Both sides were entrenched like a family of Moray eels: hidden from sight, but ready to make a lightning strike, both figuratively and literally. But the mountain folk had a distinct advantage: Falcao, the Mystic of Cascadia, was among their number. He could sense the lie in the river folks position. There would be no surprise by the river folk’s soldiers, their true position being known by the Mystic. Such was the fate of those who attacked the mountain dwellers. The advantage provided by the Mystic of Cascadia was more than what their opponents could compensate for.

So the battle was over before it began. When the river folk sprung their trap, they found the mountain dwellers no where to be seen, just to have them appear at the river folk’s backs, weapons raised, and demanding surrender. The river folks had no other option than complying. They were tied to the masts of their ships, and set adrift to be carried by the current away to the ocean. Such overwhelming victory, and soul crushing defeat, would mar the tenuous relationship between river rat and mountain owl for generations to come.