Message-ID: <6587eli$9712201918@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: pjurado@aol.com (PJurado) X-Good-Line-Length: yes Subject: RP: Return of Dark Dragon Chp.3 by PJ Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-Id: <19971220071300.CAA10908@ladder01.news.aol.com> Return of Dark Dragon by PJ Chapter 3 Rodger's band stopped within sight of the black market camp, which sprawled like a wilting flower upon the grassy plain. To the west of the camp was the Chasm, a great rift that separated the fertile lands of the East from the desolate, mountainous regions of the West. With a flick of his reins, Rodger led the mounted raiders and the stumbling Elf women into the boisterous tent city. The smells of cooking meat, unwashed bodies, and various addictive drugs assaulted the party as they traveled deeper into the camp. Whores and drug pushers vied for the attentions of the bandits until Rodger reached an intersection of roads and turned his horse to the southern street. After passing several brothels and shops, the raiders entered another market square, this time with a wooden dais in its center. A lean, heavily scarred man dressed in leather armor emerged from a nearby tent and strode up to Rodger. "Looks like you hit it lucky," said the man as he gazed coolly at the Elven women chained together. "Yes, I was very fortunate," replied Rodger with a smile. "I was hoping that the two of us could make a deal." "I think that an exchange could be arranged," agreed the slaver. "How much are ya asking?" "Ten thousand gold crowns," replied Rodger. "Ten thousand? That's a pretty big hunk of change. I'll have to think about that one," said the slaver hesitantly. "Don't think too long. I'm sure there are plenty of other slavers here that would jump at the chance to buy some high-quality Elven slave girls. They're very hard to get, you know," remarked Rodger casually. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Give me twelve hours, and I'll get the money for ya," replied the slaver with a scowl. "Thank you. As always, it's a pleasure doing business with you," said Rodger with a smile as he directed four of his men to escort the Elven women to the slave pens. The grizzled slaver spat on the ground, then returned to his soiled tent. Rodger dismissed the remainder of his band, then directed his horse to a nearby tavern, with Victoria trailing behind him. ************************************************************************** ************************ Governor Nightmane stood upon the battlements of Sentinel Keep that faced the evil lands of the West. The leader of Sentinel's garrison was in her mid-thirties, with long, black hair that hung to her waist. She wore a shining suit of silver platemail, and carried a jeweled long sword on her shapely hip. Tonight, the warrior woman wore her raven hair in an intricate braid that ran down her back. As she gazed at the dark horizon, and the tall mountains beyond the Chasm, small lights began to appear in the distance. With dawning horror, Nightmane watched as the Army of Night spilled across the plain in front of the fortress and began to encircle it. Alarm horns sounded across the battlements of the mighty keep as soldiers rushed to fill their posts and prepare Sentinel's defenses. "What are you orders, my lady?" asked a panting guard who stumbled to a stop next to the governor. "Arm the ballistas and move the archers into position. Send a flock of messenger birds to the east in order to inform King Flannar that the West has invaded. Quickly now!" ordered Nightmane tersely. The guard saluted briefly, then rushed to carry out his orders. Nightmane turned to watch as the army began setting up catapults, ladders, and rams for the eventual assault. "Those stupid bastards never learn," muttered Nightmane with a shake of her head. ************************************************************************** ******************************* "The troops are in position and the siege engines are being assembled," reported a captain. "Good. Tell the artillery commanders that I want them to begin launching flame loads as soon as the catapults are ready," ordered General Dyth. "Yessir!" replied the officer before he ran into the night. "Shouldn't we wait till dawn?" asked General Jordan. "The spotters won't be able to see a thing in this darkness." "I'm not trying to do any damage right now," replied Dyth calmly as he sat upon a stool and examined a map of the area. "Right now, surprise is on our side. The defenders are still in shock over seeing our army, and I want to heighten their tension. If we're lucky, the leader of the garrison will overreact and do something foolish, like lead an attack out of the fortress." "I doubt that she will do that. Everything I hear says that Nightmane is a level-headed and intelligent commander," said Jordan. "Maybe. You never know what someone will do unless you test them," replied Dyth. "Isn't ten companies a little light when attacking a fortified position like this?" asked Jordan as he sat down on a nearby stool. "I mean, after all, during the Succession War, we had over a hundred thousand troops, and we still couldn't take the Sentinel or keep control of the surrounding countryside. How can we succeed with one thousand now where we couldn't with ten times that amount before?" asked Jordan. "For one thing, the garrison in Sentinel right now isn't as large as it used to be. Our spies reported that the fortress only has about four hundred defenders in it," replied Dyth as a servant girl arrived and poured the two generals some wine from a silver flagon. "Good King Flannar has had trouble justifying a large standing army since we haven't attacked in the last seven years. The Royal Army is only a third of its prior strength, which means it will take longer for them to respond to our invasion. If we can take Sentinel quickly, we can use it against the King's own army and open the way for total conquest. We have to take this fortress first, however." "I see," said Jordan before he sipped his wine. "What do you want me to do?" "Maintain your position on the left flank for now. After the siege has drawn on for awhile, I'll want you to patrol the region and keep an eye out for the Royal Army. If Flannar becomes rash, he may send the army in piecemeal, which will allow us the perfect opportunity to destroy it." "I'll return to my troops then," replied Jordan as he set down his cup then walked away from Dyth's large, black tent. The older general set his map of the fortress on a nearby table, then began to make notes on the parchment with a quill pen. ********************************************************************** Men screamed in fear as the first fiery projectiles slammed into the walls of Sentinel Keep. Governor Nightmane held tightly onto the stone crenallations as the entire length of the western wall shook under the impact. Five fireballs hurled from the Army of Night's position and smashed into the aging rock, knocking men helplessly into the main courtyard. "Shall we send out a sortie to knock out the catapults?" asked a nearby officer. "No. We stay here in the keep where we have the advantage. Order the gunners to get the range of those artillery positions and open fire with the ballista," ordered Nightmane. "The catapults are probably out of range," remarked the officer. "Yes, but we might get lucky. Go," replied the governor. The nervous officer quickly saluted before rushing to obey his leader. Nightmane turned to observe the enemy as it continued to assault the walls with flame bolts. "Good ploy, but I'm not falling for it," whispered Nightmane with a grin. The Army of Night continued the barrage all night. The men guarding the battlements grew increasingly tense and short-tempered as the fiery missiles slammed into the thick walls of the keep. Nightmane did her best to maintain morale, and hoped that King Flannar would respond quickly. ******************** Although many of the messenger birds had been shot down by enemy arrows, two managed to escape the siege and fly swiftly to River Towers, the capital of the Eastern Lands. The shining city sat near a branching point of the White Water river. Just south of the capital, the mighty river split into two smaller rivers that emptied into the surging ocean of the south. Many elegant towers rose from the capital, standing like proud guardians over the jewel of the East. At the center of the city was the Royal Palace, center of government and home to King Flannar, his wife, and his daughter, Princess Hophena. Two days after the siege of Sentinel had begun, a nervous aide rushed into the audience hall of the King and kneeled before the white, marble throne. "Your highness, an urgent message from Sentinel Keep," declared the aide loudly. "Give it to me," commanded the King wearily. The aide gave the King a wrapped parchment scroll, then knelt awaiting the ruler's pleasure. The aging monarch untied the silk cord, then quickly scanned through the scroll's contents. "Summon my generals here immediately," ordered the King tersely. "Yes, my liege," replied the aide before he practically ran out of the hall. "What is it, father?" asked Princess Hophena who sat in the Queen's Chair to the left of the throne. "Sentinel Keep is under attack. That fool Blackheart wants to start another war," replied Flannar bitterly. "You'll beat him, father. You always do," said the Princess confidently. "I wish I was as certain as you, my dear," remarked the King as he glanced at his daughter affectionately. "Perhaps we could reach a settlement with Emperor Blackheart," suggested Lord Mordran with a sly grin. "I very much doubt it," replied the King with a withering glance towards Mordran. "I told you that if we reduced the size of the army, Darkblade would make a grab for more territory." "At the time, the Emperor seemed quite content with the size of his realm. Besides, the money we saved has proven quite useful in improving trade and strengthening the economy," said Mordran smugly. "Not to mention filling your own coffers," muttered Flannar. The white-haired ruler continued to scowl at his nobles until the double doors of the hall opened and a group of the generals from the Royal Army strode boldly to the throne. "You sent for us, your majesty?" asked General Sath with a bow. "Yes, I did. How much time do you need to mobilize the Royal Army?" inquired the King. "That's a difficult question to answer, your majesty," replied Sath. "The Army is scattered throughout the Realm, guarding Anvil, Rapids, and both port cities. At a guess, I say that it would take about a month to gather any kind of sizable force. Do you want me to issue a recall to the capital?" "No. I want you to send all units to Sentinel directly. We can't afford the time it would take to mobilize here, then march all the way to the Keep. Send those movement orders immediately." "Your majesty, if Emperor Blackheart has the number of men he possessed in the last war, they'll grind our reinforcements into the dirt. We should gather our troops into one effective force, then attack Darkblade's army," suggested Sath reasonably. "If you can coordinate a link-up near Sentinel, then do so. It's imperative that we send reinforcements to Nightmane before the Keep falls, otherwise the way will be open for the Army of Night to invade the whole of the East. Implement my wishes, general," commanded Flannar. "As you command, your majesty," acknowledged General Sath as he bowed at the waist, then led the lesser generals from the audience hall. ********************************************************* -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |