Dragon Alliance Dark Storm : Dark Storm (48 page)

Gallanth’s angry roar was accentuated by the powerful plasma fireball, which sent the remaining berserker white dragon smoldering into a death spiral. With this, the other three remaining white dragons quickly veered away from Gallanth to return to the main battle, for they knew they had no chance against this powerful foe now that all the berserker dragons in their ranks were defeated and the wheel attack formation was broken.

“Clear your head before we go back into battle, my friend. That was a difficult fight; the wounds on your back and sides prove it,” Mkel said to his dragon.

“Yes, my rider, but we lost a brother to those mindless vermin. He and his rider will be avenged,” Gallanth replied as he slowly angled toward the main group of dragons fighting above the mountains.

“Yes, and they will, but you need another gemstone and I need to reload Markthrea and stage more bolts. I have a feeling we will need them,” Mkel told Gallanth as he reached his hand out with a fist-sized rough ruby stone that the gold dragon then flicked up with his tongue and swallowed, sending it into his synthensium to recharge his breath weapons and magical powers. At that moment, they both heard the dying roar of a copper dragon as it was hit by the demon red dragons’ enhanced breath weapons.

“What a fight going on down there! We have to move to help our comrades now,” Lieutenant Howrek almost yelled with a nervous anticipation.

“No, Lieutenant, our orders are to hold this pass. If we leave and those bastards send even a battalion through here, they could tear down the whole defense formation of the legions!” Pekram exclaimed forcefully.

“Senior Sergeant, the fight is down there, and we need to go to it!” the lieutenant argued.

“No, our orders stand, we wait here until we’re told to move either by Captain Mkel, through Colonel Lordan, or the 29
th
Legion commander,” Lieutenant Ablich stated, in his capacity as executive officer of the weir garrison.

“Wait! All of you listen!” Dorin’s gruff voice silenced all around him as he knelt down, putting his mithril ax on the ground, and gently placed his ear on the broken rock surface of the pass they were on. “Giants are approaching, at least a company with a battalion with them, and I believe those snake dragons as well,” he said as he got up grasping his ax, a smile across his red-bearded face.

“He is correct. I hear them now, a thousand yards down the trail around that bend,” one of Dekeen’s elves spoke up as he drew an arrow from his quiver.

“All right, you apes, battle formation, crossbowmen and archers ready. Infantry platoons, lock shields at the top of the shallow trench the sappers have created and orient your spears accordingly. Force the enemy to attack you uphill,” Pekram yelled out and into his seeing crystal.

“Pekram, hold the infantry line. I will coordinate with Gemorg’s and Hartsean’s shooters as well as the land dragons. We’ll hold as they approach, and once they are in full view from that bend in the trail, we’ll have them in a crossfire. I’ll hold Lenor and his knights in reserve just in case they break through us. Lawrent, take your raiders to our right flank and spread them up the side of the mountain like Captain Mkel directed, to give those sharpshooters backup in case they need your swords. Otherwise, if we repel this attack, you will be our initial exploitation force,” Ablich ordered. All nodded in agreement. By this time, the gnoll scouts of the Morgathian force were moving fast around the bend in the pass and saw the Draden combined garrison. As they turned to go back to their warlord, several well-placed crossbow bolts and elf arrows streamed out and found their mark, downing them all either as they turned or as they attempted to run away. None made it back, a first small victory attesting to the value of Mkel’s sharpshooter squad and Dekeen’s elves.

In seeing his gnoll scouts shot down just before the bend in the trail, the Morgathian battalion commander assessed that the Alliance battle line must be just at that point or right behind it. “A critical mistake to place their men there, for they cannot use the longer range of their bows to their advantage now, fools,” he said to himself. “This will be an easy fight.” He then ordered his archers, both human and orc, to advance to the front of his column, even ahead of the giants, to answer the Alliance archers. While he knew they had range on him, if he could get to within a hundred yards, his archers could rain down on them; they likely only had a company defending this pass. “Soften them up. Beat them at their own game with their so superior archers, and let the giants and behirs break their infantry line. Then my men and orcs will finish off the remainder,” he said to himself.

He screamed at his subordinate leaders to force the archers forward and run to the bend in the pass where they were to begin to fire immediately. At sword and spear point, the lightly armored archers ran to the place they were directed, but as soon as the barely organized mob of bowmen rounded the trail, they saw the Alliance battle line well over three hundred yards away and took the brunt of the one hundred and forty elf arrows and weir garrison bolts. This initial barrage raked their ranks killing or wounding over a hundred of them, a third of their members. They began to return volley, but the Alliance soldiers were almost out of their range, and the Morgathian and orc arrows that did manage to make their targets were bouncing off of the shields of the infantry and the dwarves.

The Draden Weir’s crossbowmen were firing from the top of the rocky dirt mound that the sappers had pushed up from the trench in front of them and were covered to the top by the infantrymen’s shields, a solid and well-covered firing position. This, coupled with their new, powerful repeating crossbows, which they could fire from the prone position, made them an even smaller target. The elves simply took cover behind the shields of Ordin’s dwarves when a Morgathian volley came in, but as their arrows were much slower, they could almost dodge them just as well.

The exchange wasn’t going well for the Morgathian archers, and their numbers were dwindling rapidly. The death knights and orc chieftains pushed their archers forward almost at a run to get them more in range to hit their Alliance counterparts, but as they moved closer, the Alliance arrows and crossbow fire became more accurate and deadlier. Gemorg’s and Hartsean’s squad was downing a Morgathian or orc with almost every shot, and they were firing five to ten bolts a minute. The weir’s shooters and elves were doing almost as well, and by the time the remaining Morgathian and orc archers were just over fifty yards away, the last one fell.

This enraged the Morgathian warlord, and he ordered an all-out charge of all his reinforced battalion, which broke into an open run as they rounded the bend of the pass. This shortened the time in which they were exposed to the deadly Alliance fire, but it was a turkey shoot for the crossbowmen and elf archers. As soon as the Morgathians broke around the bend, Pekram’s booming voice shouted out, “Fire at will!” and all of the garrison and the sharpshooters began to fire rapidly. Hitting a target was not an issue with the wall of enemy sprinting their way and the large targets the giants made. The orcs were easy prey as their armor was weak, and the Morgathian infantry chain mail wasn’t overly difficult to penetrate either. Only the death knights’, fire giants’, and the behirs’ armored hide proved hard to penetrate, but not impossible.

The Morgathian commander did use a somewhat smart tactic by putting the dozen or more fire giants near the front of his charge, for they were the most resistant to Alliance arrows. Even the elf and heavy crossbow bolts of Gemorg’s men were lucky to penetrate the weak point of armor on the giants, so Ablich and Pekram told them to concentrate their fire on the common giants and the orc and Morgathian infantry. Dozens started to fall every few seconds as the Morgathians charged, almost to the point where they had to leap and almost climb over the dead and injured in front of them. Wheelor’s ballista gunners were firing as fast as they could at the giants and had taken down eight common giants and one fire giant; however, there was still a substantial force coming at them.

As soon as the enemy was within one hundred yards of the Draden Weir battle line, Ordin smiled and with a gruff whisper in dwarvish, sent his hammer hurtling toward the lead fire giant. The mithril war hammer crackled with energy as it tumbled end over end and then struck the fire giant in the chest, crumpling his thick blackened-steel breastplate. The force of the impact and the energy transferred into the giant’s body lifted the nine-thousand-pound brute off his feet, even amidst his rapid charge, and threw him ten feet to the rear. The monster knocked over one of his kin and then crushed several black-chain-mail-clad Morgathian infantry and orcs as it landed. Ordin had taken his slaying strike early to break up the Morgathian charge, and the gamble paid off, for now they were moving unevenly and would hit the weir line piecemeal.

As Donnac returned to his waiting hand, Breigor and the other four land dragons breathed out a blast of fire that incinerated all around the fire giants at the head of the charge. This also allowed another well-aimed volley of arrows and bolts to slay the next rank of Morgathians and orcs behind the ones that were in flames. The behirs tried to fire back, but they couldn’t get clear shots, as they were blocked by the giants and infantry in front of them, and when they did use their lightning-bolt breath weapons, they singed many of their own troops trying to hit the land dragons.

Wheelor had his crews fire one more round of ballista spears at the giants and behirs and then prepare for close combat. He knew this would be a tough fight for his land dragons and crews and whispered a quick prayer as his gunners sighted up on a target and fired. He stared down the weir’s battle line looking for Ordin, who was already staring at him. He didn’t even have to call him on his seeing crystal, for the stout dwarf clan leader knew what they were about to do and nodded. Upon seeing that, Wheelor spoke out to Mateolex mounted on Strongst on the opposite side of the line to move out with their land dragons. The coordination between the two land dragon pairs would be crucial here, he thought, as he cocked his hand crossbow and loaded a packet of small bolts into the well of the elf-crafted instrument. Breigor tensed as he roared out a challenge to the giants that were charging toward them, Valkuran right on his flank.

Ordin turned and ordered his specially trained squad to follow him, as he looked to Dorin, who opened up a hole in the tightly packed dwarf defender line. He raised his hammer and shouted in dwarvish, “Death to the giants! Death to the orcs!” as he slid down the earthen trench in front of them and quickly scrambled up the other side swatting aside any orcs that stood in his way. They then sprinted over to Breigor and Valkuran and began to jog in between the two land dragons.

Wheelor was glad to have the dwarf giant-killer team with him, for Ordin’s prowess in slaying the brutes was well known. Having the dwarves around him and his dragons would also make a target of them as well, knowing the giant hatred of the dwarves.
No
matter,
this
is
their
moment
of
truth,
he thought. His crews prepared to fire one more time as they charged while they were also getting their spears and individual weapons ready for the close fight.

The two land dragons bellowed out their challenge roars as the ballistae fired and Ordin’s hammer crackled toward their respective targets. The spear-sized arrows struck two common giants directly in the torso causing them to step back from their charge, and the dragonstone-powered war hammer hit a fire giant in the shoulder, spinning the brute around and forcing it to its knees. Wheelor spoke into his seeing crystal to direct the land dragon crews to choose their targets and attack in coordination. He hooked his thick belt to the clasp attached to the armored carriage by a flex rope on Breigor’s back, as did all the crew for the close fight was a very bumpy ride. He took a quick aim and shot an orc that was too close to his dragon and then quickly recocked it.

Valkuran lunged at a common giant who was too slow to hit her head with its club and was met by her fangs sinking into its shoulder and forcing it to the ground. She then stepped on the screaming brute and raked it with her front claws rendering it incapacitated. Breigor faced down a fire giant that had its huge flaming sword drawn. While the giant races prized their incredible strength, they nowhere near possessed the physical power of a land dragon. The fire giant’s swing just missed the dragon’s head. Breigor quickly lowered it and then lunged forward. While he missed the bite, he still knocked the reddish-black armored giant back and out of sword range. He then swung around and knocked a common giant down with a tail sweep that buckled his knees and caused his body to slam to the ground with a loud thud.

The dwarves immediately moved in and delivered several critical blows to the giant’s head and neck resulting in a slow death for the brute.
Very
fast
and
efficient
, Wheelor thought for a brief second before going back to the task at hand with the fire giant, who lunged forward for another swing. The reddish-black brute’s sword just barely cut the land dragon’s hide on the shoulder. It was not a solid sword strike and the giant paid for the blow with Breigor’s front right claw tearing into its black chain-mail armor and slashing its side and abdomen. The large land dragon then clamped down on the giant’s left arm and swung the large creature around, sending him rolling end over end, dislocating his shoulder and breaking his arm in the process. As he scrambled to his feet, Breigor’s magic shield absorbed the impact of a lightning bolt fired from a charging behir.

The bluish snakelike dragon was quickly bathed in Breigor’s fire as it bellowed from his gaping jaws. The charred hide and flesh peeled off of the behir and knocked it off its many small feet as it rolled on the ground crushing over a dozen Morgathians and orcs in the process. Wheelor’s crew managed to fire a quick ballista shot at the fire giant, which struck him with full force in the upper abdomen and lower chest, the six-foot-long spear easily penetrating the giant’s armor at this close range. Unable to pull the protruding spear from his body, the fire giant lunged forward and raised his black-iron sword with one hand, in spite of his pain.