Dragon Alliance Dark Storm : Dark Storm (19 page)

At the end of the match, the targets were scored and cleaned up, as the competitors prepared for the final match, which was the twenty-five-yard rapid-fire stage. This was where the elves had a distinct advantage with their speed and agility. Canjon announced the scores. Scandalon and Gemorg tied for first place, both scoring an eighty with ten bolts in a fourteen-inch circle; Mkel came in second, and Jodem was third. Mkel congratulated the three for a job well done, as they did him.

The last event had each archer standing with four man-sized targets in front of him or her at twenty-five yards. The first stage was to fire two arrows in the center mass-scoring rings and the third arrow in the head. The problem was that the competitors only had four seconds to do this. Elves had a mastery of this type of shooting, for they were faster than humans. As they all readied for the first target, Mkel looked over at Dekeen, who gave him a half smile, as if to tell Mkel that this was his event. Standing next to the Draden elf was Altmed, who seemed extremely focused. He was good but young, as was his dragon. He rode an impetuous but fearless and intelligent silver dragon, even younger than Gallanth.

The range officer gave the signal for the horn as he turned the small hourglass; Mkel quickly lifted Markthrea from the low ready position to his shoulder, found the crosshair, put it in the middle of the target as rapidly as possible, and fired. He quickly threw the lever forward and then back, aimed, and fired again. This time, he knew he drifted slightly to the left, but there was no time to ponder, and he again cycled his crossbow and fired onto the head. He managed to hit the face of the target, but just barely in time, as the horn bellowed out to stop. The next three targets, Mkel had mixed luck with a near-miss on one of the face shots. Dekeen and Altmed were neck and neck after that first relay. The second relay was the timed single engagement fire, where one arrow was fired at each of the four targets in sequence and then the first target was fired at twice. The six shots were fired in seven seconds, then again in six seconds. The last relay was the double engagement match, where the last three targets were fired at twice each, with the first run of the relay in five seconds and the second in four seconds. Only the elves and those Alliance soldiers who had dragonstone weapons could perform in this match with that minimum time. Firing arrows at that rapid speed with that many elves and magic weapons on line was often called the whistle battle because of the intensity of the firing and the whistling sound that the hundreds of arrows made being shot at those speeds.

The almost blinding speed that the elves, especially Dekeen, could fire this match was indeed amazing. At the end of the shooting, all the competitors started putting their equipment away and congratulating each other while the scores were being tabulated. Dekeen and Altmed looked very pleased with themselves at the last match, but it was still only one match, and the cumulative score of all the matches counted for the overall placement.

“You shot well, my old friend,” Mkel said to Jodem.

“Not so well on this short-range plinking match, but I managed to have a little more luck at the precision match,” his wizard friend replied. “You did well across the board, Mkel.”

“Probably not enough for anything today with this hard-holding crowd,” Mkel replied.

“
You
both
did
very
well;
I
think
you
will
be
surprised
,” Gallanth told him telepathically from the alcove.

“What did the big gold lizard say?” Jodem asked.

“He said we both shot very well,” Mkel answered as always wondering how Jodem could tell when Gallanth was talking to him telepathically. Just then, Canjon started to announce the place winners of the rapid-fire match.

“To all present, I am pleased to announce the placements for this last fast and intense match. In third place, with a score of one hundred sixty-seven points out of a total of one hundred and eighty, is Kahll from the 36
th
Legion!” The crowds cheered for the surprised placement winner. “In second place is Eladran Weir’s own rider of Baranth, Altmed!” The crowd went wild as the unexpected second-place winner held his dragonstone crossbow high. “And the fastest and most deadly rapid-fire archer, of the Draden Forest Clan, Dekeen!” he announced as Mkel walked over to give his longtime friend a hug; Dekeen only nodded an acknowledgement of the win. The crowd cheered, especially the ones from Draden, but not as much as Mkel would have liked, likely due to him being an elf and therefore almost expected to do well in contests of accuracy, speed, and precision.

“Now, it is time to announce the overall shooting competition placeholders. All here in front of you have shot extremely well, with incredible feats of accuracy, as you’ve seen in the crystal images, which gave you a shot-by-shot look. This is why the enemies of the Alliance fear us, for who could stand up to this deadly precision? This is why it gives me great pleasure to announce those among them who were both on top of their game and at the same time had the gift of luck with them today. For if you would ask any one of them, they would say that they were all masters of aiming, firing, and hitting their target, so those who shot the best today could be mere points ahead of their fellow brothers of the craft. However, luck shining or just greater consistency; I will now announce those placeholders for today’s amazing event.

“In third place, we have a tie between our brass dragonrider from Talinor Weir Scandalon and the venerable shooter from the Draden Regiment Senior Sergeant Gemorg,” he announced, and all began to cheer. The two archers moved up to the announcer’s stand and received their medals. “In second place, with an outstanding, steady, and consistent performance, Draden Weir’s own leader and gold dragonrider and my friend Captain Mkel!” he almost shouted into the dragonstone on his sword, for he was pleased to see his comrade perform well. Mkel was in shock; he knew he had done well on several events but was not tracking his scores, because he felt he was way out of the running. He walked over to the podium to see his friend Canjon smiling and waiting for him with General Becknor standing beside him holding the silver medallion. He walked up and saluted him, after which the general put the medal over his head. Mkel was trying not to show his pride in himself; he still could not believe he had done this.

“
You
shot
well
today,
my
rider;
you
are
allowed
to
bask
in
the
glow
for
a
brief
moment
in
time.
You
deserve
this
,” Gallanth told him telepathically from his alcove as the cheers erupted from the tens of thousands. They were almost drowned out by Gallanth’s roar and a faint echo from inside the great Capital Weir Mountain.

“It is now my honor to announce the top place for this illustrious event, again from Draden Weir, Master Wizard Jodem!” he announced. Mkel jumped off his podium and ran over to his mentor. He was more excited than Jodem himself, who smiled and returned Mkel’s hug. They walked over together to the platform and went to their places. The polished gold medallion placed around the wizard’s thick neck shone beautifully in the early afternoon sun.

This
is
a
good
day,
Mkel thought to himself.

“
Indeed
it
is
my
rider.
I
think
that
Lieutenant
Willaward
and
his
catapult
crews
have
just
fired
their
second-to-last
volley
,” Gallanth told him, as they both heard and felt the concussion and tremor from the impacts of the catapult projectiles on the range next to the archers.

“I hope they are doing well,” Mkel said out loud.

“
They
have
been
performing
exceptionally,
but
their
competition
will
be
determined
by
the
last
volley
.”

“Range eighteen hundred yards, three turns on throw cable tension, five clicks direction left for wind for catapult, one and two and seven clicks for catapult three and four, load one hundred pound practice stone, signal when ready!” Willaward shouted out the directions into his seeing crystal. His crews were moving with deliberate purpose in adjusting their catapults for this final volley. The circular targets lay on the ground a mile away with a large silhouette in the center to range on. In spite of them being fifty yards in diameter, it was difficult to hit even for the best crews. He was trying to bracket the target with the tightest group possible to best the other catapult sections. His crews quickly responded.

“Catapult one up!”

“Cat two up!

“Three up!”

“Four up!”

His section chiefs answered him in succession.

“Prepare to fire and ignite!” he shouted his command back to his crews so they could hear him, both with the seeing crystals and without them just in case. “Fire!” he abruptly yelled. All four catapults pulled their lanyards with most of the other competitors right after the Draden Weir crew. Immediately, the open air was filled with dozens of large flaming projectiles streaking toward their targets. They only put a light coating of oil on them, which was ignited so the spectators could see the projectiles on their long arc to the targets. The sight of the flaming stones arcing through the air with their smoke tails, as well as the classic whistling as they streaked overhead was indeed an impressive experience. They were not using dragon’s-fire canisters, for those would make the judging of the strikes almost impossible.

The combined impacts of the one-hundred-pound stones rumbled the ground and reverberated against the side of the mountain. As soon as all the safety flags were waved on the firing line, the scorers emerged from the protective bunkers and began to mark the strikes for closeness to the scoring rings, which would be meshed in with the times from the crews as collected on the firing line. Mkel and Jodem walked over to Willaward’s crews as they were readying their catapults to be pulled back to the Capital Weir and be staged until the games were completed. They were also to get retrofitted for the new floating wagon base, for Draden Weir, along with several other catapult crews, would be among the first to test this new invention.

“Lieutenant, how are my long-range killers?” Mkel asked as he walked up to his catapult crews smiling.

“Well, sir, the crews worked well today. We were very synchronized, and I think the shots landed well, but we will know shortly,” the catapult platoon leader replied.

“I have faith in you all. Your men looked really good in that last volley,” Mkel said with a smile.

“I heard in between the last two volleys that you and Master Jodem are to be given congratulations for a bunch of good shooting,” the tall lieutenant stated as he shook Mkel’s hand.

“This is a small matter; remember that all of the master shooters could easily outshoot any or all of the others. Competing at that level is ninety-nine percent skill with the winners having that one percent luck,” Jodem stated.

“Either way, I am happy for both of you,” Willaward insisted.

Just then, Canjon started to announce the results of the catapult competition. As he spoke, the crews were still harnessing their draft horses to their siege engines to pull them out, as if the results did not matter much.

“Ladies and Gentleman, I am pleased to be able to announce the results of the catapult competitions. In third place, the fast and accurate crew from Draden Weir, with a combined score of two hundred twenty-nine out of two hundred forty points,” he stated as Mkel grabbed Willaward by the arm and congratulated him and his crews. “In second place, with a combined score of two hundred thirty-one points, the long-arm throwers of Rom Weir!”

That
is
a
surprise,
Mkel thought to himself, but it was good to see the small weir take a place in a competition.

“And in first place, with a score of two hundred thirty-six, the catapult crew from the 1
st
Legion,” he finished, and with that, the spectators broke into a thunderous applause. Canjon then began to announce the winners of the four races that had taken place that day—the hippogriff, giant eagle, and winged horse races. Draden Weir didn’t have any competitors in those events with the current situation in Battle Point and with the fire giants, so he only listened with half an ear. He was very happy with today’s results. He could not have asked for a better outcome. Draden Weir had done admirably, but there were still three more days of games, and he and Gallanth were involved in three of them—the dragon fires competition, the thunder foot game tomorrow, and the dragon race on the last day.

They all adjourned to their alcove as soon as Canjon had finished announcing the race results. There was much celebrating to do, but Mkel knew he had to drink with moderation, for he had to compete the next day with Gallanth and had to shoot again. This was to the dismay of Lawrent, who wanted to see Mkel drink more in celebration of his and Jodem’s accomplishments. Tomorrow’s concerns did not stop Jodem, who kept right up with the raider, nor Toderan, as they were both done with their events. The night went well, but Mkel did have the next day on his mind. Gallanth told him not to worry because the dragon events were more geared toward the spectators than the dragons themselves, for whom it was just another opportunity to practice their deadly skills. Mkel spent more time congratulating his two shooters, catapult crews, and Jodem than focusing on himself.