Dragon Alliance: Rise Against Shadow (52 page)

Mkel, fire an exploding bolt at the blue on the left to force him up
, Gallanth told his rider. Without hesitation, Mkel took aim and fired the bolt, aiming just under Klaxtor’s belly. The small projectile struck the dragon on the left front foot. While this did not do much damage, only injuring the blue’s talon, it forced Klaxtor up from the explosion. Gallanth then opened his massive jaws and fired a plasma fireball. The glowing fiery sphere of energy streaked toward Klaxtor and struck him squarely in the base of his neck. The blue dragon immediately fell out of formation from the impact; he was severely injured but was not yet felled.

Talonth emerged from behind Gallanth and fired an icy beam that struck Arathus on the right shoulder and flank, finishing him off. The dead blue nose-dived toward the earth, still smoldering from the hit from Gallanth, and the parts of his hide that were frozen solid by Talonth shattered and flew off of him as he fell.

Voltex immediately attempted to veer away from Gallanth before they met in midair for a tooth and claw fight, but Gallanth caught him and they exchanged slashes. Batuul took advantage of this and dove on Gallanth. The gold dragon’s unique power of foresight sensed this, and he tried to maneuver his hindquarter and tail away from the stream of fiery acid the vile black dragon spit at him. Only a small portion of the flaming virulent liquid hit his upper tail, which only circumvented Gallanth’s shield because Batuul flew within a couple of yards from him, but it still made him wince.

Getting this close to fire his acid cost the black dragon a high price. Gallanth whirled his huge tail around and struck the attacking chromatic with the hardened plate bone on the end of his tail, which both sliced into its lower back and flank and broke the smaller dragon’s rear right leg. Mkel quickly turned his crossbow’s swivel mount and fired an exploding-tipped bolt, striking Batuul’s right wing and side. Tegent, who had yelled to warn of the attacking black dragon, fired an arrow from his enhanced bow, which struck it on the opposite side. The arrow burrowed deep, transferring the energy given to it by his silver dragonstone into the evil beast.

Mkel quickly cocked his crossbow and fired another exploding-tipped bolt at the injured and fleeing black dragon, which hit it in the center of its lower back. The explosion finished Batuul off, and his power dive turned into a death fall.

Ashram observed the dragon fight, and to his horror, he saw the demon dragon and the other red fall. He had witnessed the power of gold and silver dragons as a young apprentice during the Great War, but they now seemed even stronger. Thurex did not even kill any of the silvers. He knew it was only a matter of time now until the other chromatics were vanquished, and this gold dragon seemed particularly powerful as well as huge.
The dragonriders give them a distinct edge. That must be their weak point. Kill them, and metallics won’t be quite as strong
, he thought to himself. “Togar!” he screamed into his dark crystal staff at the dragon spawn chieftain.

“Yes, my lord,” the man/dragon creature responded with its deep but raspy hissing voice.

“Bring your entire company to me, and tell that cowardly mountain giant to lead his pod to attack the legion’s right flank,” the sorcerer ordered.

“Ashram, their land dragons are not vanquished, and Grummel’s tribe has not arrived,” the mountain giant replied in an irritated tone, as he was beside Togar when Ashram signaled.

“Do as you’re told, or I will kill you myself,” Ashram ordered.

The giant grumbled and yelled over to the seven common giants congregating behind him, as he picked up his huge spiked mace and shield. The hundred or more dragon spawn creatures launched into the air, following their chieftain, who headed toward the hovering sorcerer’s nightmare steed.

Jodem had just finished off the last beholder. The sunburst ray from his staff blasted through the tentacle orb creature, sending it falling to the ground behind the line of soldiers, who were fighting for their lives. Just as he called over to Vatara, the sky erupted in the wing beats and war cries of the company of dragon spawn as they flew over the raging battlefield.
Why didn’t they attack the legion?
Jodem said to himself.
They must be going to help the chromatics
.
The dragonriders!
“Mkel, beware,” he said into his crystal. “There is a company of dragon spawn heading your way, and I think they are targeting you, Lordan, and Padonan.”

“Thanks for the warning, Jodem,” Mkel quickly answered through his seeing crystal.

Then deep echoes of the attacking giants rippled from behind the southern hills, signaling their advance. Jodem started to walk toward the point where the giants were going to come from, when Colonel Ponsellan ordered his reserve to commit and pushed his battalion forward in his personal attempt for glory in winning the battle. General Daddonan screamed through his seeing crystal for him to move back and re-form the line. Before the battalion could readjust, over forty orcs poured through the temporary seam between Ponsellan’s men and the adjacent battalion.

The orcs streamed through with weapons raised, screaming and running toward Jodem. The wizard turned and raised his staff, his ruby dragonstone glowing brightly. He uttered a few words in Draconic, and his staff emanated a light pulse that enveloped and stopped the first forty orcs that came through the break in the line. Their dark, sullen, insect-like eyes immediately unfixed, almost as in a trance. Jodem spoke in orc and commanded them, “Protect your sorcerer.” As the spell was taking effect, six other orcs from the back of the group ran around their charmed comrades and moved to attack the concentrating wizard.

General Daddonan and Colonel Sheer met them with swords drawn. Daddonan, in spite of being in his late fifties, was surprisingly spry, meeting the first orc with a swift blow to its side. His dragonstone-powered long sword crackled with electricity, which blew the orc to the ground, killing him instantly. Sheer swung his large mithril alloy two-handed sword hard down on the next orc, breaking his raised rusty scimitar and carving through its tattered chain mail vest, sundering the creature. The other four soon fell to their comrades’ swords.

“Thank you, gentlemen,” Jodem spoke to them as soon as he could break from the concentration of his spell.

“Master Wizard, you need a bodyguard for this fight in facing the giants,” Colonel Sheer said with concern.

“I have forty at present,” he said looking at the orcs, with the legionnaires fighting their comrades just behind them. “Now I must deal with the giants,” he continued.

“Colonel Ronson, send a land dragon team with the Draden wizard and his orcs to halt these big brutes,” General Daddonan ordered through his crystal.

“Your help is most appreciated, General,” Jodem said.

“Orcs?” Ronson said.

“Relax, Colonel. They belong to the Weir wizard now. Just send your dragons,” Daddonan said with a quick smile. “Now Master Wizard, I must deal with an errant, self-serving battalion commander.” He then walked over to the battle line. Colonel Ronson called through his seeing crystal to two land dragon crews, who immediately disengaged from the battle. They moved back and to the right to join Jodem and his newly acquired orc platoon as the squad of giants, along with a couple of gnolls and orcs, emerged from behind the small hills to the south. The remaining land dragons readjusted to close the gap in the Alliance line. The Battle Point infantry were finally pushing the orcs and Morgathian infantry back. The odds were now more than evened up, in spite of three points in the line that had broken into open melee.

“Fight, you dogs!” Barlog screamed at his last line of orc reserves as he pushed them forward at the point of his axe. At twenty years old, he was considered middle aged for an orc, but he was very combat experienced in fighting other orc tribes and the human kingdoms of the south and eastern areas that bordered Morgathia. However, he had never fought against so disciplined and well trained a force. Each soldier of the Alliance had the same armor and arms that only chieftains or knights had in all other armies.

Barlog then charged into battle, swinging his axe down on the first Battle Point soldier in front of him. The young legionnaire raised his shield, which was broken by the orc’s black iron battle-axe. The pitch-colored axe blade split the metal shield and cut into the soldier’s arm. He swung his sword in response to this hit and struck the large orc in the side. His blade did not pierce Barlog’s breastplate armor, but it still did not feel good.

The large orc struck the soldier in the face with the handle of the axe, knocking him to the ground. As he raised his axe to finish the wounded soldier off, an older sergeant quickly disengaged his fight and moved in to protect his wounded comrade. He blocked the downward stroke of the black axe with his long sword. The force of the parry made the sergeant step back to keep his balance. Barlog quickly followed this intrusion with a strong swinging blow from the left. The senior legionnaire again blocked it with his sword, and the black iron axe took a chunk of steel out of the blade and almost knocked it out of his hand. The large orc then smashed the terminal end of the axe against his shield, pushing him to the ground.

As Barlog raised his axe to cleave his opponent, the legionnaire spun around and struck his adversary in the leg with his sword. The damaged blade managed to cut through the hierorc’s armor and into its thigh. Barlog screamed and brought the axe down onto the sergeant’s shield, cutting through it and pushing the soldier back down to the ground as he was attempting to get up. The legionnaire’s arm was cut badly, and Barlog stepped on his sword arm, pinning it to the ground. With a quick thrust, the hierorc’s blade sliced through the metal strips of the sergeant’s banded armor and cut deep into his chest. A normal axe blade would not have been able to do this, for Alliance steel was of the best quality in the world, but black iron had almost the strength of mithril.

Decray and his rangers had just flown back to the battlefield after dropping off the rescued soldiers with the support corps wagon train that was en route from Battle Point; the healers went right to work treating their injuries. The ranger captain observed the dragon spawn company flying toward the dragons fighting off to the north. He ordered his rangers on their griffons to pursue the spawn, when he saw Barlog breaking through the Battle Point line, knocking down several legionnaires in the process.

“Keep those spawn creatures away from the metallics, I’ll join you in a couple minutes,” Decray spoke into his seeing crystal and then pulled on the reins of the flying rig and directed his griffon to dive toward the battle. The powerful eagle/lion creature pulled up just behind the battling troops, where Barlog had broken through the line. Decry quickly unbuckled his fly straps and jumped off his mount, while drawing his two short swords.

“Orc chieftain,” Decray shouted in orc language to Barlog, “raise your axe if you dare!” Barlog ordered three orcs that were with him to attack the ranger. As the first orc met Decray, it raised its sword in an overhead swing. Decray quickly blocked the orc’s sword with his left and, in an elf-like quick motion, crouched down and brought his right hand sword over and cut through the orc’s leather armor, slicing deep into its abdomen, doubling it over. He then jumped forward, tucked, and rolled, coming up just to pierce the next orc in the chest with both his blades, stopping its advance cold.

Decray’s griffon jumped with amazing quickness and slashed the third orc with its front talons, grayish black blood spurting from the three very deep wounds. “Thank you, my lady,” Decray quickly said to his mount. Barlog then moved in to engage Decray with a sideways swipe from his axe. The ranger jumped back to avoid the axe blade, which missed him by inches. He then tried to move in and thrust with this short sword, but he had to duck and roll away from Barlog’s return axe swing.
Surprisingly quick, this orc is
, Decray said to himself. Instead of going for a killing blow, Decray quickly decided to change his tactics.

Barlog moved in again with a slightly angled downward cleaving stroke. Decray half jumped to the side and parried with his short sword, which took the glancing blow. He deftly aimed an upper cut swing with the short sword in his right hand, landing a well-aimed blow in between armor plates and slicing into the orc’s blackish arm. He leaped away as the axe blade cut empty air where his head used to be. Gallanth’s enhancement of his swords the day before had paid off, for his blade would have been broken by that huge axe if it had not received the gold dragon’s gift.

As he moved around to gain an advantageous position against Barlog, another orc attacked him from the rear. Decray raised both his swords above his head, stopping the downward stroke of the orc’s scimitar. He then turned around quickly, disarming the orc, and cross slicing both blades, decapitating the foul insect. As he turned back around, he raised his right sword just in time to parry Barlog’s axe. Even the drop of dragon blood could not make the sword strong enough to stop the heavy black axe head from breaking the twenty-inch blade in half. The ranger tried to roll out of the way, but the axe sliced through his studded leather armor, slightly cutting into the skin on his chest.

Decray peeled away from the strike, which saved him from a deeper wound. As he moved, he swung his remaining sword down and sliced into Barlog’s left leg, continuing to spin away to get out of his axe’s reach. Growling in pain, Barlog raised and swung his axe toward the ranger’s head. Anger had gotten the best of the hierorc, for this was a clumsy strike. Decray moved to the right of the blow, stepped on the base of the axe head to both block a return swing and boost his leap, and came down on Barlog’s shoulder area, driving his blade to the hilt in between the shoulder and neck plates of his armor.