Slyvar was attempting to limp away toward the southwest when the pair of land dragons caught up to him. The injured black chromatic turned to face them, knowing he could not outrun the land-bound Alliance dragons, and there was no lake or river in sight to dive into. He was only seven or eight yards longer than the land dragons and not much stronger, especially being as wounded as he was from the fight with the metallics. He was just about to spit a stream of his vile burning acid when two ballistae spears struck him in the side and upper back. Both spears penetrated the armored black hide, being fired at not more than one hundred yards; close range for the large weapons.
The black dragon then rose up and unleashed a stream of fiery acid at the land dragon on the left. He fired it at the extreme end of his range and was surprised to see the wingless dragons react quickly, with both breathing their jets of fire to block the acid stream. The land dragons then closed in on him in seconds, with their crews holding on hard from the rapid movement. They were bounced around by their mounts running at their top speed, which was just over what a good horse can do. They then split and went to opposite sides of the chromatic to bait it and keep it off guard.
“Come, wingless worms, and face the ferocity of Slyvar,” the black dragon boasted. Then one of the land dragons made a false lunge and backed off just as the black dragon attempted to strike with its jaws and sharp bull-like horns. The land dragon on the opposite side then quickly moved in and clamped down on the chromatic’s dark shoulder. As Slyvar turned his head around to counterstrike the land dragon, its wingman then lunged quickly and bit down on the black’s neck. The two land dragons shook the chromatic, forcing it to its belly and raking it with their front claws. This was enough to finish off the wounded black. Both land dragons raised their heads and bellowed out their victory roars, with a tinge of pride at bringing down a chromatic, most of which referred to their breed as inferior.
“Excellent job, my little brothers,” Strikenth roared down to the victorious land dragons, as he and Padonan circled back toward the fighting. The pair had quickly flown to intercept the fleeing Slyvar and help the land dragons defeat him, but they happily did not need their assistance. Gallanth had flown toward the dwindling aerial battle and fired a sunburst beam, killing one of the last manticores that the Battle Point hippogriffs hadn’t caught yet.
Below, Ashram’s army was starting to break. All the behirs were now slain, as were all the giants, save the one that was captured. The Talon sorcerer himself was finally deciding to get involved in the fight by firing a lightning bolt at a land dragon. The searing charged beam knocked it down from the impact but did not kill it. Upon seeing the destruction of two wings of chromatics, including a red demon dragon, the whole giant clan, and his entire battalion of behirs, he was also having second thoughts. His cavalry was also crushed, as he apparently underestimated the prowess and coordination of his Battle Point opponents. The orc and Morgathian infantry were being routed as well. He now stood alone and rationalized to himself that it was time leave versus actually fighting the Alliance forces to attempt to save the remainder of his army.
The two silver dragons joined Gallanth and the Draden Weir group in the air above the battle, as the remaining hippogriffs began to perform diving attacks against the remnants of Ashram’s army. “Talonth, Strikenth, help the hippogriffs cut off the sorcerer’s army’s retreat, and destroy it if they don’t surrender. The sorcerer Ashram is still very dangerous, and your shields are down,” Gallanth directed the two silvers as they nodded in acknowledgement. “Jodem, shall we have a talk with the good Talon sorcerer?” he continued with a more upbeat tone. Jodem nodded and smiled at the gold dragon’s invitation. Mkel could tell that Gallanth was getting tired. Two major battles back to back, and against such formidable foes, were taking a toll on the large gold dragon. He knew Gallanth wanted this battle over.
Mkel cocked Markthrea and loaded a mithril-tipped exploding bolt to deal maximum damage to the sorcerer’s magic shield. “We’re going after the Morgathian sorcerer,” Mkel shouted back to Ordin.
“Good, I enjoy seeing sorcerers crushed almost as much as giants. No harm intended to Master Jodem,” Ordin said with a smile as Mkel looked back at him.
“No harm taken, my friend,” Mkel said back. Toderan, Lupek, and Dekeen were following Gallanth and Jodem on their mounts, as they all streamed toward the hovering nightmare. Ashram saw the approaching group and quickly summoned up a spell from his dark crystal-powered staff. Just as Gallanth fired a sunburst beam, Ashram let loose a meteor storm spell. The powerful, glowing fiery projectiles and the intense light beam passed each other with blinding speed. The sunburst beam struck Ashram’s shield with a terrific explosion.
Ashram’s fiery meteors streaked toward the gold dragon, who took the first hit with his shield and then began to turn, roll, and twirl in the air to dodge the eighteen follow-on fiery projectiles. Only five more hit his shield, with the rest sizzling past him. His magical barrier still held firm.
“Toderan, Tegent, bank to the right; Dekeen and Lupek, go to the left. We will slow him down and prevent him from teleporting out,” Mkel said into his crystal to his comrades. He knew they couldn’t catch a nightmare, but a winged horse and a giant eagle could at least match its speed and prevent him from turning away from his dragon. Gallanth was gaining on him, however.
“Mkel, we need to take him alive if possible. We must get to the bottom of this increase in aggression,” Jodem’s voice came through Mkel’s crystal.
“If we can, my friend,” Mkel answered.
As Gallanth was gaining on the sorcerer’s nightmare, he roared an antimagic spell to prevent him from teleporting, although Ashram might be powerful enough to overcome this spell lock, given enough time. Ashram looked back at the pursuing gold dragon, who was now only one hundred yards away. Gallanth summoned up his barrage fireball spell and raised his left front talon, opening his claws, upon which six fireballs formed and streaked out in succession.
Ashram’s nightmare dodged the first one by veering hard to the left. He could feel the heat from the flaming projectile as it streamed past him. He couldn’t move too far to either side, for he saw the two mounted flyers on both his flanks start to box him in. The second fireball barely missed the demon horse, but as Gallanth was leading the banking nightmare, the third projectile hit the sorcerer’s shield with a glancing blow. The fourth fireball struck the magic shield directly, and Ashram shuddered from the impact. The fifth fireball hit his shield and shattered it, bursting through the invisible force field and striking the hindquarter of the nightmare and singeing Ashram’s robes. Nightmares possessed very tough hide that was very fire resistant but not fireproof.
“Mkel, down the demon horse with Markthrea,” Gallanth said to him.
“No problem, my friend,” Mkel answered as he removed the exploding-tip magazine from the crossbow and loaded his standard bolts. He took aim through Markthrea’s sight and locked onto the undulating nightmare. The demon horse was very agile and a difficult target. He lined the crosshair in the lead aiming circle and fired, but at the last second, he slipped the sight reticule just outside the circle in his scope. The bolt launched from the crossbow and streaked by the right side of the black steed, missing it by a couple of inches. Take your time, my rider, I know you can hit it, Gallanth encouraged Mkel telepathically.
Mkel cocked the crossbow and bore down on the comb of the stock, ensuring a good cheek to stock weld, and acquired a good sight picture with Markthrea’s reticle. He moved the crosshairs into the circle to adjust for the lead, carefully gripped the stock with his left hand, and put the pad of his trigger finger on the surface of light trigger. This time he kept the crosshair still and let the black demon horse veer into his sight picture. He then pulled the trigger back in a smooth even motion and fired, taking extra precaution to extend his follow through. The bolt struck the nightmare’s hindquarter, burrowing deep insid
e the tough pitch-colored hide. The sorcerer’s steed was flipped sideways from the impact of the lightning fast quarrel, which apparently did a great deal of damage.
Mkel cocked Markthrea and took aim again, giving it a little more lead, and fired. In spite of being wounded, the nightmare was still fairly maneuverable and fast. He had better luck this time, however, and the bolt struck the nightmare’s left rib cage after going through the calf of Ashram’s left leg. He could hear the sorcerer scream in pain immediately following the roar-like whinny of the nightmare, as the bolt likely punctured its lungs. It immediately began a forceful descent, with the dying demon horse barely maintaining controlled flight. They then crashed onto the grassy plain, with the Talon sorcerer being thrown from his mount and tumbling head over heels before coming to a halt.
Ashram raised himself to his knees by leaning on his staff. Blood was rushing from the wound on his left calf, and the bolt likely had broken one or both of the bones in his leg. Gallanth back winged hard and landed with a terrific thud, almost knocking the Morgathian sorcerer back to the ground. Jodem’s eagle landed beside Gallanth, as soon as he furled his wings. Mkel and Jodem dismounted. Gallanth watched the sorcerer with a careful eye, in case he tried to cast a spell. As soon as Mkel slid off of his dragon’s front forearm, he leveled his crossbow on Ashram.
Their comrades landed within seconds as the two griffons, eagle, and winged horse set down. “What’s the matter, sorcerer? I’m still waiting for you to take care of us. Amazing how the mighty fall,” Mkel mocked Ashram’s threat from the beginning of the battle. Ashram scowled as he leaned against his staff. “Now that you are a little subdued, what was your objective for this attack? You come here with so powerful a force, although not so much anymore,” he taunted the sorcerer.
“Ashram, if you cooperate with us, you will be treated fairly according to Alliance justice,” Jodem said, stepping in with his staff slightly glowing to cast a counterspell if necessary.
“Alliance justice? I want none of your mercy or your republic. You will only feel our wrath,” the sorcerer lashed back.
“Then it is justice you shall receive for the death and misery you caused today,” Toderan spoke as he raised his holy sword, dragonstone glowing.
“Hah, I dismiss your intent, paladin,” Ashram spat back, preparing to cast a spell.
“You will be persuaded to help us before justice is administered to you, dark sorcerer. We will see to it,” Gallanth’s booming voice emanated from above the group. The sorcerer’s expression suddenly changed after Gallanth’s words. He knew no one could lie in the presence of a gold dragon.
“Death is coming soon to you all,” he quipped as he drew a dagger from his robes, sliced his own hand, and grabbed the dark crystal mounted on top of his staff.
“Mkel, fire!” Jodem yelled. Mkel quickly took an instant sight picture, putting the crosshairs on the black robes of the sorcerer, firing as they filled his sight picture. The bolt struck the sorcerer’s shoulder just as he vanished.
“Jodem, how did he break Gallanth’s spell?” Mkel asked.
“Dark crystal can be temporarily empowered by the sacrifice of a part of the user’s life force. It wasn’t just blood that Ashram offered the stone. It was years off of his life. They can only do this on extreme circumstances, for it will eventually lead to their early death or worse. The conversion into an undead lich, for Tiamat’s blood that empowers the dark crystal stones is as evil and demanding as the arch dragon herself,” the wizard explained.
“He and his ilk are only concerned about the present and their own power, wealth, and influence. They do not care about the future,” Dekeen lamented.
“One step closer to shaking the talons of Tiamat, or becoming a lich or shadow, dependent on blood to sustain their tortured life,” Tegent said with his normal cheerful smile, referring to the sorcerer’s hastened path to his own demise by selling his life force to his evil crystal.
“I just hope he didn’t see how we teleported the legion in. I don’t want our edge compromised to the Morgathians. I know he witnessed the defeat of the behirs by the land dragons as well as the sudden appearance of three of the most powerful dragons in the Alliance,” Mkel said.
“I think he was mostly attempting to direct his forces by himself during the battle, and they were taken by surprise by the Battle Point legion. I’m sure he did not see Talonth and Strikenth teleport them here, for he was too busy torturing those legionnaires,” Lupek chimed in.
“You’re right, but I just wish we could have let Gallanth and Jodem work him over for the information he likely had, regarding these scaled-up operations as of late. Maybe he knew something about the gathering you saw in the Smoking Mountains,” Mkel explained.
“In either event, all we can do now is help General Daddonan and our dragonrider friends complete the destruction of the sorcerer’s army,” Toderan spoke up, always with his no-nonsense comments.
“As always, my good paladin, you are correct. Let’s get in the air,” Mkel directed. They all gave him a quick nod and moved back to their mounts. As soon as they were ready, the others moved away from Gallanth, and they took to the sky. When all was clear, the big dragon took a couple of steps and launched into the air with a whirlwind of dust, grass, and debris in the wake of his immense wings. They quickly caught up to their friends, and Gallanth and Mkel led them back to the dwindling battle.
Ashram emerged from teleport in the courtyard of his and Lodar’s shared fortress on the northwestern border of Morgathia. He collapsed from his wounds and the energy that his dark crystal took from him to break Gallanth’s antimagic spell. At his pain-ridden call, several servants rushed to his aid, for the hole in his lower leg was still bleeding and the crossbow bolt that Mkel fired as he teleported out had pierced his upper right shoulder. Another inch or two to the left, and it would have likely killed him.
The slave servants carried him into the fortress hallway and laid him down on the large dining table. A Morgathian cleric came over to him and began to treat his wounds. Lodar soon came into the hall and over to the injured sorcerer. “Ashram, I see you ran into a little trouble,” the warlord said with a sinister smile across his scarred face.
“Careful, death knight, I am not so injured that I couldn’t cast you into oblivion,” Ashram snapped angrily.
“I guess this means that you lost the fight with the Alliance legion,” Lodar chided.
“They were heavily reinforced!” the sorcerer yelled back at him through his pain.
“I sent you two wings of chromatics, almost a third of our total dragons, led by a demon red no less, and what returns with you,” Lodar chided back.
“They had two large silvers and a huge gold dragon that came out of nowhere, along with an Alliance wizard of considerable power. There were a strong group of allies that had dragonstone weapons. It is as if they knew we were coming, and the legion appeared right in front of my army. A whole legion, well rested and ready to fight,” he rambled on. “Ahhhhhhrrrr, fool!” he screamed as the cleric pulled the bolt out of his shoulder; the sorcerer responded by firing a magic missile into his chest, blowing him back against the wall and killing him instantly. He looked at the other two clerics and scowled, “You’d better be more careful, and get my private stock of Alliance aloras.” The two remaining clerics cautiously cast a healing spell over the sorcerer, stemming the blood flow, and then gingerly placed bandages on the wounds.
“Get me wine now,” he shouted at one of the dozen or so slaves in the room, who immediately ran out toward the pantry.
“We will have to modify our methods for our plans along their eastern border,” Lodar surmised.
“Yes, we have much to talk about, but I need rest first, so leave me now,” the sorcerer ordered.
“The whole army, giant clan, and two wings of chromatics, Ashram; the Talon Covenant will not be pleased at you
r incompetence, and I guess your little back-scratcher Fellaxe did not perform to measure. I also see your dark crystal is taking its toll,” Lodar sniped, referring to his skin, which was showing signs of mummification, as Ashram weakly raised his staff, the dark crystal glowing. “All right, I’m leaving, heal well, my lord. I must tend to what army we have left,” he said sarcastically as he hurriedly exited the room.
“I will see him eat those words, arrogant warlord,” Ashram said to himself as his servants nervously escorted him to his chambers.
Talonth and Strikenth were performing crisscross strafing attacks, freeze shattering dozens of orcs and Morgathian infantry, aided by the blasts from Lordan’s lance. Padonan’s glaive was also slicing through the ranks with each pass. The Battle Point legionnaires had broken their lines, and they were in a hasty retreat, with some still fighting, and others fleeing.
Colonel Ronson yelled to the fleeing human troops in Morgathian to surrender, adding that they would be spared. Morgathian soldiers were indoctrinated from childhood that Tiamat was their god, and the members of the Talon Council were her high priests. The way of servitude, and unquestioned obedience, was what they demanded to maintain their power to keep the Alliance at bay. They were also told that those who surrendered to the Alliance were fed to the metallic dragons or tortured to death, and that their souls would be forever lost. This, for them, was easy to believe, for that was what was done to most prisoners taken by Morgathia. The families of those soldiers who surrender were also threatened and usually treated with enslavement and sacrifice to the chromatics. However, those who believed in the arch dragon queen that were sacrificed were immediately granted access to paradise, or that was what they are told from a young age. What problem this brought to the Alliance was that there were not many that readily surrendered, with most fighting to the death or usually taking their own lives.
Orcs, however, never surrendered, having a more insect-like obedience to their chieftain and queen, like a termite colony. Quarter was rarely given for prisoners, who were usually eaten but occasionally sold as slaves. The exception to this rule was the hierorcs, who possessed greater intelligence, or at least greater cunning, and surrendered on a rare circumstance.
Dragon Alliance: Rise Against Shadow Page 43