Redwall Abbey

• The Badger Lord at Salamandastron is feeling stretched very thin whilst trying to put out numerous small quarrels around Mossflower. So many hares are away on assignment that there's not many left to so much as guard the mountain
• One ongoing struggle is the Badger Lord's struggle to keep peace in a river otter clan. They are on the brink of civil war and are not interested in hearing what the Badger Lord has to say, even if it is for the good of the region.
• One patrol in particular, sent out to find an elusive outlaw, failed to report in at the start of the season. The Badger Lord thinks this is suspicious, especially since the patrol was in the treacherous northern range of the coastal Western Mountains. Rumors from that area mention a giant has been seen roaming about, among other dangers
• The Badger Lord sends the only hare at the mountain seemingly qualified for a rescue mission, Carmen O'Foster Bobo, to go track down the missing patrol. He does not know that the hare who recommended Carmen made a mistake, and that Carmen is quite possibly the clumsiest and least qualified individual for any job, let alone a rescue mission
• Carmen encounters a settlement along her journey north and learns that many creatures don't really like the Badger Lord anymore, now that they've come to rely on the mountain for support.
• There are terrible storms in the mountains, so great that it feels like the world is being ripped apart. Carmen takes shelter under a rock ledge. She begins to question if the patrol could even be alive in this region
• The very same elusive outlaw that the original patrol was sent to track down stumbles across Carmen. When he tries to sneak up on her, she knocks him out and captures him - completely on accident and without even knowing he was there. The outlaw wakes up bound and is terrified that Carmen is a great warrior
• The outlaw falsely claims to know where the missing patrol is, and leads Carmen to a place he hopes he can escape
• When the outlaw tries to escape, a chase ensues that ends with the outlaw dangling over a giant mountain crevice. Far, far below him on a snow shelf sits the unmistakable faces of the missing patrol staring up at the spectacle
• There are only three survivors of the patrol, one of them the captain. They are all very weak and tired and Carmen begins leading them out of the mountains, outlaw once again bound and in tow
• When the group stops for the night, their campfire draws the attention of mountain barbarians (called the Sazaar), who proceed to ambush the group
• Everything seems hopeless, and as the patrol starts to fall to the enemy, they let out one final 'Eulalia!' which is greeted by a thunderous roar that sends the barbarians scattering. The act ends with The Giant of the Mountain, a staggeringly huge sea otter, standing over the patrol. The only hare who is still conscious looks at the giant in disbelief, thinking that the mountains themselves have sent the giant to kill them.

The second act picks up with Carmen, the missing patrol, the outlaw, and The Giant of the Mountain all arriving at Salamandastron. As it turns out, the giant was not there to kill. Or if he was, he didn't. The Long Patrol has something the giant wants. The Badger Lord is hoping to use this to his advantage...

While the sun warmed the rocky walls of Salamandastron and its surrounding beaches, the wind from the north kept the day from being too comfortable for those outside. Still, the shore would be active with military drills well into the winter season. What truly made the day unusual was the news that had gotten around, and one had only to take a moment to walk across the grounds to hear what it was: Captain Taney Sirgenal's patrol had officially been marked as missing in action. It was printed clearly on the news bulletin. The patrol had allegedly been missing for over a month, and everybeast, from the young leverets running drills on the beach to the generals making their way through packed corridors between meetings, had a theory as to what had happened.
   "He was overrun by Sazaar. Took down a couple 'undred after his patrol was lost an' got overwhelmed, wot. But 'e went down shoutin' more 'eulalias' than ye could shake a stick at!"
   "Th' Sazaar? Bah! Cap'n Dassiter's seen those beasts, donchya know. An' they ain't enough t' take down ole Sirgenal like that, wot. I think that th' chaps got his patrol holed up in some mountain village, probably fightin' off an army o' vermin as we speak. Aye, an winning, too!"
   "Beasts don't live in the Western Mountains, wot. But I overheard th' drill instructor sayin' something 'bout a giant roaming the area. I wouldn't 'ave believed it if I'd heard from jus' anybeast, chaps. But a drill instructor? Now there's somethin', eh?"
   "There are plenty o' rotten vermin hidin' out in th' mountains. I hope they didn't get ambushed. My friend, Reginold, he used to be in Cap'n Sirgenals patrol. I couldn't imagine any livin' beast taking down a group o' hares like them..."
   "What about the weather, eh? Heard it's bad up there an' ye can't see two feet in front o' yer face. Ye think th' patrol got themselves lost?"
   "Nonsense, ole chappo! Jus' cos' yer lost don't mean that the stars don't point north. Sirgenal's not lost – that 'un's quite th' navigator. He spoke t' me once before, did I tell ye that, wot?"
   "Hush, here comes Lord Barbourn's attendant. He'll have yer hide if he hears ye talkin' about this! Heard he's been cracking down on hares all over th' mountain fer talkin' 'bout it."
   Lord Barbourn's attendant swept through the corridor like a phantom of his former self. Face completely devoid of color and an extra-large frown fixed over his already unpleasant features, he made eye contact with the group of chatty cadets as he passed and stopped. The cadets all grinned cheerily and threw polite salutes to the Corporal. Too cheery. Though he wouldn't be able to write them up for something like that. He narrowed his eyes, as if to say, 'I'm onto you lot,' and carried on his way.
    Out on the beach Lord Barbourn's attendant made his way through the ranks of trainees, making several new notes to that ever-expanding list of his. He cursed under his breath for what must have been the hundredth time that day as he passed over the name of Lance Corporal Carmin O'Foster Bobo. He had come to learn about the mission she was sent out on, and the guilt was becoming far too much. His error was responsible for sending that unqualified hare to her death. Why had he not picked anybeast else to go in her place? Now everybeast was talking about how the patrol was probably gone for good. It was not a hard concept to grasp: if one of the mountain's most elite patrols goes missing in the northern mountain range, then it was very safe to think that the single, relatively unqualified granddaughter of the clumsy Captain Bose Bobo would fare any better. It was a soul lost in vain.
   That did it. The attendant decided that he simply had to come forward. Say that he was the one who sent Carmen to her doom. What would it do to his reputation? His rank? Or more importantly, had he sent other hares off to their deaths before? Hares that did not return, yes, but never due to such careless behavior on his part. The Corporal swallowed hard as he made the last note on his list at the end of the ranks, then began to make his way back to the mountain and Lord Barbourn's forge room.
   "Hold it, Corporal." The voice came from one of the drill instructors, Sergeant Scheers. He was an old hare, monocle over one eye and the other one closed permanently. When he leaned forward to speak, the dozen medals on his parade uniform jangled lightly and his words came from under a thick, drooping moustache. "Pray tell, wot, is that the assignment list?"
   The Corporal nodded dumbly and saluted, then defaulted to a relaxed parade position, "Yes, sah. A list of every hare in the Long Patrol both present and away on tour, sah."
   Sergeant Scheers straightened back up in perfect military stature and cleared his throat, "Ah, perfect, yes. Which patrols are due back here today, Corporal?"
   The attendant took a minute to parse through his ever-expanding list and furled his brow when he reached the bottom. "Er, none, Sergeant, sah... May I ask what made you inquire about patrols returning today?"
   The Sergeant snorted through his moustache and stiffened up further. "Ah, well then there must be a mistake, please check again, sah."
   As the Corporal once again read through his list from top to bottom, his curiosity took hold of him and he asked, "I am sorry, Sergeant Scheers. I cannot find any who are due back for at least another few days."
   "Well, certainly that is an error, Corporal, because there appears to be a patrol coming in from the North as we speak, see?" Sergeant Scheers pointed a long, sinewy paw up the beach. Far away, a group of creatures could be seen walking toward the mountain. The Sergeant added, "I suggest that you unbury your face from that parchment and start paying attention to what is happening around you, wot. You there! Young scout, front and center!"
   A cadet broke from the line and dashed towards the drill instructor. Stopping exactly two paces away from him at a stiff attention, the hare threw a salute and belted out in true military fashion, "First Scout Gabriel Goff at yer service, Sergeant Scheers, sah!"
   The drill sergeant kept the scout waiting at attention and turned to Lord Barbourn's attendant. "Young Gabriel, here, has th' sharpest eye of the whole lot. He'll be able to tell us who is coming in. Isn't that right, scout?"
   "Sah, yes, sah!"
   "Good. There is a patrol coming in from the North. Please tell us who it is... Well, hurry up, wot. Haven't got all day."
   "Er, yes sah." Gabriel peered up the shore at the still distant figures making their way toward the mountain fortress. "By th' looks of it, sah, there are three searats – all fisherbeasts, and a... a badger! Aye, th' badger ain't Lord Barbourn, o' course. This 'un is built differently. Don't suppose you know who that could be, would ye, sirs?"
   Both the attendant and Sergeant Scheers shook their heads. A badger? They were certainly not commonplace, but it had happened before. "You're certain of what you see, Scout?"
   Gabriel nodded, "Absolutely, sah. Would bet my reputation on it, sah. My eyes don't lie to me."
   Sergeant Scheers was suspicious. "Very well, then, lad. Pick a runner from the group and set off to meet them. See what it is they're looking for and report back here. Go along, now. Quick's th' word and sharp's the action, wot!"
   Both Gabriel and another hare, a runner, took off like two bolts of lightning down the sandy shoreline, trying to outpace each other and see who would reach the party in the distance first. After a short while, the second runner returned with an enormous grin on her face. Lord Barbourn's attendant asked her what was making her laugh and she answered. "Well sah, I don't think that Gabriel's eyes are working as well as he thought. That is no party of searats and a badger, sah. The party is made up of three hares, one nasty-looking rat, who I suspect is a prisoner, and a sea otter – a great, giant one, sah. I'd think that 'e rivals even our Lord Barbourn in size, if I may be so bold to say so, Corporal."
   Sergeant Scheers' ears pointed straight up, and his one eye grew wide with embarrassment at his young protégé's error. Moustache twitching above his thin lips, he replied, "Ah, ah, well, three hares, a giant sea otter, and a prisoner, did ye say, lass?"
   "Yes sah, technically four. They are carrying one dead with them – they said that they are the 15th Scout Patrol, sah. Not sure who that is, but they're all looking quite weathered, sa"—
   "Th-th-the 15th Scout Patrol?!" Cried Lord Barbourn's attendant, eyes bulging so wide, they looked fit burst.
   The young runner lowered her voice, double and then triple checking that she had said it correctly. Yes, she could have sworn that one of those hares said 15. Not 14, not 13. It was 15. "Erm, yes, sah. 15th Scout Patrol. Is something wrong?"
   Sergeant Scheers had a puzzled look on his face. He turned to the attendant. "I say, 15. That is Captain Sirgenal's very unit if I am not mistaken, wot. The same patrol that was publicly marked missing today?"
   "Ah, gah, bah, bah, y-y-yes sah! That is the very patrol we are looking for!"
   A sense of great excitement and urgency took hold of the hares on the shore and the drill sergeant had to struggle to maintain order in the ranks. "Quit your yappin', you 'orrible sloppy lot! Did ye not hear the lass say that there were only three of 'em and one was dead? Such disrespect will not be tolerated – nay, it will be punished! Now back into your lines, flotsam. There's still work t' be done an' I'll be damned if I let you so much as gaze your eyes on the good Captain as he returns to his mountain. Quit draggin' those paws about and get in your bloody line! You three – no not you, Rowbaggs, you worthless ball o' cotton – I am pointing at you, Master Dargush! You too, Runner Willow. Join your fellow runner here and go meet the patrol down the beach. And when you see First Scout Gabriel Goff, you tell him that as soon as he gets back here, I am going to have him running laps around the fortress until he drops! 'three fishing searats and a badger,' bah! A blind warthog would've given a better description! Embarrassing a superior h'officah like that. I'll have him court martialed!"
   Contrary to the fanfare that the younger cadets on the shore were expecting for the 15th Scout Patrol's return, their arrival emitted a considerably somber tone all around. Sergeant Scheers had his cadets stand at a stiff attention in their ranks as the patrol arrived in an air of perfect silence. Even the waves lapping against the beach seemed to quiet themselves out of respect. Lord Barbourn himself stood on the beach to greet them, along with his attendant and two of his high-ranking officials. He had received word that it was the 15th patrol, and when he saw only three hares – one of whom he recognized as being the scout he sent to find them, Carmen – his heart sank deeply. They were tattered, worn and all injured. After inspecting them, Sergeant Scheers began to understand why, from a distance, they were mistaken as searats. Under normal circumstances, it would have been a sign of disrespect to present oneself in front of Lord Barbourn in such a disgusting fashion.
   The hare in front of the patrol, Carmen, stepped forward and clicked her heels together in salute, perfect in every way save her uniform. "Lance Corporal Carmen O'Foster Bobo, assigned to find and retrieve the 15th Scout Patrol from the Western Mountains, reporting mission status, sah!"
   Lord Barbourns expression was one of stone. He nodded to allow Carmen to continue her report. On either side, more than a hundred others watched the scene, motionless and mute.
   "I present Corporal Ironheart and First Scout Rene Ackerman. They are the survivors of the 15th Scout Patrol expedition thirty-seven, sah. I also present to you the body of Sir Captain Taney Sirgenal. He lost his life bravely fighting for his unit's survival and an honorary burial has been requested by his remaining patrol, sah."
   Behind Carmen, Corporal Ironheart could be seen holding an object wrapped in sailcloth over one shoulder. He sagged under its weight like his bones were merely paper. First Scout Ackerman stood beside him, leaning heavily on a makeshift crutch. Behind both, a great sea otter was looking at Lord Barbourn at eye level, and he held a rope tightly in his paws that was tied to a scrawny-looking and heavily battered rat. Lord Barbourn shifted his gaze to Corporal Ironheart and First Scout Ackerman. It was a considerable challenge to look them both in the eye; such brave creatures! He blinked once, "Permission granted. The ceremony will take place tomorrow morning."
   "Next, sah, I present to you the one known as Marius, giant of the Western Mountains. He rescued us all from a Sazaar ambush and has accompanied us back to Salamandastron to formally request custody of our prisoner, whom we present to you last. This rat claims to be the very outlaw we've been looking for, one Orfeo the Contraptionist, sah."
   The attendant, who was to Lord Barbourn's far left, had been standing with his jaw dropped since he saw Carmen. How could, of all the bumbling, clumsy hares on the mountain, the worst of all of them be sent on a suicide mission to the Western Mountains in search of a missing patrol – one of the most elite patrols – and not only return alive, but with the survivors of the missing patrol, but the outlaw whom said missing patrol was hunting, and delivered by none other than the giant from the north? Had the world been tilted up on its head?
   "You have done your job and more, Lance Corporal, and for that you have my sincerest thanks. Corporal Ironheart, First Scout Ackerman, I mourn with you for the loss of the patrol, as we all do, and I thank you for staying true and loyal to myself and your comrades in the face of defeat. I offer you my deepest condolences. As for your savior, Marius, I thank you for coming to the aid of my hares. If there is anything that can be done to repay the favor, say the word and it shall be done... And, finally, you," Lord Barbourn turned his head to the quivering form of Orfeo, paws still bound in front of him. "You have caused a great deal of pain to many creatures; having you under control will do the world a favor. Keep him in the cellar under tight watch. Do not let anybeast talk to him, I will deal with this wretch tomorrow. You may keep him alive, but that is all. The rest of you, please follow me inside. Let's get some food in you and proper clothes on your backs. I suppose I can lend you some of mine, Marius."


   High up in the great mountain fortress of Salamandastron, in the badger lord's forge room, four creatures stood up from a long, rigid stone table. Corporal Ironheart, Lance Corporal Bobo, and First Scout Ackerman had just finished a nearly two-hour meeting with Lord Barbourn. After cleaning, eating and sleeping a well-deserved sleep through the night of their arrival, and attending the burial of Captain Sirgenal, they were ready for debriefing. Together, the three hares had combed over their journey from beginning to end: entering the mountain region, the storms, the bandits, Sazaar ambushes, hunger, and finally the crevasse, where most of the unit still lay dead and irretrievable, some five days' march from Salamandastron.
    It was no secret that most hares of the Long Patrol died in the field. It was also no secret that the mountain had just suffered an enormous blow in having lost one of its most elite units in generations. Captain Sirgenal had always been revered, and news of his death would undoubtedly take the wind out of the younger hares' sails for some time. But, given time, every hare at the mountain would eventually smirk at the thought: Captain Sirgenal died to a wound in his back only because no beast who ever faced him head-on won. As for Corporal Ironheart and First Scout Ackerman, while giving themselves some time to mourn, each would make spectacular recoveries and be back in the field within a month by their own volition.
     Carmen gave the account of her mission as well. It had never occurred to her how much she had accomplished until she said it aloud, and it made her heart swell with pride. The Bobo's: one of Salamandastron's oldest serving families, notorious for their clumsiness (and extensive history of dropping important and expensive objects), had finally had their name rebranded as one of honor. Shortly after finishing the debriefing, Lord Barbourn requested for Carmen to stay. The attendant pressed an ear to the closed door of the forge room, as he did so often now. Once again, he let his jaw drop when he heard Lord Barbourn promote Carmen to full Corporal and assign her to head a new patrol of rising cadets and scouts.
     "Erhem!" A booming voice came from behind the attendant. He wheeled about, face redder than a beet, and was met with the figure of a stocky hare. The hare seemed to ignore what he had just caught the attendant doing. "My name is Gilad Gower," he said, "I am here to speak with Lord Barbourn."

     Gilad Gower entered Lord Barbourn's forge room. Gilad was a slightly shorter and rather stocky hare of about forty seasons, and a good friend of Lord Barbourn's. While most hares from the mountain were scouts and warriors meant to enforce the peace of the land, should it ever be compromised, it was the job of creatures like Gilad to keep areas of Mossflower Country from ever reaching a point of conflict. In a way, Gilad was an ambassador of Salamandastron. He had spent many weeks, even seasons in some instances, running back and forth between villages and camps, serving as the badger lord's voice abroad. His newest assignment was serving as a voice for the Wunpaw tribe conflict.
     The Wunpaw river otters had recently lost their ruler, River King Sirus the Great, and were stuck in a fight for power between the two sons of Sirus: Prince Ahote and Prince Ohanko. Gilad's job was to prevent any violence from erupting, seeing to the establishment of a new River King, and, most critically, seeing to the dismantling of a dam that had been diverting the Wunpaw Tributary's water into an underground cave and draining water from the River Moss. As if matters were not already difficult enough, the Wunpaw expressed that they would not hear from any ambassador from Salamandastron so long as they were not an otter. Being a mountain fortress of many hares and one badger, Lord Barbourn was out of luck. That is, until he saw Marius arrive at the mountain.
     Gilad walked in and gave a sweeping bow. "Badger Lord Barbourn, you called me, sah?"
     Barbourn nodded and waved his paw to signal Gilad to be at ease. "Yes, Gilad, thank you for coming. I have asked you to come here because I have an update on your assignment. Do you know Marius, the sea otter who arrived here just yesterday?"
     Gilad raised an eyebrow, "Of course, sah! Hard to miss a creature that blinkin' huge – er, pardon me, sah – yes, I know who Marius is... sah."
      Barbourn laughed lightly at his friend's falter, "Excellent. I recall Runner Northock mentioning that the Wunpaw would only listen to an ambassador if they were an otter. Is that correct?"
     "Yes sah. If I may ask, are you seeking to send Marius as your diplomat to diffuse the Wunpaw crisis?"
     Barbourn nodded. "That is my plan, though he does not owe us anything. In fact, we owe him a debt for saving the last of the 15th Patrol. I need to convince him that he wants to help us more still, so I have called you up here for council. You have always had a way in convincing groups of creatures. I need your help convincing Marius that he is to serve as my diplomat."
     Gilad nodded and walked toward the large map hanging from Barbourn's wall. Captain Sirgenal's patrol had been removed from the board. "I will do my best, sah. But what makes you believe that he would ever work with us? More important still, is he a good diplomat?"
     "If the 15th Patrol could trust Marius with their lives, and we have custody of Orfeo the Contraptionist – whose life I have no doubt will be what Marius will request when he comes to see me today – then I have reason to believe that we can both trust the otter and have the potential to get him to do what we need. As for his ability as a diplomat, that is where I would like you to come in, Gilad. I would like for you to travel with Marius. He will be the mask you wear when speaking with the otters."
     Gilad thought for a moment, then nodded. "I see you have thought a great deal about this since I saw you last, sah. Though one more factor to consider is pride. No creature likes to be a puppet, which is exactly what you are asking him to do."
     "I seek your help there. I need you to find a way to make it work. The success of this mission will mean the restoration of the lower River Moss and the prevention of a seemingly inevitable civil war, the likes of which would have devastating consequences."
     "I understand the importance, sah, you do not have to remind me. I do not know anything about this Marius character other than he is enormous and he is an otter. I think the best way that we can gain his cooperation is to first ask nicely. If he has no interest in being my puppet, then make him a wager which he would accept."
     "You want me to gamble the fate of the lower River Moss?"
     "You're in a fight as it is, sah. Challenge him to something which you know you could beat him in. Your title is 'The Brawler', why not challenge the beast to a match?"
     Barbourn thought on this for a moment. "I am getting old, Gilad. I do not fight like I used to."
     "Oh, posh!" yelled Gilad suddenly. "My friend, you're a blinkin' badger! You could be a hundred seasons old and still best every champion in the land. Lord Barbourn the Brawler: does that mean nothing to you?"
     Barbourn smiled inwardly. Perhaps his friend was right. It had been a long time since he had had a good fight one-on-one. "And the terms, Gilad?"
     "If you win, he serves as your diplomat for this mission and you hand over the life of Orfeo the Contraptionist when he returns. If you lose, then he gets Orfeo immediately and we are back to where we started. Er, he only wants Orfeo so that he can kill him, right, sah?"
     "It certainly looks that way. He comes off as a creature who has blood on his mind, and Corporal Bobo voiced that he only came to the mountain to request Orfeo's life. Orfeo is going to be sentenced to death for his crimes, there is no doubt about it. But Marius may only believe we wish to keep Orfeo as a prisoner."
     Gilad clapped his paws together, "Spectacular, then the plan is settled! Make you wager to him when he asks for Orfeo, win your match and we will be on our way to the Wunpaw settlement in a few days time!"
     Lord Barbourn laughed, "Excellent, thank you for your council, Gilad. You are a faithful friend and wise consul."
     "My pleasure, sah. I shall go make my preparations at once." Gilad threw a salute and made his way to the door. Stopping short, he called back to Barbourn, "Oh, sah, do try to make it convincing. As confident as we are, this plan is still delicate."


     Hardly an hour after Gilad's meeting with Lord Barbourn, the attendant knocked on the forge room door to inform that Marius had come with a request.
     Lord Barbourn permitted Marius to enter. As the heavy oaken door closed behind him with a gentle thud, Marius' eyes scanned the room. He was impressed with the collection of battle arms strewn across the high walls of the chamber and did not bother hiding his amusement.
     "I see you like my collection! It is one component of the legacy we rulers of the mountain leave behind. Are you perhaps interested in one?"
     Marius smiled but shook his head no. "I am here because I would like to receive your favor." It was the first time Lord Barbourn had heard the beast talk. The otter's voice was deep and heavy, like Barbourn's. It was also the first time that Lord Barbourn had a chance to get a good look Marius. The sea otter was absolutely a giant. His fur appeared to be long and very coarse, like it had been frozen and thawed many times. His paw claws were long, sharp and unkempt things. He should have had the appearance of a savage, but his face was actually rather handsome. Perhaps it was because he wore the Badger Lord's clothes? Though even those were humble.
     Lord Barbourn gestured for the great otter to sit and poured a bottle of mountain wine into his chalice. "I was expecting that would be the reason for your visit. What is it you wish to have?"
     Marius touched the cup in front of him but did not sip out of it. "I would like the prisoner, Orfeo."
     Lord Barbourn furled his brow and nodded. "I recall Carmen had mentioned something about that, though I was never told why it is you are after this creature. You must want him quite a lot if you were willing to both save my patrol's life and follow them back here."
     "Respectfully, Lord Barbourn, my reasons for hunting the outlaw are my own. But know that I am unwilling to give up my hunt."
Lord Barbourn paused for only a half second, "Orfeo was an enemy of Mossflower and needed to be apprehended. As of yesterday afternoon, he is mine to own. You only want to kill him?"
     "Yes, sir."
    "That is all?"
    "That is all, sir."
     Lord Barbourn sat thinking for a moment. "It is not the way of the Long Patrol to kill an unarmed prisoner. We were intending on keeping him alive, but in a cell below the mountain. I do not play lightly with life."
     "I understand that, sir. But if it were not for me, you would not have your 15th Patrol nor Orfeo. I traveled here with your hares to make this request out of respect. I ask that you return my favor in the same fashion." Said Marius, hardly a hair moving on his body.
     "Asking me to go back on my word on killing prisoners is not a small favor, no matter how respectfully you ask... How long have you been chasing this outlaw?"
     "It has become the only thing I can remember."
     Lord Barbourn stood up and paced toward his map hanging on the wall. With his back to Marius, he stared at the pin that marked the Wunpaw river otter settlement on the tributary off the River Moss. "So, this has been a life-long mission, then?" He paused, "I must admit, Marius, you have caught me in a tight predicament. If I refuse to grant your request, I will be going back on my word that I would give you anything you asked for. Yet, if I do grant your request then I would be again going back on my word to keep Orfeo alive."
     Marius nodded understandingly, "Then what will you do?"
     Lord Barbourn pulled the pin from his map and brought it over to the table. "Seeing as we are both respectable beasts, and you have caught me at a crossroads, I propose that we settle the agreement through a wager."
     Marius was caught off-guard but nodded his head. "Okay, what will be the terms of your wager and how will they be settled?"
     "I propose a friendly match against one another, no weapons nor armor. The first to pin the other's shoulders to the ground will win. If you win, then I will hand you Orfeo and that is all. However, if you lose, I will still give you Orfeo, but there is a favor that I must ask of you."
     Lord Barbourn placed his map pin onto the table. Marius eyed it then looked at Barbourn. "I do not understand. The purpose of this wager was to decide which word you would go back on. What is the favor you are looking for?"
     "I would be going back on my word, yes. But I would be trading the life of one outlaw for the lives of hundreds of creatures who are under my protection. I need an ambassador to diffuse a conflict within a settlement on the brink of Civil War. If war happens, then the lives of hundreds of innocent creatures in surrounding settlements will be put at risk. I have sent my best to investigate the issue, but they have voiced that they will only listen to an otter, not a hare and not a badger. I need you to be my mode of delivering justice, someone to relay the words my ambassador speaks to keep the peace. After you finish your work there, success or failure, Orfeo will be yours and you will be free to go."
     Now it was Marius' turn to think for a moment. The deal now seemed too good to refuse. Lord Barbourn was handing him the life of the outlaw in both scenarios, which was what he had always been after. But how much trouble would this diplomatic mission be in the end? His thoughts were cut off by Barbourn again. "What do you say, Marius? You get your prize either way. Do we have a deal?" He stuck a paw out to Marius.
     Marius reviewed the decision again in his head. He was not a selfish creature, and he sympathized with the Badger Lord's predicament. The favor sounded sincere, but also like a great deal of work. If conflict did break out, would the Badger Lord deny that Marius was his ambassador to save face? Sure, there were the fighting hares who could put down a conflict by force, should they need to. But what would become of Marius then? There was a great deal of uncertainty to consider, but something deep within the giant otter was saying to accept the deal. So, after another moment passed, Marius finally reached his paw out to Lord Barbourn's and shook it.


   It is said that Salamandastron is a strange place, perhaps even mystic. From the ancient era where the mountain was said to have been home to a dragon, to the age of the Badger Lords, the mountain had a history shrouded in a thick fog of mystery. In the long line of beasts to have ruled from the mountain, almost all of them could testify to having, at one point or another, guidance from a dream or vision. Even those abroad from the mountain had experienced mystic elements pointing them to the distant fortress. That night, as Marius the giant slept in one of the mountain's many chambers, carved from stone and edges worn smooth over generations of use, he too experienced something strange.
   In the realm of sleep, Marius found himself sitting in a void. He moved his head around in a dazed manner and could feel the movement of his muscles lagging behind his mind, which willed to move. Waving a paw in front of his face, he watched as it blurred across his field of view. Was he drunk? He had not had anything potent for dinner that night. A voice sounded, but Marius did not hear it with his ears. It came like a thought into his mind and spoke few words to him.


     "My time, what does that mean? What are you talking about?" It felt like the words were falling out of Marius' mouth and away, perhaps never having made a sound at all. Slowly the voice faded and repeated,


     The dream faded, and Marius slept on. When he woke, a hare asked him if he slept well. He did not make any mention of the strange vision from the night before. He had no recollection that it had ever occurred.

It only took a few hours before the news leaked. With the anxious and eager response that had been generated by the hares on the mountain, one would have thought that the fortress was going to be invaded that very afternoon. Hares in the dining hall talked about it without end. The drill instructors and generals seemed to be the only ones who could keep it together. Even the hares, after several hours of their grueling training on the cold beach, whispered to one another as they marched along in their drills. The afternoon was shaping out to be a dreary one for weather, which only seemed to make every cadet the more eager for the day to end. Nobody could silence the worst-kept secret that was going around: Lord Barbourn and the giant otter were set to face off in a match that very evening! The exact time and place on the mountain, however, was entirely unknown. Hence every single creature wanted to find out (though none seemed like it would be appropriate to ask the otter, nor pester the badger lord himself, as all hares assumed both beasts must have been getting ready all day for the fight).

"I heard from Rowbaggs that it's going t' be in the forge room. Nobody but the generals 're invited to watch the fight," came a murmur into one young leveret's ear. She replied in scarcely a whisper as the drill instructor approached for inspection,

"Rowbaggs doesn't know what he's talkin' bout, wot. I heard from Boucher, who knows Sergeant Sabine, who knows Barbourn's attendant, that it'll be in the mess hall, so beasts can watch."

The hare in front of them, named Cadet Fleming, kept her head forward as she whispered back, "You know Boucher. He's always stretchin' the truth. I heard the whole thing's a rumor and the fight's not even going t' happen."

"Not true, Fleming," chimed in yet another, "M' friend, Ed Whatley knows Gilad Gower, th' diplomat. He said Gilad's th' one who arranged th' whole affair, wot!"

"I've never heard of 'im." Replied Fleming.

Unfortunately for Cadet Fleming, she had not realized everybeast stop talking simultaneously. She looked up to see the drill sergeant staring her down. "Do you have something to say to everybeast, Cadet?"

Fleming stiffened up. "Sah! Nothing, sah!"

"Is that so, Cadet? I don't suppose your little 'nothing' had something to do with the match between our badger lord and the otter, eh, wot?"

Fleming gulped and shook her head. "No, Sergeant, sah! Abso-balley-lutely not, sah! Specifically, not that, sah! Was only blowin' away a bit o' sand that got in m' mouth, sah!"

"Oh, so you like munchin' on sand, do ye Cadet?"

"Er, yes, sah -I-I mean no, sah, er, I – "

"Quit your yappin', I didn't ask for an answer, you lazy excuse for a Long Patrol hare! Next time I see it happen, I'll replace your supper with a bowl o' sand t' teach you a lesson." The drill sergeant then turned about to continue moving down the line. Before proceeding, he murmured out the side of his mouth, so quietly that Cadet Fleming almost missed it, "An' let me know if you figure out where the fight is tonight. That's an order." And he marched on.

The day wore on into evening. Weary leverets marched in from the beach to wash while the few officers still at the mountain sat in the mess hall. All conversation was still on the fight. Hares waited around anxiously and chattered away noisily. All eyes glanced at the staircase at the end of the mess hall, from which Lord Barbourn descended most evenings from his forge room. Those who weren't looking at the staircase had their friends keep a lookout for them. The excitement was almost too much for everybeast. Bets were wagered, and increasingly heated debates went on about who was going to win. Nobody knew for sure where the rumor came from, but that did not matter. Those who were trying to figure it out found themselves lost in a crisscrossed maze of 'he said' and 'she said' anecdotes that rarely stayed consistent from one table to the other.

Evening dragged on and dinner was served. Still nothing from the grand staircase. It was suspicious at best: Lord Barbourn almost always dined with the hares, why not now? Had the match – that is, if it was real and not just a rumor – really been held in the forge room? Was it the correct day? Hares were beginning to get discouraged when suddenly the room went quiet. The large, unmistakable shadow of Lord Barbourn appeared at the end of the stairway. A single hare – the only one who had not noticed the noise in the mess hall die off – kept on with his conversation, about to make his grand point he had been thinking about all day. The poor lad was nearly tackled by his friends to shut him up.

Lord Barbourn was now in the room and it was clear he had something to say. He looked around the mess hall silently. He was garbed in a simple tunic and trousers, not his usual parade uniform worn at dinners. At his side stood Gilad Gower, the ambassador. Lord Barbourn knew why everybeast was quiet, and so he thought to capitalize on it. He gestured to the very center of the mess hall. "Clear the center tables and move them aside, please." The room immediately broke out into excited 'Wooo's and 'Oooh's. Seemingly everybeast leapt at the opportunity to clear the middle of the room. Loud conversation rose up but just as quickly died off when the badger lord waved his heavy paw. "I see that word has gotten out about a certain match between myself and our honorable guest, Marius the sea otter. Perhaps some context should be provided..." Hardly had the words that followed, 'yes, there is to be a match tonight in the mess hall,' been spoken than did the mess hall erupt into a deafening cheer from the young leverets, and even some of the officers. Gilad Gower restored silence with a loud whistle and a brief scolding to all hares present. Lord Barbourn gave the context of the wager he had made with Marius and the importance of the situation involving the Wunpaw tribe. It was hard to get any words in with all the excitement in the air. The small speech ended with Lord Barbourn gesturing to the opposite end of the room, where Marius, in a similar garb as the badger lord, was lead in by a pair of officers, one of them Corporal Bobo. Again, the room erupted into cheers.

Corporal Bobo nudged Marius with her elbow, about at his waist height. "Alright, chap. Can't say all these buckos in this mess hall will be cheerin' for you. Not since they've all sworn loyalty to Lord Barbourn, wot. But! You can bet on at least one of us cheerin' you on. I'll be screamin' me blinkin' ears off for ye!"

Marius tried to suppress a smile but failed. He had grown to enjoy the clumsy hare's company since he found her and the others in the mountains. "Thank you, Corporal Bobo. I have talked with Lord Barbourn a fair bit today. I think I'm just as excited as the rest of you for a good match." He smiled at the badger lord at the other end of the room, nodded to him, and was lead to the middle of the mess hall. Lord Barbourn returned the nod and met Marius halfway.

"I appreciate you being willing to put on a show for my hares. Of course, there is still time to change your mind and move this match to the forge room."

Marius grinned. The two shook paws; it was like two boulders coming together. "Not a problem, Lord. I am no stranger to performing. Your hares put out a lot of energy, let it feed the competition for us."

"May be better beast win."

A brawny hare with a heavy brow and wide shoulders, entirely dwarfed next to the two titans, was to officiate the match. With a piece of chalk, he made a wide, circular ring about the center of the mess hall. "The rules are simple," he said, unable to keep himself from smiling, "to win a match, one must either pin the opponent's shoulders on the ground or eject them from the ring. General Whitney will signal the beginning and end of a match by striking a gong." Here General Whitney, a portly and aged lass, swung a mallet at a sizable gong situated next to her. There was no doubt that anybeast would not hear it, even in the excitement of a match. "No creatures are to intervene with the match unless I dictate that it is necessary. The opponents may only grapple and throw. No biting, clawing, spiting, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera... The first to win two matches will be crowned victor. Now, Lord Barbourn, Marius, are you both ready?"

The two giants nodded their heads. The brawny referee wished them both luck, then signaled to General Whitney to start the match.

BOOOOONG!

This was it! The match between Barbourn the Brawler, Lord of Salamandastron, and Marius the sea otter, Giant of the Western Mountains, ran forth and met each other in the middle of the ring like two mountains colliding. A thunderstorm could not have produced as much energy as was in the mess hall at that moment. Hares everywhere, foolishly thinking just seconds ago that they would be able to hold their seats, were standing on tables, standing on each other, jumping, practically hanging from the rafters. A group of militarist hares is perhaps the very last thing that was resembled by the scene that night. The pure insanity of it all was just too much to keep down.

Lord Barbourn had received the title of 'the Brawler' for a reason. He knew a fight and had not been beaten yet in recent memory. Then again, he had never faced an opponent quite like Marius. This was not like facing the wildcat corsairs of bygone seasons. This was facing a real giant, and one who was rugged and toughened from life in the harshest place in Mossflower and its surrounding country. As Lord Barbourn soon found out, he could not just use his weight and muscle this time to overpower his foe. The giants were evenly matched and would have to use skill.

Barbourn had managed to push the otter back until he was nearly at the edge of the ring. This was where Marius stopped him. As if digging his footpaws into the very stone of the floor, no force was going to be able to move the otter another inch. Realizing his opportunity in having all of Marius' weight pushing into him, Lord Barbourn made a move. Pivoting his footpaw and wrapping his arm about Marius, Lord Barbourn executed a flawless, albeit strained, toss. Marius sailed briefly across the ring, landing at the other side on his back. The whole mountain seemed to shake from the impact and the cheering that followed.

However, hardly had Lord Barbourn the time to regain his composure than was Marius once more upon him. Getting up and charging forward on all four paws, Marius leapt at Lord Barbourn like a tiger. It was another thunderous impact. Together, the two giants sailed out of the ring and landed with a thud, much larger than the last. The gong sounded, and the referee called the match a tie.

The noise from the hares was almost deafening! The two opponents untangled themselves from one another and shook paws on the way back to the ring. Quickly getting back into a ready position: crouched, paws up and ready to grapple, and eyes locked. The gong rang, and the second match was on! This time, Marius tried to be more cautious in his movements. He and Barbourn went back and forth, pressing each other to nearly the edge of the ring before somehow coming back and saving it all at the last possible moment. The highlight of the match finally came when the great sea otter managed to pick Lord Barbourn up by the waist over his shoulder. Under the crushing weight of the Badger Lord, Marius staggered to the edge of the ring, intent on throwing him out. But it was not to be, for right as Marius reached the edge, Lord Barbourn wrestled free and wiggled himself over Marius' shoulder and down the back. In one swift motion as he tumbled downward, head-first, Barbourn grabbed Marius' footpaws and used his falling momentum to pull the otter down onto his back. A quick readjustment and Lord Barbourn had the great sea otter pinned.

BOOOOONG!

"The second match belongs to Lord Barbourn!" cried the referee.

With one tie and one match won, what came next could have been the final round. Marius was determined to not make it so. He had been attacking his opponent with unchoreographed, unplanned moves. Simply doing what felt natural and trying to learn how his opponent fought. While Lord Barbourn gave a triumphant wave to his hares to further increase the madness of the audience, Marius began to piece together his next move.

When the gong sounded, Marius did not charge forward. Instead he let the badger come to him. The momentum of the great creature was almost too much to stop from a stationary position. But the otter proved himself in standing his ground once more. Using the Badger Lord's forward momentum, Marius turned it into an opportunity to throw his opponent. It worked, but sloppily. Lord Barbourn hit the ground not far from the outside of the ring. Marius too found himself thrown to the ground, but still in the center where he started. Scrambling upright, Marius was able to get to Lord Barbourn before he himself could get up. This time, Marius watched himself and tried not to let his own momentum carry him out of the ring. He descended upon Lord Barbourn and tried to pin his shoulders down. Lord Barbourn rolled to his side, using his tail to keep balance, until the positions were reversed and now the badger was on top. His tail! Why had Marius not considered it before? The great sea otter had a rudder that was certainly more powerful than that of the badger's.

Just as it looked like the Badger Lord was going to pin Marius down once again, the otter levered himself off his powerful rudder and broke free. Once more, the two wrestled themselves back up into an upright lock. Bodies strained against the strength of the other, breathing heavily in the stifling heat that was filling the mess hall with all the shouting and movement, the two refused to give an inch to the other.

It was not a matter of overpowering the other, it was a matter of waiting for the other to mess up. All that Lord Barbourn thought he needed to do was wait for Marius to falter just once and his problem in dealing with the Wunpaw tribe would be solved. The trouble was, however, that Marius did not make the first mistake. In faltering in his focus for just a moment, Lord Barbourn's strength waned just enough for Marius to reach in for another throw. With a twist and a heave, Lord Barbourn found himself with his head and neck wrapped by the otter's arms, then being thrown in a flipping motion past the edge of the ring. He landed in a heap, only inches from a crowd of hares at their tables. They all cheered Lord Barbourn on, who took a moment to regain his composure before standing upright again. It was a big throw to have made!

The gong sounded, and the referee announced that Marius was the victor of round three. Now it came down to this next match. Assuming no more ties, one of the two were going to walk away with their part of the wager fulfilled.

Both beasts were tired, and it showed in the slight hesitance the two showed in starting the next match. When the gong sounded, the cheers in the mess hall reached an all-time high and seemingly continued to do so for the entire duration of the match. The two titans grappled in the middle of the ring once again. Lord Barbourn knew that he would be able to get the upper paw if he could get the otter on the ground. The longer he stayed upright, the less likely he felt he would be able to come out on top. Marius was a brawler, like Lord Barbourn was, but not as skilled as him. While throwing took might, pinning the other down would take skill, and that is where Lord Barbourn was determined to achieve victory.

Marius, too, knew this. And so, every movement the otter made was to keep the Badger Lord on his feet and in intense locks. On one occasion in which Marius managed to knock the badger down, he waited for him to stand back up before continuing, pretending to be taking a break. Lord Barbourn knew what was happening. It was going to be difficult keeping the otter down.

Minutes passed as the two continued the match. With each risk one of them took, whether it was rewarded or exploited and reversed, it was met with resounding cheers from the hares looking on. Crowding closer and closer to the edge of the viewing area, not daring to blink in case something was missed, they all watched on with fervor at the clash of the titans. Then came the game-changing moment that sealed the fate of Mossflower's Wunpaw tribe and those who thrived off the River Moss.

Marius had managed to get a hold on the great badger and pivoted to pull him over Marius' shoulder. It would have certainly been the end of the match had Lord Barbourn not held on to the back of Marius' tunic and neck with his free paw. Instead of Lord Barbourn being flung across the room and out of the ring, the two tumbled to the ground with Lord Barbourn coming out on top. Still recovering from the shock of the failed throw, Marius fought frantically to keep his shoulders above the ground. But the gong had already sounded. The match belonged to the Badger Lord.

Pandemonium was everywhere as the hares abandoned their seats and rushed the ring, holding their fearless Badger Lord up, patting him on his back, cheering and hollering the whole while. Marius, too, found himself in the midst of the action as he was pulled upright by a group of stout beasts. Over the heads of the increasingly cheery mob-like crowd around them, Lord Barbourn held out a paw,

"That was quite the fight, my friend. I would be honored if we could do it again sometime. It's been ages since I've had a good brawl like that!"

Marius took the badger's paw in his own. "Perhaps when I return from your errand. A good fight does a beast good!"

While seasons would come and go, and eventually the mountain would find a new set of creatures to occupy itself, it is worth noting the significance of that match between the Badger Lord and he who would soon gain the title 'Colossus'. In the midst of tragedy and turmoil: the loss of the 15th Scout Patrol and Sir Captain Taney Sirgenal, the weariness of the Long Patrol and stress of seasons wearing thin on many, 'The Match' would turn into a piece of history – a key turning point in the morale of the Long Patrol. For they learned that day that even their aging Badger Lord was still enough to maintain order. Not even the giant from the north, in all his grandeur and strength, and whom was now a dear friend and welcome sight to Salamandastron, could stop the Badger Lord. It was encouraging and a morale boost, if nothing else.

That night, Marius witnessed another dream, much like that of his first. Again, the otter found himself sitting in a void. There was complete silence and Marius looked about himself, perplexed. Much like the first night, the voice sounded. But this time Marius could have sworn that he heard it with his ears. It was an ancient voice, like that of an elder. Still, it was strong and deep, and it rumbled toward him like a flood,


Marius opened his mouth to answer the voice, "Who are you?" But no sound came forth; he was mute. He tried again and again but it was useless. Was this a nightmare? He began to think about the words the voice had said to him when there came a tremendous cracking noise from behind him and a resounding boom. Marius felt himself get ripped away from the dream and back into consciousness. He sat upright and let out a growl. The noise came again, and he turned his head to face the open window. It was raining outside, and thunder rumbled in the distance. It was only a storm. Marius breathed a sigh of relief, then laid himself back down on his bed. But, for the life of him, he could not remember what he had experienced just before waking up.


Noontime of the next day saw Marius, giant of the Western Mountains, leaving Salamandastron with Gilad Gower, personal ambassador of the Badger Lord. Together, the two would make a journey up the River Moss, up the Wunpaw tributary, and finally insert themselves into a conflict that was growing closer and closer to a civil war by the hour. Thus far, no blood had been shed by the Wunpaw and no River King had been crowned. But it was only a matter of time before things reached a breaking point. The fate of the entire lower River Moss now sat on the shoulders of the giant.

The going was easy for Marius and Gilad Gower. One having been accustomed to the endless hiking required to navigate the Western Mountains, and the other being a seasoned Long Patrol hare, the walk from the mountain fortress to the mouth of the River Moss was one of relative ease. The two did not know each other. All that Gilad had known was: this otter nearly beat Lord Barbourn in a wrestling match, he is personally trusted by the Badger Lord himself, and that he is to serve as Gilad's 'mask' in talking to the Wunpaw tribe. The pressure on Gilad's shoulders was immense, and he felt responsible for how Marius would speak to the Wunpaw community. Gilad deemed that if he was to work with this beast, he would need to know a little bit about him, specifically how he was at talking.

"So, Marius, you're really from the Western Mountains?"

"Yes." Came the reply. Not quite as wordy as Gilad was hoping for, but it was at least a start.

"Were you born there?"

"I do not think so. I just remember being in the mountains. It's been perhaps a season or so. Almost everything before that is blank to me. Thinking about it hasn't gotten me anywhere."

"Lord Barbourn told me that you had been hunting Orfeo for as long as you can remember. May I ask how you know him?"

"Is this an interrogation?"

Gilad smirked, "This is just me trying to get to know you. We'll be doing a lot together and I like to know who it is I am working with. You said you remember almost nothing of before you were in the mountains? As in you do remember something from before?"

"Ah... I was in a traveling troupe in the far south. Southsward was the name of the region. Seasons ago, when I was still young, some scum tried to take the crowns from the King and Queen. He surrounded their castle with soldiers and threatened to lay waste to the countryside. Some way or another, the villain was driven off and thought to never be seen again."

Gilad's smirk widened into a grin. He was not grinning at the otter's story. Rather, how quickly it seemed this creature was opening up to him.

"By the time I was older, I joined a traveling troupe. I don't remember a time where I wasn't bigger than everybeast else, so I became the strongbeast of the group."

"Every traveling troupe needs a strongbeast!" Marius nodded in reply but did not say anything. Gilad stowed his grin and tried to keep Marius going. "I'm sorry for interrupting. Please, keep going."

"I performed many times in the South."

"Were you and your fellow performers close?" Marius grumbled at the second interruption and forced Gilad to back-track a bit. "Okay – okay, I will stop talking until you're finished."

"We were very close, of course. As much like a family as any real one. Many acts needed the trust from other members and so many strong bonds were formed.
     "However, the same scum who had been chased out of Southsward returned, many seasons after they had first tried to take the crowns. And this time, they had brought war machines with them. Very powerful ones that ripped apart the defenses of the kingdom. I do not know how, but it was discovered that a single creature was responsible for the creation of these machines. It was disastrous, the countryside was reduced to ash. My troupe and I aided the crown's efforts. Our cart was used to distribute supplies. I pulled it into the front, delivered what I could and pulled the cart back out, loaded up with injured. I met and lost many friends this way.
     "In the end, by some miracle, the victors still remained the King and Queen of Southsward."

Here Marius paused for a moment and Gilad jumped in. "You know, the Long Patrol and Lord Barbourn himself were part of the effort to oust the villains."

Marius raised an eyebrow at the hare. "Really?"

"Yes! In fact, I remember marching there alongside my comrades. Must've been more than ten seasons ago now. Never saw battle meself, though. My job was, when Lord Barbourn needed it, to work as reconnaissance and a diplomat. I can remember locals bringing supplies to the front now and again, they were all quite kind to us."

Marius gave a laugh, "Did you ever see a bright green and red circus cart? I would have been the one pulling it."

"You know, chap, I was not thinking of it before. But now that you mention it, I believe that I may have seen the very thing you're talking about once or twice. It had stars on it and a name in yellow – what was it?"

"Madame Milton's Merry Parade!"

Gilad snapped his paws, "That was the very one! Well, what a thing to bewilder! I hadn't any idea that our paths had crossed before. So, if you were helping the war effort, how is it that you came up here to the North?"

Marius continued his story. "With the villain executed, their machines destroyed, and their army reduced to nothing, they were beaten. Very few creatures cared, though. They all called for the blood of Orfeo – the one responsible for building the machines that destroyed the entire countryside.
     "I had heard a rumor from some vermin about his whereabouts. It lead me to believe that Orfeo was fleeing north along the coast. I gave pursuit, as did my troupe. Part-way up the coast, we spotted the rat. He was with a big group of corsairs – I suppose he bartered something with them or knew them in some way. I think the name of the ship was Amun, or something like it. I cannot quite remember. The corsairs were boarding when I charged in. I suppose I got these many pin-hole scars from somewhere. Arrows? I don't remember anything after that except waking up in the mountains. I could have sworn creatures were calling my name at first, but in the time that followed, I found the wind often sounded like creatures talking as it moves down the slopes. Truly taunting."

Gilad waited a few seconds. "I see. That's how you knew Orfeo had to be captured. But how did you know that he was hiding in those mountains?"

"I didn't. But hares that came through mentioned it, I suppose they were from Salamandastron. Noise travels in the mountains. Even down the slope from them, I heard every word they spoke. 'Orfeo is here somewhere, chaps, keep your eyes peeled, wot!' they would say to each other. And so, I knew. In my wandering I had come across a few patrols. They looked like small parades every time I saw them."

"Did you ever approach them before you saved the 15th patrol from the Sazaar?"

"Sometimes. There was more than one occasion in which I saw them on peaks, or higher or lower on the mountain – too far away to reach. The times I was close enough, the weather was rarely in my favor. I would approach, and they would back off, as if I were danger."

"That would be where the rumors of the 'Giant of the North' came from. It only popped up recently. The last season or so. Did you ever run into Sazaar?"

"Yes."

"...And?"

"They knew who I was. They would say 'he's back! The mountain did not kill him!' I would follow them sometimes – I had no clue what or who they were at first. I was hoping they could tell me more about me. But they avoided me altogether. Said I was immortal."

"And you don't know why?"

"No. They would only say that the mountain could not kill me, so nothing would. I don't understand it. The mountains didn't kill many beasts, like your patrols."

"The Sazaar are certainly a mysterious group. You know they're hares, too, right? The very young survivors of a village raid, they were cast into a river and swept away. They awoke in the mountains and believed that they had been given powers. Since then they have grown up adopting a way of life that is very barbaric. They must be all mad."

"Madness..." said Marius, his face scrunched into a perplexed thought. Why did the shape of a mouse pop into his head when he heard that word? Just as soon as it was there, his thoughts trailed off. Gilad was talking again.

"Can you think of anything else? Any other major events that you can think of?"

Marius continued to puzzle. "No. I can't."

"That's fine. Maybe you'll find something along this trip that'll jog your memory?"

"Hmm, maybe."

The pair continued to walk on in silence for a few minutes before Marius asked about Gilad's story. He had been waiting for Marius to ask him and he kept his history rather brief, "I was born at Salamandastron forty seasons ago. Lord Barbourn was not yet the Badger Lord – he would come some ten seasons later. Growing up, I had my sights on being a runner. The passion was there for it, but alas the motivation was not. Contrary, I was much better at reading and studying theory." He paused to see if Marius would ask him anything. When he did not, Gilad continued, "Theory of anything, really. Mostly carpentry, speaking, geography, some music... Random things here and there, really.
     "Despite my lack of effort, I became a runner. My job was to do a big loop to a Northern settlement with another, more seasoned fellow. We were to check on the status of the settlement and report back any concerns they had. While my partner and I were there, we found the place in shambles! The whole lot of creatures there couldn't agree on a single thing. Always bickering an' such. Well, it's not the responsibility of the Long Patrol to settle quarrels, not unless they're a threat to other beasts. But it just so happened that my partner and I were able to figure out a way to solve it and leave everyone happy. Er, almost everyone happy. Anyway, from then on, I've had a heart for being an ambassador and consultant. Of course, I had to prove myself over many seasons before I could become appointed, and I also had to learn to know the Badger Lord, too. Saw many things in the seasons between my first run and now. Enough to know that the mission we are on should not be taken lightly in the slightest. This is real danger we're going into. If not for us, then for the many, many creatures who live on the River Moss. In a way, it's not different from the struggles you encountered in Southsward."

"Have you ever seen battle?" Said Marius.

"Yes, but I never did much fighting myself. If fighting breaks out, that means I failed. And I hate failure, I absolutely detest it. People say you learn from failure, which may be true. But more creatures are left alive when there's only success in my field."

"I see."

"This actually brings me to discussion on our mission. I am aware that you know what is happening, but only to an extent. I have been asked to fill you in on the details so that we make no mistake in our dealings with the Wunpaw.
     "You see, the Wunpaw is a tribe of river otters situated on a tributary of the great River Moss. I suppose you've never seen it before, but it's a really grand site: sometimes a mile wide! Anything like that in the Western Mountains?"

"No. Not that I can think of. I don't recall anything of that size in Southsward, either."

"Well something to note is just how many creatures depend on that river for their ways of life. The tributary that the Wunpaw is situated on is one of the largest contributors to the river. The tribe has built a dam on the tributary and redirected the flow into some underground cave or something. It has to do with their tradition that the water can only flow when there is a River King to rule over it. The Wunpaw have lost their River King and are arguing over who should be the new ruler. Until a ruler is chosen, the water won't flow. And if the water doesn't flow, the level of the River Moss drops greatly. And when the level of the River Moss drops greatly, navigation of it becomes difficult and other settlements start to suffer."

"That's about how much I've been told. Why can they not pick a new ruler? Or why can they not just let the water flow while they decide?"

"One word, my giant friend: tradition. The Wunpaw stick to their traditions very rigidly. There is no workaround for them – trust me, I've explored that option with my team and we could not find any way around it. As for why the Wunpaw cannot pick a new ruler, that is where our story begins. Allow me to explain:
     "It all started when the chief of the Wunpaw tribe, River King Sirus the Great, rapidly fell ill and passed away without warning. He had been ruling over the Wunpaw tribe for nearly forty seasons and had always been in fine health. Well, his two heirs, Prince Ahote and Prince Ohanko, are now conflicted as to who deserves the throne. During his father's decline in health and after his death, Prince Ahote also fell ill. Many suspected that he, too, would die. Prince Ohanko, his brother, then approached the Wunpaw's high council – a group of elders who consult the crown but do not rule – and asked if he could ascend the throne. The council agreed but stated that, since Prince Ahote is older, he is to ascend the throne first. Therefore, Prince Ohanko was told to wait until his brother died to become the new River King. Does that make sense so far?
     "Now, against all odds, and rather miraculously, Prince Ahote made a full, rapid recovery! And before he could be crowned as the next heir to the throne of the River King, Prince Ahote accused his brother of poisoning their father and himself! He said that it was too suspicious that both he and the late King Sirus fell ill at the same time. Seeing as Prince Ohanko had also asked the high council if he could skip his brother's place in line to the throne and become River King, it did not help his cause.
     "Prince Ohanko then returned the favor, accusing the other of treason as well, claiming that Prince Ahote had always felt jealous and threatened by him, and that he wanted an excuse to banish him and capitalize on their good father's death.
     "A divide emerged in the community, an almost even split! One of these two brothers have committed treason, or perhaps it's all a coincidence and a misunderstanding. Both sides of the entire Wunpaw tribe – over one-hundred creatures – are poised against one another, waiting for the other side to try their paw at war. Neither brother can ascend the throne when it would result in almost half the tribe revolting. And so, the whole tribe has been locked in an increasingly heated standoff."

Marius had been listening closely, "So how are you going to solve it, er, use me to solve it?"

"Lord Barbourn has already tried to settle the issue, but the village has expressed that they will only listen to another otter in this circumstance. It is to be expected from such a traditional group of creatures, but frustrating nevertheless. That is where you come in. Now, in discussing the options for the Wunpaw in their selection of a new ruler, there are two ways that one can ascend the throne. The first is by blood right. But if there are no heirs to the throne, the council of elders will hold a pike hunt. Any of the Wunpaw tribe, male or female, young or old, may take part in the hunt. Whoever is the first to kill a pike becomes the new monarch by rule of might."

"What happens if nobeast can kill a pike or find it?"

"I imagine that the elders would keep holding pike hunts until somebeast could claim victory. The only reason that a pike hunt has not been held is because two heirs already exist! And even if one side wanted a pike hunt, the other would undoubtedly shoot down the motion. Especially when they believe that the heir on their side is the rightful one."

"Sounds messy."

"Messy indeed, but that's why we're here."

"Do you think it will work?"

"I hope so, my giant friend. I certainly hope so."


   Only once on the way to the Wunpaw settlement did the voice speak to Marius in his sleep. In the void, Marius heard it speaking to him through his ears. And through his nose, he could smell dirt and mud, but also a semi-pleasant aroma. Was it warm bread?


Again, a long pause followed by a loud, banging noise and Marius came awake with a start. When he looked about, it was nearly dawn. Beside him, Gilad was cooking them breakfast. "Whoops, I'm sorry, chap – didn't mean to wake you. Grabbed the pan without a cloth and burned meself. Och, that will blister, won't it..."

Marius laid his head back down on his bag and looked up. After some time of waiting in relative silence, only broken by the breeze or sounds of Gilad's cooking, Marius noticed the sky's soft, grey twinge, which signaled the coming of a new day. He knew that he had been dreaming but was not quite certain of what. The smell of breakfast was delicious; his train of thought did not last long and within minutes, the whole dream was so forgotten, it might as well not have happened.

It was night time at the settlement of the Wunpaw tribe. Under the cover of darkness, three figures stole away to a meeting place of what would have been downstream from the tribe, had the dam not reduced the riverbed to a miniscule trickle. With the half-moon offering only meager light, it took some time for the three river otters to finally find each other.   

"Thanks fer meetin' with me, Theo."

"Sure thing, Fiona. Mogo, how are things?"

"What kind o' question is that, Theo? Let's hurry this up. Things are rough enough as it is with those two pompous brats going at it."

"Hold your tongue. They'll have you fer treason."

"Oh, and this won't? Get off your pedestal, Theo. What's the plan?"

Fiona interjected, "Those two bozos 've gotten a little too big fer their britches. My husband's stuck over on the South bank with my pups. His folks 're dead set on Prince Ohanko being the spawn of the devil or something. Anyway, I can't see him anymore since I'm on the North bank. An' crossing over is getting harder an' harder to do without causing some kind o' scene. You two notice that?"

"Yeah, somebeast was crossing over today an' got some rocks slung at 'im, called 'im names n' all. Somebeast tried to attack him, too. It's getting out of paw. Are you suggesting what I think you are?"

"The dam? Yeah. It's gotta go. I know how to do it."

"Sounds a bit dangerous..."

"Shut up, Mogo."

"Listen, I need cooperation from both of ye. If any one of us get caught we're all in for it an' bad. I don't even want to know what would happen. You two already agreed t' meet. You're just as invested as I am now. Here's what I know. The dam was built in a hurry after River King Sirus died – "

"Seasons bless him."

"– yeah, seasons bless 'im. An' since it was built in a hurry, it's not meant to last. And it certainly wasn't meant to last this long. The whole structure is withering away as we speak."

"But how do you know that, Fiona?"

"Shut up Mogo. I build things. I know what I'm talkin' about. Now after River King Sirus died –"

"Seasons bless hi – "

"– will you shut up Mogo?! What, are ye gonna say that every time I say 'River King Sirus'...? Go ahead, say 'seasons bless 'im' one more time... Well?! No, that's what I thought. Now shut up and listen, I'm gettin' cold. The whole structure is withering away and nobeast is doin' a thing to stop it. It's still got a good seceral weeks left in it, maybe a month or two, but not much longer than that! There are weak points in the construction – I made a note of them when I was walking from bank to bank – did that twice a day and took all the trouble fer it as well. See here..." Fiona started drawing in the dirt a rough depiction of the dam and made several gestures at the weak points as she talked. "All these spots are goin' faster than the rest of the structure. If we can get any one o' these to fail, the whole thing 'll come tumbling down."

"Alright Fiona, so the dam's gone. But that's not what's causing the trouble – it's the two brats. We want them gone."

"Good point, Theo, but I'm not finished. This 's where the kicker comes in. We need to get the two brats in the way of the dam when it falls."

"You're talking about killing them."

"Don't twist it to sound worst, Mogo. It'll be doing everybeast a favor. The dam's on its way out anyway, I'll probably be one o' the creatures asked about why it failed. I'll tell them what I know – that the whole thing was weak to start and wasn't supposed to last that long – the tribe will mourn, and a pike hunt will be called for. A new King or Queen is crowned – heh, maybe even one of us – and we can all go home."

"You told me this plan was to unite the tribe, not murder both of the heirs and leave everybeast scrambling again!"

Fiona was getting angrier. "This will unite the tribe! What, you think that those two brats will be able to do a better job? All over the banks, beasts are stockpiling weapons because they know what's comin'. You know it too, so who are ye tryin' to fool, Mogo? Because it ain't me and I'm pretty sure it ain't Theo, either. Right Theo?"

"She's got a point, Mogo. Even if war is avoided and one o' those two becomes the new River King, they'll run the whole tribe into th' ground. They've been at this for months."

"I agreed to unite the tribe. I figured that a little bit o' foul play would be involved, but this is just too much, Fiona. I'm not gettin' blood on my paws... It'll never work; I'm out." Mogo stood up and dismissed himself from the other two crouching otters.

Theo whispered to Fiona, "What do we do, Fiona? What if he tells somebeast?"

Fiona gritted her teeth and picked up a nearby rock, "He won't tell a soul. C'mon," and she marched into the night. Theo moved hesitantly in tow and together the two pursued Mogo.


Marius and Gilad Gower made their way into the Wunpaw settlement together, walking along the North bank. Their entry caused a bit of a stir (for here was yet another diplomat from Salamandastron and – great seasons, look at the size of that 'un)!

"Now listen up, Marius," Gilad had told him before they entered view of the camp, "Remember everything I've told you. A lot is riding on this! If you get stuck, I'm here to help you out. We're a team and don't forget it. Use that energy from being a performer and focus it on making peace. I have absolute confidence in you."

The ruler of the North bank of the Wunpaw tributary was Prince Ohanko, who was accused of poisoning his brother and father by Prince Ahote. Ohanko was the younger brother of the two and was not even twenty seasons of age yet. But this was nothing that seemed to be of any concern to him, as Marius and Gilad would soon find out. It was not terribly difficult to find Prince Ohanko. The Wunpaw otters had all known of the hares from Salamandastron and it was assumed that it was the prince they were looking for, whenever they came about.

The Wunpaw lived in longhouses, carefully constructed from long yew poles and stripped bark. Each longhouse belonged to a family or two or sometimes more, depending on the size of the longhouse, and they were scattered about the settlement seemingly without a pattern (though Marius would soon discover that there was a tradition behind even this seemingly scattered layout). Marius and Gilad were directed to a specific house toward the middle of the settlement and they walked there without an escort. On the way to it, the pair could not help but glance at the state of the settlement as a whole. It was not obviously lacking, but the atmosphere conveyed a sense that something was amiss. Perhaps it was the lack of water flowing down what was now a large, deep trench in the earth separating both sides of the tribe? It looked as if some great earthquake had created a fissure and there was no way across. But indeed, there was a way across. It was muddy in many places, and it had no distinct path, but it was a way.

The great dam was a considerable feature of the scenery and it captured the attention of Gilad and Marius. The massive structure spanned the length of the river far up some ways. It was known that the river was being redirected into a cave of sorts in the ground, but this cave was not visible from their current vantage point. From around the bend in the river, only a small piece of the dam was visible. All Gilad had to say about it was "How ugly."

It became apparent to Marius that this was also Gilad's first time visiting the Wunpaw tribe. Gilad had mentioned that he had served as an ambassador many times, but Marius was somewhat eager to see him in action. The plan had been laid out in great detail and recited to Marius like it were a lesson until he could recite it back. While it was semi-flexible, the plan had no room for any large mess-up. Not when an entire population of creatures was depending on success.

An armed pair of guards took Marius and Gilad inside the longhouse. It was ornate. A bit shorter than all of the other longhouses, but unlike them, which housed up to a score of creatures, this one only housed the royal family. Marius glanced about at the various silks, jewelry boxes and, presumably ceremonial, ornate spears and javelins hanging from the walls or stacked together, their bases disappearing into a wide, golden vase on the ground. Painted tapestries of otters lined either wall wherever there was space. Below them were names like Piketooth, Kora, Coreen, and Mearann. Each of them seemed to be portrayed either with a family, or with the body of a pike.

"These must have been rulers." Said Marius, softly as if he did not want to wake somebeast.

"It appears so." Said Gilad, "The Wunpaw are a tribe whose history traces back many generations. They are very proud of their ancestry."

As the two approached the second half of the longhouse, there was a curtained rod that hung across the width of the room. Through a diaphanous veil, Gilad and Marius could see a throne of sorts with a shadowed figure situated upon it. It seemed that Prince Ohanko had claimed the family longhouse as his own and sat on the throne of the River King, despite himself still being only prince.

"Wait here." Said the first guard. Both the first and second guards were big creatures, though even still they could not match Marius' height nor width. Only the Badger Lord had done that. As the first guard disappeared behind the curtain and began to speak to Prince Ohanko, Marius could feel the eyes of the second guard upon him. He turned to look at the guard, looked at their spear, looked back at them and nodded. The second guard gripped their spear harder and shifted their gaze to Gilad, who was considerably less of a giant. Considerably less like a beast who could probably snap the spear and use it as a toothpick after a meal, or close their paw around a loaf of bread and say, 'guess what I've got in my fist.'

The curtain moved, and the first guard reemerged. The second guard looked relieved. "Prince Ohanko will see you now. Ah, ah, ah, stop. He will see you one at a time."

Gilad looked upset, "We are both here as ambassadors, we request to see Prince Ohanko together."

"Prince Ohanko is not very concerned with your personal agenda. You should count yourself lucky that he is willing to entertain a hearing at all. He is only doing so out of respect for the Badger Lord you come from."

If Gilad wanted to argue further, he did not show it. Rather, the hare straightened his uniform and nodded to the guard. "I will go in first, then. Marius, you wait here until I'm finished. If he will not hear from me, I'll need you to talk to him. Let's hope it does not come to that. I am a bit more used to this than you are."

Marius nodded, and with that he saw Gilad disappear behind the curtain to the throne with the first guard again. With a sigh, Marius gently rested his head against the curtain rod and massaged the corners of his eyes with his paw. Above the curtain was simply another, thicker curtain hanging from the ceiling and so he could not see into the throne room. Meanwhile, the second guard did not tell him not to lean on the curtain rod. He had never had to tell beasts not to lean on the curtain rod because nobeast had been tall enough to lean on the curtain rod! A sense of injustice welled up inside the second guard that he had to be the one left with the giant. After all, he was the senior to the first guard. His thoughts turned to all of the imaginary scenarios and arguments he could have with that first guard, each of which undoubtedly seeing himself prevail over his peer. Perhaps it would get him recognized by the royals somehow? Even get him promoted. Captain of the guards? He could finally win over Dorthea's heart, whom did not know he even existed and... and so the second guard occupied himself. Marius, however, was occupying himself by listening to Gilad's conversation with Prince Ohanko.

"Hello, Prince Ohanko." Here Marius imagined that Gilad was bowing respectfully, sweeping off his cap as he did so and leaving it off. "My name is Gilad Gower. I am here as an ambassador of Lord Barbourn of Salamandastron, along with my associate, an otter, Marius of the Western Mountains, who is waiting behind the curtain. My associate and I have come here to facilitate the negotiation of a peace between you and your brother, Prince Ahote –"

"Do not mention that urchin's name, here! He is not my brother. He is a traitor – a slanderous toad of a creature who is trying to do away with me by hiding behind his supporters," said Prince Ohanko. Marius thought the voice sounded shrill, like that of a young pup shouting back at the parent who was trying to explain the concept of sharing.

Gilad waited a short beat before he continued. Marius imagined that, while taken aback, the hare did not hint at a smile nor a frown, and that he bowed again – this time with only a tip of his head. "My sincerest apologies, Prince Ohanko. It is not my desire to create tension, only help in dissolving it. You see, I am here as a friend to help you and... the one who also claims to be heir to the throne settle a peaceful agreement and see to it that the Wunpaw monarchy is restored."

Prince Ohanko, who Marius imagined was lounging sideways on the throne of his now deceased father, a tapestry of the late king and his family behind him, where the painted face of a younger Prince Ahote had been cut out some months prior in a fit of anger, then replied, "I know what you're here as. You have instructions just to get an answer – set up the Wunpaw with a ruler – it doesn't matter who that ruler is, does it? Don't answer that. I'll answer it for you: no. Because as soon as you get that ruler crowned king, you can prance back out of here and back to the mountain, never having to deal with the consequences of your choice. You're not even an otter. You don't think like an otter, you think like a hare."

"Prince Ohanko, with all due respect, I –"

"Don't interrupt me, I'm not done talking to you. You can't waltz into a tribal issue, one that has more depth to it than you know, and expect to throw an answer at me that you, an outsider, are going to make a decision for all of us and then leave."

"Prince Ohanko, we are not here to make a decision only facilitate the –"

"Do. Not. Interrupt. Me. Heh, what is it with you creatures? What, you think you own the Wunpaw? Does your Badger Lord think he owns the Wunpaw? No, nobeast but the River King owns the Wunpaw. And I deserve to be River King. Me!" Marius did not like how this conversation was going. It had hardly been two minutes and things were already hostile. Perhaps Prince Ohanko had been anticipating some ambassadors to come?

Gilad seemed to be trying his best to diffuse the conversation. It had been a very long walk to the Wunpaw tribe. It would be a shame to be turned away as soon as they had arrived. "You are correct in inferring that I, a hare of Salamandastron, should not be making the choice of who becomes River King, Prince Ohanko."

"Of course I'm correct! I live here. I'm heir to the throne."

"Very respectfully, sir – I cannot stress that enough – my associate and I are not here to make nor influence a decision of who becomes the next River King. It is my full understanding, as it is my associate's and Badger Lord Barbourn's full understanding, that the decision of the River King in this matter is one that comes from within the tribe of the Wunpaw only. Would you agree so far?" Marius thought he could hear Prince Ohanko snort. After a beat of silence, where Marius presumed Prince Ohanko gestured to Gilad to continue, he kept on. "My purpose, and my associate's purpose of being here is only to serve. We would like to serve you and the creatures under you by setting up a meeting of the tribe elders, as well as yourself and the one who also claims to be heir to the throne, in which a civil discussion may take place. One that, conducted only by those who your tradition dictates should be involved with the decision-making process – not one influenced by myself nor my associate – will decide how the Wunpaw will continue to rule. A peaceful transition of power from the late River King Sirus."

"Seasons bless him." Murmured the guards.

"Seasons bless him," added Gilad before continuing slowly. Not too slowly as to insult Prince Ohanko, but slow enough so that each word could be listened to individually before the next one came. "A peaceful transition of power from him to the next ruler of the Wunpaw. A mind for peace is all we ask for, for it directly affects the lives of many, both in and out of the tribe of the Wunpaw. Without the Wunpaw Tributary to feed the River Moss, the whole region west of here along the river is suffering. Will you help in restoring peace to the region and let us serve you and your tribe, Prince Ohanko?" Marius imagined Gilad to be bowing here. It seemed appropriate, especially for one who was trying to influence through sheer good will.

Prince Ohanko waited before responding, presumably to keep Gilad in his final, sweeping bow and make the hare feel like there was power over him. "Have you already spoken to that slanderous wretch about this?"

"Nobeast but you, Prince, Ohanko. You are the first and only we have spoken to of this."

"Well, good answer." Prince Ohanko paused for a beat. "I will agree to attending a meeting of the elders and the traitor. Now, leave me. Your associate can go, too. Do not come back to me until you are ready to ask which day I would like to have the meeting."

"Thank you, Prince Ohanko. You are wise beyond your seasons." As Gilad turned and began to make his way out of the throne room, he was stopped by Prince Ohanko's voice,

"Oh, one more thing, errand-beast of Barbourn."

Gilad turned about to face the Prince again. "Yes, sir?"

"If I find that you cross me, or I have any reason to believe – even the smallest inkling of a feeling – that you or your associate are working against me, it will not bode well for you. My guards and their spears will see to that. Is that understood?"

Marius looked down at the guard, who had been standing by him behind the curtain. For a while, it seemed like the guard had been daydreaming. But with the last of Prince Ohanko's remarks, they seemed to snap back to reality. They stared up at Marius, eyes somewhere between awkward embarrassment and complete terror.

"Message received, loud and clear, Prince Ohanko." Came Gilad's voice, rich and polite as ever.

Marius looked at the guard, looked at the spear, looked at the guard again and nodded, just like he had done when he had arrived. The guard gulped.


Gilad Gower and Marius took their leave from the longhouse. Gilad took out a kerchief and dabbed it on his forehead. "This is going to be more difficult than I thought, Marius."

"The guards did not seem too enthusiastic about killing us with spears."

Gilad laughed. It was a heavy, rich laugh. "I don't suppose you had any influence on that?" Marius said nothing, but Gilad would have sworn that he saw the giant stow away a grin that was creeping across his lips. "Yes, these beasts seem to be a bit stubborn, but that is how diplomacy works, my giant friend. It's fought with brain power! Come on now, there's still plenty of daylight left for us. Perhaps we can find Prince, er..."

"The slanderous toad?"

"Well, I suppose that is one thing to call him."

"I'm sure this side of the riverbed would accept other names."

"Yes, I'm sure, but none of them any better."

"I did not think only one of us would be allowed to speak with Prince Ohanko."

"Nor did I, my giant friend. Though I dare not speak about it, lest my tongue betray me whilst his supporters are nearby. Remember, our only mission is to facilitate the Wunpaw making their own decision. We shall have no part in the decision itself! Before we move over to the South bank, I want to gain a bit more of an understanding on the situation as a whole. We can start by asking around a bit and see what creatures tell us. We may find something useful."

Contrary to Gilad's optimism, the pair did not find much useful information at all, save for one suggestion. A very young-looking otter maid named Fiona, whom the two talked with for some time, learned of the pair's mission to set up a meeting between the two princes. She exclaimed, "Oh, that's just what the tribe needs! But where will you hold it? On the North bank or the South? You cannot expect the royal highnesses to cooperate with one another and meet on enemy territory, surely."

Gilad thought about this for a moment, running his paw over his small beard as he did. Marius chimed in. "Perhaps we could hold the meeting away from the camp? That way, it would remove any emotions that may arise from meeting one place or another."

Gilad nodded in agreement but the otter maid, Fiona, interjected, "No, that won't do. The two princes would only bicker more if the place was slightly to the North or South and this or that. Really, they will find anything to argue about. If only there was a way to allow both princes to stay on their respective territories while still meeting with one another..." Here Fiona paused and put on a face that showed she was deep in thought.

"What, ho! That's just the thing. What if we had the meeting in the riverbed? We could get a table large enough to span across the very middle of the North and South side of the river and the two could meet there. Rather symbolic of a compromise, too, meeting in the middle," said Gilad. And so, it was decided that when the time came to propose a location for the meeting, the ambassadors from Salamandastron would suggest the center of the riverbed.

"Well, I don't think I could have thought of that," said Fiona, perfectly convincingly, "But I suppose that's why the Badger Lord chose you to help solve the case. I think the middle of the river would be the most perfect spot to hold such a thing!" And with a giggle, the young otter maid was gone, leaving the two ambassadors to continue their walk around the North bank settlement.

Save for the kind otter maid, everybeast on the North bank seemed to convey the same, sour and stubborn attitude towards the selection of the new River King, the dam, the elders and the two heirs. Gilad and Marius were, however, able to obtain a familiar understanding of the Wunpaw's layout on the North bank.

The North bank's layout seemed scattered. Longhouses were not very close together, but spread and oriented mostly with the personal taste of whoever was the founding member. They varied in size from about fifteen paces long to nearly forty paces at the longest, and always about ten paces wide. Food appeared to be plentiful, water was obtained from the river behind the dam, health was fair, shelters were warm and appeared well-constructed. Everything about the settlement suggested a fruitful life for all. It was only by talking to creatures and observing the irritable expressions everybeast wore that one could understand that the whole place was on the brink of war. They were sure to talk to as many creatures as possible. More than a few began to dismiss Gilad until they saw he was with Marius. Some also did not seem to shut up. More than once, the two ambassadors struggled to stop beasts from talking too much and monopolizing their time. Above all, one thing was clear: the Wunpaw greatly valued their traditions and they were a very proud and passionate community.

It was nearly the middle of the afternoon when Gilad had them both walk out of the settlement and head west to see the dam. It was most certainly ugly. It was also guarded by otters on each side of the river. Together, the pair looked at the thing (for despite being rushed and awkwardly built, it was absolutely a feat of engineering). A guard stood very near to them. "It's for your safety," he assured them, "Can't have beasts wandering around and playing on the dam." Did he think they were babes?

Gilad started talking about the structure to Marius, how it worked and where its forces were distributed to counteract the force of the river. The guard stood by and nodded his head in agreement, intently listening to the hare's ramblings. Marius' mind, however, was in a different place. His eyes stared at the dam, that beast of a structure, and his eyelids began to feel heavy. It was strange – he did not feel tired. He remained conscious of the two next to him but felt himself sitting in a void. The voice spoke to him in a whisper, as if trying to not let Gilad and the guard hear it,


The smell of dirt and mud, probably from the riverbed nearby, and the scent of food being prepared at the nearby settlement drifted into the otter's nostrils. It was a warm, serene feeling and Marius did not know how long he felt himself there in the void when suddenly there came the noise of a crash again and he felt himself get pulled into reality, stumbling backward. Marius gasped and shuttered awake, only just catching his balance. "Marius, let's go!" said Gilad, then in amazement, "Were you sleeping?! Of all the times to do it, you choose now? Come on. I think there's trouble back in the village, can you hear it?" Marius checked to see if he was all right; nothing appeared out of place. He did not remember anything of what had just happened – perhaps he was more tired than he thought?

Gilad and Marius hurried back, fearful that a war had broken out. But when they got there, the noise had died down. Gilad found an old-looking otter who was sitting on a stump and whittling a fishing spear. "What was all that noise about? Is everybeast alright?" asked Marius. The otter looked up at him and her eyes widened,

"My, you're a big fellow, ain't ya! Wasn't anythin' important. Somebeast left to go over to the South bank. This bank was just sayin' goodbye to them with a volley o' mud and stones. The other bank did the same – don't think they're too interested in havin' a North bank otter on their side! Hah, serves th' deserter right! Are y'all new here?"

Gilad gave a nod to Marius to continue the conversation. "We're, uh, ambassadors from Salamandastron. We're here to set up a peace deal with Prince Ohanko and Prince Ahote."

The old otter looked at Marius perplexed. "You are negotiating the peace? A beast that's never lived here before? That doesn't know our traditions and our ways? It doesn't matter how handsome and tall you are, honey, you don't have business here doin' that!"

Here Gilad jumped in, "What my colleague means to say is that we are here to facilitate the negotiation. The choice is that of the Wunpaw's, only. All we are sent here for is to serve the tribe by making any arrangements necessary for negotiations to take place."

"Hm."

"So... what exactly happened to the otter who was crossing the riverbed? Did they make it to the other side?" Asked Marius.

"Nope."

"So then they are still on this bank."

"Nuh-uh. Neither."

"Great seasons, are they still in the riverbed?" said Gilad.

"Probably, though some ways downstream. They'll have to hike on downstream a while, climb onto whatever bank they want to go to, an' then sneak back into the camp when nobeast is looking. So many idiots think they can just walk between banks like they're open. Be on the North bank one day an' the South bank the next. It doesn't work like that, ya see. It's more complicated."

The pair thanked the otter lady for the advice and took their leave.

"Be careful what you tell others, Marius. Think your words through before you say them – that could have gotten us into a pinch if she thought we were trying to make a choice for the tribe."

Marius looked slightly crestfallen. "Sorry, mate."

The hare patted his friend's back gently, as high as he could reach. "Don't worry, there. You'll get the hang of it. It's a good thing that you're here. Beasts seem to like you a bit more than me. Anyway, I suppose it would be wise to follow that otter's advice and hike out. We can camp downstream and come back to the Southern bank in the morning. It's quite a bit of a hassle just to talk to somebeast, but I suppose it would certainly beat crossing in all of this."

Marius, however, remained unconvinced. "I think we could do it."

"I'm sorry?"

"Cross the riverbed. We're ambassadors. We shouldn't have to hike out and come back in a day later. They'll see you're a hare and know that makes you an ambassador of Lord Barbourn. If they hurt you, they're insulting a power much stronger than one hare."

Gilad felt a twinge of pride but concealed it. "and what of you?"

Marius looked down at Gilad. The hare might as well have been a dwarf. "Would you throw rocks at me?"

"Our job is not to taunt the Wunpaw, Marius. Our job is to facilitate a peace talk."

"Trust me, this will save us a day."


Marius and Gilad stood side-by-side at the very edge of the North riverbank. Together, they looked out across to the opposite side. "Well, here goes nothing," said Marius, and he began to descend the steep bank. Gilad hesitated and looked behind himself, back at the settlement on the North bank. Merely by chance, he saw the inside of a longhouse a way off. Toward the back, there was an otter hastily draping a large cloth over what appeared to be a stack of arms. The hare wanted to curse; crossing the river this way really was the only option. If the inhabitants of the Wunpaw were already stockpiling weapons, there certainly was not time for a leisurely stroll downriver to a convenient crossing.

Dirt and stones tumbled beneath the ambassadors' footpaws. Their only savior from an uncontrollable slide all the way down the bank was the occasional, outward-jutting tree root to step on and stall their descent.

"Hey! Traitors, where do you think you're going?" A lone otter was shouting from the bank not far above them. Gilad felt a sweat break out on the back of his neck and his hair began to prickle. But no further shouts came from the beast. What Gilad had not seen was the look Marius gave the heckler that seemed to say, 'If you throw one stone at me, I will break you like a twig.' Evidently, this was enough for the heckler to back off and try to prove themselves when some other creature – any other creature – was trying to cross the riverbed.

Marius' hard stare bought the two of them some time. But even so, that was something which ran out. Things began to get heated when Marius and Gilad were approaching the midway point of the riverbed. Gilad was terrified. Though this was ultimately something that worked in his favor, for his body became stiff as a board and exactly how a drill instructor would want a Salamandastron hare to march, and he began to wonder if that was the reason such a stiff march was always encouraged in training. The enemy would never be able to tell that the regiment was simply scared out of their wits.

A few stones began to fly from both banks, as did clumps of dirt and mud, though all of them fell short of the pair. The river was wide where the Wunpaw were situated. Shouts began to pour out at them, the two creatures walking together. "This was a mistake, Marius. A grave, grave mistake. Even if we get to the other side of the river, what makes you think that they'll want to listen to us now?"

A paw-sized stone, thrown by an otter on the North bank with an exceptionally good arm, finally found a mark beyond all the other projectiles that had fallen short, and struck Gilad's back. A soft "Oof!" escaped the hare's chest, but he kept his mouth shut and his head forward. Marius was not impressed. He was anything but impressed. Whirling about in the center of the riverbed, Marius stood up to his full height and roared at the North bank. His voice carried like thunder.

"Rrraaaaaaaagggggghhhh! You throw stones and mud at us, but which one of you wants to walk down here and face me, one-to-one. I will let you tie one paw behind my back – tie them both if you want! I'll still crush you like a bug!"

Gilad went up in a fluster. All the work they were trying to accomplish, everybeast they had spoken to that day and all the hope of a meeting between the princes was melting away with every word from the giant otter's lips. Challenging the otters to a duel, was he mad?! "Marius, Marius for the sake of all that is good, shut your mouth! Have you forgotten entirely why it is we're here?!"

"Are you just going to take it like some coward? They're throwing things at us!"

"I bloody well know they're throwing things at us but you're the one doing damage, here! Stow that aggressive garbage you're spewing. Repeat what I say to them; I'll fix this for us, you great, big oaf!"

The otters on the bank, who had been murmuring to themselves since the giant first roared at them, were beginning to build up their courage again when the giant started speaking once more. "Stop throwing stones. Stop throwing mud and sticks. Can't you see that we are not of the Wunpaw? That we are here to serve you? I am Marius of the Western Mountains and this is Gilad Gower of Salamandastron. We are ambassadors sent on behalf of Lord Barbourn to serve the Wunpaw community – both the North bank and the South bank. We come with minds for only peace, so let us walk between banks in such a manner. Nobeast should have to be hurt or have things thrown at them, and as ambassadors from Salamandastron, any attack on us shall be taken as an attack on the badger lord himself. Let us walk freely, we are of no threat to you."

Gilad had Marius repeat the message a second time, now facing the South bank, before proceeding forward. Perhaps because of Gilad's words to the Wunpaw through Marius, or perhaps because of Marius' sheer size, and in what entirely defied all expectations of previous events, the otters on the South bank stood down, albeit reluctantly.

A little less reluctantly, the otters on the South bank did not quite welcome the pair. The otters kept their distances from Marius and Gilad, almost frightened by the presence of the two. For nobeast wanted them there, but to tell them to go and bring the wrath of the badger lord and his hundreds of stalwarts upon them? It was better not to chance it. Many of the Wunpaw had never even seen a badger before. But to know that it commanded a beast as large as Marius was enough to dissuade any further abuse from the population.

Gilad was furious with Marius and, taking the first opportunity he had on the South bank and using the wide berth he and Marius were given to their advantage, the he pulled Marius aside. "What the bloody hell was that? Are you trying to sabotage this mission?! Have you forgotten altogether just how many lives depend on our success here? It is not just the lives of the Wunpaw, Marius. It's the lives of the creatures who depend on the lower River Moss for their way of life: farmers who use its water and depend on it flooding each year to make the soil rich; shrews who use the waterways as their homes and row up and down the rivers; other river otter holts that are growing and need space and water to sustain; bird societies that eat the fish; even the Long Patrol who use this river as a quick means of navigating into the deeper parts of Mossflower to deliver help to other creatures in need!

"Gah! I cannot believe I let you talk me into doing that. Me! This mission is important, Marius. Very, very important and I cannot have you setting off a chain reaction by threatening to beat the opposition into submission! I don't care if you thought it was the right thing to do, these otters don't all know how badly they need our help yet so please don't get in our way."

The giant otter said nothing, but it was certain that he was frustrated. For his brow lowered and his lip snarled and, had it not been for the deal Marius had made with Lord Barbourn for the life of Orfeo the Contraptionist, he would have walked away from it all right then and there. But not before striking out at Gilad. This pompous, bombastic fool who would not be standing on the Southern bank in one piece had it not been for him!

As the hare went on, a ringing slowly began to sound in Marius' ear. Strangely, Marius thought he heard a second voice speaking to him through it. "Still yourself, Colossus! The hare's arrogance will catch up to him someday and be content with that. Do not let your anger come out here!" And while the ringing words from the unseen voice came and went through Marius' mind, and he had no recollection of them once they had passed, he somehow kept his anger in check with the hare. And despite his greatest urges to do otherwise he kept his silence and kept still, too. As if on cue, Gilad's tone changed.

"Listen, my friend, I'm sorry for calling you an oaf. I know you're no oaf – I've seen you fight and you're using your strengths. Strengths like that are good for saving the 15th Scout Patrol and fighting Sazaar, but not easing tensions. I am a creature of words, that's where my strengths lie. You will never see me on a battlefield and that's fine because I am being used how I should be used: diffusing conflicts before they happen. Words are not your forte, Marius. Fighting is not mine. This is a strange situation, however. And you did get us across the river a day quicker than I would have. Perhaps... perhaps we could meet each other halfway." Here Gilad held out his paw. "What do you say, friend? A compromise?"

Marius, his boiling temper brought back down with the hare's sudden humility, fully wrapped his paw around Gilad's. "A compromise." He said.


It was a serious challenge getting a hearing with Prince Ahote, much more challenging than that of seeing Prince Ohanko. The first time Marius and Gilad approached Ahote's longhouse – the same afternoon they had crossed the riverbed – the guards turned them away, claiming that his royal highness was not seeing anybeast that day ("especially any fools from that treasonous wretch's ranks"). Despite Gilad's best tactics to maneuver the situation, it was no use and the pair were forced to occupy their time elsewhere for the remainder of the day. Together, they made their way about the camp and talked to whoever was willing enough to converse. It was Marius' size alone that was making the otters talk, or so Gilad suspected, for they almost never even acknowledged the hare on the South bank.

The following morning, after having spent the night sleeping in the forest away from the camp as a precaution, Marius and Gilad arrived at Prince Ahote's longhouse and once more asked for a hearing. "Come back tomorrow, Prince Ahote is aware you are here, but is not yet willing to speak with you." Said the guard.

"Well when can we expect him to change his mind, then?" Persisted Gilad, hat in paw and leaning in eagerly.

The otter guard stared straight ahead, not looking at Gilad and certainly not looking at the hulking frame of the giant in front of them. "Whenever he tells us he is ready," said the first guard.

"And not a moment sooner," chimed in the second guard.

Gilad and Marius complied and so the day was spent on the South bank meandering about. Though tensions were beginning to ease on the two outsiders and creatures moved about as if they were just another pair of otters in the tribe by midafternoon. In one pleasant conversation with a young father and his pups, Gilad and Marius were offered a place to stay in a longhouse. It seemed like a kind gesture and the two agreed, though Marius soon found himself to be the center of the little pups' attention and, much to his consternation, seemingly a live playground for them to try to summit. The night was no better, as no sooner did everybeast lay down for bed than did the sound of a dozen snores fill Marius' ears. He sat awake with bloodshot eyes, willing with all his might that the tiny snores would somehow collectively cease. They did not.

By the time the dawn came, Marius finally was finding himself settling down to sleep when Gilad woke him. After a hasty breakfast, of which the giant otter could not even remember what he had eaten, he was so tired, the pair made their ways over to the longhouse of Prince Ahote for a third time.

"Prince Ahote will see you today, though he asks that you wait here until he is ready to meet you."

Gilad was overjoyed. Together he and Marius waited, standing outside the longhouse for an hour... then two, then three and four. By the time noon came, the pair was sitting on the ground, stomachs gurgling and eyes weary from waiting in the sun for so long. It was easier for the guards, who were on rotation every hour and were given time to rest in Prince Ahote's longhouse. Gilad struggled in his stifling parade uniform that he had to wear. It was certainly a hot day. The hare shook Marius awake, who was dozing off quietly, "Come on, mate, I don't think the prince is going to see us for another ten minutes. Let's slip away for a bite to eat and come back quickly."

"Prince Ahote said it will not be long, now!" said one guard.

"Yes, we advise that you wait here. 't won't be much longer," said the second.

Reluctantly, Gilad and Marius agreed. Slowly, the day wore on. The pair grew thirsty, but were kept to their positions without moving, under the constant reassurance from the guards that it was 'only a few more minutes' or 'he is almost ready to see you, he is just finishing up some business'.

By the time the mid afternoon had come and gone, Gilad's patience was wearing thin. He stood up and once more approached the guards. "May I ask what is taking Prince Ahote so long to prepare for us? Does he not know the gravity of our business here as ambassadors? Would he keep Lord Barbourn waiting this long? I should certainly hope not...! Well?"

A whisper came from behind the curtain to the longhouse and there was silence. Then, after a beat, the first guard spoke, "Prince Ahote is away on a fishing trip and will not be back until tomorrow. Please come back then."

Marius watched from a sitting position as Gilad gawked in disbelief at the guard, whose eyes looked straight over the hare's head as if he was not there. "Gone? But you told us earlier he would see us – that he was here! The Prince never left. We've been sitting right here all day!"

"I am sorry, Mr. Cower..."

"It's Gower!"

"... He is not here. He is away on a fishing trip and will not be back until tomorrow."

Marius continued to watch on, himself getting quite frustrated at the insincerity of it all, but remaining seated. He could see movement from behind the curtain leading into the longhouse. There was no doubt that the Prince was toying with them. Gilad looked fit to explode. "Is this how you would treat Lord Barbourn if he was here instead of me? We have been asking for an audience with Prince Ahote for three days now – I will not be turned away because he has had some change in his mood."

The guard said nothing in reply, but when Gilad went to persist further, both guards lowered their spears at the hare. Marius got to his feet. "Listen, mate. I ain't lettin' you in. I get my orders straight from Prince Ahote, an' if he says he's on a fishing trip, he's on a fishing trip! Come back tomorrow or we shall escort you from the premises."

Gilad stood his ground. "Never, in all my seasons as ambassador of the Badger Lord of Salamandastron, has any creature greeted me with such a lack of honor. Does Prince Ahote not realize that this problem is one which affects more than –" Gilad did not finish his sentence, the second guard caught him across the cheek with a thwack of their spear butt. The hare toppled over, completely caught by surprise.

Forced onto all fours, Gilad placed a paw to his lip and pulled it away, bloodied. He went to grab his hat from the ground, but it was pinned down in the dirt by a spear butt. He looked up, amazed at what was happening more than anything else, and gaped at the two guards who leaned in closely. "Come back tomorrow, or we shall escort you from the premises. If Prince Ahote wants to speak with you, he'll speak with you." Gilad's hat was released, and he scrambled upright.

Swatting at his hat to remove the dirt, he looked both otters square in the eye, "You have struck a blow to an ambassador who has come peacefully into your tribe and so you have struck Lord Barbourn as well." As if on cue, the guards felt a cool shadow fall over them. Without looking backward, Gilad knew the shadow was Marius. "Marius, I do not take this lightly – please know that I am telling the truth when I say that – but I think that the time has come for our compromise to come into action. I have done all that I can and now I am relying on you to do your part."

Marius wordlessly stepped around and placed himself between Gilad and the two guards. They held their spears almost perfectly upright to reach the giant's neck. Slowly, the otter placed one paw on each of their shoulders, then leaned forward slightly, almost into the ends of the spears. "Go ahead, stick me with your spears," he said almost soothingly, "But before you do it, ask yourself this: do you really think that it would stop me?" He squeezed his paws tightly and could see both faces crumple in pain. But still they did not strike Marius. "Drop them," he half-whispered to them. The spears fell to the ground with two distinct thunks. "Now, you shall ask Prince Ahote if he will see us now – ah, ah, ah, and if you come back – stop whimpering – if you come back and tell me that he will not see us now, this will not please me. If your answer does not please me, I will pull your arms off. Is that understood? This is a problem much bigger than Prince Ahote, and any good ruler would agree to meet two ambassadors about it."

Thereafter, the meeting with Prince Ahote went off without a hitch. The rather chubby-looking Prince, who had been in his longhouse the entire time, agreed to the meeting. In fact, as the only records of the meeting in much later generations of the Wunpaw tribe would read:

"When The Colossus himself spoke to Prince Ahote, he was so enthused about setting up a meeting with his brother, Prince Ohanko, that he even insisted on meeting at Prince Ohanko's earliest convenience, and to provide a feast for the occasion."

Gilad and Marius both left the longhouse that evening fit to burst with laughter. Meanwhile, a pale-faced Prince Ahote stayed behind in his longhouse, scared stiff by the things the giant had said.

"Alright, Fiona, that's th' last of it. Everythin' is in place an' waiting fer a final move. What time exactly 's th' meetin' with the two brats tomorrow?"

"Dunno. All I could gather is sometime in the mornin'. We'll have to be ready early, but they'll talk for a while. With the amount they bicker, the meetin' won't go anywhere fast. Except maybe down to the River Moss some ways, hehe."

"Aherm, er, yeah..."

Fiona put a reassuring paw on Theo's shoulders. "I'm sorry about Mogo, friend. I didn't want to do it, cross my heart I did not. But it was either him or us, plus a war between families. We did the right thing. Do you want a war between families? I don't..."

"He had a wife an' a pup, Fiona. It ain't right what we did. An' we even lied to her about it! Said we hadn't seen 'im. Now she curses his name coz she thinks 'e went an' ran off on her when all he wanted was what's best."

"I know, I know, Theo. But don't be going soft on me! We are warriors, mate. We make sacrifices and hard decisions so that our families don't have to. It doesn't mean we get a happy life, but it means a whole lot of others do. Now let's get outta here 'fore we're seen by somebeast. The sentries 'll be back any minute."


Morning larks sang their song under a pleasant, sapphire sky. Peculiar clouds made streaks across the sky, looking like cotton balls that were stuck at one end in the West and carefully pulled to the East until there was no more to pull. The sun was coming up over the trees and warming up the dew-soaked woodlands as the Wunpaw tribe began going about their day-to-day activities (or at least what had become 'day-to-day' with the standoff). The pleasantry of the morning was lost upon the empty, half-muddied trench in the ground where a river had originally flowed. A very long, well-decorated table was in the middle of it all, stretching only a miniscule fraction of the way across the tributary's width. A spread of food was laid out for the guests. In attendance, there would be the two princes, the collection of all six village elders (who were evenly split in who they supported, and devout followers at that), and the two Salamandastron ambassadors, who were to facilitate the meeting. All together, the feast in the mud looked incredibly out of place.

Despite the eyesore, Gilad Gower was in a chipper mood. Standing with Marius at the middle of the table in the riverbed, Gilad clapped his giant friend on the back. "Well done! I thought this day would never come. The hardest bit is behind us and now we must take this meeting as far as we can until a decision is made between the two brothers. Then we can go back to Salamandastron. I can sleep in my own bed again, and you can have your end of Lord Barboun's wager."

Marius smiled at the thought of having Orfeo turned over to him. He had been thinking a lot about the fate that would befall this creature who had caused him so much trouble. This menace! Marius was tired. Not just from his search for Orfero, but also because Gilad had kept Marius awake nearly the entire night before, drilling him on different topics that might come up in the peace talks, and how he should handle himself. Most of it went in through one ear and out the other. He thought about Orfeo for most of the time. Vengeance would feel good, he decided. "What are we waiting for?" he asked Gilad, still smiling to himself, "Where are the princes and the elders?"

"Patience, my friend. They will be out at any moment!"

"Are you certain of that? What if they decide to make us wait again?"

Gilad's ears drooped. Marius could see that he was still a bit frustrated at the events that had transpired now two days prior. He stayed like this for a moment, appearing to be deep in thought. Thankfully, he would not have to hatch an idea to draw the princes and elders out. For there was Prince Ohanko and his stalwarts now, making their way from the ornate longhouse on the North bank to the edge of the riverbed, amid much fanfare from the otters around him. The South bank, as if taking this to be their cue, then rejoiced as Prince Ahote and his supporters did the same.

The processions then quickly devolved into what seemed to be a competition of parades and grand entrances. Here, Prince Ohanko's supporters were tossing flowers to him and laying them at his foot paws. There, Prince Ahote's supporters played on strange, stringed instruments and drums as he descended the slope into the riverbed. But then Prince Ohanko's parade stopped and laid out a long rug for him to walk on to the table, lest he get his foot paws dirty, causing Prince Ahote to reciprocate with... a speech to his supporters? This was, of course, followed by a speech by Prince Ohanko, too, who made sure to speak louder than his brother, and for at least ten seconds longer. And so, it continued, all with Marius and Gilad Gower waiting awkwardly at the table, not yet seated but also not wanting to offend either party more than they had over the past few days. It was a long, thin road to get to where they were, and the pair agreed that they did not want to mess anything up.

Gilad and Marius' deal was still in effect. That was that Gilad would do as much of the talking as possible, for he was one for words and Marius was not, and Marius would prohibit any fighting from breaking out, for he was much more a beast of action than Gilad. Additionally, should the situation call for it, Marius was there to speak as an independent otter.

It took nearly three-quarters of an hour for creatures to finally get seated at the table, immediately after which both parties talked amongst themselves as if the other party was not even present. Perhaps they would have gone on forever had Marius not cleared his throat loudly enough to draw everybeasts' attention. As the elders and princes quieted down, so did those who were crowding around the table.

Gilad, remaining seated, spoke up at the still-growing assembly "Excuse me, everybeast, please listen! For the sake of safety, we kindly ask that everybeast back up at least ten paces from the table. We will speak loudly so all can hear the peace talk... yes, back up, please... ten paces, thank you...

"Now then, onto business. Thank you Prince Ahote, Prince Ohanko, Wunpaw elders and inhabitants, for agreeing to peacefully discuss who shall be chosen as the successor of the late River King Sirus the Great..."

Everybeast present spoke in unison, mostly out of habit, "Seasons bless him."

"... yes, seasons bless him," repeated Gilad. "For all who are unaware, my name is Gilad Gower, of Salamandastron, and this is my associate, Marius, of the Western Mountains."

"Tell him to sit down!" came a heckler.

"Marius is sitting," said Gilad, without missing a beat.

"Oh... well he's a bloody big fellow ain't he..." the heckler trailed off. Gilad ignored them and pressed on.

"We have been sent here on behalf of Badger Lord Barbourn to facilitate the exchange of power from – seasons bless him – the late River King Sirus the Great." Again, the crowd spoke up in unison. Gilad waited before continuing. "It is, in no way whatsoever, my mission nor Marius' mission to select the next River King. That will be entirely based upon the results of this meeting today. Everybeast who is traditionally involved in the decision-making process of a new ruler shall have a chance to speak. That much is guaranteed.

"In order to be sure that everybeast is heard and no single creature dominates the conversation, I have here in my coat pocket a small hourglass. It lasts for exactly one minute before it must be flipped over. Each speaker will be given one minute before the opposing party can reciprocate. It is imperative that respect is maintained and everybeast waits for their turn.

"To decide which of the two parties shall conduct the opening remarks, I will flip a coin. If it is the side I have marked with an 'A' that lands face-up, it will signify that Prince Ahote will start the conversation. 'O' will signify that Prince Ohanko will start."

Gilad tossed the coin in the air so that it spun randomly. It landed on the table, between dishes of various fruits, fish and the like. "It has landed with the 'A' face-up. Prince Ahote, would you like to start the conversation, perhaps by telling us why it is that you believe you should be the next River King?"

"Hey, what'd they have to pay you to give that brat the first word in the conversation?" cried another heckler from the crowd behind Prince Ohanko.

Gilad picked up the coin without spinning it and held it high so that all could see. "It is not a scam, the coin really landed with the 'A' facing up."

"Well I don' believe you..."

"It landed with the 'A' face-up. Prince Ahote gets the first word. Prince Ohanko will get the last. It's even," said Marius. The heckler shut up.

Gilad quietly thanked Marius, then continued, "Prince Ahote, you have one minute starting now."


Farther up the riverbed and around the bend, a kingfisher was flying by overhead. It gave a curious whistle when it spotted a peculiar structure blocking the flow of the water downriver. Turning its course into a wheeling motion about the dam, its indigo feathers shining in the sunlight like a royal banner, it tried to make sense of the monstrous thing below.

As it watched, it saw an earth crawler walking out from a dense shrubbery on the North bank, armed like that of a guard. And for a short time, it waited by the dam. But the kingfisher's eyes were keen, and it saw that something was amiss. For there, in the shrubbery from where the one had emerged lay two more earth crawlers, unmoving. The guard on the Southern bank had not seemed to notice. And so, the kingfisher watched on, unused to seeing sights such as this and curious to discover what it was that was happening.

With a skip and a bound, the one earth crawler left the Northern bank and began dashing its way into the riverbed and prodding at something at the base of the dam with the butt of its sharp stick. The guard on the South bank also jumped into the riverbed and it began to run toward the earth crawler that was prodding at the dam. But the guard did not reach the earth crawler from the Northern bank. For the guard had the sharp stick thrown at it and it sank to the ground unmoving, like the two that were still in the bushes.

The earth crawler, now without their sharp stick, began working again at the base of the dam until they uncovered a different tool. It swung the tool down at the base of the dam repeatedly. Every now and then, the earth crawler appeared to slip or lose its grip on something and it had to reposition itself.

As the kingfisher began to fly lower, careful as not to cast its shadow onto the earth crawler lest it know the kingfisher was there, the kingfisher thought it could hear grunts coming from the earth crawler. But maybe it was only the water behind the dam that was making noises.

Suddenly there came a second earth crawler, also from the North bank, running up to the dam with arms waving about. The kingfisher could hear it more clearly than the noises the first earth crawler was making, and it cried, "Stop, stoooop!"

The first earth crawler only seemed to work more rigorously at their strange task upon hearing this. But when the second earth crawler persisted, "Fiona, stop! Don't do it!" the first earth crawler, evidently Fiona, stopped and looked at who was quickly nearing her.

"Not another step, Theo! It's already about to break and this is the only chance we've got to get rid o' the brats."

Theo stopped short of Fiona and looked at her. His mad dash to the dam had exhausted him and his legs were splattered with mud from the riverbed. He spoke in between gasps for breath, "Half the village... is surrounding the meeting table around the bend... If you let loose this dam now, you'll kill them all..."

The kingfisher's keen eye saw Fiona's expression morph from caution to one of surprise. "Ugh, those idiots! Why are they in the riverbed, too? This is supposed to be a meeting between the brothers only."

"We forgot to think about all the supporters that would want to be around for it. There's at least two score beasts cramming 'round the table! We gotta put off the mission. Maybe we can loose the dam later, when the meeting's over?"

Fiona shook her head solemnly. "I can't do that, Theo. So long as the brats are around, we won't be goin' anywhere fast.  They gotta go an' the best way to do that is to get rid of 'em and force the pike hunt to start."

"But we know the beasts around that table! Mogo's wife is there. You have to stop!"

Fiona pointed a stern paw at her compatriot. "You're in this just as much as I am, Theo. Don't go soft on me now, right as things are taking shape. Pick a side. You're either for peace or against it."

Theo was pleading now, all sternness gone from his voice, "How can you say you have a mind for peace when you'd have to live with all the blood of our friends on your paws! Put down the pickaxe and come back to the camp with me. Nobody has to know about what almost happened."

"Nuh-uh. No way, you've already given up. I can't let you ruin this for the tribe. Mogo tried doing the same thing and it got him killed."

"It got him killed by you!"

Without warning, Fiona charged at Theo with the pickaxe and swung it at him. But the mud in front of the dam was deep and abundant and she slipped when she got to him. This gave room for Theo to dodge out of the way, but only just. He would have been dead had there been no mud.

Theo then pounced onto Fiona and tried to wrestle the pickaxe from her grasp. The two grunted and gritted their teeth with effort as they tumbled about, sometimes being submerged wholly in the mud only to wrestle free just in time for air.

After what seemed like minutes, Fiona wriggled herself free and was back up on her paws; Theo stood between her and the dam. Neither of the two were recognizable, covered in the wet sludge of the riverbed. But the kingfisher figured out who was who based on the voices. Theo held up his paw, "I won't let you kill them like you killed Mogo. It must stop here, you're too far gone. Fiona, let it go and come back to the tribe with me. This is your last chance!"

The intensity of Theo's final words seemed to hit their mark on Fiona. She took a step back but stopped short when her paw hit something. A look came across her face and she looked ahead. Never once taking her eyes from her target, Fiona bent down and picked up the muddy pickaxe. It had been lost during the fight. Holding it carefully in her two paws and testing its weight, she narrowed her eyes.

Theo pleaded, "Fiona, stop. Please!" But she did not stop. Fiona threw the pickaxe. Theo tensed himself and flinched but felt the projectile sail past him, grazing the fur on his cheek as it did. When he opened his eyes, he looked at Fiona, "You... you missed!"

Fiona was panting heavily, threads of red blood could be seen coming from her lip beneath all the mud. She pointed behind the unsuspecting Theo. "I wasn't aiming for you, mate." And with this, she turned and began to run to the nearest bank, stumbling and slipping so much that her sprint might as well have been a crawl.

Blood flushed from Theo's face as he slowly turned around to look at the dam. The final piece that had been keeping it all together was gone, removed by the pickaxe. The towering structure gave a heavy groan and began to bow out toward him. A single curse escaped the otter's lips, but it's sound paled in comparison to that of the entire river coming loose over him.

With a startle, the kingfisher took off from the tree, unaware that they were the only one to have seen the dam come loose and live.


No sooner had Prince Ahote begun talking than did Marius begin to feel strange. A peculiar, high-pitched ringing was in his ears. He made to swat at the air around him, taking the ringing to be a bug from the muddy riverbed. But it was something else. Marius was still lucid and awake when a familiar voice came to him through the ringing:


"Who are you? What do you want from me?" said Marius, aloud, speaking back to the voice for the first time.

Marius felt Gilad's paw touch his arm and heard him whisper, "Hush, friend. We need silence right now. You'll get a chance to speak, just wait until your time has come."

The giant otter froze for a moment. "My time has come," he murmured.

"What's that?" said Gilad, leaning over to Marius while keeping an eye on the timer.

Suddenly it all revealed itself to Marius. He could remember it all! The visions and dreams he had witnessed so many times leading up to this moment. There he was, sitting in the middle of the river. He smelled the dirt and mud from the riverbed, and the warm food that was cooking on the table – all things that he had smelled and felt in the void. Wind drifted through his fur and surely a large bang would be happening in just a few seconds and he would feel himself being pulled backwards... The realization dawned on him.

"Get back to the bank," he said to Gilad. The hare turned to Marius, his brow furrowed, and he looked at the giant, perplexed. The otter returned the look with one of alarm. "Stop! Everybeast get back to the bank, now!" cried Marius.

Prince Ahote was not amused, he threw up his paws and began berating the giant otter, who kept up his plea for everybeast to get to shore. While some tribe members made their ways to the bank, others began to join in the shouting match.

"Marius, great seasons, what do you think you're doing?!"

"The dam! It's going to –"

KARACK! WHOOOOOOM!

Marius was submerged in the void. Despite having seen it so many times before in his dreams and visions, it only was just now beginning to feel familiar. Marius did not hear the voice say anything to him, but he knew it to be present. "All this time you knew what was going to happen. Everything! And you were trying to tell me. I don't understand... why?"

There was a moment of silence before the voice answered Marius back, "Because you were meant to save them."

"But I didn't! So many were still in the way when the water was unleashed."

"You are wrong, there. The ones closest to the Princes and in the way were those who would bring the Wunpaw tumbling down. But those on the fringes..."

"They would have had enough time to escape... How did you know all of this? Who are you to come to me in my dreams like this?" The voice was silent for a time and Marius grew anxious. "Answer me! I must know."

"Heh, heh, heh," the deep, rattling laugh came. It sounded like an old creature. "Who am I? Am, are, I, us: a prophecy you will learn in time. I digress, it is not important that you know who I am. Just know that I am a friend."

The giant otter sat there in the void for what felt like several minutes. "Am I dead?"

"Much less than dead. No, you are very much alive."

"I never remembered the previous dreams until the end. Bit by bit, you told me everything that would happen. But I never remembered it all until you wanted me to. Will I remember this dream, too?"

"Not for a very long time."

"What did you mean about hearkening to the name of the Wunpaw?"

But Marius could already feel himself being pulled out of the void. Behind him, the voice continued to speak, "Enough. Now rise, Colossus! Your time is here!"

Marius came about slowly. There was a staggeringly strong force trying to drag him backward, yet he could not feel himself moving back at all. If anything, it felt as if he was moving very quickly forward. He opened his eyes but all that filled his vision was a sordid assortment of brown and black shapes swirling about the environment. He stuck a paw out to feel where he was but there was nothing to be felt. Upon trying to listen to the world, nothing could be discerned beyond a deafening roar.

Out of the invisible mayhem, something struck Marius in the face. His head snapped backward, and he would have toppled over were in not for an unseen something pinning his shoulder down. It felt like it was biting him. A warm, twinging ache emanated from his shoulder. The skin beneath his fur, his muscles, perhaps the bone as well, Marius suddenly had an acute, discomforting sense of them all. With his free paw, he reached for whatever was biting him and felt a long, skinny and stiff shaft. A bird's beak? Marius squeezed it hard and it broke beneath his grip.

It was now apparent that he had not been breathing. Why had he not been breathing? Or more still, why were his lungs refusing to breath as if out of instinct? This was when all became clear to the otter: he was pinned underwater. The dam had broken and a piece of it must have struck him and fastened him to the floor of the riverbed whilst everything else – the table, the Wunpaw elders, the princes, Gilad Gower, all of it – were washed away. Being an otter, Marius had little immediate concern about the lack of air. At the same time, being pinned against the onslaught of a violent river made the predicament treacherous.

Time seemed to drag on for ages as Marius tried to assess his situation. The force of the current pressed against him and his fruitless struggle to pry himself upright. It was a process that seemed to last minutes. Slowly and steadily, so slowly that it went unnoticed by Marius for some time, the scene opened before him as the last of the loosened dirt and debris were starting to be carried away by the current. A glance at his pinned shoulder confirmed that a piece of the dam had struck him. It was sticking through both sides of the shoulder and buried at one end into the riverbed, presumably buried deeply to have kept him so soundly staked. The grievous wound was spilling a steady stream of blood into the river, being swept away downstream like a ball of scarlet yarn being unraveled. This made Marius realize that it was fortunate that a single spar was the only thing that fixed him to the riverbed. His thoughts wandered to the fate of Gilad Gower and the rest of the creatures who were on the riverbed when the dam gave way, but only for a fleeting moment. For the current was beginning to feel bearable! Marius tried to grip the spar that lay in between him and the ground. Perhaps if he were able to snap the spar like he did the top half, he could swim to safety. Unfortunately for the otter, things would not be so easy. Reaching over to grab the lower part of the spar was proving to be difficult as it was, albeit manageable. However, the real trouble came as soon as Marius tried to snap the spar. It was surprisingly thick and when Marius' paw clenched around it, the spar merely twisted and pried at the gaping shoulder wound. Agony burst through from his shoulder and zipped to his head and feet like an electric shock. This would be too much; there had to be another way.

The air in his lungs starting to feel smaller now, and helpless to move his pinned arm at all below the point of the wound, the sinking feeling that Marius would die at the bottom of the river was a thought that was now poking its way into his head. Swallowing hard and thinking carefully, a new solution popped into the sea otter's mind: making a jump for it. The spar was pinning Marius down, but the thickest piece was still behind him and he was facing upright. So long as he could angle a jump correctly, perhaps there was a chance he could push himself far enough up the spar that it could fully pass through him and leave himself freed. Then again, a single slip could open the wound more and discourage any further action. Think, think, think...

'It will hurt. Do it anyway,' he willed himself.

Marius squatted as much as he could without injuring himself further. It still hurt greatly. With only a momentary pause at the bottom of his squat, where he looked straight up to the surface of the fast-moving river, to the very spot where he planned to emerge, Marius lunged upward as quickly as he could. An extreme, almost burning sensation ripped its way to Marius' head and feet, again emanating from the shoulder wound, now more vicious than ever. A heavy grunt escaped his chest and air bubbles were carried away on the turbulent flow of the river. Air did not matter now; he was away. He was away and moving toward the surface of the water at a high speed. Marius could feel his lungs shrinking in on what precious air he had left. With a free paw he reached for the surface. It just barely stuck out of the water when something big and heavy struck him square in the stomach and sent him rocketing downward again.

Marius felt what little air he had get flattened out of him, and stars began to float in his vision. The pain in his shoulder was diminished by that now in his chest and lungs as he desperately tried not to breath in the water. The surface of the water appeared so much farther away now. It had all within reach – right there! In his paw! And so, the records of the Wunpaw dictate what it is that happened next:

And when The Colossus saw that he had been cheated out of his air, the stream of blood from his wound boiled away. All the blood in him boiled, too. All the water boiled around him like a pot of soup over a fire. For the anger of The Colossus would have been enough to burn the world down had it not been for the river.

He looked up to see what had denied him air and saw it swimming there above him, asserting itself and dashing back and forth with the current in a show of force. The pike! The largest to have ever come from the water. It had stolen the air from the lungs of The Colossus as a challenge. All that could be used was the water of the river, rightfully so, for pike have always been challengers to the throne of River King. Red mist flooded over the eyes of The Colossus, a berserk rage – a bloodwrath – swept over him in that boiling water. The aching of his body diminished but not forgotten, he snarled at it, teeth gleaming like stars. The pike grinned back at The Colossus, not speaking, but insulting him with its eyes. For the pike was confident in itself that it would win the battle and feast for a season off of the great otter's meat. The Colossus needed air to breath or he would certainly die – and the pike knew this. And so, when he leaped from the bottom of the riverbed a second time for the surface, the pike went to strike again.

The titans collided. The sharp mouth of the pike griped about The Colossus' good arm, just above the paw, and began pushing and pulling against it violently. Its body arced to and fro in the boiling water, making a grand 'S' shape and threatening to tear a piece out of the good arm. Red mist still hanging heavy in the eyes of The Colossus, the backward-pointed teeth of the pike would saw through him if something was not done. Even still if he could keep the pike at bay, there was no air in his lungs and he would soon be dead. The Colossus' second paw – his left – could not help. It hung at his side, dislocated, heavily wounded, weakened and immobilized.

Sinking lower still in the river, the titans reached the bottom. Desperate for air and to free himself from the grip of the pike, The Colossus fully lowered his arm until the body of the pike was almost touching the muddy bottom. Still, it pushed and pulled against him, jerking the arm unsteadily and cutting deeper with every ounce of its strength.

Wump!

The pike let go. The heavy, boulder-like footpaw of The Colossus – a footpaw in which could fit three river otter paws – stomped on its long body and continued to press until the pike was forced to release its grip, then the footpaw pressed down even more as The Colossus squatted and thundered upward to the river's surface. This time, the pike was not there to stop him from reaching air.

Nobeast experienced The Colossus' first emergence from the water. Though many heard it, even over the rushing water. The lungs of The Colossus were bigger than any two others combined, and they were empty. He breathed the air in, creating a great wind and a sound that was like that of thunder. Those who had not seen it would have dismissed it as so, too occupied with concern for the river to understand the significance of the battle, nor notice it. Just as quickly as the sound came, it was gone again. With the teeth of the pike once more finding their grip around The Colossus, he was dragged below the surface.

And so, the Wunpaw gathered on both banks, looking across to one another, concerned for their kingdom, but now also for one another. For the river was flowing once more and neither the heirs of the kingdom nor the elders were present to choose the new River King. A dulled anxiety was upon the scene and though the now relatively placid minds of the Wunpaw looked at each other with a mix of worry and relief, all were unaware of the war that was being fought not ten paces below their feet.

Air once again in The Colossus' lungs, the battle of the titans was now evenly matched. The Colossus, there, standing at the bottom of the raging river, fending off nature's River King with only one paw. The pike, jaws always on the offensive, bolting quicker than The Colossus could turn his head, attacked with enough fury to boil the water. The titans locked together many times, tumbling about the riverbed, being flung into the current and back out again. Bruised, battered, bleeding, but not defeated, the dance of death carried on unbeknownst to all those staring at the water above. Only once more did The Colossus resurface during the battle. And when the Wunpaw spotted him, they did not see him disappear back under the water as if he was being dragged. No, they saw the Colossus – his eyes crimson and water boiling with his rage – dive back down into the depths, as if he were chasing something.

The pike made a dash at The Colossus. The Colossus was ready. Like a geyser, his clenched paw moved to deliver the pike a vicious uppercut. But the pike was fast. It snaked around The Colossus' attack and locked its jaws around his body. They were big jaws. Big enough to fit around The Colossus' sides from the waist to his chest! Powerful jaws, they squeezed tightly and dragged The Colossus to the bottom. Bubbles escaped from his mouth with a furious grunt and with his good paw, he clubbed at the monster ceaselessly.

The pike was sideways to The Colossus. Its one visible eye looked up at him and it spoke. It said to him, a voice like that of a deep horn, 'I am Nature's River King! The water belongs to me and it is ruled by my teeth, and so it shall be forever! I will feast upon your flesh for a season, Colossus! Submit to me.'

Though The Colossus was mighty, he was a beast for action and never of words. And seeking to send a louder message to the pike that it to him, The Colossus took his free paw and raked out the eye from the pike's head.

The vicious teeth released The Colossus and the pike made as if to swim away. But the Colossus grabbed the pike by the tail with his good paw. It turned around in an arc as it was being pulled in. Its teeth bared for the counterattack. But the footpaw of The Colossus stretched out and caught the pike on the side of its lower jaw. The footpaw came down and pinned it to the riverbed. It struggled to free itself, but it could not see, for its remaining eye was down in the muck of the riverbed. Continuing to press harder and harder down with his footpaw, The Colossus used his good paw to secure a hold on the pike's upper jaw and began to pull.

The pike frantically convulsed, trying desperately to be rid of its opponent as it felt its jaws being pulled wider and wider apart.

The Colossus pulled harder. Then harder, and harder still, until the jaws of the pike – nature's River King – were unhinged. Never again would they lock themselves onto a creature.

The Wunpaw, for seasons and seasons, had been convinced that the successor to the throne of the River King would be either Ahote, or Ohanko. But once the river was released and the heirs washed away, and all that was left was the giant otter who climbed ashore with a pike slung over his good shoulder, covered head-to-foot with mud, blood and water, and looking every bit a grizzly sight, the Wunpaw were never more sure of their future. Together, both banks fell to their knees.

From the back of the crowd, one soul voice rang out, "The battle is won, all hail the River King!"

(https://thumbs.gfycat.com/SentimentalAdorableChick-size_restricted.gif)

Recall this part:

"Heh, heh, heh," the deep, rattling laugh came. It sounded like an old creature. "Who am I? Am, are, I, us: a prophecy you will learn in time. I digress, it is not important that you know who I am. Just know that I am a friend."

The idea here was not to be obvious, and that's okay. But take what the voice said: Am, are, I, us --> Am, R, I, us --> AM, R, I, US --> MA, R, I , US --> MARIUS.

My brother didn't find this out until he read it aloud to me over the phone as he was asking a question. The voice is an older version of Marius himself, going back as a spirit to help his younger self as River King of the Wunpaw. It's in every way like something out of Looper. Marius becomes River King partially because of a voice telling him what to do --> Marius grows old and, through some undisclosed means (I've been pretending it was some meditative Wunpaw ritual), he transcends back to be the voice he heard in his past --> Marius becomes River King... etc.

Right! If you paid close attention, you'd see that with each consecutive dream, more and more of Marius' five senses are being engaged. First it's just his ears; then his ears, nose and taste; then ears, nose and touch; then ears, nose, touch, sight and taste! Each one of these senses feel the same way in each dream, then also feel the same way right before the dam breaks. The reason Marius doesn't remember everything until the last second isn't because he's stupid. It's because the voice was keeping him in the dark. The riddles would only distract Marius and make him on edge if he knew them ahead of time. If you were being told your future way in advance, wouldn't you act differently, too?

So to show it all to him at the last second was a way of making him believe - all at once - that these dreams had been telling him what would happen all along. Now he had no choice but to believe them. Then it was said he would forget the dreams for "a very long time". This is because he has more coming to him. We just don't know what yet...

When you read it, it looks like "Wunpaw". But when you say it aloud, it sounds like "One Paw". The repeated phrase that the name of the Wunpaw would be fulfilled in prophecy was a roundabout way to tell Marius that he would be fulfilling something (becoming River King) but with only one paw. In this case, that's exactly what happened - he fought the pike with one arm hanging limp.