When approached with a request to spy on his former people, Ogteah rejected the mere idea of it vehemently, even though it made his loyalty to his current people suspected, to a degree. Still, he wouldn’t do it. It was shabby, unfitting, more suited of the old Ogteah from his previous life.
Yet, with the circumstances conspiring against him, he had found himself plunging into the vastness of the Great Sparkling Water, nevertheless, alone and armed mainly with their unofficial warriors’ leader’s instructions and some goods to trade, a meager attempt to camouflage his true purpose.
In the meanwhile, the Wyandot from the other side of the Great Lake were working hard, anxious to convince the rest of the local nations into joining their union, perturbed by the Great League’s growing power and might, troubled by it. Even the defeated Long Tails did not keep quiet, recovering some of their former fighting spirit, the unlikely survivors among their leaders, people Ogteah certainly didn’t care to meet or remember.
All this and more awaited Ogteah as he headed across the Great Sparkling Water, against his and everyone else’s better judgment.
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