The remainder of the trip to Fort Benton had proven to be one uneventful sodden mess. A series of heavy rain clouds had seemingly pursued them as if to settle some personal vendetta. All the streams and rivers were swollen from the constant rainy-season deluge. At this point Maska was willing to grow gills and scales. Everything around them was drenched and the Five Kingdoms were depending on the ranged abilities of their finest archers. Unless the rains halted temporarily it certainly did not bode well for their defending forces.
What the excessive rains did do was make all the rivers impassable, except by bridge. Each waterway had become an uncontrollable force to be reckoned with. Anything foolish enough to venture into those churning currents was bound to meet his or her maker. Maska
