Dragon Alliance Dark Storm : Dark Storm

by J. Michael Fluck

  “We should be going, for the egg will be ready to hatch soon,” Rapierth stated as they all turned toward the hatching area. They arrived just in time to get Crystinj changed into the ceremonial blue dress and have the attendants move her and the three other candidates to the large brass-colored egg. The weir’s wizard, Shaltor, was standing to the side of the egg in front of the applicants, along with the leader of the local sea elf clan, the mountain and thunder giant clan leaders, and the senior latouc and its rider. Many other legion and battalion commanders were in attendance as well. What a diverse crowd here at Atlean, but then just look at Draden Weir with its elf and dwarf contingents, Mkel thought.

  Mkel then noticed the dragonstone in Kershan starting to glow; the stone in Markthrea, which was slung over his back, also began to shine. The female brass dragon raised her head; her eyes were glowing as well. “The egg is ready to hatch, my rider,” Gallanth spoke out softly, but loud enough for all gathered to hear. The crowd became quiet as the candidates tensed. Crystinj looked back to Mkel and Gallanth, who both nodded to her. Mkel had told her that if Gallanth had a feeling regarding the bonding they would give her a signal to prepare herself. Mkel held the blue cable, which was attached to the young lady’s waist, a little tighter.

  At that moment, the large egg cracked and then rocked and cracked again. A shard broke off, and a brilliant beam of light emerged from the egg. Another shard then flew off, emitting more light, and the female brass dragon leaned toward the egg. Mkel could not hear her silent words, but he was pretty sure that she was telepathically giving her daughter encouragement to crack the shell and emerge. As the egg rocked harder, a long fissure appeared along the top and side, soon followed by several more all over the smooth brass surface. In a loud, cracking sound, the egg shell burst open and shattered; the whole crowd had to divert their eyes from the blinding light that filled that part of the weir. As the light subsided, the brass hatchling raised her head and let out a warble type of roar, as she announced her coming into the world and the magic and power she would bring.

  Gallanth and all the dragons present lifted their heads and roared in celebration; the echoes of the combined bellows were almost deafening. The little hatchling stretched her wings and tail out. Mkel was also amazed at how small she was—still just over fifteen feet long, with her wingspan at roughly twenty-five feet, making her slightly smaller than a hippogriff. As the brass egg was a third the size of the one that Silvanth would lay, the baby dragon looked very tiny to him. He did know that hatchlings grew at an incredible rate and that she would be fully grown in a year or two.

  The brass hatchling then looked around to find the candidates from which she would choose her first rider, the person with whom she would soul bond. She wobbled, somewhat unsteadily toward the girls gathered before her, all in their customary blue dresses. As she made her way to them, one of the young women stepped toward her. The brass hatchling hissed, raised her left front leg, and knocked her back, sending her tumbling and rolling away. This surprised Mkel until Bkert leaned over and told him that the girl was the spoiled daughter of a local Enlightened official and guild owner, who demanded to have her included in the selection. Shaltor had convinced Rapierth to allow it to demonstrate to them that dragons had their own sense of worth.

  The hatchling then stood in front of the remaining women, who were now a little more anxious after the brass newborn swept away one of their numbers. Her eyes flashed as she looked at each of the girls; Mkel knew she was reading their souls. As the glow in her eyes faded to normal, she shifted slightly, raised her right talon, and cut the cable Mkel was holding. The brass hatchling then with a swift and surprisingly deft swipe, made a shallow cut just above Crystinj’s left breast. The young woman winced but stood her ground as the hatchling pierced her own talon pad and placed it over the girl’s wound, the green-blue blood immediately staunched the bleeding and entered the razor like cut. Crystinj’s body started to shake almost uncontrollably as Shaltor waved his wizard’s staff over her. The eyes of all the dragons present started to glow. At the point where Mkel thought that his young friend was not going to survive the bonding, she stopped shaking. The dragons’ eyes ceased glowing, and Shaltor moved away from her.

  “I have chosen you, Crystinj, as my rider,” the hatchling said out loud.

  “Kearideth, my beautiful dragon, I hear you; we are one,” Crystinj said just before they both recited the dragonrider’s oath. The dragons again roared in celebration, and all gathered yelled and applauded. Mkel felt tears come down his cheeks in his joy over his soldier, his shooting pupil, his friend, becoming a dragonrider. Bkert came over and hugged him in congratulations. Mkel then walked over to Crystinj and hugged her, as Gallanth lowered his massive head and welcomed the new dragon to Draden Weir and also to make sure that she didn’t accidently harm his rider.

  “I can’t tell you how happy I am for you. I knew you had a good soul and were of the right mettle and heart to be a dragonrider. I can’t wait until you two are soaring by my and Gallanth’s side. I will be honored to have you as my wing second,” he told her. She hugged him again.

  “Thank you, sir. Thank you for everything—for teaching me to shoot, for giving me this chance to bond, for everything,” she replied tears in her eyes as well. She hugged him one more time before she walked over beside her dragon. Kearideth’s mother then escorted them to the hatchling area where a freshly killed steer awaited the baby dragon. She would be eating constantly for the next several months as her dragon parents instilled in them all their knowledge and taught her to fly. Once she achieved this milestone, the new dragon and rider pair would be sent to the Capital Weir for more instruction, on flying, fighting, spell use, teleporting, and more before they would be allowed to go back to Draden Weir.

  “Come on, my friend. It’s time to celebrate. I have the ale ready,” Bkert said to Mkel, beaming his toothy smile. Mkel and his friend then proceeded to the Atlean Weir tavern to toast new life and new magic.

  A month had passed since Crystinj’s bonding before General Becknor and Michenth called for the weirs to gather for the strike. Gallanth emerged in the dim twilight off the west shore of the prison island with the Draden Weir council mounts and the ranger platoon closely spaced around him. It was almost totally dark, as the west coast was several hours behind Draden, but they already had their dragonstone mithril crystal visors on to allow them to see in the limited visibility. The early winter ocean breeze was cold, but Mkel’s heating crystal in the back of his jacket quickly warmed him. He and Gallanth had not yet put their shields up, for they wanted to conserve strength for the attack. Valianth and the Capital Wing were already assembled and in the center of the massive formation. Mkel looked all around them as the weirs’ wings were starting to form up.

  They had to turn to the left to get in beside the Eladran and High Mountain Weir dragon squadrons, as the other weirs shifted to the right. There were over two hundred dragons in the air and thousands of smaller flying mounts from the aerial legion and all the weirs’ smaller flying battalions or squadrons. Draden’s contingent was the smallest by far, with Rom and Rem Weirs’ being just slightly larger. However, Mkel knew his weir was the most feared because of the power of Gallanth, his crossbow, and his council members with their dragonstone weapons. Mkel looked at the images his seeing crystal projected of the massive size of this formation. He had never seen this many dragons in the air ready for battle at one time in his life. He felt that they could just fly to Aserghul and wipe it off the face of the earth, that nothing could stand up to this assembled force.

  Becknor’s call from atop Valianth behind Therosvet woke him from his thoughts. The image of the area above the ocean off the coast of Shidan came through the crystal. There was a covert section of boats, manned by a select group of some of the navy’s best sailors and trident naval infantry, floating in that particular part of the ocean. As soon as the images were acknowledged across th
e formation, the whole aerial strike force teleported out. They all emerged in the predawn dark over the ocean. Mkel immediately noted the temperature difference in this part of the world, so far east and south. All the dragons immediately raised their shields and became invisible. They extended their protection and cloaking to all around them. Mkel could see the Alliance spy boats below him, and then he looked through Markthrea’s sight toward the distant Shidanese coastline. He could see the torches on the defensive ramparts and walls along the mouth of the Sigrit River that led a hundred miles to the Shidanese capital Dagrad.

  Becknor quickly signaled everyone that he was about to give his last instructions. He verified that Draden, Eladran, and High Mountain were going to strike the Black Scarab fortress far to the north, the Capital Wing and Aerial squadrons were hitting the palace and Shidanese army forts in Dagrad, and all remaining weirs were to reduce the coastal defenses.”

  “Men, Women, and Dragons of the Weirs, I need not give you a motivating or inspiring speech, for you all know what needs to be done. We are here for our brothers and sisters felled by the cowardly daggers of black-robed assassins and their allies. Retribution is our mission, and now they will learn why it is they fear the light. After your attacks culminate, we will all rendezvous on the plain in front of the Scarab fortress. We will regroup from there. Good hunting, and may the Creator give speed to our victory,” Becknor stated, and then the whole of the Capital Wing and aerial legion vanished in a quick blue flash. Mkel looked over at Lordan and nodded, and then he turned his head right to see his friend Slidess on his silver dragon Trikenth. His High Mountain Weirleader friend raised his wizard’s staff in acknowledgement of his unspoken message.

  Mkel could feel the warmer ocean breeze on his face through Gallanth’s shield. All seemed almost calm before the deadly storm they were about to deliver, but then he refocused on the task at hand and took in the images the shadow rangers had sent them on their seeing crystals. Gallanth ensured everyone had the proper image, and in a second, they were gone.

  They emerged over the desert in front of the Fire Mountains with the large sprawling Black Scarab fortress a few miles in front of them. They quickly re-cloaked so as not to tip off the tower guards or any shepherds in the area. Gallanth immediately ordered everyone to their assigned sectors, “Talonth, your weir can move in from the left and strike; eliminate the southern wall and second tower of the keep. Trikenth, move in from the right, and make sure to hit the barracks and stables as you destroy the wall. Draden will level the front gate and main part of the wall, and then we will all circle the central keep and twin minarets and grind them to dust. Our rangers and your hippogriffs and griffons will keep any manticores that are able to get airborne away from the dragons. If there aren’t any questions, luck to you all.”

  Mkel looked over to Lordan and gave him a quick salute, and then he shifted his gaze to Slidess, who nodded in acknowledgement.

  At that, the other two weirs peeled off, as the translucent distortions created by their invisibility shields made them almost impossible to see unless one could see the heat they gave off or used a detection spell as dragons could. Mkel grabbed his seeing crystal and began to speak to his weir. “Heathiret, you and Caraeyeth destroy the tower on the left and anyone on the wall. Jodem, Dekeen, take out the right tower and the top of the wall beside it. Gallanth, Dorin, and I will destroy the gate doors and the adjacent towers. Lupek, have your rangers rain down on any soldiers or assassins beyond the front wall. We will then form up tightly and strike the palace and keep with everything we have, as will Eladran and High Mountain. We’ll then fly over the palace heading west while our sister weirs break in opposite directions. If somebody goes down, Lupek, your recovery team goes into action. If too many go down, we will swing back and extract them, for nobody here wants to become a Shidanese prisoner, trust us. Best of luck, my friends,” Mkel directed his weir.

  “Hamshed, another day of watching the empty desert,” the Black Scarab soldier said to his friend as they stood on the main gate tower.

  “The emir knows of something in our victorious brothers having slain the devil riders in the cursed Alliance. I know my cousin’s dagger must have pierced the infidel heart of one of them before he achieved martyrdom. But here we stand to watch over our own lands, without the pleasure of drawing non-Kallysh blood, and—wait, what is that in the sky?” the assassin apprentice started to shout when three wings of metallic dragons led by the gigantic Gallanth materialized out of thin air. They were already diving on the Scarab fortress, and fear overwhelmed the would-be assassins. “By Kallysh, warn the brothers! The demons are attacking us; how will we survive this?” the assassin soldier screamed out in fear, awestruck by the sight of the dozens of dragons and hundreds of other winged mounts bearing down on them.

  All three wings turned off the invisibility power of their shields about a mile from the fortress, much to the shock of the unprepared defenders on the walls and towers. Dozens started to scramble to get to their ballistae and archery points on the defensive works. This was a futile effort at best given the power that would soon be unleashed on them.

  “Sorcerer, there are dozens of Alliance dragons bearing down on us as we speak. You need to call on your dragons and reinforcements, for we will not survive this onslaught,” the bearded assassin guild master hurriedly explained to the Morgathian sorcerer Vorten.

  “Three wings!” the young sorcerer exclaimed out loud as he quickly cast a seeing-eye spell that darted out of the palace and into the courtyard. He then saw the three groups of metallics fast approaching the outer walls of the guild city. This was a no-win scenario for him, and he didn’t want to end up like his friend Harfrac. “Master Assassin, you are correct; I must go and call for our squadrons of dragons waiting in the mountains. I must get out in back of the palace first to my nightmare mount,” he quickly stated, as he grabbed his scrolls, book, and staff and ran toward the rear exit of the inner fortress. Once at his mount, he threw all he was carrying into the satchels, jumped up onto the evil demon horse, and spurred it to quickly move forward. He knew he had to get out fast but not too fast, so as not to attract attention to himself. The metallics might dispel his steed’s ability to teleport away. He forced the ebony mount to run along the ground until he reached the outer wall, then it darted over the top of the thick, twenty-foot-tall structure, and he teleported out of sight.

  The black-robed guild master couldn’t believe his eyes at the cowardly sorcerer fleeing for his life, but his attention shifted as several large explosions could be heard from the outer wall of the fortress. Gallanth fired a sunburst beam that eliminated all on the top of the left tower beside the gate and sent splintered bricks flying. Mkel aimed just a little high and fired his first explosive-tipped bolt at the right tower and then quickly fired two more as Gallanth let loose a plasma fireball at the large, heavy gate doors. The fiery sphere of destructive energy blew the doors almost off their mounts, while Mkel’s bolts exploded and destroyed everything on top of the tower. The scarab soldiers had just been aiming their ballista at him and his dragon when they hit. Caraeyeth focused, and then with her eyes flashing, she breathed out a bluish, spiraling burst of energy at the corner tower. Her powerful shatter spell struck the mid part of the tower, which absorbed its energy for a second and then burst apart, sending rock and pieces of the mud-brick walls flying in all directions. The whole structure of the tower then collapsed. Dekeen and Jodem made short work of the top of the tower on the right.

  The other two wings overwhelmed the defenders on the towers and wall of the north and south portions of the fortress, as all were quickly converging on the palace and keep. Almost in unison, the breath weapons of forty dragons bombarded the palace structure, coupled with the explosive force of weapons like Mkel’s Markthrea, Dekeen’s Elm, and the force of dozens of energy bolts and powerful spells from the wizards and riders among them. This quickly brought the medium-sized structur
e to rubble. The brilliant explosions and deadly energy of the combined power of the three weirs almost rocked the very ground as debris filled the air and scattered all over the land near the area where the palace once stood.

  “I curse you, Morgathian cowards, infidels, traitors! May Kallysh be prais—l” the Black Scarab assassin leader screamed as the ceiling and walls of his palace collapsed, silencing his rant. The dragons performed a highly precise maneuver and crisscrossed their flight paths, passing over the crumbling fortress. A few remaining defenders tried to fire arrows and one or two ballista spears at them, but to no consequence. After a few more passes, the whole of the small city was in ruins, with all but what they thought were the slaves’ quarters either destroyed or in flames. All organized resistance was quickly squashed, and Gallanth ordered all the dragons to land just in front of the now-crumbled gate. He directed the rangers and other forces from Eladran and High Mountain to land and move through the fortress to look for survivors and release any slaves they could find.

  Within a couple of minutes, the Capital Wing, along with the entire aerial legion teleported in above the ruined fortress and began to land beside the three weirs already on the ground. The very ground seemed to shake with the landing impact of all those silver and gold dragons, as well as the back-wing flaps of over a thousand large, feathered mounts. The dust and sand kicked up was almost like a small sandstorm. All then dismounted, and the Capital Wing dragonriders walked over to Mkel, Lordan, and Slidess, as the remainder checked their gear and tended to the few wounded they had. “I see your attack was a success; the cowardly assassins and their fortress are no more,” General Becknor remarked as he walked up to them.

  “And what of the palace at Dagrad?” Lordan asked.

  “It is in just slightly better shape than the assassins’ former stronghold. Their manticores did put up a slight bit of resistance, but it was short-lived, and many cowardly soon fled. Pursuing them was harder than fighting them,” Therosvet replied. “We are not sure if King Ibliss survived, but we do know that most of his division stationed around the city did not.” At the moment, the other eight weirs teleported in from their combined attack on the Shidanese coastal and river fortifications; however, General Becknor did not miss a beat and turned to Valianth.