Dragon Alliance Dark Storm : Dark Storm

by J. Michael Fluck

  Caraeyeth didn’t waste her acid breath weapon on the black dragon since its dark hide had some measure of resistance to it; instead, she cast her powerful lightning barrage spell. Ten powerfully charged energy bolts darted from her outstretched claws, eight of which found their mark, shattering the black dragon’s shield and pummeling the dark chromatic’s back and wings. The deadly bolts were enough to slay her opponent, and the smoking carcass of the black dragon nosed down and crashed in the training field on the far side of the Severic River. Caraeyeth then fired the remaining six bolts at the wounded black dragon, four of which struck it. The wounded beast started to lose altitude, allowing the copper dragon to quickly catch up to it and force it to the ground. Once there, she grappled her chromatic opponent and tore at it with her powerful claws and stone-crushing jaws. Heathiret was also able to get a deep thrust into the black neck of the beast, which was the fatal blow.

  The copper dragon’s victory roar echoed over the flat, grassy plain. She then leaped back into the air and flew back to the weir. Mkel thanked the sentinel, but as he started to walk back into the mountain entrance, he saw a wagon pulled by four horses running at breakneck speed as it emerged from the forested mountains and headed toward the weir. He looked through Markthrea’s sight to see it being pursued by a group of orcs mounted on dire wolves. He called Heathiret to turn around and dispatch the section of mounted orcs, which she did with one blast of her flaming acid breath. The wagon only slowed down after it crossed the bridge over the Severic. Then it headed onto the road that led to the weir’s entrance.

  “My lord, thank you so much for rescuing me from those demons. I was traveling in the Gray Mountains prospecting and happened onto this small group of men, who said they were poisoned by those orcs and needed to escape,” the old prospector exclaimed as he pointed to the four unconscious men in the back of his covered wagon.

  “Take me into the weir, and I’ll talk with you. First, how did you outrun those dire wolves in a wagon? That is an accomplishment unto itself,” Mkel asked as he climbed up onto the front bench board of the wagon.

  “I have fast horses, sir, and that group wasn’t as voracious as wolf riders usually are. But I was surprised to see them this far north and that deep into the Gray Mountains, or at least on the Alliance side of them, sir,” the prospector answered.

  “Please call me Mkel, and while it is surprising for you to encounter them where you were traveling, there was just a massive battle at the eastern base of the Gray Mountains where they meet the Fire Mountains. We were victorious, but in the chaos, remnants of the fire giant army could have slipped by. Are you an Alliance citizen?” Mkel asked.

  The prospector looked closely at Mkel’s uniform and saw the gold emblems on his collar. “Dragonrider, my apologies. I have not seen one since the Great War. I served with the 1st Legion,” he stated.

  “No need for apologies; you are a veteran and a friend, and my name is still Mkel. I will need you to talk to my weir’s wizard and explain what transpired. We will get my battle healers to look at these strange gentlemen in your wagon. Howrek!” Mkel called when they entered the weir until he saw the battered lieutenant staggering away from the collapsed manticore. Deless had rushed to them and put the hideous beast he flew to sleep with a spell, but the other had to be slain, for it was reacting dangerously when it saw so many griffons in the far stables.

  “By the Creator, boy, it’s damn good to see you. How in Michenth’s name did you escape?” Mkel exuberantly shouted out as he grabbed and hugged his friend. Howrek winced as Mkel’s embrace hurt his bruises from the beating.

  “Sir, it is good to see you and the weir, especially after what I’ve been through,” Howrek replied.

  “What am I thinking? We must get you to Watterseth and the healers to tend to your wounds, as well as your Eladran friend,” Mkel let go of Howrek and called for his battle healers. He escorted them both to the weir’s healing hall. “Lieutenant Ablich, have the men carry those wounded to the healers as well,” he ordered his senior lieutenant as he walked with Howrek and the Eladran soldier. He informed Gallanth of what had transpired and met with Jodem and Toderan at the healer hall on the far side of the weir tavern. The battle healers had just started to dress Howrek’s and the Eladran soldier’s wounds when Watterseth came in and magically healed them, which was especially good for the Eladran soldier’s broken ribs.

  “Now where did they take you and how did you escape?” Jodem echoed Mkel’s questions.

  “The death knights took me to the closest fire giant castle, then I was struck and woke up in another crude giant castle that I surmised was farther east. I met with my Eladran comrade there where we were questioned by a Talon sorcerer, who looked like he was turning into a lich, along with another younger sorcerer,” Howrek explained telling a half truth as not to arouse Gallanth.

  “Our friend Ashram,” Mkel said to Jodem, who nodded.

  “After they had two death knights and several other Morgathians beat us, they told us that they would personally interrogate us the next day and we would likely not survive unless we gave them the troop and strength numbers for our weirs. I did hear them argue with a fire giant chieftain though but did not get any details. Luckily, one of the Morgathians who was tasked to guard us was friends with a manticore rider and wanted to defect to the Alliance and help us escape. That night, he slipped into the dungeon and sliced the guard’s throat and freed us. We made it out of the castle on his friend’s mount and another stolen manticore before morning and flew hard the whole next day and into the night. We made it to the Gray Mountains and decided to fly north to Draden, rather than cross the peaks and try to get to Eladran. I didn’t know exactly where I was but knew the break in the mountains would be just east of Draden.

  “The Morgathians sent several chromatic, manticore, and wyvern patrols after us, and we were pursued for hundreds of miles as we flew weaving in and around the mountains. We did meet up with the old prospector just short of Draden pass but were ambushed by those manticores and the dire wolf riders.

  They were firing poisoned arrows at us and the group with the prospector. The black dragons then appeared, and we could not help them, so we made a break for the weir. Before the rider passed out, he told us that the poison from the small bolts that hit them was supposed to just put its victim to sleep and not kill them, so they should be all right by tomorrow,” Howrek explained.

  “Well, what a stroke of luck you had, for if the sorcerers would have interrogated you, it would have made the beating you received feel like a massage, from what we’ve seen Ashram administer,” Lupek commented from the back of the room.

  “Yes, I agree. We will need to talk more of what Ashram and the other sorcerer, Marlok, I believe, wanted and anything you heard them say,” Jodem commented.

  “Yes, Master Jodem, but I am very tired and hungry now,” Howrek pleaded in an almost anxious fashion.

  “Yes, Lieutenant, I understand, you need rest. We will continue this conversation tomorrow,” Jodem agreed. Howrek quickly finished his meal and offered his thanks and appreciation for all who prayed and attempted to rescue him. He then proceeded to his quarters to bathe, eat and go to sleep. It was hard for him to hide his feelings, which were now mixed, even from himself. He was committed to this course of action now and must follow through with it, he thought.

  “The lieutenant seemed to be very anxious,” Toderan said to the gathered leaders.

  “Yes, there is something wrong with him. Watterseth, you might want to talk to him, and maybe Gallanth should question him when he awakens from his healing sleep,” Jodem commented.

  “You two are always too suspicious. He is just shaken up from being captured, tortured, and facing a helpless excruciating death at the hands of the merciless Talon sorcerers. I saw what they were doing to those Battle Point legionnaires before we stopped them,” Mkel stated as Heathiret walked in
. “My dear, thank you again for all you’ve done today. In your short time as the newest dragonrider of Draden Weir, you’ve already proved yourself invaluable. I need one more favor from you, however. The Eladran soldier who came back with Lieutenant Howrek is ready to be taken back to your old weir. I know you just came from there, but can you take him home please? He deserves a hero’s conveyance back, not just in the teleportation circle,” Mkel quickly addressed his new dragonrider.

  “This is not a problem, sir. I have to pick up the last of my belongings anyway for the return trip and give a couple more good-byes. Caraeyeth and I will see to it right away,” she quickly replied, saluted Mkel, and walked out toward the healing hall to escort the Eladran soldier to her dragon and ferry him back to her old home weir. “Hornbrag, did the chromatic parts arrive today?” Mkel asked his weir’s business and materials lead.

  “Yes, Mkel, they arrived early this morning. Watterseth has to bless the material to rid it of its remaining evil so the dwarves and elves can make it into useful items for the weir,” Hornbrag answered.

  “Thanks, my friend, very much appreciated,” Mkel thanked his friend at which his seeing crystal lit up and Annan’s image appeared as he looked into it.

  “I think Silvanth is ready to give Macdolan his dragonstone, my husband, but she has some sort of reservation,” Annan told him.

  “Thank you, my love. We will be there in a few moments,” Mkel answered, as he looked at Jodem. “Why would Silvanth have a reservation on the giving of a dragonstone? Macdolan was instrumental in this last battle and has always been a proven leader and soldier, loyal to the weir,” he asked his wizard mentor.

  “Dragons are a unique lot in their feelings, for they can sometimes either see or sense something that most others cannot. Just look at what Gallanth can do with his power of foresight. This has saved countless thousands of lives, but especially yours and his. She is not refusing, so I would not worry about it, my young friend,” Jodem explained.

  “I understand. So we better get to the hatching ground before she changes her mind,” Mkel said with a big smile as he led his companions out of the healing hall and toward the nesting area where the big silver dragon was resting on the floor of the weir landing.

  The ceremony went well, but Silvanth did add a comment to the usual statement she made when she bestowed a dragonstone on someone. “A reminder and a warning to you, Sergeant Macdolan of Draden Weir, what dragons give, they can take away,” the silver dragon stated with a harsh final warning. Everyone was slightly taken aback by this, but she said nothing further and Macdolan was overwhelmed with his new weapon of power. In the exuberance of Howrek’s and the Eladran Weir soldier’s return and the issuance of a dragonstone weapon, the day went very fast. Mkel was also excited about the hunting trip he was going on the next day with Toderan, so he retired early to spend time with Annan and Michen before going to sleep.

  “This operation was very costly to Morgathia, Hasseir. Your scarab assassins better deliver what you have promised and kill many of the dragonriders,” Ashram chastised the Black Scarab guild master as they dined at the fortified structure in the northern province of Shidan. The black banner with its scarab outline over the two crossed curved daggers blew in the strong northern desert breeze outside the top level of the curved keep.

  “Sorcerer, my silent holy warriors are well versed in their art. They are moving in place at all the Alliance’s blasphemous fortresses and will strike at the unholy dragonriders in the night. All the diversions have worked, and they are in place. Kallysh willing, their poison daggers will pierce the hearts of the infidel demon servants,” the gray-bearded, black-robed assassin guild master explained.

  “They had better or there will be ramifications, assassin. We lost a whole army group and your fellow Kallysh men lost many ships in this diversion. We wouldn’t want your northern protectorate city suffering the same fate as Hasera, would we?” Ashram stated.

  “No, my sultan, we wouldn’t, but my martyred brothers are enjoying the pleasures of paradise now,” the elderly Black Scarab replied with the typical acquiescence of the Kallysh, who were forced to deal with a stronger force until they felt they had enough strength to defeat them. Until that time arrived, they would play the dutiful servant or ally against a common enemy, and then when the opportunity struck, they would slit their friends’ throats. That was the Black Scarab way, the Kallysh way.

  Caraeyeth had just started to rise from Eladran Weir in the cool late-fall night air over the water. The moon was full, and the air was very crisp, almost too frosty. The copper dragon slowly gained altitude as she flew away from the weir over Eresta Lake, she and her rider enjoying the beautiful night. The air grew colder as they leisurely soared over the water and whipped through Heathiret’s long blond hair. She felt a chill, so she tapped her heating crystal on the back of her riding jacket for warmth and activated her weapon’s shield to stop most of the cool air from hitting her. She looked down on the rippling waters of the grand lake and the moon’s reflection as light bounced over the small waves. However, the wary dragonrider then spied two patches of ice on the water. She knew it was cooler than usual but not cold enough for a lake to start to freeze.

  “My rider, I am a dragon of the earth and cannot smell things in the water very well, unlike our bronze dragon kin, but there is something foul in the lake below us,” Caraeyeth said. Heathiret knew that while her dragon was not a gold or silver, with their powers of foresight, or even a brass dragon that had limited talent in this skill, she trusted her sense of things. She then felt Caraeyeth slightly tense and maximize the power of her shield from its normal minimal level, which enabled the dragons to slip through the air with ease, to full strength, and grasped the hilt of her sword. Just at that moment, the ice below cracked, and a frost-blue beam streaked from the water and partially struck the copper dragon’s shield. Caraeyeth immediately veered hard to the right as three more deadly icy beams fired out from the water trying to hit their mark. Only one glanced off her shield as the other two just barely missed. Four white dragons and two black dragons then emerged from the water, loudly roaring in their challenge to the copper dragon and Eladran Weir in general.

  “What is with our luck today, Caraeyeth? I thought we now work for a gold dragon, which is supposed to be good luck!” Heathiret half joked, half shouted to her dragon.

  “Fear not, my rider, I have already told Fieranth of this ambush attack and they are mobilizing as we speak,” the copper dragon answered.

  “It looks like they are anticipating that, for four of the chromatics are moving to attack the weir,” Heathiret observed. The weir’s sentinel started to fire powerful beams of energy that drove off the four dragons with moderate damage to its magic shield. Fieranth and Baranth were the first dragons to fly out of the weir to engage the foolish chromatics, followed by six other dragons, and very soon, the chromatic attack was silenced. A caravan and several boats had fled into the weir as frightened locals sought safety from the unusual attack.

  “Colonel Lordan, how did these foolish chromatics enter Alliance territory undetected?” Heathiret asked her former commander.

  “They must have slipped in during our campaign in the Fire Mountains. It doesn’t make sense though, for what did they think they would gain? But they might not have known of their kin’s defeat,” Lordan half answered her. He too was puzzled by this action and tried to answer his own question. “Well, it could be just that they were young and stupid; at least the local villagers are safe and the weir is secure. The sentinel helped see to that. Now you’d better get back to Draden, or Captain Mkel will think I stole you back,” Lordan told the young rider with a wink. Caraeyeth thanked them and teleported away in a brilliant blue flash.

  By the time Caraeyeth and Heathiret had returned to Draden Weir and were debriefed by Mkel and Jodem about the attack against Eladran Weir, as well as news of a similar attack on High
Mountain Weir, it was late. Mkel had asked Silvanth to tell the weir sentinel to be extra alert for any more chromatic attacks, especially coming from the river. Mkel knew this was highly unlikely since Dekeen’s elves were always on alert and Jennar was at one with the waters around Draden. There would be warning of any external attack long before it happened, and now that he had another dragon to depend on, he and Gallanth did not need to be constantly ready to some degree for trouble that might arise. He wanted to let Gallanth rest as deeply as he could and didn’t believe that there were enough chromatics left in the area for any type of sizeable attack. He and Gallanth, along with Eladran Weir, had slain dozens of their chromatic enemies. With that thought, he checked on Michen, who was fast asleep, petted his elfhound, and went to sleep.

  Well past midnight, the Scarab assassins started to wake from their poison-induced deep sleep. As masters of venomous concoctions, they all had timed the dosage for an eighteen-hour comatose sleep and were pretty much on the mark. They quickly but silently gathered all their weapons and equipment from the hidden compartments in their wagon after they quietly dispatched the lone assistant healer who was resting at the healing hall. The assassins quickly restudied the map that Howrek had supplied them of the weir interior, so all knew of their destination, which was Mkel’s living quarters. They turned their clothes inside out. They were now wearing the color of the grayish stone that made up much of the inside of the weir as their camouflage. The Black Scarabs crept quickly along the sides of the landing to make sure that they moved close to the chromatic hides and body parts that were delivered to the weir that day, which was carefully monitored and timed by the assassins. They quickly rubbed small pieces of the hides on their clothing to hide their intent from Gallanth, who could detect evil at quite long distances.