Dragon Alliance Dark Storm : Dark Storm (37 page)

“What if we just choose to stay and mine the gems and gold ourselves?” Tbok countered.

“While you could keep my armies out of the area for a time, the desert would prove inhospitable and you would lose as many of your soldiers to it as to my holy warriors, who are all willing to martyr for their place in paradise with Kallysh,” he said cleverly.

“Then it is done. The city is now under the shadow of Morgathia and will be so for two weeks. Let this be a lesson to you and your zealot followers, that what we will do to Hasera, we can do to this entire kingdom,” Tbok ceded the negotiation, for he knew there was some truth to what the sultan was saying. They would easily defeat the forces there, raze the city, and take the treasure, but to stay and work the mines past this winter would mean a substantially greater force and even greater support for them, and this was the Morgathian army’s weakest point—their ability to resupply themselves.

“May the merciful shadow of Kallysh fall upon you, Talon sorcerer,” Dalmach blessed Tbok, who stared at him slightly puzzled at how he could just let one of his cities fall without more of an argument, but he knew he must be going. He turned around and was escorted out of the palace by the Talestra, and they remounted the dragons. With several angry roars, the chromatics went airborne and headed north as they all started to vanish in teleport.

“Sultan, you saved the holy city. How did you do this and without a fight? You are truly blessed by Kallysh,” Dalmach’s page spoke out as soon as Tbok left.

“My cousin was getting too ambitious and whipping his followers into a fervor. He was even eying my throne. For the mere cost of one of our cities and its treasure, I have eliminated one of my rivals, and it cost not one of my soldiers, who are expensive to maintain. We will rebuild the city and take control of the mines there for our coffers. This is what I agreed to with their prefect, Sorcerer Stalenjh,” he answered.

Tbok had received the location of the advancing Morgathian and drow army from Nozok’s dark crystal and teleported in. They were at the base of the mountain range on the northern border of Ariana, just a few miles from Hasera. The rather sizeable army on the ground was at least two or three divisions in strength, over fourteen thousand Morgathian soldiers with an equal number of orcs. The battalion of drow was in the back of the formation and the several battalions of Morgathian cavalry were leading. The Morgathian wyverns and manticore squadrons were slowly walking behind the advancing army, and the siege troops were finishing the catapults and siege towers and beginning to move them with teams of behirs, trolls, and giants. Several other units of grummish, gnolls, and other assorted creatures were mixed in with the army.

Tbok saw two squadrons of chromatic dragons sitting at the base of the mountain pass and had Traxsus glide over to join their squadron. There were almost thirty dragons on the ground already.
This
is
the
biggest
gathering
of
chromatic
dragons
for
a
battle
since
the
Great
War,
Tbok thought as his makeshift squadron began to land beside the sitting group of dragons. Nozok was standing in front of his province’s lead dragon, the demon red Hellstrafe, a particularly evil and cruel chromatic. Tbok dismounted and walked over to Nozok.

“Ah, finally decided to join in on the fun, my neighbor to the west?” the short but sinister-looking Talon sorcerer greeted his colleague. “I trust your meeting with the good sultan went fairly well?” he asked.

“Yes, do you know why he gave up his northernmost city without too much of an argument?” Tbok asked.

“The only thing we have to worry about now is the total destruction of this city and the division of its wealth. We must ensure that Stalenjh gets his cut, and the rest will be divided amongst ourselves,” he quickly stated. Tbok was starting to see how events were unfolding. “He will ensure he gets his share of the gem and gold treasure and knows there will be much blood spilled today.”

“I understand; now what is your plan for the siege?” he asked Nozok.

“Siege? There will be no siege. With this number of dragons and your and my magical power, the walls of that city will crumble and their puny army will be crushed. Then our men can have the city to do with what they want as long as the treasury is not touched. The Talestra you brought will ensure that. Trust me, everything has been arranged. Now it is time to have some fun. I haven’t seen a city razed since the Great War with the Alliance, in the unsettled lands and Northern Ontaror. I was only a beginning apprentice then, but now it is my turn to wreak havoc. The chromatics are thirsting for this. We will let the army get to within siege distance and then attack the city with the dragons to force their army out to fight and then crush them,” the Central Province Talon sorcerer explained with his menacing evil smile, almost giddy with the thought of the carnage to come.

While the two Morgathian sorcerers discussed their strategy, the combined Morgathian army group moved ever so close to the city; the orcs within their ranks were barely controllable, as they wanted both a fight and food. Inside the city, the emir’s army was also being worked up into a frenzy, having been inspired by their zealot preachers or Kallysh holy men that the true divine battle was about to begin. The emir gave instructions to send most his army out to meet the approaching Morgathian forces, a tactical mistake in itself, for they were slightly outnumbered and would be wise to fight defensively from the walls of the city. However, the emir’s fervor and the overconfidence of his generals caused them to overlook this fact. Their tenacity was also likely due to the word of the Morgathian defeat at Battle Point. He ordered his manticores to launch to the attack, and the large iron gates of the city walls were opened.

Hundreds of manticores with their white- and purple-robed riders took to the sky as the Arianan cavalry poured out of the city, the mounted warriors brandishing their long, curved scimitars. A few held their traditional two-edged spears. They were all shouting and somewhat undisciplined in their attack but fearsome nonetheless. The emir’s infantry was almost running after the cavalry wildly, waving assorted weapons, including curved scimitars, thick-bladed falchions, reverse-curved swords, and long spears, but was only armored with hide-covered brass shields and maybe a light breastplate or thick woven cloth armor.

The Morgathian heavy cavalry started to move to intercept the Arianans, but the orcs broke rank and began a headlong charge.

“Fool insect creatures!” one of the Morgathian army captains shouted as they tried to maintain control of their own forces. “This attack must be coordinated, not lunging forward piecemeal,” he complained.

“The men know what awaits them in that city—plunder and women. Can you blame them? We ran out of provisions three days ago,” a fellow officer yelled over to him through his black steel helmet, the visor and mouth guard making it look like a skull with jagged teeth. His companion briefly smiled, but his attention was diverted by the garbled roars of both the Arianan and Morgathian manticores coupled with the mounted wyverns clashing overhead. The two airborne forces fought in a unique aerial duel that pitted like creatures against like instead of their normal enemies from the Alliance or the Kaskars. The Arianan manticores were slightly smaller than the Morgathian versions and more of a tan color, while their counterparts had a deeper brown coat and mane, but both still had hideous apelike heads.

Spikes were flying in every direction as many of the grotesque creatures and their riders started to fall from the sky. The death-knight-mounted wyverns were taking their toll on the Arianan manticores and riders, but not without losses of their own. The Morgathians were better flyers, with better armor but the smaller Arianan mounts were more maneuverable and more prone to fight to the death to achieve martyrdom.
This
fight
will
take
a
while
before
a
clear
winner
emerges,
so
they
will
not
be
able
to
influence
the
battle
on
the
ground,
Tbok thought.

The orcs’ mad rush was first met with a hail of Arianan arrows, which downed dozens of the raving and screaming creatures; however that still did not slow their advance. The two armies met in a headlong charge with spear and shield smashing into each other. A general melee broke out with both orcs and Arianan holy warriors slicing and smashing their opponents. The Arianan scimitars were being very effective in cutting through the orc leather and light chain-mail armor, but the same was true of the orcs’ crude axes, spiked clubs, spears, and hacking swords. The seven-foot-tall grummish shock troops among the orcs center line were taking their toll, however, swinging their heavy spiked maces and clubs, crushing skulls and bones with every swing, until enough Arianan spears could bring them down.

As the sheer numbers and intensity of the melee had temporarily created a stalemate, the Arianan cavalry, lighter and faster than the Morgathian heavy horse, had outmaneuvered their opponents and now attacked the orcs from the rear. The long scimitars and mounted archers on their fast, sleek horses were starting to tear into the orcs’ rear ranks to where the orc war chieftain bellowed out for his lines to split and half face to their rearward attacking enemy. They were now effectively being ground to dust between the Arianan envelopment, and their numbers were dropping fast. Within minutes, the orc ranks were broken and they were being hacked to pieces. Even the three sub chieftain heir-orcs, with their black-iron weapons, were killed.

As the last of the orc bands were being slain, the Arianan general raised his scimitar and shouted, “Death to the demonic orcs and the infidels! Praise be to Kallysh!”

All of his army repeated the chant, “Victory to Kallysh! Victory to Kallysh!” However, this victory would be short-lived, for the Morgathian battle line was bearing down on them, and the black-armor-clad cavalry had reformed and was now moving to their right flank, with the fast-footed companies of gnolls racing to their left. The black turbaned Arianan general quickly realized his army was in a bad position, so he ordered his cavalry to meet the Morgathian heavy horse to hold them off, and his archers to rain death upon the foul fleet-footed hyena men who were bearing down on his exposed flank. He then rode up in front of his men and spurred them to attack the Morgathian infantry head-on, shouting, “For Kallysh and paradise!”

His bearded, robed soldiers echoed the shout, and they took off into a headlong charge.

The Morgathian ranks had separated enough to allow the dozen or so common giants and behirs to move to the front. As soon as the Arianan charge was within one hundred yards, the giants started to throw fifty to one-hundred-pound boulders at the Arianan advancing line. With surprising accuracy, they were crushing up to a dozen men with each successful hit. The behirs then started to unleash their deadly lightning breath weapons at the Arianans, horribly electrocuting and burning several at each strike.

The Arianan general hastened their charge to minimize the losses he was receiving from this combined attack and rushed headlong into the awaiting Morgathian spears. Once the first wave was skewered, an open fight ensued. The Morgathian armor was much more difficult to cut through than the orcs’ and while still inflicting heavy casualties among the Morgathian infantry and even bringing down many of the giants and a few behirs, the fanatical warriors were dropping at a fast rate. The drow had very stealthily maneuvered around the rear of the Arianan Army and began to wade into their ranks; their speed and sword prowess proved deadly to the desert fighters.

The Arianan general looked back from atop his horse to see if he could garner help from his cavalry and archers. However, all he saw was the dark steeds of the Morgathians chasing what was left of his horsemen, and while his archers had finished off many of the gnolls, they were too heavily engaged to be of consequence. Faced with being trapped, the bearded Arianan general spurred his horse and tried to escape by breaking through the drow, but he was hit with several dark-elf short javelins and darts. As he fell, he was swarmed by a squad of drow, who hacked him to pieces. Very soon, just like the orcs, the Arianans were being crushed between two belligerent forces. Those who tried to surrender were immediately executed, and very soon, the battle on the ground was over, with the lead death knight, raising his black-iron sword in victory. The rest of the Morgathian army echoed his shout.

The aerial duel had proven a draw with both Arianan and Morgathian forces suffering heavy losses and both forced to temporarily retreat. The Arianan manticore commander, seeing his mounted warriors were being pushed back, decided to lead the Morgathians to fight him over the city. Once they had lured them in, hundreds of archers and ballista were launched into the sky and sent several Morgathian manticores and wyverns plummeting to the ground.

The black-armor-clad warlord quickly regained control of his army, which was much smaller now, having lost at least half of his men and all the orcs, a total of ten thousand. He started to move toward the city walls.

“Treynag, send your battalions to the wall,” the warlord ordered.

“Sire, they are exhausted from the fight with the enemy army, and many are falling from the heat of this accursed land!” the senior officer yelled back.

“Attack now; no questions unless your men want a spear to their back,” the warlord angrily replied. Grudgingly, the regimental commander ordered his men forward to the gate. As soon as they were within a hundred yards of the wall, a hail of arrows streamed out from over the top and behind the fortification and rained on the Morgathian army. Dozens fell as the volleys kept coming and coming. The death knight, shield raised to deflect any projectile directed at him, ordered his forces back. The Arianan back bows proved very effective. These specially trained archers had oversized recurve bows that in order to fire, they had to lie on their backs, strap their feet on the limbs, and pull the bowstring with both hands with their legs raised. While not overly accurate, they could send an arrow for hundreds of yards.