodem, not me, not Gallanth. Just shoot and aim for the true focus and purity of being at one with your crossbow and the whole shooting sequence. I have faith in you,” Mkel encouraged them with a smile.

  “As do I,” Gallanth added. “Now, go get something to eat, and we will have a surprise for you both in a couple of days that I know you’ll like,” Mkel added as he nudged them to go to the dinner tables. They both smiled and walked away.

  Crystinj was an eager and inquisitive young female soldier in the weir’s support corps company, with a flair for gathering information and analyzing it as well. She was a tall, lanky girl with slightly wavy brown hair and greenish eyes that held promise. Mkel had been impressed by her since she approached him a year ago and asked him to teach her how to shoot. She had proven to be an able student and quickly became one of the top archers in the support corps company and one of the best in the weir.

  Poteignr was also tall and lanky. He was of a truly humble nature, being Watterseth’s nephew and a cleric’s son at that. His purity would have made him a natural candidate for paladin, but he simply enjoyed teaching the weir’s children too much to engage in that rigorous training and lifestyle. His unassuming character gave him a natural lead into being a talented shooter, though Mkel was not sure that he could pull the trigger of his crossbow on an enemy. He did know that the time when he would find out would likely be coming soon however.

  “Weir Sergeant!” Mkel called over to Toderan, who was still drinking with Lawrent.

  “Yes, Captain?” he answered as he walked over to Mkel and Gallanth.

  “Are you ready for tomorrow?” Mkel asked.

  “As ready as I need to be, sir. Alvanch could do the joust run by herself; all I have to do is just point my lance in the right place,” he replied.

  “Don’t get too overconfident, my friend. I know you’re good, but your competition has a vote, and I don’t want you hurt with what may be coming our way soon. I will need all my council fit; we owe that to the garrison and our soldiers,” Mkel stated.

  “I know, sir; I will be fine tomorrow,” Toderan said with a rare smile accented by his brown mustache.

  “I know, my friend. I just don’t want to face a fight of that magnitude without you at my and the company’s side,” Mkel said as he put his hand on his taller friend’s shoulder.

  “Have faith, Dragonrider,” he said and with that, Toderan turned and went back to Lawrent to finish his tankard and to get something to eat.

  “He will be fine, Mkel, and Gallanth needs to eat, as do you. We will review your training notes for our competition in two days; we have to sweep the matches just to show our Capital Weir friends what Draden is truly made of,” Jodem said with a smile.

  “Yes, my rider, I will go get another of those large grouper fish halves. I indulge myself with this treat when I can,” Gallanth said to his rider.

  “All right, my friend, but don’t stuff yourself, for we have to be fit to fly soon, and a belly full of fish could throw your aim off,” Mkel replied.

  “Not a chance, I would not give Valianth, my brother, or Talonth an edge,” Gallanth said as he carefully stood up and moved to the interior of the weir. He went down to the feeding area set aside for the dragons to get his seasoned grouper.

  “So what do you think?” Mkel asked Jodem.

  “I think that they will do their best, and a couple of them actually have a chance to place. All we can do is remind them of the training we and the elves gave them and simply be there for them,” Jodem stated.

  “I wish them all luck, but I hope this level of competition brings out their best, for that is what we will need if we face the fire giant army in the east,” Mkel answered.

  “We will be all right, and the weir will not fail. You’ll see,” Jodem tried to keep Mkel at ease.

  “I know; I have faith in our soldiers and of course Ordin’s dwarves and Dekeen’s elves. As their commander, I don’t want to lose any of them for something we can prevent,” Mkel said with a feeling of anxiety.

  “You can only do what you can when you can. You give them every opportunity to hone their skills, and with the power of the weir council and what you and Gallanth bring to bear, it is the enemy who should fear losing all,” Jodem said as he put his hand on Mkel’s shoulder.

  “Yes, but they don’t care who they lose,” Mkel answered.

  “Then we can grant them that. This is all in the future. We plan for it, but right now, we are here, at the games. Come; let us enjoy the victories and efforts of our friends and soldiers. I am hungry to try these Capital Weir dishes and the cold ale,” the portly wizard said with a smile and ushered Mkel over toward the gathered Draden soldiers.

  The next morning, at the first full light, the aerial mounts were gathering on the far side of the parade field next to the weir mountain. Toderan, as usual, had woken up far earlier than Mkel and was one of the first ones down at the parade field to check Alvanch’s saddle and flying straps. They would be tested this morning in the aerial jousting, especially against the Sky Legion’s best knights. Toderan was deep in thought, as he rechecked his armor and inspected his practice lances. He then sheathed his holy sword. “No need for you today, my trusty friend, but soon,” he said quietly to his powerful magical sword. Its dragonstone ruby glowed faintly red for a second and then went back to normal as he thought of the coming fight with the fire giants. “Refocus on the now; plenty of time to plan for those unpleasant events,” he told himself as he started to lead his winged horse to the staging line to await the commencement.

  The thirty or so other knights and paladins from the weirs and the non-weir-affiliated legions were gathering in the marshaling area to await the day’s opening ceremony and the announcement of who was scheduled to compete against whom. Toderan noticed that there was no entrant from Battle Point. They must be still reconsolidating from the fight last month, he thought as he held Alvanch’s reins and guided her beside the other flying horses.

  The trumpets then began to sound to signal the beginning of the competitions for the day, and Canjon and Amerenth moved to the central podium stand. “Citizens and Civilians of the Alliance, we start this second day of the games with the ever-popular aerial joust. Our best and strongest paladins and knights from all over the republic, representing all the weirs and legions, are here now to demonstrate their prowess as warriors of the sky, pitting their wits, strength, steel, and lances against each other. Let’s give a big round of applause for these brave and talented paladins!” Canjon exclaimed with exuberance as the crowds erupted. After the cheering died down, Canjon continued, “We will also be holding the crowd-favorite non-dragonstone archery champions
hips with the most talented shooters from the military, citizenship, and civilians alike, all vying for the coveted golden oak leaf award of the elves. The land dragons and their crews will be competing in their spectacular and precise paired fight and maneuver competition, and the final events will be the hand-to-hand fighting and the elegant and exciting horse race.” With that, the spectators began to cheer again.

  After the cheers died down, Canjon announced the competitors of the first three matches: the Eladran Weir paladin against the knight from the aerial legion, the 3rd Legion versus the 4th, and Draden Weir against the 34th Legion.

  “The Capital Weir received a bye. How convenient,” Toderan said to himself as he started to walk to the staging area holding Alvanch’s reins. The Eladran and the aerial legion paladins’ winged horses then began to gallop and took to the air with the corresponding rise of cheers from the crowd. The two white-winged horses rose up in a lazy circular pattern until they reached the appropriate height of five hundred feet so all the spectators could see them, magnified in the image the wizards’ dragonstones projected. There were three mounted giant eagles flying overhead that could swoop down and catch any rider who might fall off his or her mount, even though they were all secured on their winged horses.

  Two Capital Weir wizard apprentices had sent their seeing-eye spells up to the starting points in the sky, which projected an illuminated line the competitors would use as a guide for their charges. The junior wizards then made their own images appear. They called to the two competitors to angle to their positions, from where they were to begin their run at each other. As they made their last turn to get the proper attack angle, Mkel could see the green oak leaf and cross arrows on the Eladran knight’s mithril-alloy shield, while the aerial legion knight’s silvery shield bore the white wing cradling a blue sword of the Hurricane Legion. With a flash from both of the apprentice wizards’ images, they began their charge.

  The Eladran knight was known to be a very tough competitor in the aerial joust, and his reputation for having impaled many a manticore and wyvern was well known, but the paladin of the aerial legion was also very deadly with a lance.

  This could prove to be an interesting round, Mkel thought as he watched the match through both Markthrea’s sight and the image in his mind from Gallanth’s vision. He also knew Toderan was tracking this one closely as well, for he would likely face one of these knights later in the day. The pick of the competitors for the matches, which he knew was supposed to be random, seemed to have a strange twist of fate that day.

  The knights closed in, both readying their shields and trying to take careful aim with their lances. It was both easier and more difficult than a ground joust with horses, for while the paladin didn’t have the gallop of the horse to contend with, even the strongest winged horse could not fly totally in a straight line with the fickleness of air currents. Just before they connected, both winged horses furled in their wings so as to not injure them in a collision. Both knights’ lances struck home smashing against each other’s shields and splintering into large toothpicks. They both held on to their mounts, which, given the speeds at which they struck each other, still amazed Mkel.

  They slowed their flying speed, and each was given another lance by a Capital Weir squire flying a hippogriff, and then at the signal of the wizards’ images, they started another run. This time, the Eladran paladin slightly bested his opponent by a direct hit on the upper shield; it caused him to snap back, but he did not fall. The next round ended up as a draw, and Canjon announced the weir knight as the winner based on the judgment of the panel of older paladin judges. The Eladran knight raised his holy sword, which glowed brightly with the green silk scarf fluttering from the hilt. He nodded to his opponent in a gesture of thanks for a well-fought match.

  The next match, between the 3rd and 4th Legion knights was equally close, but the paladin of the Blood Rock Legion was declared the winner. Toderan then took to the sky with the knight from the 34th Legion ascending opposite him. When they were given the signal, he motioned Alvanch forward at her maximum speed, using his legs to guide the winged horse slightly upward to get the most force from his lance’s strike. Just before the two paladins connected, both mounts retracted their wings and put their heads down. With the slightly downward angle and the natural strength that Toderan possessed, his lance hit the 34th’s shield with such power that he knocked his opponent off his saddle with only the securing straps holding him on.

  Two of the giant eagles from the Hurricane Legion swooped down to ensure that if the knight fell off his mount, they would catch him before he hit the ground. The crowd went wild at the dramatic hit, which automatically won him the match. He reached down and petted Alvanch’s neck, “Good approach, my girl; we couldn’t have asked for a better run,” he whispered into his mount’s ear. She then lowered her head and let out a whinny and snort of approval. They slowly descended and landed back on the field in front of the staging area. He would have at least an hour or so before his next match.

  Mkel and the Draden crew were cheering wildly with Gallanth letting out an approving roar.

  “What a hit!” Mkel yelled out.

  “Yes, his aim was true,” Gallanth added.

  “Excellent round to our stalwart friend,” Jodem stated.

  “Ha, a hit that could have knocked over a giant, I’ll have to give that annoying knight a pat on the back,” Lawrent conceded as he took another long draft from his tankard.

  The next rounds were almost as exciting, as the Capital Legion’s top paladin just barely bested the Cavalry Legion’s knight in a very close competition, and in a surprise win, the 11th Legion’s knight edged out his competitor from Lancastra Weir.

  As the aerial joust matches continued, the shooting competition started with dozens of the Alliance’s best archers and crossbowmen lining up on the firing line to the west side of the firing range. The land dragons and their crews were also simultaneously setting up on the east side of the firing line. Both events would be very close, but Mkel had a hunch that Draden Weir’s soldiers would do well, especially with the training and time that he and Jodem had given them. This was their first time in the games though. Sergeant Crystinj was going to compete with a masterwork crossbow that Eldir had made for her a couple of months earlier, and she was taking to it very well. Poteignr was still using an elven longbow, because, while he was very good with the new crossbows, the longbow gave the non-elven shooter a distinct advantage in speed. This was why all the Alliance military was in the process of converting, especially with the advent of the repeating variants.

  The call came from Canjon for the archery competitors to move to the line and prepare for the first firing order. The line judge gave the signal to prepare to fire, and the target butts were raised at the twenty-five-yard range. He turned, readied the hourglass, and shouted the firing commands. “This will be twenty arrows in twenty minutes. All ready on the right, all ready on the left, all ready on the firing line. Shooters, you may load and commence fire,” he finished as he put his hand on the glass. All competitors raised their bows; those with crossbows could fire with an arm tension sling from the prone position. As one of the competitors fired the first arrow, he turned the hourglass.

  Mkel was watching through Markthrea and also through Gallanth’s eyes, as a hail of arrows and bolts were let loose and streamed toward the targets. The images of the competitors were projected for the spectators as they shot, and then the arrow strikes on the targets were shown to give them the instant results. Crystinj fired an outside bull’s-eye worth ten points while Poteignr also fired a ten. All the shooters then began to nock and fire at will until all had fired their twenty arrows. They then walked out to retrieve their arrows after the officials had recorded their scores.

  Crystinj did fairly well with a score of one hundred and ninety-five out of two hundred, and Poteignr scored two points better. Mkel thought this would pu
t them both in the top ten, and his assumption was verified when the results were posted on the scoring board within minutes. The next round of firing was shot at fifty yards. This round went roughly the same, with the arrows striking home, but with slightly looser groups. Again, both of the Draden competitors placed in the top ten among all the shooters. The one-hundred-yard match started to separate the better archers, as the groups that were fired became wider, but Crystinj and Poteignr still held tight. The two-hundred-yard targets fired next, resulting in a growing percentage missing a few shots altogether. The distance slimmed the number of firers who maintained the highest scores. The last distance fired was the three-hundred-yard match. Mkel hoped his two young shooters would do well. He and Jodem had trained them specifically, knowing that these matches would be won or lost here, where the firing was toughest.

  Crystinj took careful aim with her graduated sight, taking the time to ensure her sight picture was aligned and firmly grasped both the stock and the bolt magazine that rested solidly on the ground. She exhaled and held her breath and then deliberately squeezed the trigger, applying the even pressure as Mkel had taught her to do; the bolt was sent flying downrange. It struck the round bull’s eye just left and low of center, a commendable shot.

  “An excellent first shot,” Gallanth stated, and Mkel agreed. They both continued to watch the rest of the match. As the competitors finished the last relay, the scores were quickly being tallied to ascertain a winner. “I believe your young apprentice won the long-range match,” Gallanth stated, which made Mkel smile. As the official announcement came, the weir commander jumped up and yelled; even Jodem smiled and shouted. Gallanth knew they were proud of the young lady. Crystinj was also the first female soldier to make the tryouts for the games in the shooting matches, which Mkel had to convince the Council of Generals to allow. She came in twelfth overall just a point ahead of Poteignr. While they didn’t win the overall match medals, they put forth a very good showing for their first time in a competition as big as this one, and they would be presented a smaller medal for placing in the individual matches.

 

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