Dragon Alliance Dark Storm : Dark Storm

by J. Michael Fluck

  The Morgathian heavy cavalry started to move to intercept the Arianans, but the orcs broke rank and began a headlong charge.

  “Fool insect creatures!” one of the Morgathian army captains shouted as they tried to maintain control of their own forces. “This attack must be coordinated, not lunging forward piecemeal,” he complained.

  “The men know what awaits them in that city—plunder and women. Can you blame them? We ran out of provisions three days ago,” a fellow officer yelled over to him through his black steel helmet, the visor and mouth guard making it look like a skull with jagged teeth. His companion briefly smiled, but his attention was diverted by the garbled roars of both the Arianan and Morgathian manticores coupled with the mounted wyverns clashing overhead. The two airborne forces fought in a unique aerial duel that pitted like creatures against like instead of their normal enemies from the Alliance or the Kaskars. The Arianan manticores were slightly smaller than the Morgathian versions and more of a tan color, while their counterparts had a deeper brown coat and mane, but both still had hideous apelike heads.

  Spikes were flying in every direction as many of the grotesque creatures and their riders started to fall from the sky. The death-knight-mounted wyverns were taking their toll on the Arianan manticores and riders, but not without losses of their own. The Morgathians were better flyers, with better armor but the smaller Arianan mounts were more maneuverable and more prone to fight to the death to achieve martyrdom. This fight will take a while before a clear winner emerges, so they will not be able to influence the battle on the ground, Tbok thought.

  The orcs’ mad rush was first met with a hail of Arianan arrows, which downed dozens of the raving and screaming creatures; however that still did not slow their advance. The two armies met in a headlong charge with spear and shield smashing into each other. A general melee broke out with both orcs and Arianan holy warriors slicing and smashing their opponents. The Arianan scimitars were being very effective in cutting through the orc leather and light chain-mail armor, but the same was true of the orcs’ crude axes, spiked clubs, spears, and hacking swords. The seven-foot-tall grummish shock troops among the orcs center line were taking their toll, however, swinging their heavy spiked maces and clubs, crushing skulls and bones with every swing, until enough Arianan spears could bring them down.

  As the sheer numbers and intensity of the melee had temporarily created a stalemate, the Arianan cavalry, lighter and faster than the Morgathian heavy horse, had outmaneuvered their opponents and now attacked the orcs from the rear. The long scimitars and mounted archers on their fast, sleek horses were starting to tear into the orcs’ rear ranks to where the orc war chieftain bellowed out for his lines to split and half face to their rearward attacking enemy. They were now effectively being ground to dust between the Arianan envelopment, and their numbers were dropping fast. Within minutes, the orc ranks were broken and they were being hacked to pieces. Even the three sub chieftain heir-orcs, with their black-iron weapons, were killed.

  As the last of the orc bands were being slain, the Arianan general raised his scimitar and shouted, “Death to the demonic orcs and the infidels! Praise be to Kallysh!”

  All of his army repeated the chant, “Victory to Kallysh! Victory to Kallysh!” However, this victory would be short-lived, for the Morgathian battle line was bearing down on them, and the black-armor-clad cavalry had reformed and was now moving to their right flank, with the fast-footed companies of gnolls racing to their left. The black turbaned Arianan general quickly realized his army was in a bad position, so he ordered his cavalry to meet the Morgathian heavy horse to hold them off, and his archers to rain death upon the foul fleet-footed hyena men who were bearing down on his exposed flank. He then rode up in front of his men and spurred them to attack the Morgathian infantry head-on, shouting, “For Kallysh and paradise!”

  His bearded, robed soldiers echoed the shout, and they took off into a headlong charge.

  The Morgathian ranks had separated enough to allow the dozen or so common giants and behirs to move to the front. As soon as the Arianan charge was within one hundred yards, the giants started to throw fifty to one-hundred-pound boulders at the Arianan advancing line. With surprising accuracy, they were crushing up to a dozen men with each successful hit. The behirs then started to unleash their deadly lightning breath weapons at the Arianans, horribly electrocuting and burning several at each strike.

  The Arianan general hastened their charge to minimize the losses he was receiving from this combined attack and rushed headlong into the awaiting Morgathian spears. Once the first wave was skewered, an open fight ensued. The Morgathian armor was much more difficult to cut through than the orcs’ and while still inflicting heavy casualties among the Morgathian infantry and even bringing down many of the giants and a few behirs, the fanatical warriors were dropping at a fast rate. The drow had very stealthily maneuvered around the rear of the Arianan Army and began to wade into their ranks; their speed and sword prowess proved deadly to the desert fighters.

  The Arianan general looked back from atop his horse to see if he could garner help from his cavalry and archers. However, all he saw was the dark steeds of the Morgathians chasing what was left of his horsemen, and while his archers had finished off many of the gnolls, they were too heavily engaged to be of consequence. Faced with being trapped, the bearded Arianan general spurred his horse and tried to escape by breaking through the drow, but he was hit with several dark-elf short javelins and darts. As he fell, he was swarmed by a squad of drow, who hacked him to pieces. Very soon, just like the orcs, the Arianans were being crushed between two belligerent forces. Those who tried to surrender were immediately executed, and very soon, the battle on the ground was over, with the lead death knight, raising his black-iron sword in victory. The rest of the Morgathian army echoed his shout.

  The aerial duel had proven a draw with both Arianan and Morgathian forces suffering heavy losses and both forced to temporarily retreat. The Arianan manticore commander, seeing his mounted warriors were being pushed back, decided to lead the Morgathians to fight him over the city. Once they had lured them in, hundreds of archers and ballista were launched into the sky and sent several Morgathian manticores and wyverns plummeting to the ground.

  The black-armor-clad warlord quickly regained control of his army, which was much smaller now, having lost at least half of his men and all the orcs, a total of ten thousand. He started to move toward the city walls.

  “Treynag, send your battalions to the wall,” the warlord ordered.

  “Sire, they are exhausted from the fight with the enemy army, and many are falling from the heat of this accursed land!” the senior officer yelled back.

  “Attack now; no questions unless your men want a spear to their back,” the warlord angrily replied. Grudgingly, the regimental commander ordered his men forward to the gate. As soon as they were within a hundred yards of the wall, a hail of arrows streamed out from over the top and behind the fortification and rained on the Morgathian army. Dozens fell as the volleys kept coming and coming. The death knight, shield raised to deflect any projectile directed at him, ordered his forces back. The Arianan back bows proved very effective. These specially trained archers had oversized recurve bows that in order to fire, they had to lie on their backs, strap their feet on the limbs, and pull the bowstring with both hands with their legs raised. While not overly accurate, they could send an arrow for hundreds of yards.

  As the Morgathians backed out of range of these unique archer units, the Arianan commander ceased their fire and shouted for a victory in the name of Kallysh. Again, this proved short-lived, as over three dozen chromatic dragons started to bear down on the city. The Arianan military commanders shouted orders to the archers and ballista crews on the walls to ready for the imminent attack.

  “Emir, how can we survive this attack?” the emir’s aide cried out to his leader totally in the grip of fea
r.

  “This is finally your chance for martyrdom, my friend,” the thick-bearded Arianan monarch said with an almost maniacal smile; his aide-de-camp looked at him, horrified.

  “They’ll destroy the entire city,” the slender servant angrily replied,

  “Then all of Ariana, all of the followers of Kallysh will finally rise up in defiance and crush the infidels and their beasts, wash the whole world in blood, and then and only then can the true peace of the believers be allowed to flourish,” the emir declared almost in a trance, clearly indicating that through his fanatical belief, he was on the verge in insanity. At that, the silken-robed servant backed away and started to run.

  “Hah, look at how they run! This will be a moment to remember, Tbok. The day the Morgathian Empire rained terror on these desert rodents and reasserted itself as the one true power in the world!” Nozok excitedly yelled into his dark crystal as the red dragon he was riding on soared over the desert sands toward Hasera, smoke starting to escape from its mouth in its preparation to breathe fiery death upon the residents of the city.

  “Yes, a day to remember, when we wiped out a poorly defended city. Very little challenge, my friend, but at least the treasury will be ours,” Tbok answered, but he was still very concerned that Stalenjh had used him as a pawn in this dangerous game of his—not that it was unexpected, but still, it was not very much appreciated. The lead squadron of chromatics started their dive toward the eastern wall and began to unleash their breath weapons when they were in range. The defenders on the near wall were engulfed in deadly dragons’ fire, multiple virulent burning acid streams, and beams of shattering icy frost that almost eliminated the Arianan soldiers manning those ramparts. The wall itself was struck with multiple lightning bolts, which were blowing holes in the thick mud cement defensive structure.

  However, just behind the wall, the back bowmen were ready and sent thousands of arrows into the air, which like a cloud of angry hornets caused the dozens of dragons to split. While only one in ten arrows fired was able to penetrate most of the dragons’ armored hide, the first intense volley was enough to down a white dragon and force a black to the ground. The white who had been caught in the main force of the arrow barrage had literally hundreds of arrows strike its underbelly and wings. One penetrated just under the central armored breast scale and found its way to the beast’s heart. It folded and crashed in middle of the archers crushing dozens. A black dragon was hit too many times in its wings and was forced to land very roughly to the side of the groups of archers. As it stood up, with an angry roar, it breathed the second and last flaming acid stream that it could muster for the day and melted dozens of the archers in a wide arc and then proceeded to move among them, biting, slashing, and crushing many in its path. Those close to it were desperately trying to fire as many arrows as fast as they could to stop the ferocious black beast.

  The coordinated arrow barrage forced the chromatics to split and fly toward the inner portion of the city walls, which put them in perfect ballista range. Dozens of spear-sized projectiles hurtled toward the weaving dragons. The larger and faster ballista spears had an easier time penetrating the hides of the chromatics with only the red dragons’ thick hides proving difficult. Two white, two black, and a green dragon fell to the two-sided ambush. While a small victory for the Arianan gunners, it didn’t last, for a few chromatics in the rear of the attacking squadrons still had not used their breath weapons and destroyed several of the ballistae and their crews. An angry Tbok and Nozok cast multiple lightning bolts at the ballista weapons on the lead edge of the attack helping to prevent a continued barrage of spears.

  The dragons then continued to pass over the city unleashing deadly spells, raining firestorms on houses and other structures. Freezing icy beams shattered the fleeing residents and thinly built homes, and hundreds of lightning bolts blew down walls and opened gaping holes in everything they struck. The dragons crisscrossed the city laying waste to anything standing and decimating anyone and anything below. Nozok especially was enjoying unleashing spell after spell at the city below, adding to the destruction.

  The Morgathian army had taken advantage of the chaos and shock effect caused by the dragons’ attack and had rushed the stone and iron gates. The lead battalion forced a pair of giants to the fifteen-foot-tall gate doors, and they began pounding them with their metal spiked clubs. This was answered by a squad of somewhat brave Arianan soldiers pouring two cauldrons of boiling oil on the brutes, which immediately forced them to their knees screaming in agony. Insult was added when several archers sent flaming arrows that struck the giants, setting their twelve-foot-tall hulking frames ablaze to finish them off.

  The incensed Morgathian warlord ordered his remaining behirs to fire on the gate, and several apprentice drow sorcerers and clerics cast disruption and shatter spells at the large doors as well. Soon, with the multiple strikes, the reinforced doors buckled and gave way. A shout of victory rippled through the Morgathian army and the drow, and they began to pour through the gate. Several dozen of the first attackers through the breach were met with a volley of arrows and were cut down, but the mad rush of black-chain-mail-clad Morgathian soldiers soon overwhelmed the remaining defenders, and the drow nimbly darted in and were cutting the lightly armed archers down with the speed of their black-iron long swords.

  The Morgathian death knight warlord started to lose control of his army as they moved into the city but was able to direct the drow to move along the walls and eliminate the remaining ballista gunners. As the chromatic dragons continued to unleash destruction on the remaining standing structures in the city, the pillage, rape, and massacre began. As Hasera was ablaze, Nozok and Tbok directed the dragons to land and drop off the dozen or so Talestra guards to surround and secure the palace and treasury buildings. The heavily armed death knights were joined by the remaining drow and moved into the palace, eliminating any guard or servant they encountered. Soon, they were dragging the emir out of his palace. He was thrown at the feet of the two Talon sorcerers and their dragons Traxsus and Hellstrafe.

  “Well, oh mighty and holy Emir! Behold your city is in ruins, your people are slaughtered, your women are violated, and your holy temples are rubble. Your gold and gemstones will be ours, and we will see that this city is nothing but a memory. This is the price for insolence to the Morgathian Empire,” Nozok coldly said to the emir, who was forced onto his knees by the two Talestra.

  “Infidel! Dragon vermin! I will soon spit on you from paradise,” the emir spat back.

  “Then we will help you get there. Hellstrafe?” He stepped back and motioned to the imposing red dragon, who breathed a small cone of searing hot fire engulfing the monarch. His screams were only silenced when the dragon’s head reached down and clamped his razor-sharp fangs onto the burning man and lifted him into the air, biting down and then swallowing him.

  “Now, we’ll let the men have their fun for the rest of the day and until tomorrow, and then we have to empty the treasury and prepare it for shipment back to Morgathia. Use the captured Haserans to load the treasure and then kill them. First, we shall divide the gemstone shares for us and Stalenjh, and then have the Talestra and the drow oversee the gold and silver being placed in the wagons and guarded for the long trek back through the tunnels. What a glorious day, my friend!” He looked over to Tbok and smiled.

  “Yes, it has been too long since we razed and plundered a city. This will be the first of many, and to the destroyer goes the spoils,” Hellstrafe’s deep and sinister voice boomed over the group as he reached down and grabbed a sack of gems from a drow carrying it toward them. He then flicked up several with his pointed tongue and quickly swallowed them. Traxsus followed suit.

  The senators started to arrive at the Capital Weir in a long train of carriages and some even by their own hippogriffs. Becknor and Therosvet had the weir ready for their arrival with personnel to greet and escort them to a staging area with ref
reshments. This was more for the Enlightened senators before they all loaded up on the Capital Wing dragons and headed out to the Shidanese capital, Dagrad, to meet with King Ibliss for this all-important diplomatic envoy. As the senators continued to arrive, the weir’s horn blew signaling a dragon’s arrival. Becknor and Therosvet looked to the weir entrance to see Canjon fly in on Amerenth.

  “I see our message, along with Master Hestal’s, made him decide to come on this mission,” Therosvet spoke softly to Becknor.

  “Yes, he had to cancel a lengthy diplomatic visit that would have taken him to Freiland and then to the Kaskar city of Elsidor. Hestal and I knew we needed to send him, with his ability to smooth feathers when they get ruffled by harsh words in negotiations,” Becknor answered even more softly to his second in command, so as to prevent any senator from overhearing his conversation.

  “General Becknor, I was told that only you and the colonel here were going as the weir’s part of the diplomatic mission. I will not allow another infernal self-proclaimed diplomat dragonrider to ruin negotiations between us the Shidanese king, and I also demand that you get more of your overgrown lizards down here to ferry us to Shidan. The importance and status of these key senators demands only one be carried per dragon, and—” Tekend pontificated until he was interrupted by Becknor’s irate response.

  “First, Senator Tekend, we are conveying you to that despicable despot king at the request of Premier Reagresh. How we do this is our business. You have no say in these matters. It surprises us that you would even consent to ride a dragon, much less request the Capital Wing, knowing your dislike for them and their riders,” Becknor shot back.