The Dwarves assemble.  Losses were very light, which was only to be expected as they didn’t show up until the midway point, and most of their work was done by the artillery- to which they’ve now added a piece- a catapult.

The artillerists are fussing over it, discussing how they will improve it.  It needs some work.

Dunduin takes role call and sees that any dwarves that are heavily wounded are given healing and any dead are respectfully and appropriately cared for. Loss of life was inevitable in war but never easy. Fortunately the dwarven losses were minimal thanks to the good gods. After leading the troops in a brief prayer of thanks to Vulcan, Mars, and any other good god of faith represented in their dwarven contingent, Dunduin reports to Heolstor to see how he wants to handle the situation from this point. Looting, security, watches, and the like. He gives the engineering team the nod to acquire any parts they need but tells them to be subtle about it as the details regarding spoils of war hadn't been officially worked out yet.


EDIT: Spell/Grammar fix
This message was last edited by the player at 02:13, Wed 18 Apr 2012.

        The Dwarven Patre looks to his Centurion, wipes the remnants of demonic
gew from his person as best he can whilst proceeding to address his Commander
 . . .
        "Strong drink tis wot we art in need O' to fill the vile void created by
engaging art adversaries O' the abyss along with but a brief respite.

        We also need to know what art next planned objective tis against art Hun
adversaries.  To continue the advance we hath started tis in art best interests
O' all concerned!  The Huns cannot be allowed time to organize themselves against
us.  We should march against the next Hunnish City and bring it to its knees as
well with all due haste!

       There tis naught any time to rest or tarry!"

This message was last edited by the player at 03:04, Wed 18 Apr 2012.

 While slowly walking from the basilica to the Temple mall, the druid took some time to consider the people of Tullum. It was an odd thing, that none of them had bothered to come out of their houses, to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them... maybe they thought it would be nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. Well it was an interesting question indeed, one that likely would not be answered for an other millennia.

 As he gathered with the dwarves, Tugdual did not join their tight and carefully arrayed position, he actually remained at a distance ; after all, he had never really been part of the troop, he was merely an irregular scout and emissary.

 He listened for the time being, and wondered whether he should stay there or go and find Heolstor... and Petra, there were so many things he wished he had time to share with her.

PM

PM
This message was last edited by the player at 14:22, Wed 18 Apr 2012.

"Easy there tough guy. We do need to rest. We are tough but we aren't machines either. You also need to keep in mind, this was a joint victory. A small contingent running off by ourselves does not mean victory. In fact, will most likely mean we will lose by attrition. Remember, our mission from the king was to aid the elves and humans, not to help and then run off. We don't have the numbers for that no matter how much we may want it to be otherwise. Keep in mind, the main reason for our light losses is because of the humans and the elves. The humans provided cavalry support and counter to worg units and the elves provided much needed additional range attack suppression and magic offense and healing. All of this enabled us to focus on what we do best. Short range melee whacking and protected artillery barrage. No, I'm afraid we must uphold our assigned task from the king until such time as we are dismissed either by him or the forces we are assisting."

PM
This message was last edited by the player at 15:38, Wed 18 Apr 2012.

"We'll just do the best we can under the circumstances. Rushing too fast is just as bad as not moving fast enough. Somewhere in-between is an ideal solution. Let's hope we can find it without too much grief."

Heolstor coordinates with Dunduin.

He suggests that each force take over guard duty at one of the gates and a third of the wall, for now. Though he offers to have his men perform the role entirely themselves if Dunduin would prefer.

Looting, Heolstor thinks, may be a prickly affair. Warriors deserve their fair share and the Saxon suggests that any who fought in the battle should take what they want of formerly orcish holdings. Half of what is found, though, ought to be gathered up and used to fund the purchase of supplies and repairs to the city however.

Tugdual and Dunduin have gathered up the shards of the slain creature.  Together they have about a pint worth of Demon shards.  The stuff is clearly magical, and they figure out that it “wants” to be together- when Tugdual's cup of shards is near Dunduin's cup of shards, all the shards start to become much colder.

As others have seen, when Demons die, they do not leave a body, just a small portion of their physical beings.  Those who have studied them, as Cirostis and to an extent Arctos have, understand why.  It is because most of the Demon is not made of physical matter.  Its form is composed of Evil energy, the raw force of negative emotion like fear and hate.  All of that vanishes when the demon is slain, leaving only the small bit of actual physical matter behind.  Although the remains of Demons often contain powerful magic, this is something best left to someone who really knows their Demonstuff.  A good alchemist might know of things that can be brewed from ice demon shards. 

A bartender could probably put them to use as well. Ice cubes that never melt?  Sure, they  might be “evil” but most bars could probably charge extra for “evil ice ” and find patrons would happily pay.

The weary Dwarves have marched and fought all night (and that was a fast paced march, to catch up with the Humans and Elves!) and although they are, on the average, tougher and more resilient than the Humans and Elves, even Dwarves have limits.  They are very tired, and they look at the nice big buildings around them with longing- wouldn't one of those... or two... make a fine place to camp.

An Elf comes to visit the Dwarves.  He introduces himself as Leithol, and says he is one of the leaders of the Elves.  He thanks the Dwarves for their arrival.  It was unexpected, but very valuable, as the Dwarves have apparently brought “machines useful for attacks on buildings”.    He wants to know what the Dwarves plan to do, because the Elves plan to go further north.

“As sad as this town is, and the real possibility of it being retaken by the Huns, and the occupants punished, we cannot stay here.  Have you heard what the locals say?  Most of the Orc warriors here are gone.  They are gone, because their Emperor wishes to attack our kin in the Ardennes.  This is merely a stop on the way.  The Ardennes will be the true battle, and there we must go, and quickly.  Your company would be valuable.”

       The Dwarven Patre's countenance brightens with a smile, and after pausing
for but a moment, he makes known his feeling on the matter . . .

       Leithol, upon art Centurions command, we shalt hopefully march with thee to
the North soon as thee art ready.  Our Dwarven High King hath ordered us to lend
all O' art support to the Elves, as the Demons O' the Great Abyss wouldst never
expect such an unusual alliance as this.

       Tis art highest hopes that thee n' thy Elven forces wilst reciprocate in kind
and lend us assistance with thy Elven forces within the Dwarven Kingdom wonce we art
finished battling the Huns!

       Wouldst ye agree to such a proposal as this Leithol?"

Dunduin concurs "We are glad to help Leithol. We will certainly accompany the elves North."

Since the ice shards are meant to be as one Dunduin gives his over to Tug since he has expressed an interest in them. "I hope you can find a use for them and if not then try to pass them on to someone who can. Obviously, be mindful of what they are being used for or who you give them to."

Dunduin meets with Heostor. "I will comply with your wishes but you may want to consider that we can't stay and leaving behind half the loot will most likely only put it back in the hands of the enemy."

Dunduin sets up a dwarven watch for the section of the town where the dwarves are camping. He makes sure to keep the shifts short. The dwarves worked hard marching there and fighting and needed some rest before they could march and fight well again. He sets up loot patrols too and go finds Arctos and Cirostis to see if they want to do some looting as well. Never know what one may find.

       Rubbing his ragged beard in thought, Arctos finally replies after a long
deliberate pause . . .

       "Wot we art in need O' tis at least two large heavy duty wagons, each with
at least four horse teams.  If there be any warponies, we shalt be n' need O' them
as well.  The more troops we hath mounted, the quicker we wilst be able to achieve
art objective.

       Pon art way to art original objective we came across a warehouse O' valuables,
wonce we hath the wagons we art in need O', we shalt be able to take wot we wish
from there.  Be there any smithies ere?  Mayhaps we should hath a look in upon wot art
adversaries twere making, and possibly appropriate wotever we can use from those
facilities.

       Doth ye hath any idea where we mayst come across the wagons and horses?"

Cirostis remains silent, allowing Dunduin to form the policy. Of course he might be dozing with his eyes open. Some dwarves are known to sleep at attention position still able to respond as needed.

 Tugdual listened to the dwarves. He had had a long night night, and the extensive use of his shape shifting abilities had taken their toll too... At some point, it seemed that he was struggling to remain awake. To keep his focus, he started chewing on a small piece of bark from his herbs pouch.

 As the elf showed up and explained the plan, the druid wondered if it was the right course of action for him. He wanted the Huns defeated just as anybody, but with the elves to guide to dwarves through this territory and to the Ardennes, would they have a need for him ?

 He waits for a moment to take Dunduin aside and asks :
  "Centurion. A few weeks ago, an earth nymph and a spirit of the northern wind appeared to me and suggested I help you find the safe way to the Ardennes...

   With your reaching the elves here, I think my task is done.
   I appreciated the time spent with you ; it has given me a new perspective on your kin.

   Unless you have a need for my staying with your troop -and I will gladly stay if you have- I would like to take my leave."

"I can't say that I'm happy to see you go. You provided us with unique scouting abilities, communication advantages, and an extra fighting spell caster and healer. That said, I think I understand, at least a little, on some level. You've done well on my account and I sincerely thank you for your service. As far as I'm concerned you are welcome back anytime. Feel free to drop by even if it's to just say hello. Take all the ice shards and I hope you can find a good use for them. All that I ask is that you don't let them fall into evil hands. May the good gods be with you."

With that Dunduin will give the mighty druid a firm dwarven arm clasp (whom the Romans stole to use for themselves).

After a short powernap Dunduin finds Arctos and Cirostis and sees if they are up for treasure hunting in town. If not he'll find someone else who is interested to go with.

      Arctos shakes his head in positive affirmation as Dunduin asks whom of
his followers would appreciate searching out the town . . .

      "Yea, I shalt come with thee mine Centurion to search out the town for
spoils O' war . . . and Skippio shalt attend myself as well in the endeavor.

      My excitement o'er a battle fought, and the pain wot I hath will naught
let me sleep until I've drank nigh a tun O' brew."

      The Patre lift his finely chizzled Dwarven proboscos high into the air
in an attempt to seek out the highest concentrations of fecal smells that
would lead them to this towns stables . . .
This message was last edited by the player at 15:03, Thu 19 Apr 2012.

Cirostis looks to the Druid and shakes his hand heartily. It was an Honor, sir. If I can ever assist you I would be proud to do it.

 Tugdual accepts Dunduin's goodbye with a warm feeling in his chest. Quite familiar with dwarven greetings now, he gives the centurion the arm clasp, his leather bracers clinging on dwarven steel.

  "Thank you, commander. And thanks for trusting me with these. I'll make sure they do not fall in foul hands.

  In dire times, remember that you may have an ally in the high skies."

He then moves to Cirostis and clasps arms.
"Beard-Carver, thank you." he says this while brushing some orc blood off his perfectly trimmed beard, decorated with bronze rings which they bought together in Divio.
"If you ever find in yourself the power the change shape, come to me for advice."

Tugdual salutes Arctos in the same way, and adds :
  "Proud and temperamental Daemonslayer, I wish you the best the gods can give, and hope you find peace.

The Druid says a general goodbye to the rest of the dwarven company,and passing by the omnimorphs' chariot, he says :
"I don't know that you hear or understand me... Anyways farewell. You're in good hands with Cirostis.

He moves to the basilica and tries to find a place to rest.

Many of the Dwarf troops are melancholy, seeing their “token tall-one” leaving.

”Always good to have one around,” a Dwarf soldier mentions.  “I’m from Vipicacus, we had bunches of’em.  Sometimes, you’re in a shop, and the top shelf’s a bit too high… oh, and refilling the lamps.  It’s a pain in the butt, dragging the step ladder around, but if there’s a human handy…”

”No lamps around here.  Or shelves.”  Another Dwarf observes.

”Still.  It’s the principle of the thing.”

* * * * *
Leithol agrees with Arctos’s plan.  We must rest a little here, but not long.  Perhaps leave under cover of darkness, and get some distance.  The Huns will react to this, but we do not yet know how.  Whatever the case, our attack here will not remain a secret.  I suspect word is already being passed in the halls of the Hun Overlords.  Time has begun to ebb, and we must hurry.  We shall alert Heolstor; we Elves will plan to move ahead at nightfall.”

* * * * *


In the light of dawn Dunduin takes a break from dealing with wounded, and takes stock of the little town of Tullum.  Gradually, the people here are becoming aware of what happened, and starting to think about what will happen next.  There is a great fear that the Huns will return to reimpose their control, once the troops have moved on.  They fear that they will be punished, if only because the Huns will feel that someone ought to be punished.

Some want to use this opportunity to leave, but there is another complication: food.  It is November, and the food supplies are being stored for the winter.  Moving somewhere else means moving food as well, and that is not easy.  There are very few transport animals available to the town.  Most have been eaten.  There are the pigs- vast herds of pigs, bred to feed the Orcs.  Mobile meat with feet.   Some of the locals are already talking about taking some herds of pigs with them.  It’s risky- if they are caught with them by the Huns, it will hard to explain just why they are stealing food meant for Orcs.

Orcish appetite for animal flesh is the main reason the Orcs tolerate Humans.  As slaves, Humans can raise many pigs, which in turn feed many Orcs.  Orcs are very bad at farming themselves, as brutal violence is not an effective agricultural technique.  But in the process, Orcs generally end up killing a lot of the Humans’ working farm animals.  This means the Humans must work that much harder, without oxen or horses to pull the loads.  That’s alright with the Huns.

Arctos, meanwhile, follows his nose to stables.  He discovers the same issue, from a different direction. Tullum is grossly short of working animals.  Those that exist are generally in poor shape- the lucky survivors that for some reason have not already been eaten.  Others belong to a handful of merchants who happened to be here during the battle, including the few who were in the tavern across from the gate, and pitched in to help the attackers.

These merchants are hastily packing up.  They know that there is a very high chance of extreme badness happening here, soon.  If the Orcs come back, and decide "to teach this town a lesson"...

Arctos happens upon a few of the merchants discussing those very probabilities:

"Personally, I doubt it.  You know most of their armies are gone, pulled out over the summer.  They've left garrisons.  If you commanded the garrison at Nanciacum, what would you do?  Launch a counterattack at Tullum, or assume you're next, and prepare to defend your walls?"

"They're Huns, Staffenos, logic's not their strong point."

"Battle logic is.  But they'll send scouts, to see what happened.  They might be tempted, if they think Tullum is weak and easy.  So I'm taking no chances.  Even a small scouting party could be very dangerous."

A third merchant shakes his head.  "The garrison commanders are jealous of each other.  They'll be afraid of the risks.  They'll each try to maneuver the others into risking his troops on a scouting mission here.  That'll take days."

The one named Staffenos adds; "Likely, we have a few days.  The overlord at Divodurum is the strongest around.  He'll push the others to act.  He's got the priests there, he'll torture a few into giving him divinations, then he'll act.  But I'm still taking no chances.  Anything could happen.  I'm leaving as soon as I can, for Burgundy."

        Arctos eyes the merchants suspiciously, and finds himself asking one
important question of each merchant . . .

        "Wot Merchant Houses doth thee serve?

        The Patre pauses for an answer from each of the merchants . . .

        Once he's learned what Merchant Houses they serve, he asks . . .

        Doth thee hath any Draft Horse teams, War Ponies, ponies, and a large heavy
hauling wagons or two for sale?"

        Arctos awaits the merchants reply with the greatest of expectations.  Whilst
awaiting a reply, he looks over the various merchant caravans that have been gathered
about him and notes what they are comprized of in terms of transport vehicles, mounts,
and wagon horse teams.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:37, Sat 21 Apr 2012.

”House?”  on of the merchants asks.  “Well, I’ve got a fine place in Cabbylona.  I own several houses.”

”He’s talking about families,” the one called Staffenos says.  “Like the great Merchant Houses, generations of wealth and power held by Senators, that sort of thing.”

”Like you,” the merchant from Cabbylona says.

”Well.. there’s been no senate in Burgundy since my grandfather’s time, but yes, we are a  Senatorial family, and the Vebes household is still given high regard and official duties.”

”You clean the streets,” a woman says.

”We organize the labor that cleans the streets,” Staffenos says.  “And we have the right to collect a tax for this purpose.  That is a high obligation, befitting a true Senatorial House.”

”If you say so,” the woman says.

The man turns to Arctos to formally introduce himself.  “Staffenos Vebes, of the Vebes family,” he says.

The one from Cabbylona is Aedelio.  The other man is Tarkos, and he seems to be from much further away.  Somewhere down south.  The woman is Sivelde, and she is Burgundian.

Then they turn to the issue of draft animals.  They have draft animals, but selling them?  Here?  Now?  When they need them to go home?

On the other hand, as Sivelde points out, they are merchants, and therefore, everything has a price.  Well, almost everything.  But that definitely includes the livestock.

If Arctos wants their animals, the merchants want substantially more than the animals would sell for in a spring auction at a farming town.  45 gp for an ox, 75 gp for a mule, 20 gp for a donkey, and nobody wants to sell a horse.

Carts and wagons can actually be scavenged in the town, though, if the Dwarves are willing to put in a little work to make them fully serviceable again.  Same with harnesses.