The normally cynical Charlie Stilton, wanders around the massive encampment with thinly disguised awe on his face.
The more he’s seen of the orcs and gnomes,
the more impressed he’d become.
Impressed that such contrasting peoples
could find a way (even temporarily) to co-exist.
The Orcs were big, brutish and easy to
anger.
The Gnomes were almost as small as he was
but jovial and amicable.
Yet, they not only tolerated each other but
were actively interacting. They really did seem to be working together in a
common cause.
Still the dichotomy between them was
jarring. Brightly patterned and designed silk tents, fascinating air-ships and
alchemic powered devices set between dull hide teepees and crudely constructed,
wooden animal carts.
The athletic little Halfling sauntered
towards the periphery of the camp. After encountering the Snowlbears, the
confounding mist machines, the oblivion moss and the orc guards, he felt
confident that no mercenaries would be able to blunder through to this clearing in any troubling
number.
Charlie then looked up at the open sky
above him…
How though, were the Gnomes keeping
themselves hidden from above?
There are illusions in place to disguise the fires. He can even see the half-visible illusionary tree canopy above him. But surely they can't be enough?
The Black cloaks have raven familiars that would eventually see through the spells...
Squinting at the real trees surrounding the
clearing, the Halfling glimpses something glinting through the branches…
Another Gnomish contraption?
Just then, a large wood pigeon flies through the illusionary tree line.
Charlie sees a momentary flash from one of
the other treetops…
What was that?
Lightning?
The smoldering bird, wings folded, plummets to the
ground, just to be guzzled up by an opportunist guard dog.
‘Aaaah’ smiles Charlie Stilton. Confidence
fills him as he realises why no aerial spies have been able to spot the camp
and report back to the dragon prince.
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