Alas, the Dwarves have no mirrors but for the small mirrors Cirostis keeps in his beardcarver's kit.

They have other things the flying things might be interested, but the question is, what will they notice from up above?  The nutbars might be appealing but it is doubtful they will be seen.  In the end the Dwarves are forced to settle on the wagon idea, and they pull a wheel off to make it look like it's broken and has simply been left behind.

“Mind you,” Scippio says, “It doesn't look like its left behind.  It IS left behind.  The rest of the troops will keep going.  It's only a  technicality, sure, but you never know about these things.”

A couple of Omniformes shlump their way in, and make themselves look like piles of supplies.  The Dwarves hid themselves nearby.  It's not until they are in position that another thought strikes Scippio.

“You know... those Omniformes....  We could have set up just about anything we wanted to lure them in.  You think they could have done a mirror?  Can they do mirrors?”

We could have had them look like a huge pile of gold,” another Dwarf suggests.

“We're tying to catch them little flying boogers, not us,” Scippio says.

And then they wait.  The other Dwarves move on, and the concealed anti-aircraft squad watches.

Sure enough, the L.F.B's are still trailing the Dwarf troops.  As they get into sight of the “broken” wagon, there are some excited squawks exchanged among them.  They sound like seagulls who have had throat cancer.

They split up.  Three of them continue the “high watch”, while three begin to circle lower to see if this is anything of interest.

Cirostis remains quiet and still, he plans to not do anything until the first set are eaten or fighting in the wagon and the second set come lower to investigate, otherwise he will only break cover If the omniforms are hurt.

The Dwarves wait.  The creatures circle, studying.  Looking.  They are not stupid, it seems, and they know that altitude is their safety.

When they see no Dwarves, and are curious as to what the Dwarves might have left behind, they come lower.

There is a Dwarven voice.

"Great Trowel of My Uncle Mugwun, Look at that!"

There is something else up in the sky.  A flying horse.  Huge white horse, huge wings.  It is headed for the three remaining L.F.B.'s.

The Dwarf's surprised comment is heard by the three that came in for a close examination.  They look to the source of the sound, and start headed back up again.  But the lowest is too low.  It is attacked and grabbed by an Omniforme.  The others are greeted with a hail of crossbow bolts, as the Dwarves realize; jig's up.

Cirostis fires at the critters, reloads and fires again until they are down. There is nothing to say each dwarf knows the job.

       Arctos turns about and finds his cot within his commandeered supply wagon,
sits down, grabs onto the covered wagons crossmember with one hand so as to reduce
his jostling about, and takes another large gulps of Dwarven Spirits.

       Melos lays down beside his masters cot.

       The Dwarvan contingent moves on along with the Dwarven Patre . . .

Dunduin keeps the column rolling. One of the things dwarves are good at is keeping a steady moving pace. Since they tend to move slower they typically put in longer days relying on their hardiness and strenuous training to keep moving. While perhaps not exactly enjoyable they are accustomed to it. Having the trails blazed by the elves and then humans ahead of them makes it a lot easier for them to track and travel. Even so, wagon wheels will break. Fortunately, the pony messenger squad has made it a lot easier to keep communication flowing between the alliance troops. He requests they travel in pairs or small groups so that they can survive contact with a small enemy recon force. He hoped their latest scheme of dealing with the flying enemy scouts was proving successful. Now that the plan was put into action one could only hope.

The three creatures that flew down to investigate the wagon try to… no, not fast enough, the Mimic caught one.  Two.  The two creatures…. Cirostis pegs one with a crossbow bolt.  It is hit by another bolt a moment later, and spirals to earth.  Alright then the ONE creature:  The last one of the unfortunately curious trio flaps skyward, and there is a mighty “THLUNK!!” as the ballista unleashes its bundle of darts.  The ribbon falls away, and the darts spread into a deadly cluster as they fly through the air.  The creature ends up nailed to a tree.

The other three scatter in panic, suspecting that this white horse, which is flying in a most un-equine manner, has something to do with all this.

Dwarves scurry over to investigate the fallen creatures.   There is a rumble, and long, low belch from a Mimic.

”Bizarre looking little stinker, isn’t it?”  one of the Dwarves says.  “Not really a Kobold.  Same overall size, though.  What the heck is it?”

It's cute ain't it, like a giant demonic pixie. Cirostis says. But he is taken by the sight of the flying horse.

What is that? Somebody get an apple or carrot or something and try to call down that beastie! Maybe it's friendly. Ah forget it let me try

Cirostis takes an apple from a companion and puts it out in the clearing he puts away his crossbow and calls , here pretty pretty pretty! With kissing noises to the horse.

The winged horse looks down briefly in Cirostis's direction, but it seems to have other priorities at the moment.  With the LFB's scattered, it flies off, just over the tree tops.  It flies a straight course towards where the Dwarves realize the Humans must be.

One of the Dwarves looks up and says:  “Not so sure we want to be underneath that thing.  So what's with all the things flying around, lately?  Ah well, let's get that wagon fixed again.  Do we take these... whatever they ares?”

Ah let em eat, we just need to keep one of these things
I'll carry it on my pony to the humans and elves, well see if they can identify it.
Cirostis waits for the wagon to get fixed and will move off when it is near to the main party.

He will stop near Dunduin first,
We got a few, Sir and saved a couple sheep in the process
Cirostis smiles.
Im gonna take this one to our allies see if it helps to know what these are.
Do you have any other messages or orders for me?

pm

By the way, you'll think I'm crazy and I probably am, but there was a flying horse that also chased after and fought these things. Thats all I can say about it, I tried to call the beastie but it turned its nose and flew off.

"Hmmm" Dunduin listens and ponders "Please do mention the flying horse creature to the humans and elves and see if you can get any additional information from them."

"Now regarding these flying...things..they are not familiar to me but that's certainly not surprising being that we are quite far from home and dealing with things we've never seen before."

"Oh, and if you can find out where and how far we'll be traveling that would be helpful so can better manage our supplies and logistics. Thanks and may the good gods be with you. Bow your head and receive Vulcans blessing"

Cirostis does as he is told and then moves off in search of the humans

       Patre Arctos feeling a bit better, fills his fantsy flask with some Dwarven spirits, gathers his equipment, and finally bellows to the wagons driver, "Halt the wagon for a few moments Trabak, and I'll let ye know whence thee can move on!"

       As soon as the wagon stops, the Dwarven Patre steps down, unties his steeds
reins from the rear of the wagon, mounts up and finally calls out to Trabak,
"Move um out!"

       Arctos rides over to Dunduin and asks, "Can Scippio and myself
deliver the next message thats to be sent out?"
This message was last edited by the player at 00:21, Thu 31 May 2012.

"By all means please do Arctos. At some point I might take a short trip myself if I can catch a break. Little chance of that probably but I can dream about it." Dunduin chuckles in good spirits.

The Dwarves head on over to find Humans, which they will find in the Battle For Tullum thread.

In fact, if they proceed directly there, they may well find the Winged Horse, on the ground, near Petra, nibbling grass.

The ambush of the flying patrol seems to have dampened the enthusiasm for aerial surveillance.
This fact is not lost on the Dwarves.  They look back, and look up… no flying things.  No little creatures, no flying horse.

It occurs to them that the flying horse must have been on their side.  Old legends seem to agree, flying horses help the good guys.  Pegasus, Hofarprnir…

There is some Dwarven beard scratching as they try to think of other examples.

”Two examples,” Scioppio says.  “Sure it’s a hundred percent good, but it doesn’t exactly fill me with competence.”

“White feathers,” Burris says. “White feathered things are always on the side of good.  It’s like a rule.”

”Does that include chickens and geese?”

“Impressive white things.  Poultry doesn’t count.”

”I see,” Scippio says.  “So if we see a giant white chicken.. do we assume it’s on the side of good or not?”

“Giant chickens aren’t white, they are brown with white flecks,” another Dwarf says, his voice steady with the certainty of experience.

No one asks “How do you know?”  They really don’t want to hear the answer.

”But the point is,” Scippio says, trying to get back on track, “we was watched, and now we isn’t.  These flying things wasn’t random, they’ve… oh fer the love of ham sandwiches, did anyone check the bodies?”

There is a contented rumble from the nearby Mimic.

”What about the one tacked to the tree?” Scippio asks.

"Gone,  I think Cirostis got it."

"There was a third, right?  Where'd it go?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:40, Sat 02 June 2012.

       Arctos remains atop his steed, awaiting orders from his Centurion.  Hope-
fully he and his companion will soon be taking a message to the 'Too Talls' . . .

pm

The Dwarves have an unusual marching pattern.  During the morning, they tend to lag behind the Humans in front of them.  But by the end of the day, they catch up.  Every day they catch up, and the army establishes a single large extended camp.

The Dwarves realize that they have the tough end.  If there is pursuit, it will most likely attack them from the rear.  So when they camp, they set up to watch the rear.

As the Dwarves set out their camp defenses (set spears made into protective "hedgehogs") they pass news of the day to the front, and receive news.

They learn that far ahead, the scouts have discovered an "uncharted" village and are investigating.

       Arctos and Scippio ride their mounts slowly through the various contingents
that are encamped in order to note their temporary defenses and how they have
their guards set.  When the Dwarven duo finally reach the Elven contingents camp,
they both dismount and look about with discerning orbs.

[Private ot GM:

      The Dwarven Patre draws upon what he knows of Demons in order to determine what
strategies they might use to attack their allied defenses whilst encamped or on the move
. . . and what can be done by the allies that could possibly improve their defenses
against the minions of the abyss . . .

      19:14, Today: Secret Roll: Arctos rolled 13 using 1d20+2.
      Knowledge Demonoly/determineTheirTactics. ]
This message was last edited by the player at 02:16, Tue 05 June 2012.

Arctos meditates deeply upon the tactical implications of being followed by Hun scouts.

Obviously, the Huns know by now they were hit by a large raiding force.

But what would they do about it?  That, Arctos cannot tell.  It depends on many things- not only which Demons in particular hold sway over the Hun warlords that would lead effort, but what kind of forces they available.

And the group knows already many of the Hun forces in the area have already been stripped off to fight in the Ardennes.

But one thing becomes clear as he ponders the maps and reports.  Pursuit through this wild, wet forest by a force of Huns doesn't seem all that good of an option, from the Hun point of view.

Soon, though, the troops must cross the main East-West road held by the Huns.  They would cross between two important Hun held cities- Divodurum and Virodunum.  Intercepting the force there, were the Huns could move quickly and "head them off" would be much more feasible than a chase through the forest.

       Arctos decides that he must meet with the General of the Allied Contingent.
Arctos and Scippio continue to ride through the encampments.  Whence they arrive
within the 'Human' camp, the Dwarf lithely grasps his intricately engraved silver
flask secreted within his dusty raiments, removes its top, and takes a generous
swig of the strong Dwarven spirits before shouting out, "Salutations
I'm Patre Arctos of the 'Noble Dwarven Avernian House O' Scopulus', and I seek
audience with thy General." Arctos secures the top back onto his
flask before continuing on . . . "Can someone please direct me to him
please?"

      Scippio looks on and shakes his head in wonder as he observes his Patre and
patrone . . .
This message was last edited by the player at 01:36, Wed 06 June 2012.

Arctos would want to go to the Battle of Tullum thread.

Heolstor is there.